Entre Les Murs

Coco and Polo

You'd think with all the tremendous restaurants of Paris to choose from, we'd go back only to those where we were particularly impressed by the food.  However, one rainy Saturday back in June we stumbled upon a place on the left bank, a very short block from the river itself, called La Maison des Beaux Jours.  The food was very good; but what made it memorable was the house dog, a slobbery, surpassingly ugly creature named Coco.  Having arranged to meet for lunch some family friends of Janet's who were staying on the Ile de St. Louis, we dragged them with us to visit Coco.

On this afternoon, Coco had a friend over for a visit, an even more playful Polo. The two of them tussled outside and and trotted around the tables.  For a restaurant so close to the tourist beat, it is surprisingly peaceful and pleasant.  It's just out of the way enough that it doesn't feel like it's in the traffic, nor is it crowded inside.  And fortunately for those of us who like dogs but generally prefer other criteria by which to judge a restaurant, the menu is lovely and the service excellent. 


We are sufficiently accustomed to dogs in restaurants in general as to wonder for what reason we exclude them back home.  Really, assuming the owners wouldn't bring them if they weren't sufficiently well-behaved to lie quietly by or under the table of their master/mistress, what's the harm?  They can't be any more dirty than what is likely to be tracked in off Paris streets by the human patrons.  Nor is space a serious issue, since Paris' dogs are generally found a fair distance from the St. Bernard end of the scale.

On the other hand, there was an occasion last fall in which a prohibition argument presented itself.  Janet and I went to an elegant Vietnamese restaurant in our neighbourhood, La Baie d'Ha Long.  The main dining room was miniscule, with room for four or five close tables only.  That evening, two of the other tables were occupied by people with dogs, one a golden lab, the other a Yorkshire terrier.  The Yorkie, having detected the presence of the other (placid and well-behaved) animal, became determined to show it who was boss, and periodically erupted in yapping snarls.  Dog fights in confined spaces are not something by which to garner a Michelin star.  Fortunately for us at the next table, the embarassed owner was able to hold the cur on her lap throughout her meal.

posted 4.9.06