It seems like a Parisian brasserie has been moved into the village: there's a long counter, high ceilings and pretty lights, green lined-up benches, and Bordeaux toned walls where there are articles about the war, photos, paintings and post cards. This place has welcomed some important people such as Gabin and Mistinguette, Gaby Morlay and more. And Mauricette today. Thanks to her green hat, she fits in with the 1920's fashion. As far as cost is concerned but without including the lighter lunchtime propositions, menus start at 25 € and slip to... 105 €! They don't joke about dough! Clinging to the 25 € menu Mauricette starts off with "crespeou provençal, concassé de tomates au basilic". It's good, but as it's a bit cold the flavours have got stuck on ground floor. 14/20. Still for her: "brandade de morue gratinée, petite salade à l'ail" (salt cod purée, small salad with garlic). The mixed salad served on one side is great. 14/20. She concludes with a tasty "faisselle au miel et amandes grillées", but it has the nerve to remind us that this is, even so, the menu at 25 €. Menu at 32 € for myself. Having been well brought up I patiently wait some time for my appetizer. I realise that it will never come when served piping hot "caillette de lapin à la sauge" (rabbit with sage). If cold blocks flavours, hot burns. I have to wait for it to cool down. 14/20, which means that it's good. To follow "joues de cochon braisée au vin rouge, purée de rattes à la fourchette et huile d'olive" (pork cheeks braised in red wine, fork crushed potatoes with olive oil". Luke warm, the cheeks are swimming in sauce. Disappointing. The sauce is fun and generous. Red wine and maybe chocolate. I doubt that these are the variety of potatoes announced. Doubt isn't good. It always happens when the show is wobbly. 14/20. Well done for the homemade "tarte au citron meringué" (except the flaky pastry)! 14,5/20. A scandal: Mauricette and I don't know when we last had such bad bread. Plastic covered old tasting baguette, and as soggy as a deflated inner tube. In the dining room are two approximate youngsters. I have nothing against that, but I have something against the absent management who leaves them dangling there alone. The kitchen's second will come once called by us to find out about our scepticism. When informed that my appetizer never arrived he is amazed. He compensates by offering us a remarkable plate of three cheeses. Shame about the bread... Anyway! End of the meal. Apart from one "day dreaming" young waiter, all of the staff go behind the bar to drink Jet 27s with their mates who have come to eat. Then I hear that the kitchens have recently come under the supervision of famous chef Aubertin from Villeneuve-les-Avignon.