Les Provinces and Cafe des Abattoirs
My perfect day in Paris is one that starts at the Marchรฉ dโAligre. Iโd get there first thing in the morning, around 9 A.M. as the flea market vendors are unloading their trucks, scoping out treasures as they unpack them. (Before the rest of humanity descends on the market.) Iโd rifle through the boxes of knives, cast-off kitchenware, and perhaps score a vintage Le Creusetโฆ







