Long my weeks of being here, I have tasted many great things, and, to my surprise, not many not so great things, though that might just be because i have made safe choices. Either way, i cannot say that i have been dissatisfied with the taste of the food our here in paris (portion size ≠ giant, but ok). With this being said, after a couple weeks, my palette, as liberal and accepting as it might be, started throwing a fit. Therefore, I took some time, made an appointment, to see wat was wrong with my palette. Subsequently, my palette informed me that if i didnt find it something to eat that it knew, it was going to go on strike. And no one wants a palette strike going on. Terrible consequences can ensue, lack of taste in anything one eats to start, but maybe, the palette gets the stomach down with the strike and then the throat or the immune system and next thing you know you find yourself throwing up all the while being sick as a dog. NO NO NO. i was not going to let that happen, i like my palette way too much.
So, with the goal of satiating my lowly and confused palette, i set out for Breakfast in America. I was informed by a friend a few days before that this culinary sanctuary for those who fancy american things like pancakes and skippy peanut butter existed, and was in fact supposed to be a real american diner. This seemed like the greatest solution, being that i love diner food, and i should be able to get a large portion as well. Nachos, chicken wings, eggs, CHEDDAR! they had it all. I settled for my usual, BBQ chicken sandwich with cheddar and onions, both grilled and raw. I even threw in some chicken wings on the side. The wings came first, and with them the first reminder that , despite the diner decor and the booth seating, i was still in france. They came with no sauce on them (the
people at Original Buffalo Wings would have been pissed) and just a lil bbq on the side. They were good, but not as messy or Buffalo-y as the wings that i have grown to love. Then the chicken burger. Usually, when i have a chicken burger, i have to commit to eating the whole thing once i pick it up because there are so many things falling on to my hands that i must wash them after (brings to mind the old Carl’s Jr. slogan: “If it doesnt get all over the place, it doesnt belong in your face.”) This one was not such. There was a teaspoonful of sauce, and it came on a brioche bun. it was much cuter then it was massive (or American). I had a friend who ordered breakfast that did come with some nice pancakes though. In all, my palette left satisfied and my stomach, as it has been for these last weeks, left without a full tank. I would recommend BIA because i did feel at home and did have a good meal, but dont over gas yourself into thinking your going all the way back to America as you step through the door.
PS: confession: ill b back there within the next two weeks 
