For as long as Milady and I have been coming to Paris, we have been eating at Le Voltaire. It was our first love, and it has endured. We’ve eaten at multiply starred Guide Mich establishments, but none has ever captured our hearts in the same way. Tonight was no exception.

“Our” waiter recognized us (never mind that our last meal there was about a year ago) and greeted us as warmly as if we’d eaten there last week. We were escorted to a beautifully set table (which would have seated four in most Paris restaurants) and immediately provided with fresh sweet butter, morsels of toasted bread, menus and the carte des vins. The cellar is extraordinary, the only thing in short supply are wines one can afford without cramping one’s style. Fortunately a careful perusal of the list yielded a fine Bordeaux, the 2005 Chateau Penat (St. Emilion Grand Cru) which delighted not only our waiter, but our palates (and our purse).

Settled with a fine bottle gently breathing on the table, our attention turned to food which would go well with the wine. White asparagus are currently in season throughout Europe, and the French have a way with the stalks. We chose to split a starter order – served with a mustard or hollandaise sauce on the side (our waiter thoughtfully provided both) it was perfect. The asparagus gently steamed to a perfection highlighted by the sauces.

The carre d’agneau (rack of lamb) is available only if shared by two – and Milady graciously consented to let me have a few bites, cooked á point. French lamb is an entirely different flavor, far more delicate and lighter than either its Anzac or American counterpart. Closing my eyes, I could smell the fresh, slightly briny meadows of Normandy where the very best lamb is raised. The proffered surgically sharp knife was barely required to remove the meat from the bone. Placed in one’s mouth it melted gently leaving only a whisper of salt air and green grass. [sigh]

The dessert menu is ample, but the only proper choice is the chocolate mousse which is the specialty of the house. A rich dark chocolate, it should be (and was) accompanied by a tiny espresso and a snifter of aged calvados. The trio of flavors was heavenly – and beyond my powers to describe.

This musing will try to follow the example set by the meal – nothing unnecessary to the appreciation of a fundamental truth.