Sunday dinner

Ren preferred eating in while we were in France, but we finally prevailed and convinced her that we came to France to enjoy eating out. It was Sunday when we accomplished this. On Sunday, French folks eat home. Nothing is open!
We asked her host family for a recommendation for a place we could have a nice dinner out, and they were perplexed at first and then recalled a place near Notre Dame that was open on Sundays, La Bouteille d'Or. We walked through the drizzle, past Shakespeare & Company (note to self: go back when open, on Monday) to the restaurant, and unsettlingly, we were the only people in the place.
The waiter was young, nice and then we were turned over to a young person who seemed to have completed her restaurant training in the US: Unlike most of the people who had served us so far, this person avoided making eye contact with us for almost the entire meal.
The food was fine, if not memorable. I think John had lentils and osso bucco? and Ren went for veal, and I had a filet done the French way (why did the waiter ask me how I wanted the meat if it only comes the French way, which luckily was how I like it?). Berthillon Glacier ices for dessert. A nice Croze Hermitage. A pleasant, but not necessary to repeat, meal.