Just another sign that while my body and most of my mind is in France, there is still some little piece of me that is still in Brooklyn. Today, walking home, I stopped on a street corner to wait for a light...the same street corner I have waited at for the past 4 months, and I was reading the chalkboard sign for the cafe on the corner: Salade aux endives 5,80, mousse au chocolat, 5,20, etc. Service continue, 7h - 2h....at Da Terrasse. Wow! I thought, what is this place doing in a neighborhood that Stephane and I call the antithesis of hip (think bourgeois babies with immigrant nannies, fat boys with Jewfros on tiny, little scooters, old ladies with little dogs, an institute for the blind, a lane for wheelchairs on the sidewalk, and plenty of elderly people that use it, and for some reason one of the most well-known swingers clubs in Paris...) Anyway, I thought, hey maybe Saint-Mande is beginning to get some street cred, like some other Paris suburbs: Da Terrasse. Yeah, it's like I am back in Crooklyn! Then I looked more closely. It is not Da Terrasse, it is La Terrasse and I was having trouble reading the handwriting on the sign.