Two weeks after having gnawed its brake in the queue of Eataly, it gives it the rue de Richelieu. A bit like the madman delighted to stave off the emptiness by clinging to brush the ceiling, they are there. In the pathetic, in the little flock, between the laughable and the sidewalk, they beat a bitumen happy (or fool, depending on circumstances) in the hope of winning by thirty minutes a minimum of, a place in the last “race against-there-fast” in paris. To those who would like to also include the new comedy of the situation of the stomach, contemporary, everything is there! The incomprehensible pleasure in poireauter ; gymnastics, including one never really knows if it is real or cleverly orchestrated for phishing stud. And this no less curious urge to now excite the small dishes from the street. Because, attention in forty minutes (the queue is growing), we will discover the second sign of a box of broth nippon: the Kodawari Tsujiki. To your wishes!


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