Mon dieu. It is a masterpiece of an 18th Century interior. Plush red velvet banquets, gold gilt trim, full-wall mirrors, frescoes, silver vases of flowers, white linen tablecloths and napkins, skyrocketing fresh lilies. We were seated at a table that allowed us to peek at the decanting and the breathing of wine and the painstaking presentation and delivery of the plates. There was a team of at least eight waiters, ranging in age from 15 to 80, each of whom had his role in this very carefully greased wheel. When one would catch me lustfully eyeing someone else’s dessert he’d joke, “Not yet,” making me laugh. The sommelier was delightful. Our waiter was warm. The food and the wine, exquisite.

At a total of 125 euros, it’s obviously not an everyday event. It’s tres cher. But you have to think beyond just the total on the tab. You’re getting a classic experience. Neigh, an historic experience. It’s as indulgent and transporting as going to a spa. Sitting there in that sumptuous environment, knowing Napoleon wooed Josephine there, that Victor Hugo and Colette dined there, that it’s been in one of the most beautiful settings of Paris for over 200 years—and with the cast of waiters approaching your table, to bring you another treat, to pour a little more wine, to smile and make an aside—it makes you feel so special.

And you don’t have to eat for the rest of the day. We had the three-course menu, which is really four courses with the cheese…

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