5.7 Pascade, 14, rue Daunau (you remember Harry's American Bar which helpfully helps you to find it by writing "SANK ROO DOE NOO" on its window) in the 2nd (Bus: 95), closed weekends, 01.42.60.11.00, recently opened by Alexandre Bourdas of the famed SaQuaNa in Honfleur. It serves pascades and pascades only - and while others describe them as crepes, they are not, they're halfway between a crepe and a quiche.
I had invited my favorite cookbook writer/critic/blogger/friend/pal to dejeune here shortly after her arrival from NYC and she called at 11 AM - "John, I can't do it; I'm jetlagged; I'm crushed; forgive me." Me "Ah, come-on, buck-up, brush your teeth, throw on some clothes, I'll be there at 12:30 with or without you." Her "No I cannot, I'm sorry."
I walk in at 12:29 and at 12:31 in she waltzes, fresh as a rose. The place is midway between an 18th Century Auberge and 22nd Century space ship with rough cloth napkins and stone walls but cool holes in the tables for metal cylinders of cutlery and a really friendly hip staff. Carte. OK, all pascades, which I haven't had in 25 years, savory and sweet - cool.
She orders the pascade with cod, spinach, lime, coriander and sea parsley and I that with ham, endives, garlic and lettuce. Pretty damn good, except I found the pascade pastry too sweet (as have others) while she, a Breton-Normandy girl, did not.
For dessert we shared a pascade with truffle cream (so light that I, a truffle detester, didn't object) and 20 other ingredients (again I follow others who feel they pile on too many things in each production) and with our two coffees, chocolate from Ghana, Ghana? You got it, they couldn't find anything in our neighbors' (Belgium, Switzerland, Italy) stores? Hummmm. But you've gotta agree that the presentation was super.
Our bill, with a bottle of Fitou, really interesting roll-ettes and coffee - was 79 E.
Go? It's pretty good as I say, but I don't think Colette will cotton to the sweetish pastry.