Having arrived in Sens on Friday and not really feeling up to doing the market and cooking on Saturday, I found my favorite old French guy, M. Parret, and asked him to lunch with me at the very “correct” restaurant, Chez Guy.
Little by little, with his well deserved increased clientele, Guy is smartening his place up. There were fresh flowers on each table and the tables were equipped with either placemats or tablecloths ( Le Parret was pleased).
After the restaurant filled up, we realized that we knew just about everyone in the restaurant! Chantal and Tonio were there for a family lunch with their daughter, son-in-law and their grandchild. Such a relaxed atmosphere! Everyone felt free to move around to say hello and Tony was in and out of the kitchen until his food was served.
I think pretty soon Guy will need an assistant in the kitchen. He makes an effort to make sure that his customers are not kept waiting and that the food arrives in a timely and attractive way. But with the increasing demand for tables in his restaurant, he will need help to keep this up. We are all so happy for him!
Guy’s entrees are huge! Or maybe he just makes them like this for our crowd, hoping that we’ll skip the main dish and just go home quickly and quietly. He should know better by now. We stay until the bitter end, when everyone else is gone and he has time to have a coffee and a little wine with us. This salad with brie topped puff pastry, potatoes and kidneys was out of this world and quite filling! Still, his main course special was veal kidneys with a carrot puree. Impossible to refuse, delicious and perfectly cooked. Note: I saw the waitress buying the carrots in the farmers’ market that morning.
In the beginning I thought I would have the dessert of strawberries and pineapple but I just didn’t have room. M. Parret disparaged the strawberries because he thought they were from Spain or anyway knew they were not from France because it’s not the season. Still, he ate them and looked pleased.
We all love this restaurant! We can’t wait until he’s ready to open for Sunday lunches! Poor man, he doesn’t realize how long we sit at table on Sundays