![]() And so I had to leave the leftovers at the restaurant, probably so one of the employees could take it home to his or her dog. He stiffened and frowned, saying “ça ne se fait pas ici, monsieur” (“that isn’t done here”). “Garçon, est-ce que vous pouvez me donner un petit sac pour le chien”. When we finished, I politely asked the waiter for a doggie bag. We ate a three-star meal, washing it down with lovely bordeaux. I ate couscous and gros sandwiches tunisiens at North African restaurants: lots of food for not much money. I was going to the Sorbonne, living in the Latin Quarter, and didn’t have much money. Louis area of the 5th arrondissement, took me out to dinner at a very nice area restaurant. When I first lived in Paris, waaaaay back in 1970, a Stanford chum of my father who lived in the toney île st. ![]() Doggie Bags in France: The Debate Continues
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