But then he came over with some pita and dips - hummus, baba ganoush, and I'm not sure what the third one was. Next he brought us cups of cold water. (It was in the nineties - high 30s C - today.)
By this time I'd learned that the man who was bringing such pleasure into our chance meal was named Moseafa, and like the restaurant, he's Lebanese, working for his uncle. When I went to pay, he wouldn't take payment for anything more than the original tabouleh.
I forgot to mention the baklava and another sweet as well as a falafel that he brought over for us to taste.
It's not a big place, but the food was great and the hospitality amazing.
Au Vieux Cédre.
On Rue Saint-Jacques..
Here's what it looks like from outside.