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09/25/1999 Archived Entry: "Eating in Paris on the Cheap and Otherwise"

Is everyone going to Paris before the New Year? I’ve been getting an increasing number of requests for Paris restaurant recommendations. And, naturally, since everyone has heard how expensive it is to eat in Paris, they want to know where the bargains are.

Since I haven’t been to Paris in nearly a decade, I turned to my intern, NYU senior Alexis Brock, who spent her junior year in Paris. College students don’t have money so I figured she would definitely know some good cheap places. No such luck. Alexis had so little to spend in restaurants that she mostly ate at home, with the wonderful woman who housed her. Alexis wrote the charming piece that follows. I think you’ll enjoy reading it even though she does not offer any restaurant recommendations.

Then I called Daniel Young, the restaurant critic for the New York Daily News. Danny goes to Paris often – for a while there we thought we had lost him to the City of Light –and he is the author of The Paris Café Cookbook, which is essays about and recipes from Paris’ 50 most interesting/historic/popular cafés. You can get good food at some cafés, and it is usually much less expensive than at full-scale restaurants. I would suggest to anyone who is planning a trip to Paris to buy his book. It’s even light enough to take along. Below you’ll find Daniel’s recommendations for places that are not in his book.

Another source for Paris food information is the indefatigable Patricia Wells. Her The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris has become the bible on the subject – not just restaurants, but all and any food establishments: bakeries, cheese shops, etc. It’s now in a fourth, completely revised edition. I’ve heard complaints that the book is too comprehensive for the casual traveler, but I disagree. That’s like saying Miss America is too beautiful and smart. If you are interested in eating great food in Paris, Patricia’s work can only enhance your trip.

Finally, I put my own two cents in with a few recommendations that are perennial favorites.

What I Ate During My Junior Year in Paris
By Alexis Brock

It’s ironic that my semester in Paris was plagued by thoughts of bagels and coffee to go. I even recall an evening when I engaged in a conversation with a few other NYU students about the bliss of St. Marks Pizza at 2:00 a.m. Now that I have been back in New York for some time, I can admit that I was a fool. Granted, there are the advantages of convenience (I never did find a 24-hour deli in France to suit my whims for hot wasabi peas), although I realize that they do not compare to the quality of French food.

Contrast your typical New York hard roll, sitting for who knows how long in its glass case, to a French baguette baked fresh in the morning and late afternoon. Since my stay spanned 4 months, I really got the chance to explore the city and its culinary offerings. I cannot boast to having gone out to many expensive dinners (my parents only visited once), but I think I tapped into something much more exciting: lifestyle.

It began with a mistake on NYU’s part. I had requested to live with another NYU student in an apartment in the hub of the city. However, at my housing meeting the day after I arrived from New York, the director told me in broken English that I had been placed in an apartment with a “French girl.” Technically this was true, although I wouldn’t classify 60-something Madame Grossoird as a girl. It seemed catastrophic to me at the time that I would be sharing space with an older woman and her cat, but in retrospect I realize that there could have been no better opportunity. I was instantly welcomed into French culture in a way that my American friends sharing apartments were not. For me, this welcoming meant serious food.

We lived on the eastern edge of Paris in the 12th arrondissement, across from the Metro stop “Picpus.” The neighborhood was strictly residential, as it was a good 25 minutes by train to Nôtre Dame and 40 minutes to the Eiffel Tower. Instead of souvenir shops and bad restaurants with English menus, we had the essentials: three boulangeries, a fromagerie, a charcuterie, two marchés des fruits, a few cafés, and a park where men played boules on Sundays. It was Seventh Heaven. I learned the art of shopping only for the food that I would be preparing that day. Whatever was freshest and most intriguing to me at the market was what I would purchase. As warmer weather arrived I prepared myself for the fraises des bois, but no one had warned me about the asperges des bois or the fresh almonds, barely recognizable to me in their fuzzy green cases.

Then there were the fromageries, which I only allowed myself entry to once a week. The shelves behind the counter held hundreds of varieties of cheese, homemade yogurt, preserves, honey and butter. I remember my eyelid twitching slightly as I first saw the butter. Hand-molded blocks graced with lengths of slicing wire were labeled, “doux,” “demi-sel,” “sel de mer,” and “beurre des fleurs.” I eyed the last one with curiosity, mustering up enough confidence to risk my bad accent, but was saved any embarrassment by the woman behind the counter. She quickly told me that that the beurre des fleurs was the clear choice since it was made from the milk of cows that had been eating the most tender shoots of grass and spring flowers. How could I resist? “300 grams s’il vous plaît.”

In addition to the delights of the neighborhood, there was also the mystery of Madame Grossoird. I had never considered keeping butter and cheese in the pantry, or poaching my eggs in crème fraîche before I lived with a French woman. I remember first opening the refrigerator to see a large glass jar of goose fat, an endless supply of fromage blanc, and a terrine of livers. That was it. Where were the Tropicana, Dannon yogurt, leftover pasta and salsa that frequently appear in the United States? She kept her eggs in a bowl on the table, and fruit and vegetables in a basket on the counter. There was never any serious quantity of food in the house, but that was reasonable since she cooked while things were fresh. Amazed at what I was experiencing, I was overtaken by careless abandon and I ventured beyond my neighborhood.

I visited the major gastronomic sights: Fauchon on Place de La Madeleine, Laudurée up from Place de la République for pastry and macarons (pistachio being my favorite), Ile St. Louis for Berthillon’s ice cream and artisan chocolate. I also found that Passy, the neighborhood on the right bank that is home to NYU’s program, was a treasure trove for eating. La Flute Enchantée, a patisserie at 66 Rue de Passy, had the best pain de mie sandwiches. The choosing was always an ordeal for me—poulet-estragon, concombre, jambon-gruyère or crudités. The women were extremely patient as I eyed the sandwiches endlessly before requesting a crêpe nature – that’s plain in plain English. I also enjoyed Passy’s daily market. The produce vendors wrapped their haricot verts in bundles and the fishmonger displayed his black sea urchins in pyramids.

That semester was enlightening. Food feeds me in infinite ways, and I think I have finally discovered the way that I would like to approach it: respectfully. I can’t say that only French food appeals to me (it isn’t even my favorite), but what did appeal to me was the respect that was given to cuisine. My surprise at this respect can be attributed to my Americanness – I’m from New Jersey. There is a perspective that Americans have that Europeans do not share. It can be seen in our acceptance of the stale hard roll, and in our whims for hot wasabi peas.

Obviously, I am generalizing, but as many times as I wanted to lurch forward and kill the taxicab drivers, bartenders and other Europeans who gave me looks upon hearing me declare my origin, as far as food is concerned they have a point. We have some wonderful restaurants, produce and traditions, but universally speaking, we lack respect. I have found a greater appreciation for what is simple and time-tested than in what is trendy and fused, and I intend to pursue cooking in this way.



Daniel Young’s Paris on a Budget
Unless otherwise noted, all restaurants require reservations. While in Paris, 01 must be dialed before each telephone number.

La Coupole: 102 Blvd. du Montparnasse, Paris 14, Tel. 01.43.20.14.20: world-famous, grand café - check your guide book for info. -for fun and people watching. No reservations required.

Dame Tartine: 59 Rue de Lyon, Paris 12, Tel. 01.44.68.96.95: a cheap café near the Pompidou Center. No reservations required.

La Régalade: a very good bistro in Montparnasse. 49 Ave. Jean Moulin, Paris 14, Tel. 01.45.45.68.58.

Pétrissans: a wine bar with good bistro food - order the escargots or the eggs scrambled with black truffles. 30 Ave. Niel, near the Arc de Triomphe, Paris 17, Tel. 01.42.27.52.03.

Le Café Marly: a place to see and be seen. All Paris goes here - not necessarily for the food, which is California French. Near the Louvre at 93 Rue de Rivoli, Paris 1, Tel. 01.49.26.06.60.

La Baracane: a bistro in the Marais - the old Jewish quarter. 38 Rue des Tournelles, Paris 4, Tel. 01.42.71.43.33.

Also in the Marais, on the Rue de Rosiers, are the best falafel -- Daniel Young says in all of Europe, not that he has eaten falafel all over Europe -- at a stand called L’As de Falafel (The Ace of Falafel). On the same street try Sacha Finkelstein’s square strudel (apple or poppy seed).

For a moderate splurge reserve at a bistro called the Relais du Parc connected to Alain Ducasse’s restaurant right next door at 55 Ave. Raymond Poincaré, Paris 16, Tel. 01.47.27.12.27. The tel. no. for the Relais wasn’t available but ask for it when you call the restaurant.

For a great lunch splurge go to the three-star Arpège, 84 Rue de Varennes, Paris 7, Tel. 01.45.51.47.33.

For lunch near the Boulevard de l’Opéra and the Blvd. de la Bourse: Le Grand Colbert, a brasserie - low to moderately priced. 4 Rue Vivienne, Paris 2, Tel. 01.42.86.87.88 (reservations not essential).

Arthur’s Paris Suggestions
Benoit, 20 Rue Saint-Martin, Paris 4 (near the Beaubourg); Tel. O1.42.72.25.76, is my must-eat, expensive restaurant, either lunch or dinner -- old-fashioned, very high-class bistro. Since 1912, original-but-fresh looking turn-of-the-century decor. Very romantic, too, I think. The menu is a mix of old dishes and a few new. What we all grew up thinking French food -- and restaurants -- were about. (Yes, I’d rather come here on the rare times I am in Paris lately, than go to a three-star creative chef place. This tastes French, the later tastes International.)

L’Amis Louis 32 Rue Verbois, Paris 3; Tel. 01-48.87.77.48, is another great, old bistro, but much, much cruder. Sort of a Paris Peter Luger. Fab roast chicken, sautéed fresh foie gras, famous garlicky roast, sliced potatoes..

Brasserie Flo 7, Cour des Petites-Ecuries, Paris 10, Tel. 01.47.70.13.59, is about a hundred years old and a lot of fun. Go if you want to feel like Gigi, and eat choucroute, fish or shellfish (those big platters that are so popular in the States now), foie gras, and, actually, almost anything.