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

Last night marked my fourth visit to l’Avant Comptoir in just over a week. This new wine bar is nowhere near my apartment, so why am I returning again and again?

It’s the ham.

To be precise, it’s the deep-fried ham croquettes. Made with jambon Ibaïona d’Eric Ospital, these little nuggets are like eating, as the Frenchman next to me observed, “une caresse.” Priced at only 3 euros for a stack of three, they represent the cheapest love for sale in the French capital.

Those who prefer their ham without breading will be delighted by the legs swinging from the ceiling. The salty jambon Corse mingles with its Basque and Bigorre cousins above a stash of spicy chorizo and Andouille béarnaise. Order up a planche and then help yourself to the freshly baked bread, Bordier butter and cornichons that are lined up on the counter.

Speaking of the counter, I should mention that this place is only a bar with standing room for about 12 people. You’ll start as strangers, but hours of pressing close and tasting one another’s ham will likely turn you into friends. Last night, for example, our countermates invited us to their apartment next door to finish the evening with a 1963 Armagnac. It’s that kind of place.

Beyond the pork (and the duck neck, and the grilled scallop, sigh…) offerings, vegetarians have plenty to love at l’Avant Comptoir. There’s a lovely Breton artichoke served whole for dipping into silky olive oil, and the grilled cèpe (porcini mushroom) is a minor miracle.
Their wine list is short with plenty of inexpensive treats. I like to begin with the bubbly Mauzac Nature and continue on to the Côtes de Gascogne (2 euros a glass!). And I always make my way over to the magnum of Morgon at some point—it’s just perfect with the ham. Adding to the appeal, l’Avant Comptoir is open every day, with service continu and a takeout window selling sandwiches, waffles and crêpes. I may have to relocate to the 6th . . .

To read more about this new crush and the man behind it (Yves Camdeborde), check out these posts from Dorie Greenspan and Serve It Forth.

In a nutshell: Hit l’Avant Comptoir for a snacky apèro, or camp out at the counter and make a night of it (even on Sunday) by sharing rounds of tapas with friends and strangers.

L’Avant Comptoir
9, Carrefour de l’Odéon, in the 6th Arrondissement.
No reservations. Open every day.

If you like the sound of l’Avant Comptoir but want to stay on the right bank:
Le Garde Robe
41, rue l’Arbre Sec, in the 1st, near Métro Louvre-Rivoli.
01 49 26 90 60.

> Reprinted with permission from the Girls’ Guide to Paris

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