Archive for the ‘Paris’ Category

Resto 39 Brooklyn Pizzeria, Bastille

November 8, 2018

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Let’s put it out there straight away – Pizzeria Brooklyn is the kind of tourist trap that I would normally avoid. But with an appointment with an Opera we needed food in Bastille quick. PB delivered on that, in fact in terms of food it overdelivered.

But everywhere else it didn’t. Let’s do the food first. We got veggie antipasti up front and it was very good – a generous helping of autumny veg. The pizzas (we got the MBappé specials in honour of the great man) were excellent and massive. I now know what a pizza pie is – it’s a puff pizza with deliciously moist dough which when you pierce it with a knife let’s out a column of steam to reveal its meaty tomato guts. But I’d been walking all day and I still couldn’t finish it – we should have got one to share. House white was bland but drinkable (and cheap, it’s France after all).

The room was set up for Instagram – a pizza oven with something sloganned on it. Bits and pieces of vaguely New Yorky stuff around and a soundtrack of things I wish I didn’t know the tune to from the 1980s. And the bogs! Who would not get rajjed having to take a leak with the legend, ‘Keep calm and eat pizza’ drilling into their eyeballs?

Well, people who like to take selfies in front of food, pictures of their food (the pizzas were square (so wonderfully Instagrammable), wonky pictures of pizza ovens and selfies with pizza ovens. They love that shit. No wonder the staff had all the chaleur of a late night petrol pump attendant.

Did I say the pizza was good?

5/10

#Food #Paris

To see where else I’ve eaten go to the GoogleMap

Resto 38 L’Aubergeade, 11th Paris

November 7, 2018

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A late arrival in Paris and we wanted to eat local. I had a hankering for Cambodian but there was none of that going on near us so we chose L’Aubergeade on the basis that it looked like a friendly. Good instincts.

It was empty when we arrived at 7 but it didn’t take us longo to realize that we were lucky to have got a table. The next time I looked round I was being handed a menu and the place was full.

The menu is nose to tail rustic French stuff. Up front James chose veal head and I chose mushrooms but what’s this? A sinister amount of egg on the mushroom meaning we had to swap plates. I have to say that eating tête de veau isn’t something I’ll do again in a hurry. The meaty bits were ok but the gluey bits were … gluey. No amount of piquant sauce could hide that fact. But if you’re an aficianado of that kind of thing I guess you’ll have booked a table already.

Main was a more conventional swordfish steak with cheese-creamed rice. That hit the spot on a cold damp autumn night. As did the Anjou red it rolled in with. But not the affogato dessert. This was a mug of whipped cream and not enough coffee.

Which was a shame as the cooking is obviously skilled and popular with the locals. I should have trusted my instincts and just rounded off with a coffee rather than indulging in the sweetness. I’d definitely go back but with a more rigorous eye for what works for my palate.

7/10

#Food #Paris

To see where else I’ve eaten go to the GoogleMap

Resto 20 Au Cadrans du PLM, Paris

July 10, 2018

Au Cadrans was not my first option when I found myself stuck at Gare de Lyon in a state of travel fretfulness.* But there was no room in Le Train Bleu (the woman said, it could be that she didn’t like the look of me) and so I had to find an alternative.

Au C is directly opposite G du L so ideal if you have an hour to kill between trains. Quelle pause! It was worth the Eurostar turmoil just for this 50 minute pit stop of Parisian pleasure. Professional waiter, cold beer, massive salad with big lumps of salty goat cheese. Sanity restored. The clientele a good mix of locals, French tourists and overseas visitors sitting together on a tranquil terrasse.

Recommended.

8/10

#Food #Paris

To see where else I’ve eaten go to the GoogleMap

* 2 1/2 hour delay on the Eurostar, rail strike in Paris, heat wave in full force, busiest travel weekend in France, France v Uruguay quarter final. Thank god I was travelling alone and not with children.

Resto 19 Sathees, Paris

June 26, 2018

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The Marché St Germain. It has an Apple store, a Marks and Spencer and an arcade. But it’s not Covent Garden. Oh no, there’s none of your stick riding Yodas here. Or tedious shouters with flamesticks shoved facewards, gurning for a jaded mob of tourist cretins. This is left-bank Paris and they’re too civilised for that crap.

There’s a range of foodie places in the market and there was no method in my choice of Sathees, it was just the one that was there. You can sit al fresco in the sun or the shade beside a not too busy road. Good thing.

Their menu is stripped down – tartinettes for the most part, a couple of soups and desserts, all wholesome stuff with organic ingredients and Poilâne bread (with flour rolled by mill). I picked a salmon and guacamole tartinette with a glass of Sauvignon on the side.

The bread was chewy crunchy and the combination of fish and guacamole not as incongruous as I’d feared. After a day’s march through the life of Delacroix in the Louvre, his ‘arse and St Sulpice it was just what I needed. But if you require more than a snack this is not the place for you. This is pecking food. High quality pecking food.

Service was friendly and in French (good thing) with the clientèle a genial mixture of well-heeled tourists and locals. Recommended.

8/10

#Food #Paris

To see where else I’ve eaten go to the GoogleMap

The Crouch End Festival and Alfred de Musset

June 10, 2018

As anyone who read the post on Marivaux and last year’s Crouch End Festival piece, Corbyn Island, will know in adapting pieces I like to do some half-arsed research in the milieu of how the originals came about. And in contrast to Corbyn Island the update of A Door (Should be Open or Shut) is nevertheless a period piece rather than being located in contemporary Britain. Mid-century London wasn’t too much of a stretch for the update and fortunately the background and context for Musset’s play, Il Faut Qu’une Porte Soit Ouverte ou Fermée, was less unfamiliar to me if only because I’ve been something of a Delacroix obsessive for some time.*

Where’s the connection with Delacroix? Well, of course they’re both French Romantics though working in different disciplines, but the connection is much more personal than being inspired by the same mid-nineteenth century ideas. Delacroix was a great friend of the musician Frédéric Chopin and his lover, the writer Georges Sand. And Musset was previously a lover of Sand.

It was good to hear that Paul Kildea’s new book on Chopin’s Piano is in part concerned with recovering Sand’s reputation (in popular writing that is, it’s been a task undertaken with relish by feminist academics for decades) from its traducement by followers of Chopin (and Musset, especially his brother Paul) who have trashed her literary reputation largely out of unthinking misogyny.**

So as well as reading de Musset’s work I’ve been reading Delacroix’s diaries (an ongoing project over the past few years***, Sand’s memoirs and Paul de Musset’s (very) partial biography of his brother.

Props for 'A Door (Should be Open or Shut)

Props for A Door (Should be Open or Shut)

What did I take from this reading into the new production? Our production is set in 1940s Soho and when I realised that the production of Absolute Hell  would be using pretty much the same setting, and running at the same time as us, I was rather fearful that people would think that I’d been inspired by that. But in fact I was inspired by de Musset’s own life.

De Musset himself was a drinker. A serious drinker. As in he died of it. But this aspect of his life doesn’t bleed into the literary works that he created so I decided that to make the connection with his life I’d update the play from an aristocratic salon to somewhere more modern. Since we had a pub bar as a set it seemed natural that the setting I’d update it to would be one of London’s drinking clubs of the 1930s/40s.

Although there are references to Soho stalwarts such as Francis Bacon the model I was actually thinking of wasn’t the Colony Club. Rather I had in mind Foppa’s, which appears in A Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell. So we’re more in 40s Fitzrovia than 50s Soho. To someone who never knew either in their prime Fitzrovia offers a rather more literary locus which looks back to the 19th Century (and de Musset) rather than forward to the late twentieth and Jeffrey Bernard. Although the female lead is an artist.

A fun part of the production has been assembling props – a 40s Woodbine astray, an old-fashioned bottle of scotch, a cigarette case and a whiff of 40s in the costume of the characters. And the cast – Anna Rogers, Matt Griffin and Ruari Johnson – have been extraordinarily successful at bringing Musset’s characters to life in a faux-Fitzrovian setting.

If you’ve read this far why not book a ticket now to see the show? You can visit the Crouch End Players website or email cepfestival@crouchendplayers.co.uk 

Thanks to Paul Travis for the photo of the props, and for other shots of the preview night.

#Theatre #London #crouchendfestival

* I’ve written about him before and I’m looking forward to visiting the blockbuster show of his work at the Louvre later this month.

**You can listen to an excellent podcast with Kildea here.

***i.e. the French unedited edition lies next to my bed. And has done for some time! The Phaidon edition in English is what I’d recommend if you want to read pretty much the best writer on art of the nineteenth century as well as one of its key practitioners.

Resto 7 Bistrot de la Porte Dorée, Paris

March 1, 2018

After a morning in the rather wonderful Museum of Immigration in Porte Dorée (worth visiting for both building and contents) we were famished. I’d scouted out Le Swann as the place to go in PD but that was shut so Bistrot de la Porte Dorée was our fall back option. And what an option.

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To walk through the door was to enter a world that you’d find it very hard to find in the hipster fleshpots of the Marais or République. I suspected it would turn out to be an excellent lunch when the maitre d’ turned round sporting a burgundy shirt matched with a diagonally striped grey silk tie of which Doug Mountjoy in his pomp (c. 1978) would have been proud.

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Doug Mountjoy. Welsh legend.

We were shown to a table beneath a kitsch version of a Dutch still life of fruits de mer and various other foods. Dotted around the room were portraits of legends of French chanson and film (Jonny Hallyday’s look was particularly fierce, he seemed to be giving me the gimlet the whole meal through) and the odd transatlantic icon, such as Bob Marley smoking a joint, thrown in for good measure.

A set menu was on offer, €32 for two courses and €41 for three, wine included. Bargain, especially as an apéritif of something pink and fizzy was part of the deal. The food was classic French stuff, making no concession to the past 40 years of culinary fashion and none the worse for that. With the apéro we munched on toast and pâté de maison and considered.

I went for a starter of beef cheek, always a favourite. A generous amount of cheek paired with a lentil salad and carrots. All good, apart from the carrots which were overly salted for my taste. A full-bodied 2009 Gaillac helped that down admirably and proved to be a more than adequate match for a main of rabbit and pasta. Did we want dessert? Yes, but we also wanted to be able to walk the half an hour to the Château de Vincennes so we just had a coffee instead.

So the food was good but the real joy of the room was the people watching. Our waiter, not a young man, had a plaited rat-tail beard of the kind found on superannuated trustafarians yet to reintegrate back into civvy street. Across the way a party of eight or so retirees consumed their lunches while arguing vociferously about politics. And to our left a lone lady of a certain age with improbably jet black hair demolished a bottle of rosé in single combat.

A bill of €70 was a bargain and the reason why I’ll never go back to the Bistrot de la Porte Dorée is that some memories are too good to disturb with fresh layers of experience. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go, you should.

9/10

#food #Paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016-18 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 6 La Petite Porte, Paris

February 28, 2018

Arrival in Paris was delayed by snow so we had to be satisfied with a planche and beers adjacent to the theatre. La Petite Porte was right next door so we plumped for that.

Good call. The bar we had been in while cheap (€3.50 a pint in happy hour) was colder than Vladimir Putin’s eyes. La PP on the other hand was warm in both welcome and ambience. We slipped into a table at the back and didn’t even look at the menu. We wanted planche (it was after all the only thing on offer) and we wanted white wine.

We took a bottle from the Languedoc that was noticeably good. The planche was a superior product with 5 cheeses (stinky, blue, goaty, creamy and crunchy in case you were wondering) and plenty of meat. Bread was hacked before our very eyes and was yum double yum if you’d not eaten for several hours. My one quibble is that the planche was undervegged, I like a bit of greenery whether it’s cornichons or rabbit food.

The room filled rapidly and by the time we left it was a squeeze to get out the door. Young went elbow to elbow with the more mature and everything was very convivial. La Petite is highly recommended.

8/10

#food #paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016-18 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 2 Le Jockey, Paris

January 12, 2018

Having gorged our eyes on Malick Sidibe’s photos of Malian 70s hepcats in the Fondation Cartier (to a cracking soundtrack) we didn’t want to stray too far to get some grub. Le Jockey was among a cluster of cafés at the end of the road and we were drawn in by its bright interior, the décor having a beach-house vibe about it that made a nice contrast to the drizzly grey day outside.

It was the very end of lunchtime so there weren’t many diners in the room and we took a nice booth table next to a gaggle of grannies. The menu is straight up French fare – not complicated but very welcome when you’ve been marching around all day. We both went for the special of onglet, which came with a good slew of chips but no veg, which was a bit of a disappointment. And as I chewed my way through the meat I was reminded of why I haven’t taken an onglet for some time. But at least by jaws got a work out. The sauce was excellent though and I would have liked to have had a bowlful of it.

Dessert (as it was epiphany) was a galette du roi. Crisp flaky pastry and plenty of almonds in the frangipane made for a good way to round off the meal with coffee (Richard seems to have a monopoly in Paris but at least his product is good) on the side. Service from a floppy haired beau mec was excellent and I’d go back to Le J but although I’d splash out on the entrecôte next time, the meal as a whole was excellent value.

8/10

#food #Paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016-18 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 62 La Terrasse des Archives, Paris

November 8, 2017

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The final meal of a quick short stay in Paris is usually a relaxed lunch before getting the train. This wasn’t exactly what we got in La Terrasse des Archives. It sits beside a Nairn noticed fountain in a prime location in the Marais and so looked exactly what we were looking for. We squeezed into a corner table as the lunchtime crowd of loafers and locals started to swell.

The menu, not too long, is standard bistrot food with a few specials marked up on the board. My starter of pea gazpacho (I was still slightly stodged out from Strada) was refreshing and hit the spot. We splashed out on a Chablis, which was kept nicely chilled in an ice bucket.

Then the Labrador arrived. Not sure if he belonged to the restaurant but he certainly acted like he owned it. He was active yet not intrusive, occasionally popping out to the terrasse to see what was going on out there and other times just roaming around in an amiably woofish way.

My main of seared tuna confirmed that I was on a supermodel lunch as it arrived with a lot of courgettes but no spuds. So I nicked some of James’s (very good) chips, of which he had plenty. The chablis was slipping down pretty well but the waiter seemed to be in a hurry for us to get on with things. My plate was whipped away before James had finished his main and we were pressed for a decision on coffee or dessert.

Our attention was distracted by the appearance of a large ginger cat beside our table who stared enigmatically through the door. It seemed that La Terrasse had a fairly well-established menagerie. All power to their elbow I say but I reckon this would disturb some people.

Two coffees arrived in an instant and our wine was removed before we could protest that there was at least a glass left in the bottle. In a less benevolent mood I would have kicked up a stink but as it was I laid the money on the table and we left. The coffee was good, as was the food and the beasts, but I wouldn’t go back.

5/10

#food #Paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap

Resto 60 Sans Souci, Paris

November 7, 2017


Pre-gig I was a hungry chap having marched to MOMA@FLV and back. Pigalle is a new area of Paris to me so we chose a place at random.

Could we eat? Yes, but the guy said we’d have to wait till the chef arrived at 19h so we supped a beer while waiting. Good beer and not too pricy. The room was filling up and the atmosphere was perfect save for one detail.

They were playing the very dregs of phil Collins on the jukebox. Yes, they started with Another day in Paradise and followed that with yet more turgid crap, including the crime against humanity that is Phil’s take on the Motown classic You Can’t Hurry Love. Fortunately, by the time our food had arrived the tunes had skipped on to the Bee Gees. Never had I thought that I would use the phrase Thank God they’ve put the Bee Gees on. Marginal gain. Nausea mitigated.

I had a cheeseburger. It was excellent, reminding me of how a MacDo should taste when you’ve played 2 hours of football, been out all night and just want filthy food for lunch. Superb chips (ok, frites) with that and a charming feller serving us with a whole Californian surfer look going on. 

You have to do some Voltaire-ish (oh, Voltaire, will you reopen?!) shenanigans to get in and out of the table but that’s more of a pleasure than a chore when you’re on holiday.

If it wasn’t for Phil this would have been an 8.

7/10

#food #paris

To see which other restaurants I’ve visited in 2016/7 check out my GoogleMap


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