It happened..
In 1969 these bistros were the talk of Paris
Maxim's or La Tour d'Argent, Allard or Les Lyonnais, Le Bistrot de Paris or Les Petits Pavés don't (or don't any longer) need us to boast that they're Parisian. Others, such as Lucas Carton, le Grand Véfour, Denis, Lapérouse, le Vivarois, le Relais des Pyrénées, for various and complex reasons, are denied the felicities of the great vogue they are the first to deserve. Others, from Lasserre to Mère Michel, via Prunier, Ledoyen, Drouant, Jamin, Garin, Galant Verre, La Grille, Les Anges or La Marée, have acquired the kind of serenity that comes with approaching perfection. Often opulent, almost always complete, they are above fashion.
None of these will be the "new" restaurants of the fall season. The expression may sound sophisticated. Why "should" we go to certain restaurants just because we're back from vacation? Well, if you don't "have to", you do. Every year, around October, stars start to shine that owe nothing to Michelin. All the larks flock to them. For us, who don't judge restaurants by the shape or reputation of their customers, it's clear - or at least it's easy to guess - that a score of small restaurants will be making or re-making a name for themselves. Here, we'll just look at those who also know how to serve good food.
Le Duc, a prince of seafood
The great originality of Le Duc is the variety and craziness of its seafood platter. Instead of offering the classic assemblage of calibrated oysters, beautifully opened clams and oversized raw mussels, Mr. Minchelli has imagined transporting us to a harbor bistro, although the restaurant's elegant decor, all varnished wood, is more reminiscent of a large ocean-going captain's cabin.he serves a large bouquet of everything that has just arrived for him from the island of Ré (where his brother runs another "Duc", in La Flotte). Oysters, of course, flat and Portuguese, cockles, clams, mussels, clams, barnacles, razor clams, the improbable poussepied, which looks like a cluster of turtle legs, periwinkles, sea snails, edible crab, trilliums, shrimps, prawns, and more.trilliums, shrimps, langoustines, spider crabs, and even shellfish that are virtually unknown, such as slender lavagnons or pretty sea almonds. These seafoods are presented à la diable on goémon, with a rare diversity, generosity and freshness. We'll let you open most of them with a scaling knife (we'll give you a little help). But there are too many and they're pretty expensive.Instead, share this platter with two or three guests and save your appetite for the fried red mullet, grilled fish and exquisite clams with thyme. Drink white Bandol (and, as an aperitif, the famous Pineau des Charentes) and write a check for a good thirty francs per person.
243, boulevärd Raspail (XIVᵉ)
Serves until 10:30 p.m. Closed Sundays.
La Mazère, truffles until dawn
Even if it wasn't the successor to the excellent "Florence" on rue de Ponthieu, even if it didn't offer the same extraordinary specialties as "Chez Proust" on rue des Martyrs, truffles, foie gras, cassoulet, confits, even if it didn't fall in love with the local cuisine.even if it didn't come just at the right time, after the demise of "Berkeley", to soothe the aching feet of businessmen on the Champs-Elysées, Roger Lamazère's new restaurant could only be the big event of the fall season: a good, luxurious, elegant restaurant, it's open until 2 or even 3 in the morning. By 11 p.m., neighboring Lasserre, Ledoyen and Taillevent have closed their shutters, and poor millionaires are wandering aimlessly after exclusive films. Lamazère, who is from Toulouse, and therefore cut to the bone, and, what's more, accustomed - in Proust's words - as he was when he was an "itinerant magician", to living at night, is not afraid to offer a real "supper". He owes part of his success to this virtue, made all the more inevitable by the fact that, in addition to his astonishing south-western produce, he offers a choice of shellfish, game and a few refined dishes for diaphanous young ladies. His restaurant is huge, dominated by two pleasant mezzanines, beautifully lit, served with dignity, furnished and decorated in the impregnable classical tradition. It will surprise old regulars of the Italian "Florence", but will delight those of the great luxury establishments, among which it is automatically included. Nor will it surprise the wallets of those unfortunates accustomed to spending 70 to 80 F per person to honor their associates, or their charming wives or similar.
23, rue de Ponthieu (VIIIᵉ)
Closed on Sundays.open until 3 a.m.
Les Belles Gourmandes, a mafia hit
A charming young woman, Colette Fougeron, who for years greeted customers at "Chez les Anges" with a smile, has just taken over "Les Belles Gourmandes" with her husband, whose lucky star had, of late, sadly faded. As soon as we opened, we could be convinced: with these new-style "Belles Gourmandes", we have one of the best and safest small restaurants in Paris.admittedly, the comfortable but rather banal decor isn't exhilarating, and we're all a bit on top of each other, but what's important is the talent of the young Fougeron, and he's got a lot of it.He's experimented with it in a few very good houses like "L'Archestrate", wasted it at "La Pergola", a food factory, and now here he is. and now he's back with his own furniture, presenting a well-thought-out menu that, in our eyes, is both harmonious and intelligent. Fougeron, who is wise enough not to want to serve more than forty diners, has designed a Burgundian-inspired menu, neither too short nor too long, featuring good classics but also a few original dishes that are hard to resist. For example, a very fine veal terrine served with an exquisite cressonnette (sour cream with watercress), or petits gris in a fricassee with herbs, coq au vin served with tourtou (a buckwheat pancake from the Limousin region), or sole in red wine, stuffed with a mushroom duxelle. Usually - and except at Lasserre - we shun duck à l'orange, but here, with its tray of mashed peas, it's simply admirable. Nor should you overlook the very simple filet of beef with green pepper: the meat is melt-in-the-mouth, tasty and the slightly creamy sauce is discreet and truly remarkable. Finally, the warm apple tartelette is one of the best pastries you can eat in Paris today. The morgon from Augris is a natural and, in the end, the only fault of these "Belles Gourmandes", adopted by the businessmen and publishers of Boulevard Saint-Germain, is that the price of their favors quickly exceeds 45 F.
5, r. Paul-Louis-Courier (VIIᵉ).
Serves until 10:30 pm. Closed on Sundays.
À la Forge d'Eloy, la bonne cave des halles
A long room of scraped stone, bordered by an ancient grille, a tall marble crèmerie case, a thick table d'hôte covered with charcuterie and hors d'oeuvres whose frankness jumps out at you and your nose. Then the room closes in on a "forge", a grill where oak logs burn, in front of which chef Eloy (our cover) works, toque in hand. He's a young, pale Norman with astonished eyes, a master of his trade, a connoisseur of good produce, active - he has remarkable footwork - attentive and affable. He didn't want to be an antique dealer or a fashionable gargotier here - any more than in his small, clean, elegantly and simply arranged vaulted dining rooms in the basement, lit by extravagant glass rosettes. Once you've tasted the first dishes, you'll be convinced: the extraordinary rillette de canard, for example, or boudin (cold or hot) and andouillette bought from an old charcutier in Vouvray, stuffed pig's trotters, scrambled eggs with poultry livers, tourte des Cévennes, and then the dishes of the day, lovingly cooked on a corner of the grill, blanquette de veau au calvados, stuffed cabbage, rabbit casserole, or pear tart, sorbets, flambéed pineapple crêpes and profiteroles. Finally, alongside the brilliant crus, Eloy offers a very acceptable Beaujolais and an excellent Bordeaux "des Gentilhommes". A well-executed meal won't set you back more than 30 F, proving that there are still good days in Paris for good people.
62, rue Greneta (1ᵉ).
Serves until 11 p.m. Closed on Sundays.
Le Grand Venise, viva il maestro!
Behind its brasserie façade, "Le Grand Venise" doesn't have the grand allure or refinements you'd expect from a fashionable restaurant. Lots of light, pictures of children and clowns as restaurateurs often feel obliged to display, and a clientele whose faces you can't always put a name to. But, from the very first minute, we discover a character at "Grand Venise" unlike any we've encountered before. She's a lady with ever-charming eyes, full of natural friendliness, immediate kindness and smiling efficiency. And that smile doesn't disguise her nasty cooking. We unexpectedly had three meals at Le Grand Venise in quick succession. All three times, we were spellbound. The kindness and the flowers - on the table and on the sides of the dishes - of course, but also another primary virtue, the quality of the produce. The raw vegetables presented to you like a bouquet, the clumps of butter - from the Charentes region and semi-salted - the simple olives, the large onions roasted then macerated in oil, the seafood (in lasagne, or "fritti misti"), especially scallops and extraordinary langoustines under their quilt of fennel, tomato and onion, fragrant double fat, real ravioli, and also a few French dishes (calf's head, leg of lamb skewers), all of this is of such rare quality that it makes you admire Rungis. An old chef in the kitchen is doing his utmost to defend the Italian cuisine that too many dried-out pizzas, untraceable scampi and third-hand Bolognese have disgraced. If we add that the ice creams are exquisite, and the little cherries in syrup in their large earthenware pot the best in the world (followed by an astonishingly strong and digestive mandarin liqueur), we'll understand our delight. Such generous, successful cuisine doesn't come for free. With a very honest Beaujolais, served by the barrel in large glasses that are chilled every ten minutes, you'll be afraid to spend 35 to 50 francs. That's a lot of money for an Italian meal in a neighborhood so lacking in gastronomy (except at the neighboring "Bistro 121"). It's a lot and it's normal.
171, r. de la Convention (XVᵉ).
Serves until 10:30 p.m. Closed Sundays.
Chez Nick, a bistro for Pagnol
Nick, in incognito, has lived in Paris for a good thirty years, but in reality, he's never left the Canebière. The whole of the Vieux Port is here, in this tiny bistro, with its bar, yellowed postcards, uncertain colors, pearl curtain and delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Reigning over this small, enclosed universe, this thundering giant is ready to grab anyone who challenges him on the true recipe for ailloli. And let's talk about ailloli. Our learned friend, Francis Amunategui, considers it to be the best in Paris, and he's probably not wrong. As we all know, ailloli is not a dish, but a sauce made from crushed garlic with egg yolk, salt and oil. It leaves a lasting impression, not only on the breath, but also on the heart and the eyes, for few dishes are as reminiscent of the Provence of Pagnol and Daudet, when ailloli is added to cod, onion spiked with cloves, garlic and oil. cloves, fennel, cauliflower, potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, carrots and large snails simply boiled in salt water.pied paquets, bouillabaisse and Nick's fish soup also have the warm flavor of sunny cuisine (from 20 to 30 F.)
13, r. Taylor (Xᵉ)
Closed Sundays, serving until 10 p.m. Make a reservation.
Abel, an airy couscous
Once you've put a spoonful of Abel's couscous in your mouth (without saucing it, because that's the best way to judge its quality), there's no doubt about it. This masterpiece of lightness doesn't come from the corner store. Of course, the beauty of a couscous lies in the semolina, which requires daily preparation and uncommon dexterity. But we can't neglect the beautifully moist and well-cooked mutton that accompanies it, or the discreetly herb-flavored kebabs that make a mockery of almost all those served in Parisian restaurants. we can reassure those who are averse to bazaar decor: this restaurant is a neutral, classic auberge, and the North African folklore is very discreet.if Abel were to be criticized for anything, it would be the slimness of its menu, which has little to offer beyond a few delicious hors d'oeuvres (brains, briks, merguez or tchatchouka),merguez or tchatchouka, a kind of Tunisian piperade), admirable almond puff pastries and the famous couscous, to which should be added the mechoui, which he prepares to order only. (Menu: 24 F, around 35 to 40 F à la carte)
15, r. St-Vincent-de-Paul (Xᵉ).
Closed Sundays, until 9:30pm.
L'archestrate, in search of lost cuisine
The prize for originality this season in Paris undoubtedly goes to the young Alain Senderens, who opened an astonishing little restaurant behind the Fontaine de Mars a year ago. The unpronounceable name Archestrate comes from the unlikely first great chef of Pericles' Greece. It shows how much Senderens hates déjà vu and loves antiquity: the cuisine of this former saucier chef at Lucas Carton is, in fact, directed towards a misty past from which he brings back surprising recipes which, by some miracle, he almost always manages to turn into little masterpieces.let's not talk about avocado with crab, eggs en meurette or hind's hazelnuts, almost classic dishes, but rather marvel at the mutton ham, the admirable hare quenelles, imagined by the great Escoffier and served with exquisite vegetable purées, the real veal head in turtle form, served with an exquisite vegetable purée.te de veau en tortue, with green olives, gherkins and a fried egg, escargots en fricassee, omelette aux noix et aux escargots, the grandiose brouet d'anguilles (according to a recipe from the Ménagier de Paris", from the XIVᵉ century) with ginger, cinnamon and anchovies, coconut ice cream, pear cobbler.terribly shy and modest, this young chef isn't looking to blow smoke by rescuing old grimoires from oblivion. A keen researcher, he also understands that our palates are jaded and that it's important to get off the beaten track, while remaining within the strict confines of haute cuisine.he has a somewhat insistent weakness for spices, and it would be wrong to abuse them, but there you have it, in any case, a great deal of talent and intelligence. As success comes, the room is now too small and we have to agree to be a little on top of each other. We can only hope that Senderens expands, and also that he abandons this pompous name and puts his own on the front: if any restaurant deserves to bear the name of its owner, it's this one. (Approx. 35-45 F.)
20, rue de l'Exposition (VIIᵉ).
Serves until 9:30 p.m. Make a reservation. Closed Sundays.
Cartet, lunch at Grand'mere
The restaurant over which Mme Cartet and her nostalgic gaze reign is devoid of the slightest decoration and as big as a pocket handkerchief. No more than five tables can fit inside. This good person's greatest fear is to have to turn people away - who knows, even some old, short-sighted customers who forgot to make a reservation. It can happen, and if it does, she won't sleep a wink for two days. It's quite a change from those trendy gargotes where the door is slammed in your face. So behave yourself and don't drop in on Madame Cartet unannounced. Give her a call and let her prepare a nice lunch for you (the restaurant is closed in the evening). Mme Cartet is not a "giant" of the kitchen. With great constancy and honesty, she is content - and that's already a lot - to maintain the precious tradition of what used to be called "home cooking". Her menu is as capricious as the arrivals and courses at Les Halles. One day, she'll return from the market with a fine shoulder of mutton, artfully stuffed and then exhaling subtle perfumes. Another day, it'll be pretty red mullet, or a pike or a hare; but each time, the product will be of the best provenance and prepared with all the love of which an old-school cook is capable. In the cubbyhole that serves as her kitchen, Mme Cartet also prepares large tarts that don't look like much, but that bring back memories of grandmother's pies from the very first bite.
62, rue de Malte (XI°).
Closed on Sundays.
Quai d'Orsay, we'd kiss the boss
When we predict that Quai d'Orsay will become a trendy restaurant, we come across like the marshalsea. This summer, the little terrace was packed to the rafters, and all Parisian gourmets were making a note of it in their address books. The fact remains that we were the ones who discovered it, so it was a bit of an initiation. In addition to our duty, we have the right to talk about it here. Mr. and Mrs. Bigeard have created something quite remarkable on the site of an old chauffeur's bistro. The decor is charming, warm and comfortable, and the cuisine is perfectly sincere and honest.Mr. Bigeard isn't a chef himself, but he's from the Lot region and knows his way around produce. Just look at his choice of exquisite vegetables to accompany an equally admirable and melting rib dish. Admittedly, the menu is short, but it includes such exemplary dishes as pike with beurre blanc, sole with spinach, onglet and knuckle of pork with cabbage. Admittedly, the desserts are a little lacking in originality, but when Mme Bigeard happens to make a tart according to her grandmother's recipe, you just want to kiss her. The wine list could certainly be expanded, but the brouilly is excellent and should be enough to keep you happy (around 30 F).
49, quai d'Orsay.
Closed Sundays, served until 10 p.m. Make a reservation.
Le Recamier, to treat your editor
Opened just over a year ago, Le Récamier has become a gourmet meeting place for the literary world in just a few months. For the Sèvres-Babylone district's writers, publishers and journalists, who, as everyone knows, often have good taste, there's a good reason for this: Martin Cantegrit, ex-patron of the "Décaméron", had the good idea of hiring the former chef of the "Bourgogne".And so, in this very comfortable and charming room, decorated in Empire style, Messrs. the editors invited their beloved authors to dine on the exquisitely delicate oeufs en meurette and sweetbread puff pastry, the turbot with beurre blanc, worthy of that at the "Mère Michel", the côte de béchamel, and the "Mourvèdre". Mère Michel", the rib of beef with its rare taste of real meat, and the chocolate profiteroles that round off a perfectly balanced menu. Last but not least, the wine list will delight wine lovers and wine seekers alike. Burgundy wines include Monassier's Mercurey and the delectable Pernand-Île-de-Vergelesses; Bordeaux wines include the charming Château Haut Batailley and, as an aperitif, the lush Sauternes Doisy Daëne. You really want to take the cellar with you. Failing that, take a look at the beautiful(and rather erotic) drawings hanging on the walls: they're for sale. (The meal: 35 to 40 F.)
4, rue Récamier (VIT°).
Closed on Sundays, serving until 11pm.
Le Pactole, passion against the grain
it's finally here. After years of gloom in the depths of Pantin, after a difficult start in a neighborhood overrun by good restaurants, Chef Manière is finally a household name. He's almost a celebrity, and everyone feels they've discovered him, especially now that he's added a pretty terrace on the sidewalk, so that he can be seen from afar. M. Manière is a big, strapping fellow. Manière is a big fellow with salt-and-pepper hair, talkative, passionate and an unrepentant perfectionist: hasn't he invented an omelette with truffled foie gras, after having perfected a crêpe with smoked salmon and a poularde stuffed with lobster? He's not lacking in audacity either, since his great trick is to offer a simple, short but highly refined lunch menu for 25 F. just a stone's throw from the Tour d'Argent! This idea, which goes against the general trend (which tends to serve bad food for a lot of money), enables a whole category of people (few at a time, as Manière has only fifty covers) trapped in the alternative to have a good lunch at almost low prices: the small steak and French fries or the big bill. For example, you can eat as much as you like of sliced raw white mushrooms with paprika sauce and excellent terrines prepared by Manière, followed by a dish of the day (stuffed chicken, mi-roton, navarin aux primeurs, jambon en croûte, etc.).) or, for the young, figure-conscious patrons, a noisette d'agneau or faux filet, and finally dessert. All of exquisite quality and, with a few unfortunate exceptions, serene equality. (The service, unfortunately, is sometimes disconcerting.) In the evening, Manière becomes Midas again in his Pactole with the great dishes we mentioned above and many others such as an admirable foie gras, duck and steak with green pepper, lobster omelette, with great claret or beaujolais franc from Du-bœuf, or a delicious plain red from Champagne: Vertus.you'll pay around 50 F all-inclusive, including service, which is often provided by Mr. Manière himself, who puts his hand to all the pasta, from the morning at Les Halles to ten o'clock in the evening in the cupboard that serves as his kitchen.
44, boulev. Saint-Germain (V°).
Serves until 10:30 p.m. Make a reservation. Closed Sundays.
Lous Landes, the admirable Georgette
Georgette Descats is the Landes cook whom M. Massia brought to Paris, with her recipes, her accent, her laughter and her pots of confit, to open the "Restaurant du Marché" on rue de Dantzig, which is too well known and appreciated for us to consider it a "discovery". Success having given her wings, she moved with her son to this little restaurant near rue des Plantes. Ah, the admirable Georgette! Ah, the admirable Landaise cuisine! Garbure soup, graisserons de canard (duck fat), jambon des Landes (Landes ham) in thick, fluffy slices, poule au pot, potée, duck liver omelette, confits, poulet maman Jeanne, palombes, lou magret... Who can resist such music? We've been around this menu ten times, and really, it's all very good; as soon as one meal is over, we're thinking of the next. Aurice's cold blood pudding is the best in the world; all the charcuteries, impossible to find in Paris, are of incomparable finesse; the omelette, tender, light, stuffed with duck livers, is a real treat.the omelette, tender, light and stuffed with duck livers, is grandiose; the palombes, served pink with a drop of blood, have a delicious wild flavor; the lou magret, duck steak cooked rare in a casserole dish, reveals a flesh with an insoupable flavor.and what can we say about the large, flaky apple and prune galettes that the Landes train brings every day, after hours of farm women rolling the heavy dough on large tables to make something airy and inexpressible? The beauty of this cuisine is that there's nothing to hide: no pretentious sauces, no wildly complicated preparations. Only the good taste of the products themselves. Georgette's son, a talented composer, looks after the cellar. You can rely on him: his Saint-Estèphe and Sauternes wines are gold in the bottle. And if you insist, at the end of the meal he may agree to sit at the piano and accompany his mother as she sings the Landaise ditty in a convincing voice. Finally, if there are five or six of you, ask for the little dining room at the back. You'll be far, far away from Paris (35 to 45 F).
9, rue Georges-Saché (XIV°).Closed Tuesdays. Book in advance.
Le petit bedon, cheaper and just as good
After the sad demise of chef Bernard, everyone might have thought that "Petit Bedon" was lost. After a ten-day closure, it has reopened under the direction of a new chef. This new chef, Roger Marin, is no stranger to the kitchen: he worked with Bernard a dozen years ago, when the "Petit Bedon" first opened. He then moved on to Marcel Trompier, in the kitchens of the excellent "Marée", and we found him again at the "Coeur Volant", in Louveciennes.very wisely, he has kept his predecessor's menu more or less intact, and even more wisely, he has had the courage to lower prices. The price cuts are by no means symbolic, amounting to around 30%, and even 50% for some dishes. From now on, you can have a remarkable meal at the "Petit Bedon" for 50 to 60 F. Of course, it would be tempting to explain this price reduction by an equivalent drop in product quality. This is not the case at all. We were equally delighted to find the magnificent belons in their airy, subtle champagne sauce, the crayfish with dill, the foie gras in a fine, light jelly, the coquilles Saint-Jacques in the "Petit Bedon".scallops with Nantes butter, lamb noisette with tarragon, melt-in-your-mouth and fragrant, and last but not least, tarte à l'envers, whose crisp, golden pastry is a masterpiece of refined simplicity.The sommelier is always on hand, and you can rely on his flair; service is friendly and prompt. Finally, the only criticism that could still be levelled at "Le Petit Bedon" before the vacations concerned its decor. But Martin and his partner have made an effort, covering the walls with wooden slats, covering the ridiculous yellow seats, changing the poor "rustic" sconces. It's still not the Tour d'Argent, but it's not like dining in a black-market restaurant.
38, rue Pergolèse (XVI°).
Serves until 10:30 p.m. Closed on Sundays.
