Quel Horreur

On Monday, I had another encounter with younger purveyors of shiny technology. Once again I'm reminded that they can do flash well, but the basic foundation is usually suspect. Lunch at Jules Bistro at Queen and Spadina was the finalizing period to that thought.

To be fair, this French diner predated all this disruption, all the way back to 2000. And their sizzle isn't that dazzling, but their core is certainly creaky. Any spot that calls itself a French bistro and put out a French onion soup comprising of cuts of carrots and thin blobs of melted cheese should hang its tête in shame. As for the sandwich, anybody can do bland chicken, and they didn't disappoint.