When the Paris autumn air has a constant chill and the days get dark early, there is a need for comfort food for dinner. Comfort to me means warm and tasty and not painfully long to prepare or clean up after.
A poulet roti from the boucher always does the trick. At the boucherie, they know when they see me coming that I'm not asking for a filet mignon. It's always the same. They greet me and politely ask what I would like, but I've noticed that they start heading over to the rotisserie before I've even given my response. I pick out the juiciest-looking roasted chicken; monsieur weighs it and then asks, obligingly, "Et avec ceci?" He knows that I will reply, "Ce sera tout, merci." I love the little dance, even though it never changes.
Next stop is the Quatrehomme Fromagerie across the street where I can get just a small bit of really fresh butter. I've learned not to keep butter for long in the fridge -- better to have small quantities of the really fresh stuff. Otherwise, after a week or so it starts tasting like the past-expiration contents of the refrigerator.
Once home, I warm the chicken in the oven, boil small potatoes and eat them with the tiniest amount of delicious butter and gros sel from Ile de Ré. If I want to be really healthy I'll toss in a few haricots verts from Picard. Quick, lazyman's comfort for a fall evening. Don't forget that glass of bordeaux!