My first impression: this restaurant is beautiful. With its gleaming zinc bar, tiled floors, and checkered tablecloths, Aux Lyonnais is decorated like the French bistro of my dreams. If I were a tourist, as 80% of the clients appeared to be, I would enter and say “finally… this is the place.”

That first flush faded fast. Three minutes after being seated, a waitress arrived to take our order. We asked for more time and a second woman returned two minutes later. We sent her away but had only a minute of peace before the original waitress reappeared in order to “help us” by explaining a few of the dishes. “It’s not that I don’t understand the dishes,” I told her in French, “it’s that I haven’t had time to read the menu.”

Our entrées arrived within minutes of ordering. The waitress brought our glasses of white wine, ordered to accompany those starters, just as we were finishing the last bites. They sat untouched on our table as we moved on to red wine for the second course.

Grumbling about service is risky business. It can make the writer look clueless (she doesn’t understand the local customs) and/or peevish (she complains at every restaurant). I’m taking that risk because the service wasn’t simply bad, it was… American. Being rushed through a meal by a server who wants to turn the table is not an experience I expect to have in Paris. Then again, Aux Lyonnais isn’t a particularly Parisian place. It’s part of a global empire that includes restaurants in more than 15 countries, not to mention culinary schools, cookbooks, and cookware.

There was a moment, while I was tasting my quenelle de brochet and smiling at a couple kissing in the corner, when Aux Lyonnais felt terribly French. But then the waitress returned to ask about dessert while I still had a mouthful of fish.

Wikipedia says that “the emphasis in a bouchon is not on haute cuisine, but rather, a convivial atmosphere and a personal relationship with the owner.” If that’s true, then Aux Lyonnais, with its apathetic service and absentee owner, is a spectacularly failed bouchon. The food was delicious, but I felt like a sucker.

> Read more about Aux Lyonnais at Paris by Mouth

> See photos from this meal on Flickr

Cinéma en Plein Air runs from July 17-August 22 and is one of my favorite things about summer. Serious crowds arrive every Tuesday to Sunday night to watch a film on the giant blow-up screen. Screenings start late (at sundown, around 10:30pm), but many arrive early to share a bottle of rosé and to picnic on the lawn.

During these weeks, I find myself making huge batches of hummus and pasta salad so that there’s always something ready in the fridge. For those who don’t live and cook across the street, there’s a small Monop’ near the entrance to the park where you can buy cold bottles, a few prepared dishes, and bags of chips. The truly lazy can rely on a smattering of fast food options nearby – McDo, a few kebab trucks, and an outpost of Paul inside the park.

Admission is free, and a chair/blanket combo can be rented for €7 (or 5 for €20). If you plan to go often, it makes sense to get a Carte Villette (€16 for one person or €26 for two), which gives you two chairs/blankets for each screening, plus reduced price tickets for other shows at La Villette. Many, many people bring their own blankets and manage to spend nothing. One word of advice: dress warmly if you’re not planning to rent a blanket. However hot it may be during the day, the temperature drops in Paris at night. This chill works to the advantage of young lovers, many of whom share a single blanket and completely ignore the film.

One final bit of advice: these films start late and sometimes end after the last subway. The last Métro heads south from Porte de Pantin (line 5) around 1:45am on Friday & Saturday, and around 12:45am on all other nights. If your film ends at 12:30 on a weeknight, be ready to sprint out of the park and catch your train. Those who plan to take a taxi or Velib’ will also need to hurry in order to beat the other people who have the same bright idea.

Here’s what’s showing as part of the 2010 “Avoir 20 Ans” program:

• Fri July 23: Conte d’été – Eric Rohmer – 1996 – 1h53 – France
• Sat July 24: La Balade Sauvage – Terrence Malick – 1974 – 1h35 – USA
• Sun July 25: Le Lauréat (The Graduate) – Mike Nichols – 1967 – 1h42 – USA
• Tue July 27: Tan de repente – Diego Lerman – 2002 – 1h34 – France/Argentina
• Wed July 28: Les Amants de la nuit – Nicholas Ray -1947 -1h35 – USA
• Thu July 29: Cry Baby – John Waters – 1989 – 1h30- USA
• Fri July 30: L’Auberge espagnole – Cédric Klapisch -2001 -2h00 – France
• Sat July 31: Orange mécanique (Clockwork Orange) – Stanley Kubrick -1971 -2h16 – UK
• Sun Aug 1:  Mauvais sang - Leos Carax -1986 – 2h05 – France
• Tue Aug 3: La Cité de Dieu -Fernando Meirelles et Katia Lund -2001 – 2h15 – Brazil
• Wed Aug 4: Les Vitelloni -Federico Fellini -1953 -1h43 – France/Italy
• Thu Aug 5: Juno - Jason Reitman -2007 -1h31 -USA/Canada/Hungary
• Fri Aug 6: C.R.A.Z.Y - Jean-Marc Vallée – 2005 – 2h07 – Canada
• Sat Aug 7: Persepolis – Marjane Satrapi – 2007 – 1h35 – France
• Sun Aug 8: Les Valseuses – Bertrand Blier -1974 -1h57 – France
• Tue Aug 10: Simple Men -Hal Hartley -1992 -1h44 – UK/Italy/USA
• Wed Aug 11: The Unbearable Lightness of Being – Philip Kaufman – 1988 – 2h51 – USA
• Thu Aug 12: Kids return – Takeshi Kitano – 1996 – 1h47 – Japan
• Fri Aug 13: Mystery Train - Jim Jarmusch -1989 -1h50 – USA
• Sat Aug 14: Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona – Woody Allen – 2008 – 1h37 – USA
• Sun Aug 15: La Fille à la valise - Valerio Zurlini – 1961 – 1h40 – Italy
• Tue Aug 17: L’âge des possibles - Pascale Ferran -1995 – 1h45 – France
• Wed Aug 18: Plaisirs inconnus – Jia Zhang Ke – 2002 – 1h53 – China
• Thu Aug 19: Les Amours d’une blonde – Milos Forman – 1965 – 1h25 – Czechoslovakia
• Fri Aug 20: L’Enfant – Luc et Jean-Pierre Dardennes – 2004 – 1h35 – France/Belgium
• Sat Aug 21: My Own Private Idaho – Gus Van Sant – 1991 – 1h45 – USA
• Sun Aug 22: Grease – Randal Kleiser – 1978 – 1h50 – USA

(All films are presented in their original language)

I ate at Spring on Friday night, along with two other writers who have already published accounts of the very same meal. I’ll spare you the repetition and simply direct you to these reviews by Barbra Austin and Adrian Moore. You might also like to read the review by Mr. Lung from the following night, which Daniel Rose told me was the “most sensitive review” that he had seen in a long time.

For my part, I wrote a story that was published by BlackBook today, detailing the hype that surrounds this opening. I’ve excerpted a bit below and you can head over there to read the whole thing.

With Expectations High, Spring Restaurant Reopens in Paris

…“I’m terrified of being seen like Itinéraires,” says Rose, referring to the disdain that greeted Sylvain Sendra’s new venture after he sold Le Temps au Temps. Some of the things that diners loved about Sendra’s cramped little bistro didn’t seem to work at the new restaurant.

Rose faces a similar challenge, moving from an undecorated shoebox in a far-out neighborhood to a flashier space in central Paris. Like Sendra, he added staff and raised prices in order to pay for them. These aren’t the only changes, however. Nearly all of the hooks that comprised Rose’s story have changed within the last three years. The underdog who cooked alone and undercharged for every plate has grown into the Hot Chef who manages a team and sometimes speaks in terms of “branding.”

Such changes have done nothing to slow the rush for reservations at the new Spring. The sense of urgency surrounding this second coming is reflected in the jittery title of a discussion thread on Chowhound: “Report on New Spring? Someone? Please?”

Rose wishes it weren’t this way. “A restaurant is just part of the decoration of life,” he said. “It isn’t life itself. I want Spring to be a normal restaurant.”

Whatever the chef may wish, Spring was far from normal on the first Friday of opening week. With the exception of one small family and two neighbors from the building, the restaurant was filled with industry folk. Rival bloggers sat shoulder to shoulder in one corner while Masson and Rubin nuzzled at the bar. Everyone watched the open kitchen as if it were a stage….

> Continue reading at BlackBook

> See photos of the new Spring Restaurant

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

That affection was compounded when I later moved to Paris and began abusing a borrowed copy (thanks, Jennifer) of The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris. I relied on Wells’ website for dining recommendations and flipped furtively under restaurant tables through her French/English food glossary.

More recently, when I learned that Patricia Wells had started blogging, I went out on a (very long) limb and invited her to be part of Paris by Mouth. I didn’t actually expect her to respond to me, a girl who was devoted to SpaghettiOs during the same period that Wells was serving as the first (and only) American food critic to a major French publication.

But she said yes.

Patricia Wells is now the 12th (and final) Contributing Editor to Paris by Mouth. I think I’m going to celebrate tonight by making something delicious from Trattoria and by drinking something strong (I’m still in shock).

You can read more about Wells on her PbM profile and her own website.

The Paris by Mouth launch party at Spring Boutique

All photos by Nicolas Calcott

The calm before the storm:

Me and Assistant Editor Barbra Austin

Five hours later:

The crowd at Spring Boutique spilling onto the sidewalk

A few favorites:

Drew Carré, Contributing Editor Wendy Lyn and Daniel Rose

Contributing Editor Clotilde Dusoulier, Laura Adrian and Ellise Pierce

Contributing Editor Phyllis Flick

Contributing Editor Christophe Wakim (and girlfriend Oanèse) in the spotlight

Sidewalk ceviche with Elisabeth Fourmont, David Lebovitz and Daniel Rose

For more photos, visit Paris by Mouth.

Thanks to everyone who came!

And a major merci to Daniel Rose, Josh Adler, Marie-Aude Mery and the entire Spring team for making this party so delicious.

Thanks also to our Contributing Editors for sharing their time and ideas, including those who were traveling and unable to attend the launch party: Alexander Lobrano, John Talbott and Sophie Brissaud.

See you soon at Paris by Mouth?

The new Spring, on the rue Bailleul around the corner from the Louvre, will open in June July. With additional dining room seating, a basement wine bar and a private table inside the cave, there will be greater opportunities to get a bite of Spring. But will it still feel special?

Before the restaurant opens, and before the mad rush begins for first bookings and reports, I’d like to share with you my first impression of Rose’s cooking three years ago. At the end, you’ll find a video testimonial from one of Rose’s earliest diners at Spring. If he can live up to her standard with his new restaurant, we’ll all be very lucky indeed.

Spring Crush

Daniel Rose, the American chef, is being wooed. Every day his phone at Spring rings off the hook. “Are you free?” beg the callers, a little too desperate at times for his taste. The answer, short of ten days’ notice, is no.

Hard-to-get is not just a pose for a man with sixteen seats. The diners know their luck in scoring a date. They have read the reviews and know all the rules: one seating and no substitutions. They arrive bursting with anticipation, walking billboards for the season.

The foodie faithful enter the 26 m2 chapel through a door that Rose designed. They are greeted by the acolyte, a lovely waitress who whispers the menu. She constitutes, aside from the occasional stagière, the entire staff of Spring. Rose himself shops and mops and does everything else in between.

The “clients,” as he likes to call them, fall silent with the first course – a velouté sans crème (carotte). They ponder the secret (duck fat) behind his famous creamless soup, which is prettied by a foie gras throw pillow.

When presented with a whole dorade, stuffed with rosemary and red onion, every diner wears the young face of love. Round three, during which Rose wanders, looking worried and asking about salt, is spring lamb en croute à l’Italien .

One wonders, watching Rose with his clients, if perhaps he is wooing them, too. But as he builds the dessert, little towers of cake and cream, the object of his desire becomes clear. Is he touching a lover’s face or arranging a garnish? This young chef has got it bad for his food.

(posted here in April 2007)

Video Testimonial About Daniel Rose’s Cooking

On a hot and humid night in July 2007, I made my first visit to Hidden Kitchen. The “underground supper club” was brand new and still buzzing from a write-up that had appeared on Chocolate & Zucchini. I had brought a new boyfriend and was trying to convince him that I was cool and cosmopolitan. That illusion was shattered when we entered the apartment and a certain someone caught my eye. “Holy crap!” I blurted like a jittery school girl, “you’re David Lebovitz!”

Cornered in the kitchen, David had no choice but to suffer my stalker-like admiration. He was sweet and polite (while inching almost imperceptibly toward the knives) as I rambled on about my favorite blog posts.

I was thinking about that embarrassing encounter last night during a dinner that David and I hosted at Hidden Kitchen. A lot has changed in the three years since that first meeting. David has published three additional books and seen his blog skyrocket to become one of the world’s most popular food sites. Hidden Kitchen has transitioned from being a word-of-mouth secret to something that’s splashed across the front page of the New York Times. And I, well, I’ve learned to control myself and stop acting like such a groupie.

The guests at last night’s dinner, which was organized by Context Travel as part of their “Out of Context” series of special events, did a much better job of behaving themselves than I did when first meeting David. There was hardly any squealing – just delightful conversation between sixteen food lovers from all around the world. Guests had come from as far away as Amsterdam and Los Angeles for the event, and it was great fun to talk food with them between mouthfuls. Braden and Laura revived a few of their greatest HK hits for the occasion, including this personal favorite:

Laura’s dessert was built around a mind-blowing cake, made from David’s recipe for carmelized white chocolate and paired with fresh rhubarb sorbet. While we were licking the last drops from our plates, Lily from Context Travel began to pass out copies of David’s latest (and heaviest!) book. It was a wonderful bonus to an already special night.

A big thank you to everyone who came, to Context Travel for hosting us, to Hidden Kitchen for the delicious meal, and to David for treating me like a friend and not the fawning groupie that I once was (and secretly still am).

Additional links

• My 2007 review of Hidden Kitchen for Gridskipper
• Seth Sherwood’s recent article about Hidden Kitchen in the New York Times
• David’s latest/greatest book, Ready for Dessert
• Context Travel’s gastronomic walking tours of Paris

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 (Thiebault 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

Additional reviews:
John Talbott
Le Fooding