The weather was sunny, cold, with a frigid wind (but not as cold as it had been the two previous days). The company was Todd and two friends who moved to Minnesota a few months ago and who had some big news. The place was Pigalle, a French bistro that's just two blocks down from my office. All these elements came together to take me out of my day Friday, to forget about the office and the cold and the things I don't like about my life for a while.

Tucked into a table along the back wall, we had a view of the big, bright room lined with windows and mirrors. We almost all ordered bistro standards: fragrant onion soup with a thick layer of melted cheese on top and bread soaking up the broth, a thick, fluffy omelet, steak frites (and one order of ravioli that looked great). I had a frisee salad with lardons and a poached egg on top. Happy, happy, happy.

I have to get back to try the onion soup. It smelled awesome. And it's easy to see myself stopping in there for lunch one day, alone with my magazine without feeling ill-at-ease, for a warming crockful.