6/10

After gorging myself past the point of gluttony (do not, I repeat, do not go to Breakfast in America if you are on a diet. You may think you have self control. You are wrong. Chilli cheese fries are stronger than you.) We wondered around and I got a few of the tourist shots I hadn't been able to take this past month.

One of my favourite things about Paris is how quickly it changes every step you take. The juxtoposition of the grime and the grunge and graffiti with the blue shingled roof tops and flower boxes makes the entire city such a beautiful contradiction.

If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.
 —Ernest Hemingway

breakfast in america

There comes a time in every expats life where they can no longer stand gourmet gastronomy (or at least don't want it for dinner). For me? That time is now. Or at least today. Which is why dinner tonight is not escargot under le Eiffel but burgers and vanilla smoothies in an American diner. I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, Breakfast in America.

They are open 7 days a week from 8:30am to 11:00pm and I'm sure if I were from middle America in the 50s, I'd feel right at home.

You wait outside to be seated and to it's credit there was a winding line of Parisians waiting to chow down in front of us. When we're seated they had us our menu's and we notice that there's a retro red toaster to each table and all the seats are red vinyl. The place is adorable.

And then comes the food. First we ordered chili cheese fries that literally brought tears to my eyes, then Alison had something off the breakfast menu (breakfast all day?!?!) called a Big Mess. I had the Sunny Side burger and I am at liberty to say that if the second coming were a burger, the Sunny Side would be it.

All things considered, this kitschy little burger joint has been the best meal I've had since being in Paris. Period.