The Coupe-Chou has not always been what it is today, a vast residence where small steep corridors lead us to a multitude of small warm rooms full of history. The restaurant, in 1962, the year it opened, had only one room called the "Barbershop", which is now in the centre of the establishment.

Work continued after the opening, and if the only restaurant room already had the charm it still has, it was the side rooms that were improvised as best as possible.

Thus, customers who had not made a reservation had got into the habit of waiting in a cellar no more than one metre sixty feet high. So they waited in vaulted ceilings for their turn. And I would like to point out that the house absolutely did not reimburse the physiotherapist's fees! But the whole of Paris was rushing to have the pleasure of waiting folded in two in one of the oldest cellars in the capital! It was really the first signs of success.

One evening, when the cellar was full of future scoliosis patients, a bunch of regulars entered Coupe-Chou : Francis Joffo, Jean Le Poulain and Robert Hirsch. The great stars of French theatre had decided to introduce the house to... Marlène Dietrich! At Coupe-Chou , it was necessary to welcome this great lady, this world star. From success, we could go to triumph! But first of all, we had to find a place for her, no question of sending her to the cellar! Luckily, a table became available and we set up our national and international stars next to the fireplace. We're in the care of the movie star. Suddenly, however, when this kind of urge comes even to the older girls, she asks for the toilet. And then the three directors, Francis Nani, Francis Lemonnier and Christian Azzopardi, who had been crazy with joy until then, went pale together. We try to save time. We offer the aperitif. She asks for a second time, we bring the appetizers. She asks a third time, we had to answer. And, with death in their souls, the three directors of Coupe-Chou , who have taken refuge in silence, reach out their arms towards the path to the toilet.

The work wasn't finished and we were improvising the next steps, as I've already said. And Marlene Dietrich was heading for the next door.

The restaurant didn't really have toilets, so we used the toilets in the building. At that time, not all apartments in the working-class districts had their amenities, and the Latin Quarter in 1962 was not the bo-bo district of today. To go to the toilet, you had to go out into a small courtyard. It was raining and the Blue Angel had to wet his wings to reach a worm-eaten wooden door whose delicacy let the lower legs of the occupants see through. That was Causette on the farm.

The great Marlene opens the door and discovers the undeniable mark of the great houses: toilets à la Turque! That's right, these collective toilets were always Turkish style. The comfort was total!

Meanwhile, the three directors, the two Francis and Christian, were gradually becoming as white as the napkins. A few moments later, the courtyard door opens to whoever is throwing the cantonade with its inimitable German accent: "It's great, it reminds me of the bombings during the war! "She was amused, the evening was saved. And the three directors were gradually getting back to normal colour.

But, despite everything, every time Marlene came back, it always seemed to us that she had taken precautions before!