Dining Out and About

Three new Paris restaurants

November 4, 2015 by Ann

Creature of habit that I am, when I’m in Paris, I usually stick to my favorite places. Visiting the same spots is comforting, the owners know me (or I recognize them), and that makes me feel like a local. But when I was recently gifted with almost six weeks in the City of Light, I knew I had to “profiter” (as they say in French), or seize the opportunity (as we say in English) and try a few new Paris restaurants. Here are three of my favorites:

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Clamato

Opened by critic’s darling, Bertrand Grébaut of Septime, this is a seafood-centric spot, with a lot of counter seating and a no-reservations policy. Consider yourself forewarned — the voices you hear here will not be French, neither the customers, nor the staff. If this doesn’t bother you — and why would it? Paris is an international city, after all — you’ll be charmed by the pretty plates and their fresh combinations. A friend and I popped in here for a late Sunday lunch, lingering over the paper menu of small shared dishes. I won’t bury the lede — my favorite was the fried “merlan colbert,” a whole whiting, butterfly fileted, breaded, and deep fried, served with its teeth bared (€21). The flesh, flaky and fine underneath crisp coating, was lifted by the bright punch of a cornichon-studded tartar sauce. I also liked a first course of raw tuna slices, elegantly entwined with roasted red peppers, basil, dill, and soft nuggets of faisselle, or fresh, milky cheese (€14). The marinated mackerel with mirabelle plums, pumpkin seeds, and sarriette, or summer savory, was less successful for my palate, with the oily power of the fish overwhelming the delicate fruit (€12). But if (like my friend, Anna), you like mackerel, you may love this dish (she did!). The bread here deserves special mention — crusty, with a satisfying crumb, and earthy buckwheat chew.

Clamato is a fresh, festive spot, perfect for a date à deux — preferably with someone who likes to share plates and trade tastes.

Salt Restaurant

My friend, Erin, discovered this new restaurant on her way to work and though we have a tradition of crêperie dates (or maybe I made that up?), she convinced me to meet her here for lunch. Salt opened this summer, with the kitchen run by Daniel Morgon, a British chef who has spent time in Japan, Sweden, Denmark, and Italy. The €19 lunch formule (entrée + plat, or plat + dessert) allowed us to sample most of the menu. For a first course, we ordered pigeon, speared with a bay leaf stem, grilled rare, and draped over a giblet sauce, the type of rich, deeply flavored emulsion that reaches into your heart and tugs a little. The other first course (no photo) was a light and sparkly hand-cut mackerel tartar mixed with avocado and ginger vinaigrette. Main courses also bridged late summer and early fall. Autumn beckoned from a dish of tender pork shoulder, poached and then roasted succulent, paired with celery root puree and girolle mushrooms. Meanwhile, summer lingered in the lightly smoked filet of haddock, floating in a verdant pool of chive dashi broth, delicate and deceptively deep flavored.

Bright flavors, clever combinations, beautiful plates, an honest expression of craftsmanship and care. What a lovely, unexpected discovery!

New Paris restaurants - post on www.annmah.net

Le Triangle

Before the photo above was taken, I — along with friends Camille and Nick — had consumed one bottle of red wine, one bottle of Champagne, and one small jar of goose pâté. So, yes, the photo is blurry and our spirits were high at this jolly microbrasserie/gastropub, one of Camille and Nick’s favorite spots in Paris. The team behind this spot has roots in Québec, Vietnam, and a few haute kitchens of Paris. They brew their own beers in this very spot (!) — I liked the IPA, as well as the Stout — and have created a menu of small plates with attitude (in a good way). We shared housemade thick-cut potato chips dipped in chive crème fraîche, and then tucked into a plate of teriyaki pork, sautéed at high heat until the edges caramelized. We also shared pigeon, some other savory dishes, and — at some point — tiramisu… but, folks, it was, er, late, and my memory is weak. We had fun, though!

Details of this evening are hazy but the feelings surrounding them gleam with crystal clear positivity. This is a jolly spot with terrific beer and good food that hits the magic balance of bon rapport qualité prix.

Clamato
80 rue de Charonne
75011 Paris
01 43 72 74 53

Salt Restaurant
6 rue Rochebrune
75011 Paris
01 73 71 56 98

Le Triangle
13 rue Jacques Louvel Tessier
75010 Paris
01 71 39 58 02

Fortune’s Kippers in Whitby, England

September 9, 2015 by Ann

If you’re a Yank like me, kippers are only something you’ve read about in P.G. Wodehouse novels. But when I traveled to Whitby, England — a seaside town on the east coast of North Yorkshire — to research this article on Bram Stoker and Dracula, I was delighted to visit one of the last independent kipper smokehouses in England.

“Kippers are herring that have been split, brined and cold smoked,” says Derek Brown (pictured above, left) who, together with his brother, Barry (above, right), continues Fortune’s Kippers, a family business begun in 1872. The oily fish were once bountiful in the North Sea, and smoking was a way of preserving them without refrigeration.

During Whitby’s 19th-century fishing heyday, small smokehouses dotted the town, and ran along the coast. But when Yorkshire herring fishing died out in the late 1970s, the smokehouses followed. Fortune’s is one the last independent smokehouses in England, and these days they use fish from the Northeast Atlantic, frozen at sea. “It’s easier because the supply is constant,” says Derek. “During our busy season” — around the Christmas holidays — “we just ring up and request an extra delivery.”

The fish are defrosted overnight, split, gutted, cleaned, and then placed in a salt water brine for forty minutes. “It’s just salt and water. No seasonings,” says Derek. The fish are then hung in the 90-year-old smokehouse (photo above—it’s the black structure to the right of the cottage) for 18-24 hours.

Inside the smokehouse (photo above), three different fires cure the fish. “The first dries them out,” says Derek. “The second is a heavy fire. We use oak shavings and it burns through the night. If needed, a third fire finishes them off for the color.”

Industrially produced kippers are often dyed orange. “If they’re made in the traditional way, the longer you smoke a kipper, the darker it gets,” says Derek. But it’s a fine line between achieving a golden color and overcooking. “You maintain the oil of the fish by not smoking it too much.”

Kippers are traditionally a breakfast food (they’re especially popular on Christmas morning), eaten simply with bread or butter. “They can be eaten cold,” says Derek. “But they’re better heated up. Fried or grilled,”(that’s Brit-speak for broiled) “or jump them in boiling water.” The latter method is known as a jugged kipper and the doyenne of British food, Delia Smith, describes it thusly: “All you do is remove the heads, then fold the sides of the fish together and pack vertically in a tall warmed jug. Now pour in enough boiling water to cover the kippers, put a lid or plate on top of the jug, and leave them in a warm place for 6 minutes. Then drain and dry them with kitchen paper, and serve on hot plates with a knob of butter to melt over each fish.”

Along with whole and fileted kippers, Fortune’s also offers kipper pâté—”kipper filets and double cream, prepared by my niece” says Derek—which is smokey and delicious on rye bread. They sell only from the shop and don’t ship, but if you are lucky enough to visit Whitby (which is worth a visit), they’re open seven days a week. Word to the wise—get there early. When they sell out of kippers, they close up for the day.

Fortune’s Kippers
22 Henrietta Street
Whitby, England

Bouillon Chartier (Paris)

March 7, 2015 by Ann

I hesitate to start out by saying that the food at Bouillon Chartier isn’t that bad. But the truth is, no one comes here for the food. Three of us lunched at this cavernous restaurant a couple of weeks ago, and we chose the place for two bald reasons: 1) We wanted to meet near les Grands Boulevards; and 2) It’s open on a Monday. Oh, and 3) It’s historic. And 4) It’s cheap (bonus!).

The word “bouillon” in the name of Bouillon Chartier refers to a fascinating bit of Paris restaurant history. In 1860, a butcher named Monsieur Duval had the brilliant idea of opening a restaurant that served cheap bowls of beef broth to the workers at Les Halles (Paris’s former central food market). Eventually the word bouillon, or broth, became synonymous with a type of inexpensive restaurant.

(Little did Monsieur Duval know that 155 years later, East Village hipsters would rename bouillon “bone broth,” and sell it for $7 a cup.)

At the end of the 19th century, the Chartier brothers expanded upon Monsieur Duval’s concept and founded their own chain of bouillons. Though only two still exist—Bouillon Chartier and Bouillon Racine in the 6e—these establishments continue the mission of offering a “decent meal at a reasonable price” with “good service.”

From the great big door on the busy Rue du Faubourg Montmartre, you walk through a courtyard to the restaurant at the back. The line can stretch all the way to the street, but when we arrived on a rainy Monday at 12:30pm, we were seated right away.

The dining room is full of Art Nouveau charm, a vast space with high ceilings, soaring mirrors, brass rails, and carved balustrades. Along the walls are wooden armoires with small, numbered drawers where regulars once stored their couverts, or silverware and napkins. I tried to peek inside, but they’re now sealed shut. Tables are shared, which means if you’re eating alone, you can expect three strangers to be seated next to you.

The menu still features bouillon, now renamed consomme, a daily brewed vegetable broth offered for 1€, which is officially the cheapest thing I’ve ever ordered in a restaurant in France. It was thin and watery, but I could taste a faint, earthy hint of vegetables in there somewhere, as if the liquid held a distant memory of carrots and leeks. The table’s other entrées of oeuf mayonnaise and carrottes rapées looked better, dressed with industrial-esque vinaigrette and mayonnaise, yes, but simple and tasty (though accompanied by perhaps the world’s saddest tomato garnish).

The list of main courses reads like a dictionary of classic bistro cuisine, including choices like roast chicken and fries, grilled andouillette, or tête de veau with tangy sauce gribiche. At a place like this, it seemed wise to keep things simple with confit de canard, pommes grenailles and I am happy to report that the confit was one of the better versions I’ve had, the fat completely rendered (whether by design or neglect, no matter) and the skin pleasingly crisp. Accompanying new potatoes were properly roasted, though without crunchy edges. My friend, Erin, described the steak as “definitely not the worst I’ve ever eaten.” Also, it arrived perfectly cooked, à point.

Old-fashioned desserts included fresh pineapple, wine-soaked prunes with ice cream, and other classics, but I splurged (calorically, at least) on the chou glace vanille chocolat chaud, a spongy profiterole puff filled with vanilla ice cream, flooded with warm chocolate sauce, and garnished with a handful of toasted almonds. Though my watery first course had left me hungry, I couldn’t finish the generous portion.

Efficient service meant that three courses AND coffee were served in less than an hour. (Noisy, casual, and fast, this is a great place to eat out with kids.) Before we even knew we wanted to leave, our waiter had bustled up and calculated the bill on the paper tablecloth—the first time I’ve ever received the check in France without asking for it. Three courses for three people plus two coffees (no wine) came to €50.70 or €17/person, when rounded up.

Ah, Bouillon Chartier, still cheap after 119 years.

Bouillon Chartier
7 rue du Faubourg Montmartre
75009 Paris
01 47 70 86 29
No reservations
Open Mondays

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Cheap eats around the Eiffel Tower

October 21, 2014 by Ann

I always feel like I’m the last person to find out things. So when I read an article about the Eiffel Tower’s two-year, thirty million Euro renovation—unveiled this month—I wasn’t surprised that I knew nothing about it, even though la Dame Fer is around the corner from my apartment. The renovation added solar panels (they heat the structure’s water) as well as a glass observation floor that allows visitors to gaze straight down—57 stories. Yowzers!

In honor of the tower’s new “looking,” I thought I’d share a few of my favorite cheap eats in the area. As I’ve mentioned before, the neighborhood has its share of tourist traps serving bad food. But there are also hidden gems. If you’re visiting the Eiffel Tower and on a budget, here are three great options for lunch:

The Cheapest:

I realize I am revealing my lowbrow palate by saying this, but when they’re fresh and hot, I really love a sandwich grecque. The sandwiches at Apollon—a Greek restaurant/traiteur—start with your choice of sauce (I always get harissa) dabbed on warmed pita. The guy behind the counter then stuffs the bread to bursting with seasoned chicken shaved off the spit, lettuce, tomato, and French fries. The result is greasy, salty, spicy and completely delicious. There’s also a vegetarian version, which replaces the meat with cheesy spinach-feta croquettes, equally salty, greasy, and delicious. (If you’re in the mood for lighter fare, the counter offers terrific Greek salad, hummus, and other dips.) A full menu (and table service) is available in the restaurant, but for the truly cheap experience, order your sandwich to take away.

Price: €5.50 (per sandwich)

The Cheap

Bread and cheese are France’s greatest cheap eats. Happily, one of my favorite fromageries is located a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower. Tucked away on a side street off the rue Cler, Marie-Anne Cantin is a small shop where everything is delicious. On a recent visit, I picked up a wedge of St-Nectaire fermier and a slice of vieux Comté. A handful of cherry tomatoes from one of the fruit sellers on rue Cler, and a bit of bread rounded out my picnic lunch, enjoyed on a sunny afternoon at the Champ de Mars. Note: this is a budget meal for two or more.

Price: €15 (two cheeses, baguette, and a handful of cherry tomatoes)

The Relatively Cheap

I know, I know—you probably didn’t come to Paris to eat Italian food. But for a hot, (relatively) cheap lunch, I love Sapori di Parma, an eccentric Italian restaurant/épicerie located a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower. The owner, an older Italian gentleman, communicates in a hybrid of Italian and French, flinging scraps of mortadella into the mouths of babies, and describing his favorite dishes with great gusto. He convinced me to try the pizzoccheri Valtellina: housemade buckwheat pasta tossed with potatoes, braised chard, and melted cheese into a rib-sticking winter dish. Though I splashed out on the more expensive lunch menu—€14.80 for a plate of charcuterie, the aforementioned pasta, wine, and coffee—for the truly budget conscious, there’s a simple, two-course prix fixe for €11.80 (entrée + plat + café, or plat + dessert + café). You can also buy Italian charcuterie and cheese to take away.

Price: €14.80 (entrée, plat, glass of wine, and coffee)

Apollon
24 rue Jean Nicot, 7e
tel: 01 45 55 68 47

Marie-Anne Cantin
12 rue du Champ de Mars, 7e
tel: 01 45 50 43 94

Sapori di Parma (no website)
58 Avenue de la Bourdonnais, 7e
tel: 01 45 56 19 38

Dining out with kids in Paris

June 24, 2014 by Ann

Paris restaurants don’t have a reputation for being very kid friendly, so before my most recent trip—my first with baby in tow—I wondered whether I’d be able to eat out with my nine-month-old daughter. Our first lunch at a neighborhood café was not encouraging. We were seated at a corner table with the baby parked in her stroller directly beneath the door of a refrigerator. Every few minutes, a waiter opened the fridge to grab one of the carafes of water cooling within. The glass bottle passed right over the baby’s tender head while the head waiter barked: “Fais TRES attention au bébé!” (Be VERY careful of the baby!) The waiter would shoot me a look that screamed “You are in the way!” and the fridge door would slam shut. When the baby began squawking, we bolted our food and beat a hasty retreat.

After this experience, it seemed likely that we wouldn’t eat out in Paris as a family for the next seventeen years. But after I canvassed a couple of Paris parent friends, we tried again, and again, several times—and found each meal easier than the last. I’ve combined their suggestions with my tips for dining out with a baby in Paris. I’d love to hear your recommendations, too—please leave them in the comments!

Choose wisely—I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Parisians are very child friendly. But not in restaurants. It’s important to pick the kind of place where kids are welcome (I offer a few addresses below). Casual spots like cafés, bistros, or non-French places like pizza or Chinese food are good choices. Only you know your kid’s limits, but personally I would avoid everything else with a baby. “I see the most kids in Asian restaurants, not traditional French restaurants,” says my friend Erin, mother of Felix, 4, and Lucie, 2. Another alternative: “Crêperies are definitely known as family friendly places.”

Eat early—French people are creatures of habit—they like to eat at the same times—that is, one o’clock for lunch; eight o’clock for dinner. If you show up at a restaurant early, you’ll catch the staff before the rush, and there will be few other customers to disturb with baby squawking. “The very best thing is to go immediately at 12pm or 7pm,” says Erin. “Make sure you’re the first people served so the kids aren’t waiting forever.”

But not too early—Paris restaurants keep rigid hours; most aren’t open before 12pm or 7pm. If you’d like to eat outside those hours, look for a place that offers “service continu”—continuous dining service—usually a café. Fair warning: the best food in Paris is not usually found in places with service continu.

Don’t expect kid accoutrements—High chair? Crayons? Kid’s menu? Fuhgeddaboudit. “I’ve never been to a restaurant that has a high chair available or that could easily accommodate our own portable high chair,” says Claire, mother of Theo, 21 months. Restaurants for families do exist, “but they’re chain restaurants,” says Erin. I brought most of the baby’s food from home, and gave her a chunk of baguette from the bread basket to keep her busy.

Case the joint in advance—Don’t just show up with the stroller, expecting to be seated. Scope out the restaurant in advance to see what kind of space they have. Pop in and ask if they’d mind accommodating kids and/or a stroller. “If they’re reluctant to welcome kids, it’s almost always a space issue,” says Erin. Paris real estate is expensive; most restaurants are tiny. “My father-in-law is in a wheelchair and when restaurants see us coming with him and the stroller, they’re like, ‘Forget it!'” says Claire.

Find an outdoor café— “I usually try for a restaurant with ample outdoor seating and sit at the end where I can pull up the stroller,” says Claire. Pedestrian streets like rue Montorgueil or rue Cler offer a large choice of cafés with wide terrasses—though they also attract heavy smokers. We had lunch in one café on rue Cler, which offered ideal seating—lots of room for the stroller, we were outside so didn’t have to worry about baby yelps—but the food left much to be desired.

Goûter is good—I’ve noticed children are more welcome at goûter, or tea time, the four o’clock hour when French people like to eat sweets. I’ve even spotted kids in chic salons de thé like Jacques Genin or Angelina. Otherwise, picnics are an obvious choice for families of young children—plus you have an excuse to buy lots of different types of cheese!

Bottom line—After several lunches with the baby (we never tried dinner since she goes to bed too early), and talking to several friends, my conclusion is that dining out in Paris with young children is not common. But it is acceptable, if you choose the right kind of place and right time, and if you’re considerate of the staff and other customers. In other words, maybe it’s not so different from anywhere else?

Where to eat with kids in Paris

Les Deux Abeilles
189 rue de l’Université, 7e
tel: 01 45 55 64 04
At first glance, this cozy tea salon does not seem kid-friendly—space is tight, voices are low, and there are crisp, white tablecloths. But they offer continuous service from 9am-7pm, which means you could eat super early without worrying about being a nuisance. I love their savory tarts, hearty salads, and gorgeous cakes.

Café Suédois à l’Institut Suédois
11 rue Payenne, 3e
tel: 01 44 78 80 20
This is a charming little lunch/tea counter at the Institut Suédois with housemade soups, bread, cakes, and even elderflower cordial. Best of all, there’s lots of seating in the spacious courtyard. There’s no table service here—just order at the counter and ferry the food yourself. They were kind when we rearranged the chairs to make room for the strollers (and we also spent several minutes replacing everything when we left).

West Country Girl
6 Passage Saint-Ambroise, 11e
tel: 01 47 00 72 54
Even though I said crêperies were family friendly, I would avoid one of my favorites, Breizh Café, because of the aforementioned space issues. West Country Girl is a good alternative, with excellent galettes in a less touristy (and populated) part of Paris. Admittedly, I have not been here with a stroller. But I have eaten an early, mid-week lunch here and the dining room was practically empty.

Pizza Chic
w 13 rue de Mézières, 6e
tel: 01 45 48 30 38
I love their pizza. But this restaurant is as chic as its name indicates. I have, however, seen older kids (aged seven and up) dining here—early. There are also a few sidewalk tables, which could be possible for an early meal with a stroller. However, wild horses couldn’t drag me to bring the baby to eat at this restaurant during regular service, either indoors or out.

Happy Families
5 rue du Cloître Saint-Merri, 4e
tel: 01 40 29 89 99
This center near Beaubourg offers everything from a kid-friendly café (with high chairs and simple meals), dance and music classes (for kids), meditation sessions (for parents :), as well as a beauty salon, massages—and babysitting. I haven’t been here yet, but it sounds great for a rainy day.

Do you have any tips to add or addresses to share? I’d be grateful for your advice!

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