My mom was in town this past weekend and I took her to Little Next Door, the spawn of its popular parent restaurant, The Little Door. I went when they first opened and was very disappointed with both food and service but the ambiance is great! I am obsessed with the imperial violet blue and royal [...]
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I wanted to take advantage of the suddenly pleasant weather by having a long lunch in the manner of the French where bistro chairs face outward toward the city plaza. While we don't have much in the way of a bistro facing the plaza, 3rd Street would have to do as I grabbed a book and made my way to the Little Next Door.
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Little Next Door is a newly opened market/deli/bakery/cafe literally next door to the fine dining restaurant Little Door. We went there for breakfast (the Brie & Black Truffle Omelette sounds good) but we got there too late. I'll make sure I arrive before 12 next time.
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I've never been to Paris. But of course, I'm taken in by its mystique thanks to countless filmmakers, novelists, artists, and even food bloggers. I've never had the cliched Parisian experience of languishing for hours at a sidewalk cafe, sipping wine, smoking cigarettes, writing in your moleskine, and finding yourself. Or rubbing elbows with quotidian fashionistas as a charming grocer hands you the perfect peach at a sidewalk market. I mean, this is the land that inspired Annie and Eric to smuggle no fewer than fourteen cheeses (imagine that gloriously stinky suitcase!) back home. Of course I'm smitten.
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