Shot through to Le Tigre, a bistro in Haguenau just across the border in France on the way to an exhibition at the Burda Art Museum in Baden-Baden.
As one does…
In the process of ordering the Menu de Jour (3 courses for €10) when the guys next door got darkish beers “Et un Pression comme ça” I fluented.
“Un Picon?”
“Oui”
She said something else (which I OBVIOUSLY didn’t understand), so I gave her the usual goofy foreigner grin and a Gallic shrug.

Off she went.

Quite pleasant.
A bit on the sweet side, but not bad at all.

Now, I’ve READ about spinal anaesthetic, but this is what it must be like.

“Pretty strong stuff” I said to Ms jb. “I think you’re driving”

Not only did it numb my legs, but I kept prodding myself in the eye with my fork.

Recovered enough (a glass of Cotes du Rhon helped) to get back to the car, but I don’t remember much of the next 30 minutes or so (snored, I’m told…).

Looked it up.

It’s a mixture of beer and Sirop de Picon (21%), proportions variable and based on oranges with quinine and gentian thrown in for good measure.

I have a feeling it was close to half and half…

And the guys next door had TWO of them.
And some wine…

And I worked out what the waitress said, too:

“Il va frapper vos chaussettes baise hors”
Google Translate tells me it means “It’ll knock your fucking socks off”