In January, Jill, her daughter, my son, and I spent four days in Paris after visiting Belgium. The food is a major draw, and this trip yielded some gems. But first, I need to pour one out for Le Village. In my last Paris restaurant update, I mentioned that it was one of the last true Montmartre bars, and I was disappointed to see that it closed its doors a few months before we arrived. It was an unpretentious spot full of locals, and it will be missed.
This time around, we visited only a couple of restaurants/bars I’ve been to before: No Entry (the speakeasy in the basement of Pink Mamma) and Babalou. Discovering No Entry is part of its charm, and knowing that we had to ignore the “No Entry” sign on the walk in freezer to enter the bar took away a little bit of the joy in the experience. Still, they offer delightful cocktails and the servers know their stuff.
I’ve eaten at Babalou, a cozy place around the corner from Sacre Coeur, since 2010 and the kitchen still turns out a satisfying pizza. We had a wonderful lunch there that could have only been better if the snotty California mom at the next table, who rebuffed Jill’s directions to the WC (“Don’t listen to an American,” she said to her daughter. “Ask someone who lives here.”), had chosen to eat somewhere else.
These are new to my list of recommendations:
Un Zèbre à Montmartre is newish and sits on Rue Lepic. It’s easy to miss (for me, anyway) as I walked past it twice before finding the door. The food is simple, inexpensive, and glorious. Jill says her duck with honey and grape sauce is the best thing she ate in Paris. I’m a fan of their steak tartare, which made me forget about the need to travel to the 14th and eat it at Le Severo. Have a cocktail while you wait for food, then pick one of their excellent wines by the glass.
Le Mansart in Pigalle is the place if you want to immerse yourself in a noisy crowd and share lots of tasty small plates and consume a few drinks. I have no complaints. The steak tartare, falafel, and peppers with pimento were three of my favorites.
Boullion in Pigalle has cracked the code for serving classic French dishes to a million people a night (okay, maybe fewer than a million) at McDonald’s prices (well, not quite). We went our first night in Paris and it was a great way to decompress from travel. French comfort food has a lot going for it, and the duck that Eli and I ate reminded me of why I love French cuisine so much.
Double is twelve-seat restaurant on Rue Lamarck that serves onigiri through a tiny window during lunch, then offers a prix fixe eight course meal for dinner, with optional wine pairings. It’s a hot ticket in Paris, so reservations are needed. We booked the first seating, and sat at the counter facing the tiny kitchen where the chef and an assistant produced eight perfect courses and made it look effortless. The menu is French/Asian/Italian, and our meal included courses like a maki roll with radish and soybean, crab ravioli with black garlic, red pepper risotto with shrimp, pigeon breast with yellow beetroot, and a combination of chocolate and lemon creams with tajine. The entire experience was delightful.
Clove is my new favorite Montmartre coffee shop. Superb coffee, no wifi, and lots of dogs. Perfect.
The smell of butter from Pain Pain hits you a block away. The croissants, pain au chocolat, and pain au raisin are delightful. I can’t tell you about anything else there because we ordered the same pastries every visit and were never disappointed.
Patoche is a microbrewery in Montmartre where I enjoyed a flight of beers (pale ale, IPA, DIPA, blonde) before dinner one night. It has a nice vibe (families playing board games the night I was there), and the beers are as good as any local, Paris brews I’ve had before.
Le Butcher is an halal restaurant in the 9th arrondissement, and if you’re in that part of town and craving a burger, you cannot go wrong there. I can’t tell you what I ordered, but it all looked good and they make excellent pommes frites. I had my first encounter with a French milkshake. Think milk and additives (in my case, Nutella), no ice cream.