By Joe Ray
I recently moved to a neighborhood where I don’t know where to eat… disconcerting for a food writer.
At the end of a rainy Monday in the center of town, both places I wanted to go for steak frites were closed. I retreated to my neighborhood, dragging my friend behind me and getting to the point where we couldn’t make a decision.
We circled two places, exhausted and not really caring anymore, finally settling on a place that seemed pretty but expensive (Belleville’s Le Zephyr, for the curious).
We sat and picked out our steaks and I did the math; it was going to cost 80 euros for a meal we really didn’t care about.
I looked across the table and said: “Chinese takeout and cheap beer?”
We got up immediately.
Best decision of the week.