Bistrot 916 review
There's something very Ratatouille about Bistrot 916. I don't mean there is a rat called Remy in the basement; I mean it has a larger-than-life, Pixar-animated quality that immediately transports you to your own fantasy of a Parisian bistro. It's not just the bentwood chairs, milk glass pendants, steak frites and walls of wine that create the romance; nor the folding glass doors imprinted with "Poisson" and "Service Rapide". Not even the sturdy, short-stemmed wine glasses, or the staff in loose white waiters' jackets. You know what it is? It's the cheesy salmon-coloured tablecloths, somethin...