La Pause Jap sur Paris

19/08/2026: Great bar and staff, Victor and Agathe were very welcoming. Decent food, I will be back

14/08/2026: It's the only one that matters. The others, increasingly long, increasingly innocuous, offer only a lukewarm sludge, a wasteful abundance. The last one, perhaps, regains a semblance of power with the disillusionment of finishing… But the first sip! Sip? It begins well before the throat. On the lips already, that frothy gold, freshness amplified by the foam, then slowly on the palate, happiness tinged with bitterness. How long the first sip seems! We drink it immediately, with a deceptively instinctive eagerness. In fact, everything is predetermined: the quantity, that neither too much nor too little that makes the ideal opening; the immediate well-being punctuated by a sigh, a click of the tongue, or a silence that is worth them; the deceptive sensation of a pleasure that opens onto infinity… At the same time, we already know. All the best is taken. We set down our glass, even moving it slightly away on the small blotting paper. We savor the color, a false honey, a cold sun. Through a whole ritual of wisdom and waiting, we would like to master the miracle that has just occurred and yet slipped away. We read with satisfaction on the side of the glass the precise name of the beer we ordered. But container and contents can question each other, answer each other in an abyss, nothing will multiply again. We would like to keep the secret of pure gold, and lock it away in formulas. But before his small white table splashed with sunlight, the disappointed alchemist saves only appearances, and drinks more and more beer with less and less joy. It is a bitter happiness: we drink to forget the first sip.