Le Bonaparte

When Jamal and I were in Paris last year, we stopped for lunch at Le Bonaparte in Saint-Germain, not knowing or realizing how trendy or even photogenic the café was as we tucked inside. It was freezing that day, and we were grateful for a warm place to eat. I saved the receipt and found it packing for this trip back in April: €6 for a small Orangina, €13 for onion soup. One of those meals you don’t repeat too often, except for when I did with Annie last week (oops). And wouldn’t you know it, the onion soup was bland and tasteless, they don’t have frites on the menu, and a bottle of water is €6. Thankfully, both times I’ve gone I’ve had amazing company, or I’d be too easily distracted from how lackluster the place is overall. I shouldn’t be surprised: in a city with so many restaurants, you’re bound to get a bad one every so often. You’re pretty from the outside, Le Bonaparte, but I’ll take my tastebuds (and wallet) elsewhere.