The cafeteria on the 9th floor of the Printemps is one of my favorite unpretentious Paris hangs. Not only do they make a mean apple crumble pie (the steak-frites is good too), but it also flaunts some of the most shameless views of the city. It's the kind of place you want to sit down with your grandma to explain why the red soled shoes you tried to make her buy cost more than her little Fiat.
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