Our first night in Paris was a whirlwind. Roy was finding his way past a million cars to the 9th arrondissement where we dropped off our luggages at our hotel and ran to our dinner reservation at Bellanger. We arrived feeling flustered and was led into the brasserie which looked like an intimate bar of fashionable people drinking wine to the tunes of a Saint Laurent playlist. Our waiter was a tall, charming man who served us a delicious tray of saucisse, grilled flank steak and leeks with mustard vinaigrette. The entire time, waiters who looked like they had just finished shooting a Jacquemus ad were bringing food to the tables. When it was time for dessert, we ordered the Paris Brest. Our waiter flashed us the most charming smile and said approvingly, “Best dessert ever guys.”
Everything feels like a blur now but I can still remember this beautiful night in Paris.
PARISIAN CLASSICS
Paris is a place of old cuisine. Places like Bistrot Paul Bert have stood the test of time, so old that even the French get preferential tables and classics like sole meuniere and steak au poivre are still served. In the 10th arrondissement, the creperie La Droguerie makes the most traditional of French crepe – ham, cheese and egg.
We were looking for a very old French dish – frog legs à la persillade – when we found Roger La Grenouille in the 11th arrondissement. Frog legs are an old world classic. Something that is rarely seen these days, even in the South of France. We only came for the things that the French do best – roasted bone marrow, duck confit, tarte tartin and of course, frog legs. During our dinner, an American couple brought in a framed drawing as rainwater trailed their umbrellas. They were not here for dinner, just to return a drawing to the restaurant. There was a commotion and then a bottle of champagne was popped. They were here during the early days of the restaurant when everyone was wearing frog hats. They got the artwork then and wanted to return it now. “It was around 30 years ago. It was a wild time,” they told us as they sipped from their glasses. “Champagne for you too!” A man from the restaurant, whom we could only presume was an important person in the restaurant’s legacy, insisted. As we drank our champagne, we saw him drinking his with tears in his eyes. It was a touching moment for a restaurant to be remembered for such a long time.
THE FRENCH CHICKEN
The French chicken. An undeniable classic. We had ours at Brasserie Martin. Roy loves the thigh and I love the breast. I always argue that when done right, the breast will be moist. To each their own. I love chicken roasted the simple way. The French way. Only salt and pepper. Maybe a little lemon or herbs but nothing more. The rest is technique, something I only leave to the professionals. The timing, the temperature, the rotisserie. At the end of it, I can truly say that the no one does a roast chicken better than the French.
SHOPPING
We started our day with a lunch of escargots, duck confit, beef bourguignon and french toast at Le Petit Bouillon Pharamond. It was a long queue but the waiter gave us a table outside where thin well-dressed ladies with cigarettes preside. The day was supposed to be just about food. Parisian food. But Paris was also fashion. After a few shirts at Café Coton (Roy of course), we shopped for cookware at E. Dehillerin and chocolates at François Pralus. Then came the time for our pre-dinner snack – a coffee, croissant and kouign-amann at Bo & Mie.
PAIN D’ANTOINE
I never thought I could like something more than a pain au chocolat in Paris. It was a simple pastry at Farine & O that resembles a pain au chocolat. It was a pain d’antoine – orange zest in the flaky pastry and strips of hard chocolate on the outside. Chefs of Paris do not only replicate recipes of a hundred years ago. They change. They innovate. They are France’s capital. Chocolate and orange are a match made in heaven.
BRASSERIE BELLANGER
A few days later, we find ourselves back at Bellanger. Me having a cabbage roll and Roy, the croque madame (he only likes the madame, not monsieur). Bellanger, together with their other restaurants Martin, Dubillot, Charlie, Des Prés and Grouvie, call themselves La Nouvelle Garde. The new guard. The classics, but embellished. There is always something trendy on the menu. Marrow gratin on oysters. French blood sausage fried and dipped in applesauce. Caviar on potato dauphine. All served on polished porcelain or silverware. This is what Paris does best: fashion.
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