As much as France is regarded the culinary capital of the world, and as much as I’d consider myself a foodie, I must admit I’m not a huge fan of French food. At Italian restaurants, I often find I’d happily eat anything on the menu. At French, I often find there’s hardly anything on the menu I’d happily eat.

The bottoming out of this occurred at a cute little brasserie overlooking the Seine, where Jess pointed out something being eaten at the next table over, and I deduced from side-dishes that it was likely the Jarret de Porc.

Fortunately, the expression of the waiter upon my ordering led to a sign-language conversation in which I deduced that I was actually on the verge of eating pig knuckles. And though Jess was people-watching, rather than observing that silent exchange, which led to a Laurel and Hardy routine of her explaining in French that I wanted the Jarret, and me explaining to her that no, I most certainly did not, I eventually avoided that cartilaginous fate in favor of something far more tame.

On one evening, however, on a friend’s strong recommendations, we headed over to Le Reminet, a New French bistro on the Left Bank. And while one or two menu items were, indeed, terrifying, the vast majority looked exactly like something I’d actually want.

And when they arrived, want them I did. The food was excellent – amongst the better meals I’ve had in my life – and we left after countless courses stuffed to the point that we could barely even walk.

Maybe the Frogs are on to something after all.