In any little Parisian restaurant du quartier nothing beats sitting down  à table that's appropriately covered with  a starched white linen tablecloth and an equally starched over sized napkins standing at attention patiently awaiting your arrival. The service as usual can be counted on to be efficient and courteous however, if your arrive at the noon hour don't spend too much time fiddling with your menu looking for something that sounds vaguely familiar when pronounced in English. Just go with a winner. Your steak which comes sizzling a French tune is proudly placed in front of you as the frites allumettes are heaped in a pile alongside. A pichet of red  wine completes the picture. You are in the zone. But keep an eye out on the chocolat mouse in that glass case if you are planning on desert. They go fast! Your little restaurant du quartier seems to be quite well known as a steady stream of hungry patrons jostle through the front door looking for a free table. It's a mixed crowd with businessment seriously reviewing the menu, a smattering of locals at the bar for a little pick-me-up and perhaps a few tourists with their inevitable tale-tale backpacks or fanny-packs who appear to have strayed too far from their hotel (where, as advertised, they speak real American English.) A Paris quartier, a bistro du coin, a full house, a hearty sirloin steak and a glass of red wine. An enduring portrait in Paris.