It was 1972 and La Bonne Soupe had recently opened. Our teacher, Mrs. Schuldenfrei, wanted to expose my fifth grade class to le vrai cuisine de la France. I had recently forced my mother to "bake" frozen croissants which I liked to stuff with jam. My buddy Jay had threatened to bring maple syrup to pour on his crepes and was told he'd be in big trouble if he did. Flash forward to 2009-same place, same decor. Great onion soup; on a par with my go to places Balthazar and Artisanal (neither of which are really French!). The brandade was decent and the French cider as good as I've ever had. I had to smile as I thought of Mrs. Schuldenfrei try, too late, to stop Jay from pulling out a little plastic pill bottle he had snuck into his coat pocket that was filled with maple syrup which he did indeed pour all over his pancakes, er, crepes.