Audrey W.
Yelp
It's lunchtime in New York, seven hours away, and hi, I am writing a review for The Salad Place (how anyone who ever eat here will refer to it). I used to live on the other side of the hill and my walk to Le Relais Gascon would be the warm-up to The Salad.
Get the Gascon, which like all "salads" (using word loosely) here, come in a ceramic flat-bottomed epic bowl: 1/3 crunchy greens tossed with dressing with 2/3 layer of garlic potatoes, interspersed with liver pâte, thin slices of smoked duck breast, gésiers (which I'll leave in French because it just sounds better). The garlic potatoes, traditionally fried in duck fat to a golden crisp (pommes sarlardaise, from the Southwest of France) is tied with aligot to what I think God intended us to do with potatoes-- yeah, here, they've not always been fried to my ideal crunch, and it'll get a bit soggy at the end due to the dressing, and ok, there may be like a scoop too much. But still? Sit on the terrace, order a glass of red if you want, stack a slice of garlic potato, then laitue (lettuce), then a duck-y thing on the tines of the fork-- and yes, there is still magic in Paris.
Service is ok, no one's gonna be your best friend; if you sit outside, you may be serenaded or asked for change. Someone's had the confit here; I've pulled my hem over the unsnapped button on my jeans and had desserts a couple times, probably once with that person who got the confit. But, really. You know what to order.
If you don't have a hill, there's the possibility that the elevators at Abbesses may be out of order. 200+ steps!