When you push the doors of Le Castiglione, you enter the world of « Couessie ».
Your worries fly away, obligations disappear, you are home at last. The regulars call it Le Casti, a way of making it a little bit more their own.

You are not in the land of Aragon or Castill’, as in the song of Boby Lapointe, a French singer and songwriter, famous for his puns. But let’s not derail from the matter at hand!

In one glimpse you will see that everything has been thought, chosen, placed where it belongs. In this stylish setting, everything is spick and span. Red velvet padded chairs for your comfort and good taste in your plate. Let your expectancies fly high, they will not be disappointed! The service is high class: “… Sir! It’s time to break the Clust…” as Robert Dalban’s character would say in Les Tontons Flingueurs. In other words it’s time to eat sir!

Who is behind this supper, worthy of the Last? Well the “p’tit cafetier” as his cycling friends like to call him. A nickname Audiard himself could have found. As you may have guest Monsieur Couet is a cycling fan, a high level sportsman. His quest for perfection finds its relief in physical efforts. Close to his staff, very careful to high demands, responsive to the urges of a seasoned clientele.
Between you and me, Fabrice Couet is not from Aveyron but from Béarn, which gives him an extra zest of panache.
Sadly, in 2000, Pierre Couet passed away leaving his son Fabrice to run Le Casti on his own.

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