That first meal in Paris was for a long time one of the few completely reliable pleasures for an American in Europe. ‘It was the green beens,’ a hardened New Yorker recalled not long ago, remembering his first meal in Paris, back in the late forties. ‘The green beens were like nothing I had ever known,’ he went on. He sat suddenly bolt upright, his eyes alight with memory.
Adam Gopnik Paris to the Moon