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My go between was the oft-married, blonde, Healdsburg, Ca interior designer Myra Hoefer, whose atelier is across the street and who uses Chez Janou as her personal canteen-with her oversized glasses and great stories she merits a write-up of her own. The bistro recalls the feeling of Pagnol’s classic trilogy of life in Marseilles: FANNY, MARIUS and CESAR, with movie posters and black and white photographs covering the walls dominated by the great Raimu and 80 varieties of pastis to transport you to sunny Provence. We met for a Sunday brunch before going to the flea market at Saint-Ouen. I couldn’t resist the crisp petite friture déperlans (tiny whitebait, floured and fried and served in a basket with aioli on the side.) It reminded me of my favorite cookbook-THE CUISINE OF THE SUN/Mireille Johnston. Myra had the house salad of shrimp, avocado and grapefruit sections. A chilled rosé from Provence, a slice of St Nectaire fermier, coffee and we were off to the flea market. I had several more meals with friends and clients that season and when I returned this year I once again relished the petite friture that reminded me of my first summer in Provence. I was alone and the pupils of the woman at the table directly in front of me dilated as she gasped. I, of course, offered her one of the tiny fish dipped in aioli and was immediately invited to join their table of three for a glass of wine. They were from Australia. She was here to help her son find an apartment and her friend’s husband was a college professor whose family had escaped the Nazi’s. I now have agents in Australia. And just last week the London Art Dealer who had been in Paris for three weeks and had been joined by the London Classical Music impresario for the final week met me for a farewell lunch before packing them and their bags into a taxi to the Gare du Nord. It didn’t start out well-the host was a little full of himself, Rafaelle was put out when we were unhappy with the seating she offered and our waitress Aude offered menus without a smile. I suggested that they rename the place, Le Bistrot sans Sourires (Bistro without Smiles) that brought smiles to the faces of the two gentlemen to our left. Pierre-Philippe was a banker and Henri at one time ran one of the largest ad agencies in Paris. By the time Aude reappeared to take our order she was beaming. We boringly ordered the same delicious meal from the 14.50euro formule of the day: tuna marinated with salmon and grapefruit and a faux-filet with oven-roasted small white potatoes. Our neighbors suggested a red from the Luberon. Henri has a large vacation home in San Remy de Provence and knew the wine. Our conversation featured food, wine, movies and singers; Pierre-Philippe favored Aznavour and Henri, Moustaki. They were both intently into blogging and You Tube and Henri grabbed his camera and recorder for an impromptu interview featuring my singing a few bars of an Aznavour tune and a Tony Bennett arrangement of FLY ME TO THE MOON-coming to You Tube soon. It was just like being at Chez Panisse with Fanny, Marius and Cesar. L’ATLAS I had been lunching alone last week when my journalist friend Judy passed by and joined me for a coffee and we made plans to meet here for lunch since she lived in the neighborhood and was also a fan. It was a gloriously sunny day with temperatures in the mid-eighties and I was typically early so the genial owner escorted me to the bar for a complimentary verre while my waiter guarded a table that was about to be vacated. A few minutes later, on time, Judy and her associate Vivian arrived, received their complimentary wine and we were ushered to our now available table. They plopped down on the banquette and I faced them from my bistro chair. The laminated menu resembles the kind found in a 1950s Miami Beach coffee shop, over-sized with a wide selection of salads, meats, fish, classic French dishes including choucroute garnie, boeuf bourgignon and cheeses and desserts-and in season, an oyster bar. In addition there are several plats du jour and a formule consisting of an entrée, plat and dessert or cheese for only 16 euros. Vivian had a delicious Steak tartare and I had my moules/frites. We shared an huge plate of crisp, crunchy fries. Judy had a gigantic salade niçcoise. A simple demi of cotes du Rhone kept conversation bubbling. And bring an appetite-I dare you to finish the cauldron of moules. At 53 euros for the three of us including a terrific café we went back to work with satisfied grins on our faces. L’Atlas Willi's Wine Bar I had quail with figs as a starter and Mark foie gras with leeks as we sipped an as yet unreleased 2006 Pinot Noir called Evening Land from his personal vineyard in California (more about this delicious wine in the forthcoming complete interview.) We both had the plat du jour, a pavé de rumsteak au poivre with pommes poellés and if you are looking for a bargain the plat du jour An assortment of cheeses eased into our bellies with a Cote Rotie, however, before we could get to coffee and our interview, in walked Claude David, former waiter at Le Grand Vefour (1953) and retired manager of L’Obelisk at the Crillon who joined us for a totally charming and informative discussion of French history, delaying our interview for another day. Paris Pizza Believe it or not one does occasionally tire of foie gras, oysters, champagne, cote de boeuf and Bordeaux and when that happens I head for the best pizza in the sixth, Da Pietro, on the rue Mabillon. Greeted by the ever-charming Ciro Pastore I usually grab my favorite spot on the terrace, but even if you have to wait, especially after 8PM, he will dazzle you with his Neapolitan charm and deliver your wine curbside. Although the house features homemade pasta, grilled meats, calamari, scampi, gambas and moules I invariably opt for the pizza. An individual pie with a crisp crust direct from the wood-fired oven from where Patrizia keeps a watchful eye it never fails to satisfy. My preference is for the simple-Margherita or Isabella (tomato, mozzarella, anchovy and oregano) although there are fourteen others to choose from including pescatore and quatro formaggi. If you opt to share a pizza with a demi of Italian red you can be out the door for about 20 euros total. If you can’t wait, send a scout over to the sister restaurant Golfe de Naples at 8 Rue Clément and see if a table is available. Equally famous for its pizza and being Marcello Mastroianni’s preferred pizzeria when wooing Catherine Deneuve who lives nearby. Da Pietro Robert et Louise I first heard about this place over 17 years ago from my Sausalito pal, Doctor Bob, who used to live in the Marais before it become gentrified. He claimed that the owner Robert Georget was happy on Brouilly by 9PM and that a festive atmosphere prevailed. I had passed by many times without venturing in. A small, 28 cover space with bare wooden tables, exposed centuries-old beams and a built in fireplace for grilling meats it recalls a Paris of the pre-war era. We were ushered to a table ronde for six that enabled us to spread out and relax. Our menu decision was made before we sat down–the cotes de boeuf that was being devoured by a family of three as we entered. Overhearing their conversation it was clear that they were Brooklynoises and that although from the same neighborhood and the same age mom and I hadn’t dated during adolescence. The beef comes from Austria, is generously seasoned with sel de mer that brings out the natural flavor and juices of the meat that is grilled over the wood-burning fire and arrives on a wooden plank accompanied by sautéed potatoes and a tossed green salad. We knew to finish the meat and potatoes first, which we did with a demi of cotes du Rhone. We had started with smoked herring and vegetables in olive oil on a bed of lettuce-delicious and not enough to prevent us from enjoying every morsel of the beef, including the bone. I invited Robert’s daughter Pascale to join us and talk about the history of Robert et Louise which was conceived when Parisian Robert met Louise from Limousin on the Paris-Nice train. In 1958 they opened the Bar des Fleurs, named for the tiles that cover the lower half of the dining room walls. It only filled half of the existing space and ice was sold in the back-no refrigerators at the time, no Betty Furness assuring us that we could be sure if it was Westinghouse. As we awaited our cheese plate, an assortment of Brie de Meaux, Cantal and bleu de Bresse, Pascale filled our empty wine glasses and showed us black and white photographs of her father, mother and sister at home and in the bistro. I don’t remember how but somehow we began singing Aznavour and Moustaki songs and I knew that this would become a regular habit for me. Before we could call for l’addition, madame made us coffee and served us two snifters of la Vielle Prune, the wonderful eau-de-vie distilled from plums. And before we cold leave, a famished, young English-speaking couple form Croatia walked in but the fire had been put out and no steaks were available so I walked them to the fireplace where Pascale removed the lid from a heavy iron pot where beef had been braising for hours in preparation for tonight’s dinner service. Need I say that they stayed? The young man sat down and reached back over his shoulder and filled my wine glass in thanks. Diane Johnson once told me that my liver would adapt to Paris drinking patterns-if not, what a way to go. Robert et Louise Saint-Paul Le Mesturet Le Mesturet is a classic Parisian bistro near the Bourse that overflows at lunchtime with an equal ratio of men to women in search of consistently good food and wine at reasonable prices. For starters Uncle Den-Den and I ordered the aubergines grillé à la tomate au chèvre frais and Dr. P., one of the world’s leading neuro-biologists working on the causes of Parkinsons chose fromage blanc ciboulette et ail on a bed of arugula-and this is a house that is not afraid of garlic-silkily fantastique. Alain recommended a Cote Roannaise (Gamay) from his excellent cave that features wines from producers whom he knows personally. As a main course Den-Den had a second starter, rillette de lapin au romarin et pain de campagne grille. I chose the plat du jour, a grenadin de veau (filet) and Dr. P savored an aioli de morue fraiche avec legumes vapeur. Over coffee another surprise awaited-Alain arrived with three snifters of La Vielle Prune, a distillate of plums with a finish redolent of the fruit and at 42% alcohol it packs a wallop. Since the bottle was nearly empty Alain encouraged us to drain it-hardly necessary. At 19.50 for the two courses and a mere 20 euros for the wine we barely crossed the 80 euros threshold. Le Mesturet Laurent On a beautiful Friday afternoon I joined three fellow journalists for a sun-filled luncheon on the walled terrace that keeps peering eyes away. Seated at our left, clad in his signature powder blue suit and spectacles, was Michou, the famous transvestite performer and owner of Chez Michou and directly in a front of me against the wall was Paul Wolfowitz, one of the Neo-cons (is that conservative or convict?) responsible for the Iraq War. A plate of ameuse-geules was immediately placed before us and a bottle of Givry 1er Cru (Pinot Noir) 2006 Domaine Jablot was opened before a truly grand three-hour meal. To start I had Petit Pois comme un guacamole (Garden peas mounded and covered by a crispy bacon pancake upon which sat a feathery ball of pureed peas that was about as heavy as a marshmallow surrounded by a sea of olive oil and pureed pea vinaigrette-almost too beautiful to eat. Margaret had Arraigné de mer (spider crab in it’s own jelly served in a martini glass with creamed fennel that she refused to share! Maryse had fumé de thon et foie gras de canard mi-cuit (smoked tuna and duck liver cooked in glazed rhubarb and Alec opted for simplicity –a whole lobster salad prepared à table. Margaret moved on to a spit-roasted pigeon accompanied by a hollow piece of corn on the cob filled with a puree of black beans and celery-this she fortunately did not Bogart and I had a delicious bite of the pigeon breast. I opted for a simple but impeccable filet Saint-Pierre. Alec proceeded with steamed sole, rolled and seasoned with chorizo, white asparagus and capers and Maryse enjoyed the Turbot Meuniere with white beans and morilles. The cheese tray was rolled out and we selected Tamier, Maroilles, brind’amour, Langes and spoonful of sirop de diège. We settled on two desserts: a feathery orange blossom soufflé and a gaufrette of fraises des bois while being joined by Chef Alain Pégouret. Born and raised in Cannes to a an architect and his real estate agent wife Alain’s culinary interest was initially aroused by his grandmother and his father who took him to meals at fine restaurants. He started reading about food by buying cookbooks with the money he didn’t spend on cafeteria meals starting with Paul Bocuse’s legendary Cuisine de Marché. His cooking skills were honed at Joel Robuchon’s Jamin and Christian Constant, first at the Crillon and later at Le Violin d’Ingres. Laurent is currently rated 1-star by Michelin but if today’s meal is any indication it won’t be long before it earns a second. Laurent Chez Karole Karole’s is not a tourist destination, you won’t find it in guidebooks and my friends may pillory me for revealing our secret. On a recent visit the four bar stools at the entrance were occupied and a few of the eighteen seats were available. Uncle Den-Den and I were joined by Alvin Stillman, a bar and jazz club operator from San Francisco who had stopped in Paris en route to his country house. WARNING: Be prepared to patiently drink wine (it’s unbelievably reasonable) while waiting for your meal. Karole’s is a one-woman show- she hosts, cooks to order and serves. Den-Den chose two appetizers-grilled caille and grilled aubergines. Alvin and I shared the garlicky aubergines and had a brochette d’agneau served over the lightest perfumed rice. Two bottles of Cotes du Rhone to wash it down and we were out the door for 45 euros. PS Don’t spread the word too vigorously-we don’t want to overwhelm Karole. I enjoy this neighborhood very much and will be drawing on it for future reports. CHEZ KAROLE Les Racines En route I had passed a petite bistro du coin with intriguing prices and I retraced my steps and entered. The menu featured assortment of grilled steaks, steak tartare, salads, drinkable wines and daily specials. Although it was only 12:45 the poulet roti à l’estragon that my neighbor was savoring had already sold out. The other specials were filet mignon, sauce moutarde, gratin de macaroni au jambon and a crispy crusted tarte au legumes that each of the party of three at my left enjoyed. I had tartare on my mind and at 12 euros with salad and frites was every bit is good as the 19-euro version at Le Rostand accompanied by a 25cl pot of cotes du Rhone for 4.50 euros. I finished off the remaining wine a bleu d’ Auvergne. Les Racines There is nothing like the feeling of a repentant woman eager to atone for her sins. An internationally renowned writer without a cell phone had completely forgotten our luncheon engagement, leaving me to enjoy the terrine de sanglier, pavé and fromage blanc/chantilly alone. She insisted on treating me to lunch in expiation. Her choice was Huiterie Régis in the 6th. A tiny space –only 14 seats, pristine with white tiled walls serving thinly sliced saussicon, huitres, crevettes and a wine list dominated by Sancerres and Muscadets-it is simplicity personified. An assortment of Armagnac and Cognac is on hand. We skipped the digetsifs but all was forgiven. Huiterie Régis is open every day except Monday from September –July 15 when Régis and two pals pack up 3 mules and do their annual climb of Jebl Toukbal high in Morocco’s Atlas Mountains. At 4,167 meters she is Africa’s tallest. Huiterie Régis Le Manège de l’Ecuyer
I was very disappointed to discover last year that they had retired and the new owner clearly hadn’t a clue about running restaurant. So what a treat when my daughter, who had just moved around the corner, took me to a new place that had only been open for a mere two weeks at 8 rue de la Sourdière. The new owner/chef, Kamel is as charming as his food is wonderful and correctly priced. Disdaining the toque for a simple white hat that makes him look more like a soda jerk/hamburger flipper at a fifty’s drive-in or Johnny Rocket’s he can be seen through the kitchen cutout producing beautifully presented meals that are classic, filling and yet light. Before you have an opportunity to open the menu a kir will be set before you. A second visit with author Carolyn Burke after a Paris Through Expatriate Eyes salon featured grilled saumon aux pates, faux fillet au Roquefort preceded by fromage blanc aux ciboulette and for dessert fresh fruit macedoine served in a martini glass. On the third occasion I was the guest for what turned out to be a three-hour lunch with two charming clients from Houston-Deborah and her mom Doris, about whom a book should be written. Calling ahead I knew we’d have chévre chaud to start, blanquette de veau and was pleasantly surprised when we were offered a crème brulée accented by star anise for parfum. The house Cotes-du-Rhone at 7.5 euros the half bottle flowed and coffee was accompanied by Cognac, the bottle remaining on the table for our pleasure. At 18.50 euros for the lunch formule (entrée, plat, dessert La Manège has quickly become one of my favorites and if you present your Paris Passport from our PARIS SURVIVAL KIT you will be given a 10% reduction from your bill. Le Manège de L’Ecuyer
I arrived a little after noon, a few minutes early for my meeting with two guys from Google, headquartered in the neighborhood, so I ordered a Cotes du Rhone for company. Since the French don’t dash out the door at the crack of twelve to get a fast sandwich on the run before returning to their desks the bar level dining room was empty. Four habitués were standing at the bar: two regular guys-no suits nor ties and missing the identical front tooth; two women of une certaine age, a grey/blonde and Marie-France, dressed in a black dress with black hair coiffed in the style of a 1940’s movie. After bonjours all around they were curious about my nationalité. I did my Italian impression as I am often mistaken for Northern Italian in Paris and answered “Vicino Milano” which they bought. I then truthfully admitted to being Brooklynois, the Marseille of America. Marie-France was très sympa and I staked her to a coupe de champagne before joining my just arriving colleagues at a nearby table where a verre immediately arrived compliments of Marie-France. Food is classic, copious and cheap. Boudin noir, andouilette, souris d’agneau from 10-12 euros. At the end of the meal Albert sent a round of eau de vie. On a second occasion I climbed the narrow, steep staircase to the dining room where one woman charmingly controls thirty diners. My neighbor directed me to a boeuf bourgignon so delicious that it required a whole baguette to sop up the wine and beef juices. In the far corner, sitting alone was an elegantly dressed blonde of that certaine age with hair pulled back to reveal an exquisite face and bejeweled golden earrings that reflected a color in her Chanel jacket. Moments later she was joined by a gentleman and after the obligatory two cheek bisous they began to gaze lovingly into each others eyes-ah Paris-Disneyland for adults. When the bill arrived, a shocking 13.50 euros including a glass of wine, I was 1.50 short of the minimum required for using a carte bancaire so I opted for the best tartes aux figues I have ever tasted-no crème fraiche required. Total bill 18.50 euros-Total satisfaction Le Rubis Chez Marianne
Falafel lovers will argue vociferously as to who makes the best on the rue des Rosiers but I like my falafel with ambience: Orthodox Jews in black hats and coats, young Sephardim in the contemporary togs of youth with yamicas bobby-pinned to their heads, pretty young girls with long blonde hair from Australia, America and Scandinavia, and from the gay community just across the rue Vielle de Temple-same sex couples of every description–a perfect place to enjoy a leisurely lunch of hummous, tahine, falafel, grilled eggplant, poivrons, pita, and a chilled rosé finished off with baklava and mint tea for less than 20 euros. In summer tables practically spill out onto the street and around the corner onto a small plaza adjacent to the Elementary School for Jewish Boys that André attended, as did 165 who were shipped off to the death camps during the war. The plaque on the outside wall is a perpetual reminder. The streets teem with shoppers and tourists–many stepping up to the take-out window for a giant falafel as sauce dripping down their fingers they window-shop up and down the narrow, ancient streets. 2 Rue Vieille du Temple.
Bouquet ST Paul I had my first verre here in 1995 but after living in the neighborhood for a few months and numerous visits I’ve become addicted to its simple charms. Au Bouquet St. Paul is the quintessential bistro du coin. Mornings find businessmen and workmen side by side at the bar for an espresso and shop girls and laptop users sipping their crèmes at a table. Dinner always features a few cuisine grandmère formule options like gigot d’agneau, poulet roti or a simple but excellent preparation of the “catch” of the day. On the last day of my recent trip I met my daughter for lunch. We were greeted with a complimentary kir before ordering the formule at 14.80 euros. Moule farcis for Patricia and for me a creamy avocat/crevette preparation that left those California avocados in the dust. We both leapt at the chance to enjoy an ongelot, the butcher’s cut of steak, that was up to their standards-high quality meat, a generous portion and cooked segnant as we like it. We passed on the selection of Berthillon ice creams and sorbets, opting for a classic crème caramel and tarte aux pommes. A pichet (25cl) of Morgon at 4.75 euros from their complete selection of Beaujolais was the perfect beverage on this warm day. Two espressos and several hugs and kisses later we said adieu. The cost of the meal was a mere 34.30 euros (tax & tip included.) Lunch in Paris with my daughter-priceless. Au Bouquet St.Paul
The baby brother of the cavernous Bistro Fernande offers an edited version of their soul-satisfying, cuisine grandmère in a quieter and more intimate setting. If you present your PARIS Survival Kit Olivier will offer a complimentary kir upon arrival or if as on my most recent visit, a coupe de champagne. Friends from San Francisco were in town and we began by sharing two entrées: a rillette d’oie avec pain grillée and a creamy tartar of crevettes et avocats that were more than enough for everyone. Two salmon were deliciously roasted and accompanied by a purée of zucchini in basil. Not a drop of that vegetable remained on either plate. A classic steak tartare-nothing fancy just hand cut and prepared from a great piece of meat. These people have a great butcher and my morceau with a confit d’eschalottes and purée pommes de terres never disappoints. Having just finished Rudy Chelmincki’s new book about Beaujolais, I’ll DRINK TO THAT I opted for a 2005 Thevent Morgon- at a mere 22 euros. One more treat awaited; Kirsch-laced girottes in a bowl of fromage blanc with 3 spoons, however, when it arrived the abstainer could not resist. We walked out to the bright light of a June evening fully content and we barely broke the 100 euro mark. Le P’tit Fernande Astier
I arrived at 1pm after having escorted a few San Franciscans on an edited version (time constraints) of PTEE’s PARIS AU FLANEUR Frederic greeted me with a glass of a 2002 Santenay from Bourgogne (100% chardonnay) to accompany a slab of exquisite fois gras. A pintade fermière, guaranteed free-range (guinea hens can’t survive under artificial light) and a fluffy bowl of pommes de terres purée savored with a Grand Cru 2002 St.Emillion selected from the extraordinary cave that was included in the purchase of the restaurant. Since Frederic prices his wines based on his original cost and not what the market will bear you can expect some exceptional values. All of this was merely a prelude to the plateau de fromages Astier. David, my sommelier de fromage selected seven for me (my limit not his) including camembert au calvados, St. Marcellin, Epoisse and a regale de Bourgogne aux raisins. The St. Emillion worked perfectly. Dessert was a tall, feathery baba au rhum with chantilly on the side and a bath of dark Cuban rum. Since the meal and company were both wonderful, three hours later I didn’t feel as if I’d gained an ounce. The price for the meal, not including wine was a mere 29.50 euros plus a small supplement for the foie gras and baba au rhum! And as a PTEE Preferred Bistro you will receive a complementary apèro upon presentation of your Paris Survival Kit.44 rue de J-P Timbaud 75011 Au Bon St–Pourcain Almost simultaneous with your seating glasses of white St. Pourçain will be placed on your table. If you’re like me the powerful aroma of garlic as you entered will lead you to order a dozen of the mouthwatering mollusks that have been bathed in garlicky butter and parsley and finished off in the oven. I love the consistency here so I usually opt for old friends like suris d’agneau or cassoulet but the sole meuniere is perfect if you want something lighter. François could easily advertise his coffee as Paris’ worst but he generously adds a hit of calvados to make it palatable. 10 bis, rue Servandoni
Juju will greet you at the door with a charming smile and a few words of English but the food is all-French, simple, wonderful and portions, even by American standards, generous. On my last visit I had a buttery foie de veau (calves liver sauté) that eradicated all memory of that charred, inedible product that my mother served on Wednesday nights. A well-thought out list of reasonably priced wines adds to the pleasure of a delightful meal that doesn’t require an emergency trip to the nearest ATM. Chez Julien Two friends and I got together on a whim on a chilly Saturday night in December and rushed off to Bistrot d’ Henri in search of stick-to-the-ribs nostalgia like fois de veau and magret de canard with pommes de terres BUT we were too late, the bistro was complet for at least another hour. Owner Juju (Julien) had a solution. He tossed on a jacket escorted us around the corner to the former Lou Pescadou now transformed into Chez Julien. A far more modern ambiance but all of the hallmarks of Bistrot d’Henri-a similar but slightly lighter menu, the same reasonably priced wine list (Graves rouge at 19 euros the bottle) and charming bilingual service. 16 rue de Mabillon La Palette On the rue de Seine in the heart of the art gallery scene you don’t come here for the food, although, a charcuterie plate and a glass of red enjoyed on the terrace is my idea of a perfect afternoon. What you do come for is the relaxed, off the tourist beat ambience and Jean-François who imperiously presides over the terrace handing out seat assignments like the soup Nazi ladles out his creations. But when you earn voisin status you’ll feel truly special. 43 rue de Seine
FISH Juan Sanchez left Miami to study cooking and wound up creating a great wine shop, La Dernière Goutte which supplies the wines for the provençal inspired meals that he turns out. His partner, Drew Harré, came to Paris from New Zealand, fell in love and stayed. Together they have created a marriage of an American bar, Irish pub and French bistro that attracts locals as well as in-the-know Anglophones. 69 rue de Seine Chez Paul You can start with a sharable order of classic paté or rillette de lapin ou porc and if you want to save a few euros for a calvados the pichets of house wines are eminently drinkable. Open for dinner but I especially like it for a weekend lunch on a wintry day when regulars and familes abound. 13 rue de Charonne (at rue de Lappe) Chez Omar An unpretentious hangout for fashionistas where owner Omar Guerida pops in and out at mealtimes to maintain a watchful eye and selectively tablehop. With a name like Omar you can naturally select from a couscous menu that includes grilled skewered lamb, spicy merguez sausage, a lamb shank, or chicken as well as a wide selection of bistro-style steaks. No need to splurge on a big Bordeaux-opt for an Algerian or Moroccan wine. And when Omar approaches your table he’ll greet you in English or French and as I found out on my first visit-even Spanish. I was the guest of a regular and when we declined an offer of dessert Omar went to the bar and returned with a bottle of Saint-Emillion that I enjoyed with friends over a home-cooked meal the following night-almost as much as I enjoyed telling the story. No reservations but waiting can be fun. No credit cards. No lunch Sun. 47 rue de Bretagne, Paris, France Le Pamphlet After several days of multiple business meetings a colleague invited me here for yet another meeting but this little gem is quiet and elegantly appointed –a welcome oasis of calm. Chef /owner Alain Carrere’s market-driven prix-fixe menu of comfort foods artistically presented is easily paired with a well-chosen wine list that partner “just call me Fred" constantly tweaks with new finds like our 2003 Aubaï-Mema, a Vin blanc de Pays d' Oc. | |||||||
FOR RESERVATIONS AND OTHER INFORMATION, email or call us at 06-7098-1368 |
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is served during lunch at the bar with a glass of very drinkable wine for a mere 15.50 euros per person.
Huiterie Régis
A dozen to start followed by a wedge of cheese, a fruit tarte if you have room and coffee. 
Several years ago I was taken to a tiny, 20 cover, family run bistro at 8 rue de la Sourdière near l’Eglise de Saint-Roch in the 1st arrondissement near the Louvre and shopping on the rue St.-Honoré. The couple was from Provence as was the soul-satisfying reasonable priced menu with an attractively priced wine list. I went back for second helpings before leaving town.
Le Rubis has been an institution long before la Place du Marché St-Honoré became cool. Albert presides over the bar, as he has for 39 years, doling out a vast menu of very drinkable wines from 1.4 euros for a petit verre to 3 euros for a regular glass.
André Jorno’s Tunisian mother opened the first Sephardic grocery
on this rue de Rosiers location in the early 50’s when the Marais was still the predominantly Ashkenazi Jewish neighborhood it had been since the Middle Ages.
Le P’tit Fernande
Just a few blocks from the République metro station at the junction of the northern end of the Marais and the 11th arrondissement Frederic Hubig of Café Moderne has applied his talents into turning this classic old Paris bistro into a vibrant bistro du coin that attracts diners from all over Paris or like the couple seated to my left from Mexico City.
Le Bistrot d’ Henri