Myself and three other “idiots abroad” stumbled on an amazing restaurant in Paris one night.
It was also a JAZZ Club with a live JAZZ band.
Me and one other ordered burgers. WELL DONE. I’d already learned from previous experience here that French Chefs refuse to understand the Well Done meat. As in cooked and not raw.
Our Well Done Burgers came. And were RAW & BLOODY in the middle. French Well Done?
Lost in translation, methinks. Though the band was brilliant and somehow (?) the barman taught me how to make a mojito from scratch. Shrug!
I WILL NOT TOUCH THE TARTAR(e) vibe :o)