It's Me, Sara Louise

It’s happened! Remember weeks ago when I told you that Le Petit Bar had been bought by Big Man, and in February it would be fully opened, not only for drinks, but for food too? Well it has and it is. It’s like a miracle of epic proportions.

That rock wall up there is Brother-in-Law’s handiwork. Before it was ugly and blah, but then Big Man asked Brother-in-Law and his B-team to fix it and make it prettier, and now it is. A rock wall is very Provençal you know (half of my living room is a rock wall). Plus, there are actual bottles of things to drink up there, with actual liquid in them. When The Parisian owned Le Petit Bar, that wasn’t always the case. Sure there might have been bottles stocked on the shelves, but they didn’t necessarily have anything in them. True story.

Besides the new rock bar, the kitchen has been updated as well, and Big Man’s wife is back there cooking food (unlike The Parisian, who at times could be found in the kitchen sprawled out on the counter, napping). I know it might be difficult to appreciate the enormity of this situation, but after being held hostage by The Parisian for over two years, having someone actually making food in that kitchen, is a very big deal. So on the Sunday after I returned from Dublin (a week after Avignon – just trying to give you a timeline of where we’re at), Big Man’s wife was making Moules Frites, and Brother-in-Law kindly hosted a birthday lunch for me (yes, we’re still talking about my birthday).

Because we can’t pass a day without something bizarre happening in The LPV (because that wouldn’t be any fun at all) this is what happened on this day of moules and frites… well Big Cheese (you may remember him from the Fête des Lumières disaster of 2011), who had been drinking in the bar, left briefly and returned with a necktie on over his t-shirt (as you do). He walked to the middle of the dining room, and proceeded to clap his hands loudly, while shouting, “Attention Mesdames et Messieurs, Attention Mesdames et Messieurs“, until we all stopped eating, and gave him our attention. He then congratulated Big Man and his wife on the opening of the bar and presented them with a jar of The Honey’s honey, as a gift. It was quite the hullaballoo I assure you.

But we didn’t let Big Cheese’s bizarre hullaballoo damper our day. It was too wonderful. We were in Le Petit Bar, eating and drinking, and Big Man didn’t run out of anything, or ask us how much our tab was, or kick us out because he was tired.

It was so good, we went back again twice last weekend. Twice. And it was opened both times.

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