|This photo was taken in l’épicerie next to Le Petit Bar.
It doesn’t have anything to do with this post,
or Le Petit Bar for that matter,
I just happen to like it
Tell me, does this ever happen to you?
You find a new restaurant that you love, you tell your friends all about how wonderful it is; the service, the food, the ambiance, the value, and then when you finally bring your friends to show off your new find, the restaurant doesn’t live up to the hype. This seems to happen to me all of the time, I get excited and I jinx things. This is the story of one of those times…
You know how I’ve been going on and on lately about how great the all new Le Petit Bar is? Well Big Man had a bit of a hiccup a couple of weeks ago and it was such a typical Le Petit Village hiccup that I knew I just had to tell you about it.
After our trip to Aix, The Londons came back to Le Petit Village for the night and we decided to bring then to Le Petit Bar for dinner. Truthfully we wanted to show it off… Le Petit Bar is a happening place these days (happening for around these parts anyway), the food is good, the babyfoot is fun, and the vibe is chill. Well normally that is. But as any Le Petit Village reader knows… normally, shnormally.
Normally, Le Petit Bar works like this; Big Man tends the bar, his daughter waits on the tables, and his wife does the cooking. It’s a system that works well. And it’s a system that is put in place for a reason… the reason being that if it’s messed with, the merde hits the fan. And of course the night we brought The Londons, the system was messed with… Big Man’s wife and daughter had the night off leaving Big Man, and a guy from the village to take care of everything.
Oh the chaos was glorious!
Big Man was trying to cook while a guy who clearly had never waited a table in his life ran around forgetting things. Eventually we gave up and pitched in.
We set our own table and filled our own bread basket. And once Big Man realized that we’re pretty much self-reliant, he let Gregory take over…
“Greg! Make the coffee!” He shouted from the kitchen. (Which according to Mr. London ended up being the worst Noisette he’d ever tasted. I’d have to agree with him on this one.)
“Greg! Answer the phone!“
“The toilet paper is under the sink. Pull out a few rolls when you go in there.” This one was directed at me.
It was an eventful/ pretty standard night out in Le Petit Village. (S.N.A.F.U.)
We’ll definitely be bringing The Londons back to Le Petit Bar, but I’ll be making sure Big Man’s wife is there first (or that we get put on the payroll).