We wandered our environs near our rented apartment in Paris. First we circumnavigated an ancient church called St. Eustache. The bells were ringing like crazy at 7:00 so we thought a choir of angels must be singing. It turned out to be a soup kitchen calling the chosen to partake in a potage with some hundred plus disciples.
We wandered further on and came across a place called Au Pied de Couchon. Yes, pigs feet were on the menu.
The place has been serving pigs trotters and other classic bistro fare since 1947. I opted for two classics, onion soup and mixed pig parts breaded and deep fried (ears, feet, cheeks, and tail) with bearnaise. We washed it down with Cote de Brouilly and Badoit. Christine dined on a creamy lentil soup with chorizo and a veal dish christened tendron de veau, braised veal breast.
There was a bit of excitement when four policeman arrived to take care of an apparently homeless person who skipped out on paying her bill. Where were they when Charlie got bailed?
Fun place, lots of character and professional service. Awarded three cloven hooves my moi, oink oink.