The Posh Paw Blog

While I’m off chasing a little sunshine and sanity, enjoy a few of my favorite past Daily twirls – still true, still sassy and worth a second spin. See you soon….

Darling, let me tell you something: choosing a favorite restaurant is like choosing a favorite dance partner — I could make it work with most, but when it’s right, it’s unforgettable.

So yes, I do have a favorite. It’s not Michelin-starred or full of paparazzi. It doesn’t require a secret knock or a dinner jacket. But it does have candlelight, perfectly folded napkins, and a maître d’ who calls me mademoiselle in a tone that makes me feel like Audrey Hepburn ordering crème brûlée.

It’s a little place tucked away just off the high street — Le Chiffon Rouge. The name means The Red Rag, which I’m convinced is a nod to either French revolutionaries or flirty tablecloths. Maybe both.

The lighting? Always just dim enough to feel romantic but not so dark you mistake the crème brûlée for the soup.
The music? Jazz, always. Light, effortless, and just loud enough to tap a toe while pretending not to.
And the food? Darling, the food.

I always start with their warm sourdough and salted butter — sounds simple, but it’s divine. Then it’s usually the duck confit or the truffle mushroom risotto, depending on how rebellious I feel. I’ve flirted shamelessly with their dessert menu, but the chocolate tart wins. Every. Time. It’s like silk and sin had a baby.

And don’t even get me started on the wine list. I know it by heart.
(And if you must know: Pinot Noir, second row, third bottle in — my usual.)

What I love most though, isn’t just the food or the ambiance. It’s that feeling.
You walk in stressed, hurried, buzzing with a day that didn’t go your way… and then suddenly, you’re seated, settled, and reminded that life is still beautiful.
Still soft. Still delicious.

It’s not about extravagance — it’s about atmosphere. A space that doesn’t just feed you… it slows you down in the most elegant way possible.

I’ve celebrated here. I’ve sulked here. I’ve shown up in heels, in ballet flats, and once (regrettably) in rain boots. Every time, Le Chiffon Rouge has wrapped me up like a cashmere blanket and said, “Welcome back, Luce.”

And yes — I have led a swing-out between the tables. But only once. And only because the trumpet player dared me.

So now you know. That’s my spot.
If you ever stop by and see a woman in vintage curls sipping red wine in the corner, eyes dreamy and chocolate tart half-devoured?

Come say hi. I’ll save you a spoonful.

Stay Fabulous,
Luce 💋

Like what you read? Darling, this is just the beginning.

Psst… if you liked this, you might want to swing by Luce’s Corner this Sunday at 9 a.m. — subscribers get a little something extra. Just between us.