I may have been too tired to fully enjoy Petite Maison. This intimate, ostensibly French restaurant is tucked into a more boisterous Club district. The patio is charming, but the inside is full of dsconnects.
Music was Argentine tango. Decor was more Swiss or Scandinavian than provencal. Pretzels? Now I'm in Deutschland. The menu was pretty spare when searching for French items.
And it was expensive. "If it's Tuesday, it must be Belgium."
I probably won't go back.