Airline food is often compared unfavorably to that of hospitals and prisons, but on our Air France tourist-class dinner flight to Paris we discovered, under a mediocre salmon filet, a bonanza—parsley-sprinkled potatoes and fondue of leeks as savory as any offered on terra firma. Wouldn’t it be nice if airline cooks concentrated on preparations like those leeks, that can’t be spoiled no matter how long they are cooked? We drank Champagne labeled Bresserat de Bellefou, to our perception like any other that comes in quarter-bottles with a screw cap, and is served in plastic cups. But this generic bubbly was not only free (no squirming about hunting for seven bucks a time) but also properly chilled.

Thanks to those touches of excellence, we arrived at Roissy—on time at 6:30 am—with our inner persons ready for adventure in good eating.

We had reserved a small apartment, a fourth-floor walkup in the Montparnasse area in the southern part of the city (Métro stop Alésia), and had arranged to meet the apartment owner there at 8:30 am. This left us an hour to dawdle over coffee and croissants in the airport café (F21) before taking a taxi to our vacation home at 14 bis rue Friant. The fare was F310.

Madame Laroche showed us about the apartment—small, old and worn, but cozy, with good lighting. We were at first disconcerted to find all the drawers and shelves jammed with Mme L.’s belongings. But since those belongings included many interesting-looking books in English and French (the lady told us she was an English-French translator by trade) and we were welcome to read them, we were not unhappy with the clutter.

The preliminaries out of the way, we got down to the key question—where to go for lunch. La Régalade, a neighborhood bistrot warmly recommended by Mme L., was closed Sundays and Mondays. Another nearby place, les Vendanges, was also closed Sundays. In the end we made a lunch reservation at:

La Coupole

102 bd Montparnasse, Paris 14. Métro Vavin.

This cavernous, brassy brasserie, one of the "in" places of Paris since it opened in 1927, was just starting to come alive when we arrived at 12:15 pm. The people pouring into the high-ceiling dining room were youngish, and dressed for the most part in casual chic style—jeans, sport or tee shirts and jackets. Some of the women were in black, dressy outfits, while others wore suits with scarves ingeniously knotted as described in a novel Jean was reading at the time, Le Divorce by Diane Johnson.

Ladoucette Pouilly Fumé 1994 (demi, F112): Overly hard and lacking any discernable character—a regrettable choice.

Soupe de poisson du pêcheur, sa rouille et ses croûtons: Fish soup served with rouille and croûtons. The soup was too salty, but that didn’t stop us from accepting an offer of a second helping of soup to go with a third helping of the crunchy and flavorful croûtons. The rouille, overly tame, turned out to be a slight letdown.

Salade verte. "They dismembered a head of lettuce and put it on a plate" is how Jean described the kitchen’s response to her off-menu order.

Salade de pointes d’asperges au foie gras de canard: Green asparagus tips (asparagus spears actually, with shaved stems) served with pan-seared foie gras of duck. Though out of season locally, the asparagus carried an enticing hint of the springtime treat. But the foie gras had not made proper contact with the hot surface of the pan, with the result that about a quarter of it escaped searing and so lacked flavor.

Sole meunière, pommes à l’anglaise. The waiter displayed the sole after it had been pan-fried with the bone in. Then he deftly removed the bone and reassembled the fish for a neat presentation with the boiled potatoes. Unfortunately, "neat presentation" is the most we have to say in praise of this dish, except to mention that the potatoes were as good as those served aboard Air France.

Tarte fine à l’orange, flambèe au Grand Marnier: Orange tart engulfed in flames of the burning liqueur—a smooth tableside performance by two of the brasserie’s affable, well-trained waiters.

With coffee of a style tasting interestingly of chocolate, the total at la Coupole was F558.

In the evening we had sandwiches that we had brought with us from home, lettuce between slices of whole grain bread.