Le Bouchon: Straight Outta Paris

I'm not sure why I don't seek out French food more often. A few years ago, I spent months in Paris, wandering the narrow side streets in search of the flakiest croissant and the tenderest coq au vin. Despite the taste I developed for the bold yet simple flavors of the regional cuisine, I can't say that I've craved French food since. Not once.
Of course, that all changed with one simple dish: the unbelievable salade lyonnaise at Le Bouchon. Imagine perky little greens dotted with giant tears of lardons (impossibly delicious strips of fatty bacon), crunchy croutons and a perfectly runny poached egg. Words can't describe the satisfaction in discovering a still-warm hunk of bacon buried beneath a mess of field greens when you're two bottles of pinot gris into the meal.