Barbra Austin

The day after dinner at Q-Tea, my dining partner sent me a heavily-researched dossier of Chinese addresses in Paris (this friend happens to be an academic), mostly culled from this blog, but also from the lengthy list of I’ve-always-wanted-to-try-that places he keeps in his head, one of which, L’Orient d’Or, was praised by the mystery blogger and also, recently, by Alexander Lobrano. Done.

Q-Tea, an itty-bitty Chinese table in the ninth, has been on my list since the stellar reviews started rolling in early this year, but I only got around to trying it last weekend.

It’s a closet of a space, decorated in polka dots (q cute!) and colors my eleven year-old self would have very much liked to have had in her bedroom. The prices are low (10-13€ for mains), and the husband and wife team who preside over this little lavender domain are utterly kind. In other words, the place has its charms. Unfortunately, the food is not one of them.

You would think, just a few days after returning from Hong Kong, that I’d be interested in eating something besides noodles.
You would be wrong.