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

> Read other trusted reviews of Spring Restaurant at Paris by Mouth

I hesitated for a split second before accepting, not wanting to criticize a place before the paint on the walls was dry. But I was hungry and up for some fun after a solid week of website construction. So off we went, a motley crew of seven, into the brand new restaurant around the corner. If it sucked, I would remain silent.

Thank goodness it was delicious. From the first moment, when a communal crock of poultry terrine landed on the table, to the very last bite of strawberry dessert, I was happy. Bruno Doucet continues to score with classic dishes based on bright ingredients and sharp technique. Portions are generous, to the point of being painful, and the wine list is stocked with affordable gems like a 2007 Pinot Gris from Ostertag for €40.

The three-course menu at €33 is one of the best dining values in town. As at the original location (and other restaurants like Chez Michel) a few special dishes are available each night for a supplemental charge. Of course we had to try the bright green asparagus with langoustines (+8€), which was better, according to three diners at our table, than they’d had last week at Frédéric Simonin.

I ordered the morels (+6€), which arrived in the shape of a small mountain. I’ve never seen such a generous serving. After eating my fill, I passed them around the table three times and then still had to struggle to finish.

Another winning dish was my poitrine de cochon fermier moelleuse de chez Eric Ospital, la couenne croustillante. In other words, farm-raised pork belly from Eric Ospital (he who puts the song in my croquettes), with a creamy interior and crispy skin. It was exactly as advertised, and the very best belly I’ve ever eaten.

My favorite dessert belonged to Barbra – a Breton sablé with creamy marscapone and bright red Gariguettes. If the strawberry shortcake in Kansas had been this good, I might still be wearing ruby slippers today.

A modest complaint: this freshly-painted beige dining room lacks the soul of its southern counterpart. However, given the choice between an ugly room and a long metro ride, I will take the beige every time. It does seem better suited – given the sparse decor and widely spaced seats, to the Saint-Honore clientèle. It’s hard to imagine Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, the noted designer who was sitting nearby, hanging out in that bustling bistro down south.

Open questions: Being more of a glutton than a reporter, I’m not yet sure whether the southern location will remain open, where Doucet will do most of his cooking, or how they plan to maintain these modest prices with a monthly rent that’s rumored to be around €10,000. For the moment, all I can tell you is to GO.

La Régalade Saint-Honoré
123 rue Saint-Honoré, 75001
Tel: 01 42 21 92 40
Closed Saturday & Sunday

> Read  more trusted reviews for La Régalade – St. Honoré at Paris by Mouth

The look on their faces: that’s the satisfaction that comes from getting what you want.  Which, in this case, was a good time with food and wine to follow a tasting at Spring Boutique. We hadn’t reserved, it was spur of the moment, and we were suffering from post-Bigarrade poverty disorder.

In Paris, no money + no reservation is usually a recipe for disaster. If something is cheap, it is often disgusting. Few options exist between the falafel and the €40 carte. The rare exceptions – restaurants that are both delicious and cheap – are always booked.

Photo: Hidden Kitchen/Flickr

Enter Bistrot Victoires, a bustling place three doors down from Les Fines Gueules and just off the place des Victoires. Two friends, who eat out more than anyone I know (save Mr. Talbott), had recommended it several times.

Photo: Hidden Kitchen/Flickr

We poked our heads in around 9:45 and were greeted with a smile. Our waiter arrived, wearing a cloud of herbal smoke and fresh from (we assumed) a joint  in the alley. It turns out that the smell was actually from a burning branch of thyme that topped the steak with hand-cut fries. It was an honest mistake – he was friendly… in France! Anyone would assume that he had to be high.

The food is fine. It’s not creative, not life-changing, not divine. But it really is quite fine and it costs almost nothing. We four girls each had a main (steak frites, duck confit, roasted chicken), split two desserts (apple tart, profiteroles), and shared two bottles of Morgon. With flattering globe lighting, nostaligic decor and friendly service, it was everything we needed.

And the price: €22 each. A victory indeed!

Bistrot Victoires
6 rue La Vrillière, 75001
01 42 61 43 78
Open every day

My first meal there was memorable for reasons that had nothing to do with the food. The evening began with a visit to (the soon-to-be) Spring restaurant on the rue Bailleul, where I found the construction site overrun by models and wolves. As the fashion shoot was winding down, Daniel Rose proposed a late dinner across the street. He punched in the door code (required to gain entry), and we entered a time machine that took us forty years into the past. I tried to keep my mouth closed as I took in the scene: faux wood paneling on both the walls and the bar… a clock that would not have been out of place at my grandparents’ country club in South Dakota… and Juliette Binoche.

>>read the rest of this review at The Girls’ Guide to Paris

For the lucky/sturdy souls who managed to battle through the bloggers, there were winemakers (Catherine Breton, Jean-Christophe Comor and Jean Montanet) pouring at the back of the boutique. Another wine stand at the front, manned by a cast of headlit deer, kept the ever-growing horde well-lubricated.

And to soak up all that wine, there were stacks of jambon persillé and a “hot dog” of white sausage (boudin blanc) with morilles. The latter – a juicy and slippery thing – continues to perfume the front of my sweater with its sweet and earthy fragrance.

Between the mob, the musicians, and the distraction of delicious things, it was hard to make out the exact details of what they’re selling here at Spring. But this I did see: a basket of oozy Robiola, silver vats of olive oil (Manzanilla from Spain) balancing upon the most beautiful antique stove, floor-to-ceiling cases of wine, a selection of chocolates that drew an approving nod from my pastry-making friend, curious jams with pumpkin and dandelion flower, Martelli pasta, and much more. They’re also stocking fresh seasonal vegetables like black turnip and mâche.

Anyone staying much after 8:00 was almost obliged to escape to the sidewalk, where the expanding crowd threatened to merge with the one spilling out from La Garde Robe across the street. It was a great party, and I’m curious to return another day to drool over the careful selections of Mary-Aude. I don’t expect it to be cheap visit…

Spring Boutique
52 rue de l’Arbre Sec, 75001
01 58 62 44 30