There’s a south-western bias at La Fontaine de Mars, which of course doesn’t complicate at all its traditional bistro regime: waiters career gracefully to and fro across the tiled floor, conveying trencherman portions of black pudding with apples, cassoulet and baba au rhum; diners take their time to talk and laugh, especially in summer, when a dozen or so tables are set out in the square, overlooking the eponymous statuary; and wine flows as per usual in such a pleasure-focused establishment. The decorative tropes of the bistro are all in order: the smart banquettes, the brass rails, the mirrors, the menu chalked up on a blackboard. Note that though the red farmhouse tablecloths may be rustic, the pricing definitely isn’t; this humble Gascon kitchen is hard by the Quai Branly and the Eiffel Tower. Do book in advance and try to arrange to be ravenous, rather than merely hungry.