The second part of our day consisted of exploring the smaller of Paris’ islands – Île-Saint-Louis. This island’s claim to fame is Berthillon, ice creamery. It is the home to many (very) rich people, some charming shops, and a restaurant called, in English, Our Ancestors the Gauls. Now, this restaurant was closed, but when I spied animal furs, helmets, and swords hanging in the windows, I was very intrigued. We later learned that an experience at this restaurant consists of communal seating, hearty caveman-like dishes, and a raucous, loud atmosphere. Sounds like the perfect antidote once I’ve tired of the classic, refined French cafe scene.
I highly recommend getting some Berthillon ice cream. The main store is often closed (because French), but tons of restaurants in Paris serve their goods. I got a cone with THREE flavors. Vanilla, Coconut, and Melon. I should have just had melon because it was so freaking delicious! …Have I mentioned that I am now addicted to melon? France has turned me into a melon freak. Their melons are very sweet, and all their produce is so much better than stuff at US grocery stores. You’ve heard the rumors, and I’ve come to tell you that they’re pretty much true. Most food is indeed better here.