Rue du Faubourgh-Saint Denis is the one area I've seen so far which comes close to being an Indian 'gali' (small lane) - hustle-bustle, loud talk, meat shops, 'dhaba' like restaurants and even sweet shops.
Anil and I looked up at the maroon canvas protruding out of the restaurant front. The name in bold golden letters read 'Sheezan'. In the same gold, two font sizes less and italicized it read: Indien Pakistanese Cuisine. I nearly flipped, Anil (a Kashmiri with some rather strong views on the P word) flipped twice over.
Sure we'd walked all the way from Saint Michel Metro to have an Indian dinner, but the Pakistani bit was hard to digest. The world-over people have relished Indian 'naan bread', tandoori chicken and 'spicy curry' but whoever heard of Parkistani food?
If you think a little, the reason for this maroon banner gluing the names of the two deeply divided nations is easy to understand. The owner is obviously a Pakistani, he is obviously a businessman. If you are a restaurant owner and ask yourself a simple question - What sells? Indian food or Parkistani food? The answer isn't too hard to come up with. At the same time would you want to alienate your Pakistani brethren who came looking for food? Aaah! Mon Dieu! Non! You wouldn't. Hence, the maroon banner of live and let live - resolving 52 years of conflict, the 65 war, the 71 war, bodies in Siachen, terrorism in Kashmir and the battle of Batalik.
Would our Pakistani friend have put up a restaurant with the same maroon banner in Pakistan? Bonding the names of the two countries so inseparably?
'I think not', I think to myself as I sink my teeth into a BigMac. I look across at Anil, he is digging into his Chicken McNugget.
'Pass the ketchup.'