All Vultures Have Been Fed - Now to "My Restau"

The commotion generated by the death of little girl Isabella in São Paulo was colossal. I can imagine when "O Globo" and its TV arm recicled the  news about  Isabella Nardoni non-stop. Brazil is big, São Paulo is very big and Globo network is on day and night, as you saw in Bye-Bye Brazil. Click, please.

Here in Santa Monica, the wagging tongues were restless over ESL teacher Beltrán's alleged molestation of one girl, then another and yet others. SMMUSD had mummed on this teacher's previous incident. Da police knew about it. It seems the teacher videoed himself and the girls in lewd acts. Whatever nevermind.  I have a series of posts ready for when I'lll be away. I'm going under on Monday, my first Mother's Day without Mommy.

Brain surgery is scary. Living with NPH is a lot worse. Click. Tonight I want to write about our home away from home. It's Robert and Teresa Bourget's restaurant/bistro, Le Petit Café. Click. They are like family. The restaurant is close to our house, its ambience cozy. There's a limitation on the available dishes; the kitchen is tiny. I like to start from cold to warmer dishes. For example: an ahi-ahi seared tuna salad, followed by a soup. I recommend the soupe d'onion next. It's your basic onion soup, with pieces of French bread diced, and Gruyère cheese melted on top. Boiling hot. Heeeeey!

There's only one soupe d'onion I know  that somewhat resembled Robert's; it was in  forgettable French restaurant for afterhours on Broadway. After the soupe, I recommend the salmon with dill sauce; the crab cakes; the filet mignon au poivre, soft like buttah, and the white fish with capers. All come with rice or mashed potatoes; cooked carrots and string beans. If it's a day for le beef Bourgignon, take it.

Photo: Oscar Night, 2004, Zefa's birthday. Teresa and Robert chez nous.

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