Outside-Inside at O Divin

Inside-Outside at O Divin

Summer calm at O Divin

On the terrasse at O Divin

Stuffed piquillo peppers at O Divin

Salmon, avocado & tomato at O Divin

Pâté with caper berries at O Divin

Oysters with Bordier butter at O Divin

Warm Camembert from Bordier at O Divin

Natural wines at O Divin

More natural wines at O Divin

Exterior O Divin

I treasure this little spot near the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, and come often for the selection of natural wines and simple food. It’s neither expensive nor ambitious nor crowded, and the welcome from Nafouel is always sweet.

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When Guillaume Delage struck out on his own after paying dues in some serious three-star kitchens, his restaurant Jadis was hailed as a marvel. Dorie Greenspan called it “really good… and really surprising.” Almost everything there, she said, was “beautiful, delicious and not at all what it seemed.” Alexander Lobrano named it “one of the best new bistros to have opened in a very long time” and said “I can’t wait to go back.”  John Talbott called Jadis it a revelation and predicted that Delage would heed “the call of the big hotels in 2 years.”

Two years later, Delage has gone a different route. Instead of a big hotel, he’s just opened a second place called Aux Verres de Contact. I met two friends there on Monday night (they’re open both on Monday and throughout August) under the dual impressions that it would be both a wine bar and really good. I didn’t find it to be either.

Wine bars and wine bistros are a wonderful trend in Paris because they afford diners the flexibility to taste and share a larger number of smaller plates. They also tend to be cheaper than a three-course meal at a good bistro. Many are casual satellites of in-demand restaurants (Frenchie, Le Chateaubriand, Le Comptoir), providing an alternative for diners who can’t book a table at the mothership.

Aux Verres de Contact seems to want to be a wine bar, but it has little in common with the aforementioned attributes. It’s a satellite of Jadis, but Jadis itself is no longer difficult to reserve. The look is more casual (if metal garden chairs are to be equated with whimsy), but the prices are not. Aux Verres de Contact might even be more expensive than Jadis. A grilled steak with pepper sauce and waffle fries is €23 at Jadis. The same dish at the “wine bar” is €25, but any accompaniment (twelve soggy fries for €4) must be ordered seperately. The same is true for other copy-paste menu items. It’s neither generous, nor interesting. For a point of comparison, the same onglet at Au Passage, served with baby cucumbers that the chef has marinated in fish eggs to create a riff on kimchi and steak, costs only €9.

Their selection of snacks and starters mimics the menu of small plates at other wine bars (Frenchie Bar à Vins, Aux Deux Amis), but they’re less successful and double the price. Take, for example, the entrée crème glacée de haricots coco, encornets à la plancha et palette Ibérique: the puréed coco beans were satisfying, if not particularly cold, but the squid added little more than a chewy texture. This dish, whose components I struggle to remember only three days later, costs €16. By contrast, a dish of tandoori octupus that I think about every single day, even though I ate it three weeks ago, costs only €10 at Le Dauphin.

In a nutshell: Aux Verres de Contact might be fine for certain occasions (if you’re strolling near Notre Dame and want some better-than-average wine and charcuterie), but on the whole it doesn’t add much to the gastronomic landscape. As my table mate observed, it’s too expensive to be a neighborhood joint, and too boring to be a cross-town destination.

Aux Verres de Contact
52 boulevard Saint-Germain, 75005
Tel: 01 46 34 58 02
Snacks from €6-15, starters from €10-18, mains from €18-29
Closed Sunday

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Years ago, if you wanted to drink interesting wine and nibble some inexpensive food, your options were limited to wine bars serving platters of charcuterie and cheese. A handful of Paris places offered more in the way of padding, but the options were always simple – more hearty than arty.

The opening of L’Avant Comptoir in October 2009 kicked off a wave trickle of wine bars serving truly interesting food. Aux Deux Amis, Spring Buvette (RIP) and Le Dauphin followed within a year, and Frenchie has more recently opened a wine bar across the street. These places have a few things in common: small plates, impeccable ingredients, and small production/natural wines. They’re also refugee establishments, providing shelter for clients who couldn’t score a seat at the restaurant, or for former employees who have jumped the mothership. Aux Deux Amis falls into the latter category, as does my new crush Au Passage.

I knew that Audrey, former front-of-house mistress at Spring, was  somehow involved with this new wine bar in the 11th (she’s the girlfriend of one of the owners), but it was a pleasant surprise to also see James Henry behind the stove. James used to do the cold apps and desserts at Spring, and the evening menu at Au Passage is very much in this wheelhouse. Aside from a couple of fatty comforts (burrata, rillettes), most of the small plates could have easily been starters at Spring – they featured pristine produce (Joël Thiébault and Terroirs d’Avenir) and were bright with both color and acid. Flavor pairings were unexpected and, for the most part, successful. I loved the anchovy bass line in a dish of “courgette, ricotta” and the coriander flower in an escabèche with clams and chinchard (reminiscent of mackerel). I was less convinced by the sprinkling of pomegranate on a plate of “saucisse, carrotte”, but I can forgive the out-of-season and overplayed garnish when the dish was otherwise totally delicious. Desserts followed the same Spring format of crustless cream + fruit/chocolate + crunchy bits, but they make more sense in a laidback wine bar than a Michelin aspiring restaurant. Another nice touch: bread from Thierry Breton (Chez Michel) in the same style as (but better than?) Poujauran.

As for the wine, we tasted three and were enamored with two. The red Sancerre from Pinoz Dauny was a great way to begin, and we were delighted by the Verre de Poêtes recommended by Jean-Charles Buffet. I didn’t love the Boisson Rouge dessert wine, but 2/3 isn’t bad when one is prowling for new and interesting wines. We washed the sugar from our mouths with a smoky white whiskey and still managed to escape for only €40 per person.

In a nutshell: Au Passage is what happens when a business minded wine nuts open a large and relatively inexpensive space and spend their money on ingredients and talent. Prices are low, there enough tables and turnover to make booking a real possibility, and the menu changes every day. All this will probably add up to a habit. The rentrée will bring loving reviews and longer waits for reservations, so go and get it while you can.

Au Passage (closed August 7-22 for summer vacation & renovation)
1 bis passage Saint Sébastien, 75011 Paris
Tel: 01 43 55 07 52
Open Mon-Sat for lunch (1 dish for 9.50€, 2 for 13€, 3 for 16.50€) and dinner (small plates, most around 8€)
Facebook page

Last night, I took a peek at the new wine bar Le Dauphin. It was opening night and cheerfully mobbed, so we didn’t stay to eat. I did, however, snap a few dishes and the tapas list so that I could share what’s on the menu.

This list looks very promising. The cured meats are expected (spanish hams & chorizo, dried duck breast, sausage from the Tarn), but dishes like oeufs brouilles truffe noire (scrambled eggs with black truffle) and tapioca à l’huître, boudin noir (oyster tapioca with blood sausage) are much more elaborate than one usually encounters at a bar. I can’t speak yet to how any of this tastes, but conceptually (petit luxe plates at affordable prices), I’m on board.

As for the wine list, it leans heavily toward the Loire and includes many of the same producers that I’ve enjoyed at Le Chateaubriand next door (and at Le Verre Volé, Le Café de la Nouvelle Marie, Aux Deux Amis, Le Vin au Vert…)

I was happy to see Lassaigne listed among the bubbles next to a Cerdon that is sure to bring a smile to the lips of my Bugey-bred boyfriend. Further down, the list reads like a “Greatest Hits” of the natural wine movement, with selections from Mosse, Villemade, Binner, Puzelat, and Foillard.

What makes me very happy about this list, besides the number of good Loire whites, is the clearly marked and affordable prices. There are three reds and three whites priced under 35€ by the bottle and 5€ by the glass. With the amount of publicity this place will generate and the presumed cost of bringing in all that marble, they could have elected to gouge a little more. The fact that they didn’t is commendable.

And what about the design, this interior by one of the world’s most famous architects? It’s still unfinished, and thus difficult to judge. I can say this: there’s a whole lotta marble. Slabs the size of which would have made Michaelangelo squeal. Marble on the bar, the floor, the wall, and even the ceiling. Mirrors, too, and some stunning wooden stools. The effect is very cold, and I mean that literally. My tongue, if I had placed it on the frozen marble wall, would have stuck.

I’m excited to go back and take a better look when it’s finished, and to begin eating and drinking my way through these lists. Bruno tells me that Le Dauphin will remain in preview mode for at least the next few weeks, but will start turning out more elaborate food when the rest of their furniture arrives. Paris by Mouth will keep tabs on the young whale’s development with practical details and the latest reviews (see the PbM page on Le Dauphin here). And if any of you go, I’m very curious to know what you think!

When chef Daniel Rose began to renovate a former skate shop on the rue Bailleul, he discovered a wealth of subterranean possibilities. His construction team unearthed not one but two sixteenth century cellars, complete with crumbling stone arches and stairs. This gift of historically classified atmosphere came with plenty of red strings attached. The renovation of Rose’s restaurant was delayed by more than a year.

That restaurant opened on July 14 (see reviews via Paris by Mouth) but work below ground continued throughout the summer. Finally (and very quietly), Spring Wine Bar opened in the basement last Friday night.

The vision for this wine bar has changed a lot over time. Never one to be short on ideas, Rose has promised everything from a late night Champagne bar with a separate entrance from the restaurant to a spot for gourmet hot dogs and Japanese whiskey. He settled on something that’s more familiar – a wine bar with food – but still very much needed in Paris today.

Those who can’t book a table at the restaurant upstairs or don’t want to shell out for the full €85 shebang can dip downstairs to share some wine, small plates, and a cozy informal experience. My friend and I sat on high stools at one of several long, communal tables. We ate and drank far more than necessary and left paying €60 per head.

That’s at least double what I usually spend at a wine bar, but I suppose that we ate and drank doubly well. To wit: a plate of “Pont Neuf aubergine” – slim logs of fried eggplant with a hint of tangy tonnato inside (€5), a plate of pommes dauphines – luscious puffs of whipped potato (€4), a plate of “pig bits Iberique” – Spanish chorizo and lomo with homemade pickles (€14), an elegant pair of squash blossoms stuffed with shrimp (€12), and a fig-spattered cheese board (we chose Langres, Cantal fermier, Cosne, and Roquefort) for €14. Bread came from a crusty Julien loaf (the same that is served in the restaurant upstairs). Among the 8 glasses of wine that we somehow managed to put away, six were priced at €6 and two were €12.

I can think of a dozen joints where I could drink for less, but Spring Wine Bar brings a few things that these other spots can’t match. For one, there is seating, something that I rarely find at Le Garde Robe or L’Avant Comptoir. For another, the food is unexpected, a nice change from basic cheese and charcuterie. The two servers, Fabien and Sofian, are both knowledgeable and kind. There’s also the historical charm of the cellar, the crumbling stones still visible beneath the new glass stairs.

Price-wise, this isn’t the sort of wine bar that provides a cheap alternative to dinner. Barring the development of some personal restraint (say, 2 glasses instead of 4?), I can’t afford to make this place a habit. Still, I’m glad that Spring Wine Bar is here and I’m sure I’ll be back to discover new bottles with some wine friends very soon.

Update May 2011: Spring is now seating guests for the full tasting menu downstairs and I’m told that it’s no longer possible, or at least dependable, to be able to walk in and nibble small plates.

Spring Wine Bar
6 rue Bailleul, 75001 (downstairs)
Closed Sunday & Monday

I recognized Nat(halie) the moment I walked into la Bodeguita, a newish wine bar on the rue Quincampoix. I spent many nights in the palm of her hand back when she worked at Le Garde Robe. “I remember you, too” she said, narrowing her eyes into a French girl’s version of “here comes trouble.”

I always drank too much at Le Garde Robe when Nat was working behind the bar. I’d go in for one drink and she’d pour me something crazy – something natural, unexpected and fun. She asked what I thought, made suggestions based on my response, and allowed me to taste before pouring a glass. Under Nat’s command, I was always ready to conquer the ever-expanding territory of “just one more.”

Her presence at La Bodeguita was only the first of many signs. Also promising: the sight of Edyta, the Ryst-Dupeyron seller who stole my Armagnac virginity, and the wafting smell of room temperature charcuterie (see here for Sébastien Demorand’s dirty thoughts on the matter).

We paired our planche (Spanish hams, French cheese) with chilly white wines because of the heat. We tasted so many different things that Barbra finished the evening wearing flowers in her hair. All were interesting, but I especially loved the opener – a Vain de Rû from Dominique Andiran – and my lullaby glass of Drappier.

The wines themselves are interesting, but it’s the time that Nat spends in describing her finds that will bring me back to La Bodeguita. This sort of friendly welcome is missing in some other wine bars that specialize in vins naturels. The location is central and the interior (like everything else there) is devoid of pretension. I do wish they served a little more food and had a smaller markup on their bottles consumed sur place.

Price: The big platter of charcuterie and cheese runs €20, and most wines by the glass are between €4-6.

Atmosphere: The floors are concrete, the crates are visible and the bartender is dancing with the dog (video here).

Location: 58 rue Quincampoix (near the Centre Pompidou), 75004

My first visit happened four years ago with Phyllis Flick, a longtime Paris resident who I “met” on the eGullet discussion forum. We shared a bottle of Morgon (was it the Foillard?) and some sausage & mash. To my delight, she became a friend. I’ve returned many times since because I like the wine, the friendly dog, the laid-back atmosphere, and the price: €20 for two courses at night. I also love that I can walk in without a reservation.

To be clear: the food is very simple. It’s like eating in the home of a friend who knows how to entertain a crowd. Cheaper ingredients are stretched and adorned and the preparations are simple: sausage & mash, pork belly & mash, etc. & mash. Last week I broke from tradition and sampled their Thai-style steak. I was expecting a train wreck, but this was one of the best Thai dishes I’ve eaten in Paris. It’s true that’s not saying much, but the plate was still a delightful surprise. On that visit, I so enjoyed the glasses of wine that we ordered – a sparkling Vin de Table (Cuvée Jeux de Bulles) from Domaine Mouressipe and a Bourgogne Chitry from Vini Viti Vinci, €4 each – that I took home the bottles.

One nagging downside: I could stand a little more warmth from the team behind L’Autour d’un Verre. The waiter is friendly enough, but I haven’t once managed to squeeze a smile out of Kevin, the American who owns this place with his Finnish wife Mari. The natural wines on offer (including many small production Vins de Table) deserve an ambassador who is willing to explain them.

In sum, L’Autour d’un Verre is a great place to go when you haven’t booked ahead, when you haven’t a lot of money, and when wine and friends are the evening’s main attraction.

L’Autour d’un Verre
21, rue de Trévise (rue Richer)
Tel: 01-48-24-43-74

I think I may have found my happy place. In this place, men who are handsome enough to have worked at le Chateaubriand bring me glass after glass of natural wine. I soak these up with small plates of food that look simple, are made with foodie approved ingredients (Thibault veggies), and taste a little like love.

Burrata with green asparagus

The most delicious (oily, oniony) Tortilla outside of Madrid. Made by mom.

My happy place isn’t decorated like a 1970s dive bar. It just is a 1970s dive bar. I am surrounded by carefully scruffed kids in Converse, and the stereo is playing songs we haven’t heard since high school. The final bill includes small prices for food that’s noted as “solides divers”.

It won’t always be this good. The owner will come back, proper meals will return, and the stereo will be turned down. But at least for one night, in the company of an old friend, I felt (to quote L.L.) a little knocked out.

Aux Deux Amis
45, r. Oberkampf, 75011
Tel: 01 58 30 38 13

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Colorful tables are crammed into a space that’s likely smaller than your living room. The walls are lined with shelves and shelves of wine. You’ll sit so close to your neighbor (a young sommelier, a local actor, a tango instructor) that conversation will be unavoidable.

There are two kinds of evenings at Le Verre Volé. The first is composed of dinner, wine and intimate conversation. The dishes are selected from a chalkboard menu that changes with the seasons. Using nothing more than a couple of toaster ovens, the “cooks” here turn out starters like brandade de morue (salt cod and potato purée) with purple artichokes, or a salad of ripe heirloom tomatoes from Annie Bertin…

…The second kind of evening chez Stolen Glass ends with chairs on pushed-back tables and some manner of debauchery. I have seen tango dancing at Le Verre Volé. I have seen a visiting American break-dancing on the floor (see photo above). I have stood at the counter, long after the exterior gate has been pulled down, and finished off bottles of Who Can Remember with a Metallica-loving sommelier. This wine bar is a magic spring of random Paris adventure…

> Read the full review at The Girls’ Guide to Paris

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