Absinthe Cafe - Paris

AKA the "Grandma/Grandpa" Spot
Since leaving Paris many have asked what I miss most about it.  The list of what I don't miss is longer and easier to compile. I admit though, after three years I started to love the place a bit.  During a recent layover in Charles de Gaulle, on a slow crawl from Singapore to NY, I observed myself from afar. What would I do with my six hours in Paris?  I zipped by metro into the city on autopilot and walked into my "local", Absinthe Cafe.  It was like I never left - there were Grandma and Grandpa welcoming me to breakfast, all warmth and smiles.

Pain de Sucre - Paris

the Spaceship has Landed
Pain de Sucre is an old favorite - half of my "winter mashup" experiment.  Two store fronts away from their original, they've opened a shiny, sleek new shop.  They're selling the usual excellent pastries and marshmallows, but unlike the old shop you can sit outside and eat your treat immediately.

Claus - Paris

Cock-a-Doodle-DON'T
More often in Paris than any other city there are restaurants that leave me feeling cold.  It's as if the owners are cooking at home for friends and here I am, the uninvited guest, unexpectedly ringing the doorbell, brushing past them in the doorway, taking up space.  They smile, they're polite but they seem scared they'll never get rid of you.

Popelini - Paris

Then What Happened?
When I arrived back at work, fresh from Popelini, they were still arguing.  The limey was gesticulating so hard, he batted his shiny thin tie over his shoulder and left it there.  None noticed the long trays of cream puffs I'd placed in the middle of the table.  Each was annoyed I was blocking his view of the idiot on the other side of his argument.  I began to wonder about my colleagues - how can they be so passionate about work?  Hello, there are rows of tiny choux à la crème, people!

Bagatelle - Paris

Location, Location, Location
Rarely does the Paris-of-the-movies intersect with real life but on a recent afternoon, outside in sunshine filtered by leafy-green Bagatelle Park, they came together as one.  The evil me felt sorry for you.  You should've been there at Bagatelle, blowing off your afternoon meetings, sipping wine and taking small bites of prawn risotto with cuttlefish in veal stock.  I chewed slowly, glancing at the deep blue sky and felt happy knowing the weekend, though a day off, had already arrived.  The prawns had that perfect smoky barbecue aftertaste, drawing me further into summer, to the 4th of July.

Dans le Noir - Paris

No, Not What You're Thinking
I doubt it's a coincidence that Dans le Noir has a slew of lovely, dark ladies working the front door.  However, it's not about that at all.  It's not really about the food either.  It's something so strange that you have to try it.  That is, if you can handle it.

Photo Credit

Le Meating - Paris

French Steakhouse Fail
Back in grammar school, the unlucky ate the cafeteria food.  A few of us carried our lunch from home in a  brown bag.  Without imagination, I'd attack in order: first the carrot sticks or apples, then the sandwich and finally the dessert.  One day I noticed a kid who was eating his dessert first.  I asked him why.  He looked at me as if I'd asked to pee on his shoes.  "In case I get full, at least I've had my dessert!"  This kid was clearly brilliant - he probably grew up to be an astronaut.  At Meating, had I been able to start with dessert and go backwards, I would've been much happier.

Nomiya - Paris

Living the High Life
So rarely do the fancy places impress.  After overpaying I often feel disgust, feign indifference or burst out in laughter (Joel Robuchon.)  Then there is Nomiya.  It sets such a high bar and hurdles it so effortlessly that I don't consider it another "fancy" - I place it in separate orbit.  We compared notes and decided that this may be the best lunch we've ever had.

Le Verre Volé - Paris

Is Canal St Martin the Paris LES?
On the train to work each morning, I squeeze my Kindle with stubby fingers and read the NY Times like it's a lifeline to home.  Rarely does the Times strike a false note but today, as I read a story about Paris restaurants, I bristled at the comparison between Canal St Martin and New York's Lower East Side.  The LES?  Seriously?  News flash - ALL the interesting neighborhoods and food in NY are in the outer boroughs, mainly in Brooklyn and Queens.  It would be more apt to say that Le Verre Volé resides in Paris' equivalent of Williamsburg, Red Hook or maybe even Gowanus.

Le Cantine de Quentin - Paris

Grocery Store Dining
One of the growing Paris trends is eating inside the grocery store.  It's called "epicerie-a-manger" and the handful I've tried have been long on looks and short on quality food.  I'd say this about Le Cantine de Quentin, Au Duc de Montmorency as well as newcomer Jeanne A, where I recently suffered through a rubbery chicken. They all stock consumables on tidy shelves and create a grocery store illusion, though I've never been the least tempted to buy anything.  I do enjoy the look, it's comforting to me in some strange way.  Of those I've tried, Le Cantine de Quentin was the best experience food-wise.  The hits outshone the misses, like the remoulade, below.  A friend explained that it was made with celery but I later learned that he meant celeriac, which is a root vegetable from the celery family.  It was combined with peppers and tossed with mustard and was very nice.

DEPUR - Paris

Un Pause Gourmande

Depur stands for "drole endroit pour un recontre", which literally means "strange place for an encounter" but I prefer to translate it "funny running into you here."  Feels like they came up with "depur" and then found a sentence that fit it.  Nevertheless, I stopped in for a "pause gourmande" otherwise known as "snack."  Not any old American snack like a Snickers or a 1,000 calorie bucket of fries, no, something healthy.  A tomato with a cheese hat.

Frenchie - Paris

Frenchie, R.I.P
I have a Slingbox, which is a life-saver for a TV-addicted American living in Paris.  I can watch my NY television here in Paris and keep up with my favorite shows.  I was just watching a recent episode of Bourdain's "No Reservations", the one where he returns to Paris after a few years away.  Half-way through the show there was a shot of him walking up rue du Nil.  I recognized it right away and my heart sank.  I started screaming at my TV "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!  Don't tell 'em about Frenchie!!!"

Dominique Saibron - Paris

The Drive By Methodology
My girlfriend amazes me.  On a recent taxi ride from Orly airport, as we sped down the street,she tapped me excitedly and said "remember Alesia."  Yep, got it, Alesia, I said, barely looking up.  This, folks, is the "drive by methodology" whereby Dodo sees something as we drive past and makes a mental note.  It's a proven methodology, yielding such gems as Les Pates Vivantes and Jean Millet.  So, this morning when she said "remember that place we saw last week near the Alesia Metro?" I didn't even hesitate.  I jumped up, got on the net and found the name: Dominique Saibron.  Within an hour we were there and folks, it's a keeper.

Joël Robuchon - Monte Carlo

Saving the Best for Last...
.....the best laugh, that is.  Ok, rewind a few days and picture me packing a bag for our trip to Nice that included a Frenchie outfit: collared shirt, zip up sweater, sport jacket and dress shoes.  Dodo was confused: "You never pack any nice clothes."  Well, we might go to Monaco, I explained, it's a nine outta ten on the worldwide schwank scale.  "How do you know" she said, more a statement than a question.  Fast-forward two days: I carefully donned my special outfit and said "Ok, let's got to Monaco."  She slipped into some raggedy jeans and sneakers.  Feigning exaggerated high-steps, she said "these are my loose jeans, the ones I can take big giant steps in, see?"  I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldn't budge.

Chez Pipo - Nice

Trying Out Socca
I didn't know anything about Socca until I arrived in Nice.  It's a regional flatbread made from chickpeas and olive oil.  It's for sale all over the place but I got a recommendation to go to Pipo, which is supposed to have a good version.  We took a long, leisurely evening walk from our hotel on the Promenade des Anglais and arrived at the already packed Pipo at around 7pm.  We lucked into an outdoor table and scanned the menu.  It's pretty straightforward: you either get a single serving or a double serving.  They also serve tapenade, but we mistakenly passed on that.  We should have gotten some since it took quite a while to get our Socca.

Cafe Luluc - Brooklyn

Best Pancakes in Brooklyn?
No, I wouldn't go that far - but best pancakes on Smith Street, for sure.  The Puffin just arrived from a 20hr Singapore to NY flight and a pancake breakfast at Cafe Luluc was near the top of her list.  The conversation went like this: "Babe, I just flew half-way around the world, are you gonna make me pancakes?"  Me (eyes rolling): "Yeah, I have to go buy ingredients, if you don't mind waiting."  Her: "Never mind, we can go to Luluc."  She brought me a present - a new camera.  The kind that's not dummy-proof, so forgive me as I try to learn the right combination of aperture, focal length and ISO (and I'm not even sure those are the correct terms...)

Francois Payard Bakery ("FPB") - Manhattan

Missing Paris?  Nah, Couldn't Be....
I got the drop on this place from Dessertbuzz.  It's officially called FPB but that P stands for Payard, a big name in French pastry.  It made no sense - I'll be back in Paris in a week, but somehow there I was, ordering French pastries from his new shop on Houston.  Dodo's gonna mock and tease me for sure.  I can't explain it - I guess I was just curious to see how it stacks up against the Paris shops I frequent.  The apricot danish was bursting with flavor but could have been a bit lighter and flakier.  To be fair, I was there at 5pm, they're probably different in the morning, fresh from the oven.

Le Train Bleu - Paris

Why God Created the "Per Diem"
As I've explained before, I'm spoiled - my company covers my costs in Paris. I try not to overdo it but every once in a while I splurge a bit. I mean, it's my duty to help support the French economy, isn't it? Le Train Bleu is a fancy, Frenchy, high-priced restaurant perched in the rafters of Gare de Lyon. It's the type of place that long-ago travelers would sup in style before boarding a train to "summer" in Tuscany. They gracefully made room for the kid and his band of freeloaders, errr, I mean colleagues. Now all I gotta figure out is how to scheme and scam the accounting department to accept a dinner of a couple hundred euros....

Chez Janou - Paris

This Blog is Getting Frenchier and Frenchier
Three french posts in a row must be some kind of record. I'm hitting my two week Paris limit but still have a week to go before my escape to NY. It's about the time I begin to get ornery, muttering to myself about the slow service, the weather, the dog shit, the prices. Even so, Chez Janou shone through my mental pollution. It's a classic brasserie known for its 80+ varieties of pastis but we were there to stuff our faces, of course.

Le Sévigné - Paris

Current CM Crown-Holder!
I love croque madames. Who doesn't? A fried egg on top of a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. The previous croque madame crown holder was Cafe des Anges but their title was revoked. I'm glad to have found a worthy recipient. The version at Le Sévigné has all the right touches: runny yolk, melty cheese, hot ham and excellent, cooked-but-not-too-cooked bread.