"I haven't been for years but I was very much looking forward to a return trip to Mon Plaisir. After hunting high and low on Monmouth Street to find it (a sense of direction was never my strong point)I entered into one of those traffic jam situations when everyone stands around looking gormless with a kerfuffle of coat-taking and the like. It was worse for me as my nose was chilly wind-induced running(nice)and the first thing I did was to ask for a tissue which got em. By the time I was offered a serviette (napkin?)my host thought I was being most strange just hovering there not going to the table.Anyway. At the table, I sat myself down, and said host offered me a sip of his kir royale, saying it had taken him ages to get a drink. I don't know about you but that's not what I want to hear when I go to a restaurant. I want to unwind from the journey before being hassled head-first into ordering food.So I had to do that wave thing and try and catch the eye of a waiter/ress/ron ANYone to get me a drink, whilst trying to hold a hello how are you isn't this nice thanks for inviting me to lunch conversation. With my nose running. Not good.Food was just OK. I didn't have the snails as I was going to the dentist the next day and didn't want to freak him out, particularly as he looks like he should be in a boyband. I had scallops (too salty) and I forget what else, and I only went last week. Just shows. I think there were all sorts of comfort food on the menu from what I recall, coq au vin and the such, but nothing waved any flags at me.Happy to be taken (sort of); I wouldn't host lunch there myself."
