We entered Bar Breton with high hopes, not only because we admire the food of Brittany, but also because we had enjoyed chef Cyril Renaud's efforts at Fleur de Sel. But this place is a sorry rif on northern French cuisine, hammed up with useless fusion. Our lobster carbonara crepe was really just a lackluster soup poured over a shredded crepe, the foie gras terrine a slimy puck (though the salad around it was delicious), and the hamburger arrived underdone and tasting of moisture rather than meat. The booths are so cramped, the ass-cheeks of many diners will hang grotesquely over the side of the benches.
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