Interior - chandeliers, zinc and graffiti. Not pictured: matador art and Mexican wrestling masks

Hens' eggs with cream & truffle

Bacon-wrapped salmon stuffed with pied de veau and surrounded by sea snails

A piece of cod a top a pile of boeuf carrottes

Lamb saddle with a blanket of black truffle atop a knob of (maybe) suckling pig

The famous rice pudding with salted caramel cream and nougatine

A miniature Saint-Honoré

Dining at the anglophone table

I felt like a stalker last night at L’Ami Jean. I walked into this place carrying more back-story than should ever be brought to a restaurant. I knew of love affairs that had taken off because of chef Stéphane Jego’s cooking. I’d heard about marathon sessions in which the most serious eaters I know couldn’t finish everything that was served. I’d been checking the Facebook page, on which they post the daily changing menu, for several months. And I’d been writing about it for years* without ever having been.

Virgins who wait too long before sex have a similar problem. We want it to be special, so we keep putting off the deed. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have the opportunity, during these last years, to hook up with L’Ami Jean. But the timing was never right. I always seemed to think of it, and then perish the thought, when booking for a table that included one of the following: a vegetarian, a picky eater, a girl without the strength of Sophie or Barbra… someone who would interfere with the pig- and gut-feasting for which the restaurant is known.

I started 2012 with a list of restaurants that I really, finally had to visit, and L’Ami Jean was at the very top. When Cédric suggested that we grab a bite after the Stein expo on Saturday night, I knew I had found my moment. I called three days in advance and had no problem booking for the second, later service.

So there I was, standing in the doorway last night, trying to convey with my eyes all that had brought me to this place. “Yes, we have booked (and are so very excited)… under the name of Zimbeck (that’s not French but I’ll eat anything)… for two people (and we mean business).”

My telepathy was not well-understood. The man behind the bar suggested a 15 minute wait, but didn’t ask us about drinks or to take our coats. Instead, he continually reached over our heads to take everyone else’s coats and serve everyone else’s drinks. I finally wrangled two coupes** before being seated at a large table with eight other Anglophones.

I was beginning to regret not coming for the first time with a friend who was already known to the house. But that’s not the way that most of our readers get to experience a place. It was an inauspicious start, but things were about to become much better.

We ordered carte blanche, an €80 option including whatever Jego wants to make. I had starved myself all day in preparation for this feast and was more than ready to eat. The meal began on a soothing note with crouton-dotted crème de parmesan soup. Nothing wild, but quite nice as a base for an empty stomach. Next up: two hens’ eggs with mushrooms, cream and truffles. It didn’t make sense, having two dishes in quick succession that were largely composed of frothy cream. Especially since the truffles (they’re not yet at the peak of flavor) didn’t add very much.

After all of this moaning, let me say very clearly that the next three dishes were among the most delicious I’ve ever eaten. To wit: a perfect salmon nugget, wrapped in bacon skin and stuffed with a lucious sliver of pied de veau (calf’s foot), all surrounded by a sprinkling of tiny bulots (sea snails). A luxurious piece of cod atop an intensely flavored pile of boeuf carrottes (beef & carrots). Lamb saddle, served rosy and wearing a toupée of micro-planed truffle.*** Hiding under the lamb was an unnamed knob of what tasted a lot like suckling pig.

I know from the aforementioned Facebook stalking that Jego sources from Terroirs d’Avenir and other great producers. The base product is impeccable. But the real joy comes from watching/eating what the chef does with these ingredients. Jego’s tweaking of classic bistro flavors doesn’t feel, as is so often the case, haphazard or goofy. Those three great dishes each conveyed a feeling of comfort while also sharing – and this is difficult – something new.

My earlier complaints about the welcome dissolved in the wake of Jego’s food. And the Anglophone table turned out to be delightful – we shared an Armagnac with a couple of Maltese experts in Bordeaux wine who have been coming to L’Ami Jean for years.  The problems I mentioned (and a few others I didn’t) stem largely from having two seatings and not enough time to devote to every table. If they had only one seating, prices would be higher, it would be harder to get in, and not as many people would have the pleasure of discovering Jego’s food. It’s a trade-off that I can live with.

Practical information

Address: 27 rue Malar, 75007
Nearest transport: La Tour Maubourg (8)
Hours: Closed Sunday, Closed Monday
Telephone: 01 47 05 86 89
Website

Read other trusted reviews on our website Paris by Mouth

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* When I say that I had written about it, I mean short blurbs (not proper reviews) for guide books like Frommer’s Paris.

** Everyone at the bar was drinking Jacquesson (Champagne) with ice cubes. Are we doing that now?

*** The dish was outstanding, but I’m not sure that shaving truffles this fine is the best way to maximize their flavor.

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

I panicked, on a recent winter night, when some friends asked me to organize a dinner. Choosing a restaurant is something that I usually enjoy, but the guests for this particular occasion were a couple of chefs. And not just any chefs, but senior chefs working in three-star restaurants.

My anxiety subsided as soon as I remembered Les Papilles. This homey little spot near the Jardin du Luxembourg is a favorite among food and wine insiders. I think it’s something to do with the simple and honest cooking, the well-priced wine selection and the likability of owner Bertrand Bluy.

Bluy worked for years as a pastry chef (Fauchon, Troisgros) before opening his own place under a refreshingly simple banner: “des beaux produits traités simplement et de bons vins… C’est tout, on n’est pas là pour se prendre la tête!” Bluy’s mission—to serve beautiful products, prepared simply, with good wine and without frills—makes Les Papilles a place that’s enjoyed by both big spenders and budget travelers.

> Continue reading at The Girls’ Guide to Paris

> Read other trusted reviews on Les Papilles at Paris by Mouth

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

I eventually figured out that Inaki Aizpitarte, the Basque chef from la Famille and Transversal, had taken over shortly after my visit. The old-school bistro setting hadn’t changed, but the acrobatic food was altogether new. I returned to see/eat what all the fuss was about, and experienced a four-course show so delicious that I was able to remember and (drunkenly) recite it when I met Inaki at a friend’s wedding.

Now, with rumors circulating about the chef’s possible departure, I decided to revisit le Chateaubriand. Booking is still hell. The phone was answered after fifteen attempts, which saved me from the usual pain of walking over to beg in person. I was told they were full until I used the name of my visiting boss and then voilà, a table fell from the sky. The same thing happened, incidentally, when I called to book le Comptoir de la Relais. There really is an alternate universe beyond the one that we plebians see.

If you can make it past the gates, le Chateaubriand is a surprisingly sweet and convivial place. The all-male waitstaff provides plenty of eye-candy, and the crowd is always interesting to watch. Cross-town foodies arrive early, while the well-paid hipsters who make up the core clientele tend to show up after 10pm.

The menu, despite its daily reinvention, hasn’t much changed. It’s still a four-course menu unique (no choices, no subs) for €45. Printed on simple xerox paper, the dish names are deceptively simple. For example, “tranche de boeuf, aubergine, faiselle” was much more than the sum of those components. The beef was cooked rarer than I usually like (they don’t ask), but its bloody character contrasted brilliantly with the other flavors.  Dressed with snowflake-thin slices of raw cauliflower, it mingled on the plate with faiselle (a mild and light fresh cheese) and smokey eggplant. Like most of Inaki’s creations, it was a surprising combination of elements that I would never dream of putting together.

At this price, le Chateaubriand is still one of the most compelling dining experiences in Paris. It’s perfect for adventurers who can appreciate both spirited cooking and rumpled waiters. It’s not the right choice for anyone who has food issues or is unwilling to jump through those reservation hoops.

Here’s the run down (€45 for four courses, plus amuse):

Maigre, verdure (raw white fish with vegetables)

Cabillaud, lardo di colonnata, PDT (cod, thinly-sliced lard and potatoes)

Tranche de boeuf, aubergine, faiselle (beef with thinly sliced cauliflower, smokey eggplant, and faiselle – a mild fresh cheese)

Fraises, chantilly (strawberries and whipped cream, with pop rocks tucked inside)

Le Chateaubriand
129 avenue Parmentier, 11th arrondissement, 01 43 57 45 95?