It's fresh, available, brand new, a bit of a show, so it's called Tata Yoyo. For several weeks, in La Garenne-Colombes, it has shared its small bourgeois square with an Art Deco theater. His cousins from the western suburbs also cultivate the funny brand: Coco Rocco, Splash, Papa Pool, Sapristi, Saperlipopette. They are from Asnières, Puteaux, Suresnes, Clamart. All united under the umbrella of Bistrots Pas Parisiens, a stroke of genius from a group of restaurants launched less than ten years ago by Hakim Gaouaoui to the tune of Paris, it's over.
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So many tables now far from this big city are no longer really, at least very vaguely, on his plate. Addresses which, without being brilliant, already have the merit and the profession of not getting lost in the above ground, the out of control, the overpriced, the bohemian idiot aping the popu and the snobard in the orbit of the city -world. Ten years ago, discovering these strange inns in the inner suburbs, professionals in the profession laughed...
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