Restaurant reviews

My two favourite restaurants in Paris

My two favourite restaurants in Paris

Whenever we come to Paris, whatever new places we book, we still always make time to see two old favourites, Le Baratin and Bistrot Paul Bert.

Why? Because they’re two places that remind you that restaurants are not just about eating but the whole experience of being there. They have hinterland, character and soul.

Actually last time we booked the trendier Le 6 Paul Bert and regretted it. Not because the room wasn’t lovely or the food isn’t good but because it lacked the parent restaurant’s cosiness and theatre

The Hercule-Poirot like figure sitting in a maroon velvet smoking jacket by the entrance at what was presumably his favourite table. The two old girls (80 at least) who’d come in for a good gossip and a slap-up lunch. The young woman scribbling earnestly in a notebook with a pencil. A pencil! All Parisian life is there.

The set price lunch must be one of the best bargains in the city: 19 euros for three generous courses. And there’s choice - increasingly rare in the hipper hangouts in Paris these days. I had a generous slab of coarse, chunky terrine which arrived with a sharply dressed salad (with shallot in the vinaigrette - full marks) and a perfectly seasoned steak tartare and chips with plenty of capers. And I’m difficult to please on the steak tartare front. Dessert was a simple but delicious slice of roast pineapple and vanilla ice cream.

My husband ordered from the more expensive 38€ menu so we could have cheese. And what cheese! It arrived on a massive cheeseboard which was just left on the table. Only the fact we’d already eaten so much prevented us doing more damage to it. He also had a mound of fat white asparagus and a huge portion of veal kidneys in mustard sauce. Cooked just pink as he ordered.

You would of course spend a great deal more if you did full justice to the wine list which includes a fine selection of Burgundy, Rhone and Bordeaux. We contented ourselves with a relatively modest Beaujolais (a 2011 Descombes Brouilly) which suited the food perfectly. It was served at exactly the right temperature (cool) and again left on the table for us to help ourselves instead of having our glasses relentlessly topped up. (Does that annoy anyone else?)

Le Baratin is admittedly less immediately congenial. For a start it’s in a rougher part of town. The welcome is not particularly warm if you’re a first timer or, worse still, don’t speak French The clientele who have made the trek sometimes seem more concerned to tick the experience off than actually enjoy it. The girl on the next door table had obviously come to eat just one dish and snap it with a large SLR.

The food isn’t fancy. But it’s made from impeccably sourced ingredients and tastes like the best home cooking you’ve ever had. Which it may well be. Unusually the mains are high point - big generous platefuls of food that you dream about for months afterwards.

On a Friday evening I had a mound of roast chicken from a bird which had obviously lived - a breast, a flavourful drumstick and a deeply savoury wing along with a cascade of fresh vegetables that tasted as if they have been harvested earlier that day - spring onion, leek, carrots, potatoes and chard. No sauce, just the natural meat and vegetable juices.

My husband had a roast shank of Pyrenéean milk-fed lamb with barely wilted spinach and sweet, mealy new potatoes - hardly seasoned but so intense in flavour. Both dishes showed off our wine - Jean-François Nicq’s 2012 Les Foulards rouges Glaneurs, a pure, bright, vivid grenache, to perfection. It wasn’t on the chalked up wine list which is more by way of being a conversation-opener about what you might want to drink. It’s pretty well all natural.

Starters by contrast are simply a warm-up act - a big plate of Iberico ham (husband) and braised artichokes with lemon (me). Both tasty without stealing the show from what was to follow. They absolutely do the job.

Finally an extraordinarily good apple crumble of exactly the right texture, temperature and proportion of topping to filling. Only the cheese - an oddly bland Beaufort - was a disappointment. Our waiter sent for the gaffer who lurks behind the bar sizing up the clientele like a bird of prey*. We quaked but explained that we didn’t think it matched the quality of the rest of the ingredients. He shrugged as if we were mad but found he had taken it off the bill (€120 for two compared to €98 at the Paul Bert but Le Baratin is also cheaper at lunchtime.)

Bistrot Paul Bert is easy to love. It’s the French bistro of dreams. The Baratin less so but if you succumb to its offbeat charms you’ll be as hooked as we are. As many have remarked it's more like eating in someone's home than a restaurant. No wonder so many chefs hang out there.

These two Paris institutions have been there for years but won’t go on for ever. Philippe and his wife Raquel who presides over the Baratin kitchen must at least be thinking about retirement and it won’t be the same when they’ve gone. Go while you have the chance.

Bistrot Paul Bert is at 18 rue Paul Bert. Tel: 01 43 72 24 01 Nearest Metro: Faidherbe Chaligny

Le Baratin is at 3 rue Jouye-Rouve. Tel: 01 43 49 39 70. Nearest Metro: Pyrenées

NB. There is another Paul Bert and another Baratin in Paris. Make sure you go to the right ones.

* That said he did recognise us this time, cracked a smile and gave us a table big enough for 4. We've obviously passed the test.



 

Thai tapas in Paris at Le Mary Celeste - updated March 2015

Thai tapas in Paris at Le Mary Celeste - updated March 2015

Eating Thai tapas in a city like Paris represents everything I dislike about eating out - a mish-mash of cooking styles, food you can eat anywhere - and yet I loved it. (Apparently the chef has moved on. See my update below from a subsequent visit in March 2015)

My husband, the master planner of the trip but not normally a Thai food fan was insistent we should go back to Le Mary Celeste, a restaurant we'd only managed to have a drink and a couple of oysters in on our last trip.

His meticulous researches (see How to plan a food trip to Paris) had revealed that it was now the scene in the Marais where we’re staying. It would be convenient, he argued, on the first night.

When I saw the menu I thought ‘Ha! He’ll hate it’ - apart from the natural wine list. There was next to no meat and far too many vegetables for a red-blooded Welshman. Of course I was proved wrong.

Apart from the oysters which are the speciality of the place dishes are in fact slightly bigger than tapas - more like raciones - but still designed for sharing as our very sweet waitress explained. (The service is unusually friendly for Paris.) The tables are so small they have to be served one by one.

The first dish - roast cauliflower with some chilli-infused fish sauce, hazelnuts and herbs (coriander) was unlikely but a real winner, the sort of dish you want to work out how to make at home. ‘Thai tacos’ (below) with a larb-style pork patty and pickles and chilli mayo was a dribblingly messy sandwich of a dish I’d happily go back for. Oeufs du diable, a spicy riff on egg mayonnaise was a spicy mouthful of bright fresh ginger, onions and crunchy fried rice. Gorgeous. Only some rather strange slabs of rice cake with a fiery radish dressing didn’t quite come off. My other half chomped his way contentedly through the meal admiring the chef’s boldness with seasoning. Wonders will never cease.

The wine we drank - a Tête de Gondole, a crisp blend of chenin and sauvignon from Domaine Chahut et Prodiges, frankly struggled to keep up with the onslaught. We’d have probably done better to order a cocktail which was obviously what most of the young clientele were going for. I was particularly tempted by the Koh Garden (Aalborg aquavit, homemade kaffir lime leaf and galangal syrup and lime) though it might have possibly been an overload with all that punchy food. And they cost 12€ (£9.88/$13.63) which would have undoubtedly bumped up the cost of our otherwise very reasonable €59 (£48.57) meal though remember French bills include service.

The menu changes daily so we might even go again during our stay. If we can get in, that is. It gets rammed so you need to book during the limited time they take bookings - or be prepared to queue.

Update from a subsequent visit in March 2015

Returning to the Mary Celeste a year later I’m not quite sure why I dubbed it Thai. Sure there are Asian inflections but not specifically Thai ones.* Only the oysters and oeufs du diable still remain on the menu and are as good as ever - the rest was a bit of a mixed bag.

A chickpea salad with beetroot, feta and mint was fresh and tasty as was a plate of panisse with chimichurri sauce but an ‘assiette de broccolis’ was tough and undercooked with barely a smear of the advertised smoked haddock purée.

The wine list is more extensive than on earlier visits - we drank a delicious pet nat (petillant sparkling wine) called X bulles from Muscadet producer Vincent Caillé which suited the food perfectly.

Mary Celeste is noisy and cramped but it has an incredible buzz. Think of it more as a bar to have a drink and a couple of snacks than a restaurant and you won’t be disappointed. Our bill was a reasonable €76.20 (£54) for two but we could have spent less.

*I've since learnt the chef has moved on.

Le Mary Celeste is at 1 rue Commines, 75003 Paris 09 80 72 98 83. They open at 2pm but don’t start serving food till 7pm and you can’t book after 7.30pm.

5 of my favourite French restaurants in London

5 of my favourite French restaurants in London

For the past few years French food has been eclipsed by more fashionable Italian and Asian but there are still some great places to go if you want a taste of Paris without having to cross the Channel.

In no particular order:

Casse-croute - Bermondsey

I struggled to get into this tiny bistro when it first opened and even recently only managed to score a 6.30 reservation but if you’re a Francophile you’ll absolutely love this kitsch little dining room. Given the size of the operation the menu is sensibly short - 3 choices for each course - but you can also dip into the bar menu. Mains such as (a very good) bavette gratin sauce dauphinoise and pig’s cheek with sauce moutarde mash are also well priced at £14-£14.50: desserts like tarte tatin are just £4.50. A short list of simple French wines from small producers, available both by the glass and carafe completes the picture. (The menu changes every day - check the restaurant's Twitterstream @Cassecroute109 for updates.)

Brasserie Zédel - Piccadilly

A brilliant reincarnation of the classic Parisian brasserie by those ace restaurateurs Chris Corbin and Jeremy King of The Wolseley fame. The food isn't totally consistent (though that's also true of Paris) but the prices are ridiculously good and the room is just dazzling. Amazingly given its central location (just off Piccadilly Circus) there’s an £8.95 prix fixe menu though I’d pick your own entrées myself. Carottes rapées (£2.95), Céleri Rémoulade (£3.25), Tarte aux Poireaux et Gruyère (£3.25), Oeufs durs mayonnaise (£3.75) - you wouldn’t do better on the Left Bank. There’s also a plat du jour for £12.95 and three different types of choucroute, the house speciality.

Racine - Knightsbridge

A great tribute to bourgeois French cooking by Francophile Henry Harris, this smart little Knightsbridge bistro is a long-term favourite. You’ll probably go for the well-priced prix-fixe lunch (£17.75 for two courses, £19.50 for three including, currently, Middle White pork rillettes, grilled Iberico pork with Morteau sausage and white beans and Poire Belle Hélène) but end up being tempted to stray onto the à la carte (grilled rabbit with mustard sauce and smoked bacon (£17.75), tête de veau, sauce ravigote (£17.75), braised lamb ‘à sept heures’ (£19.50) or, for a real splash-out, the Côte de boeuf (£78.50 for two), the ideal way to enjoy one of the best bottles on Harris’s excellent wine-list.

Le Gavroche - Mayfair

For classic old-style French dining and service to match there’s nowhere to beat Michel Roux’s family-run Le Gavroche. Prices are now so steep they don’t even put them on the website so stick to the three course ‘business lunch’ at £54.60 which sounds a lot but includes a half bottle of very decent wine (French, obviously). The menu changes regularly but the website currently shows dishes such as calamars sautés en persillade et risotto a l’encre de seiche, la piece de boeuf, grillée echalote et sauce au vin rouge and soufflé glacé aux noisettes. If you do stray onto the à la carte (don’t say I didn’t warn you) don’t miss the soufflé suissesse - a featherlight cheese soufflé with double cream.

Green Man, French Horn - St Martin’s Lane (Trafalgar Square)

One of a number of French-inspired restaurants and wine bars run in partnership with natural wine importeres Les Caves de Pyrène (others are Terroirs just round the corner, Brawn in Hackney and Soif in Battersea). GMFH theoretically serves food from the Loire region though many of the dishes, like andouillette, can be found elsewhere in France - if you're lucky, these days. The French influence is not slavish - many dishes like leek, crab, egg and horseradish (£9.75) and gurnard, monk’s beard and shellfish vinaigrette (£19) are given a modern twist. There’s a cheaper lunch and pre-theatre menu for £14.50 for 2 courses. Wine from £4 a glass though spend more and you’ll be rewarded.

The Brackenbury: a rather nice restaurant

The Brackenbury: a rather nice restaurant

My father, a sweet man who was never unpleasant about anyone had a phrase for people or places about which he couldn’t summon up much enthusiasm. "Rather nice."

The Brackenbury is rather nice. The food is nice. The wine is nice (actually very nice). I just can’t get quite as excited as I feel I should about it.

That’s partly due to the burden of expectation I brought to my first visit last night. Back in the '90s, when it was run by Adam and Kate Robinson it was one of the most popular restaurants in London. To hear that it had been taken over by Ossie Gray former manager and wine buyer for the River Cafe (and son of the late great Rose) and the well-qualified Humphrey Fletcher who had also cheffed at the River Caff, Kensington Place and all sorts of other worthy places promised a return to the good old days

The food is certainly hard to fault kicking off with the stylish little ‘plate of savouries’ we ordered while we were trying to decide what else to eat - olives, capers, a very good egg mayonnaise and a couple of mini bruschetti, topped with softly cooked onions and anchovies.

My starter of vodka-cured salmon with roast baby beets and a punchy horseradish dressing was delicious. My host had a generous scoop of very well made rillettes and celeriac remoulade. Classic.

We both opted for fish as a main course, in my case a satisfyingly chunky piece of Skrei cod which broke into beautiful pearly flakes. It came with salsa verde, radicchio and (very slightly underdone) potatoes. My friend had a nicely cooked (drat that word keeps creeping in) fresh lemon sole with braised peas and lettuce

He had cheese - a slice of well-matured Lincolnshire Poacher, home-made chutney and oatcakes. I went for Yorkshire ginger pudding with butterscotch sauce - basically a gingery sticky toffee pudding. Ni... No, I’m not going to say that. Perfectly fine though I think I should have ordered the rather more glamourous iced Paris brest, a giant profiterole with hot chocolate sauce which I spotted sailing past.

We ordered a glass of pinot bianco (impeccable) and a classy bottle of Selvapiana Chianti* which would probably have cost at least a tenner more at the River Café.

So what’s the problem? I guess it’s that the restaurant, so fondly remembered for having bags of personality just doesn't have much. The rooms, painted off-white the way TV experts advise in order to sell your house, feels designed to cause minimum offence. There are no pictures. The lights are too bright.

The service while perfectly competent lacks warmth and thoughtfulness. No bread is offered with my salmon, an extra spoon would have been welcome with the pud. It would have been sensible from the restaurant’s point of view to offer a glass of dessert wine. They just don’t go the extra mile.

Maybe it’s simply that it’s not the old Brackenbury but. be honest, who else cares 20 years on? The locals clearly love it and I don't think Gray has any ambitions other than to create a good neighbourhood restaurant. That he's done. I would undoubtedly go regularly if I lived on the doorstep but I’m not sure it’s worth crossing London for these days.

The Brackenbury is at 129 Brackenbury Road, London W6 0BQ. Tel: 020 8741 4928. We spent about £136 but did choose quite an expensive bottle. I reckon you could get away with £40 a head on food.

* an odd choice with fish you might think but it was a light elegant wine which went perfectly with the cod and salsa verde

Worth the detour: Mayfields, Wilton Way

Worth the detour: Mayfields, Wilton Way

If you’re not familiar with London Hackney sounds a heck of a long way to go for dinner. But believe me Mayfields is worth it.

And it’s actually not that far. Take the Victoria Line to Highbury & Islington, change onto the overground, a couple of stops to Hackney Central and walk 7-8 minutes. Or jump on one of the many buses that pass nearby*

When you see the restaurant you might not think it’s that special. It's really quite small, more like a café or a chic Parisian restaurant that only insiders know about. The menu’s short too but interesting - REALLY interesting. It’s hard to make a decision about what to eat - always a good sign.

How to describe the food? It’s hard to pin down. Some Asian influences, some Italian ones - if I had to choose one word to describe it it would be bold. Big flavours, no shrinking from offbeat combinations or unusual tastes and textures.

We ordered a number of small plates which came in random and not totally logical order - a feature that will no doubt irritate some who like meals to proceed in a more orderly fashion. I don’t mind, myself.

Barely cooked mackerel and squid come in a vivid green watercress sauce. Fine silken slices of scarlet venison carpaccio with an intriguingly smoky flavour are anointed with grated horseradish, perched on rough sourdough toast and cubes of pear.

A brilliant veggie dish of salty monk’s beard (almost like samphire) is partnered with earthy sweet turnip, mealy beans and bottarga. Super-fresh dab tempura with dashi. Incredibly rare, almost raw duck breast with Jerusalem artichoke, carrot and rhubarb is the only dish that doesn’t quite work. Too rare, even for me.

We have to have the chocolate mousse and kaffir lime ice cream which is even better than it sounds - a smooth, warm, velvety chocolate goo, with the fragrant ice-cream melting over it. But the cheese isn’t too shabby either. A really well chosen Abondance and Cathare goats cheese - the former particularly good with a Jura Chardonnay.

The list which is put together by Borough Wines opposite will make anyone who’s into organic and biodynamic wines very happy. Everything is available by the glass. As well as the Jura (Philippe Vandelle’s Blanc l’Etoile) we had a glass of crisp, refreshing St Esteve Blanc de Blancs sparkling ugni from the Luberon (£6.50 a glass), a glass of Thierry Germain’s ‘Soliterre’ Chenin (£6.25), good with practically everything but the duck, and shared a glass of Chateau des Moriers Moulin à Vent Beaujolais (£6.75). It’s a rewardingly offbeat list.

If you don’t go mad you could get away with around £25 on food and £14 for wine a head, so just over £40 with service which is more than fair for an exhilaratingly good meal. I just wish it was on my doorstep but even if it isn’t on yours, go. Go ...

Mayfields is at 52 Wilton Way, London E8 6GG. Tel: 020 7254 8311. The menu changes regularly so you may get offered something quite different - but hopefully that kaffir lime ice cream.

For a full list of buses see the Find us page of the website

I ate at Mayfields as a guest of the restaurant.

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