Above: Mushroom tarte at Pristine
People who do not accept the new, grow old very quickly.”
A Guide to Modern Cookery, Auguste Escoffier, 1907
We’re already old. We arrived at this stage in but the blink of an eye and certainly have no desire to accelerate the aging process. This is the excuse I offer for not sticking to French food in France.
My hero chefs are those unafraid to pluck ingredients and fuse ideas from many cultures. The evolutionary development of European cuisine as a whole has been speeding along ever since those first traders sailed eastward to discover an explosion of spices and westward to find revolutionary crops – such as tomatoes and cacao.
This alphabetical list of restaurants is not about onion soup, quiche or croque-monsieurs; although nothing is wrong with ordering those standards. To get things rolling A, is for Assanabel Saint-Germain des Pres (6th Arrondissement; another branch in the 10th District).
Members of the Charaf family opened their first restaurant outside of Lebanon in the 1970s, and that Emirates restaurant began racking up international awards. Family-run, but chef-driven, not mom-and-pop style.
Assanabel’s hummus is a soft cloud of chickpea puree with an abundance of fresh lemon and parsley encircling a pool of rich sesame oil. Mezzes galore and numerous types of fritters beckon, but there’s a limit on how much you can consume in one meal. We opted for kebbe krass – cracked wheat hulls stuffed with minced meat, walnuts and pine nuts. Our mixed grill featured skewers of grilled lamb, chicken and kafta, minced meat. A lot of meat after the plump kebbe.
The star of the show, a dish I would happily order over and over again, was the house specialty, fattete Assanabel. The English translation on the menu describes this simply as eggplant, bread, yogurt and meat. Yawn. Don’t be fooled, it is absolutely luscious. The only way I could describe it adequately is to show you the complexities of its preparation via Assanabel’s own Instagram post.
Above: Assanabel Saint-Germain des Pres
Not on a main street or adjacent to any tourist attraction, Binchotan (14th Arrondissement) must rely on word of mouth. With its turntable spinning 1970s’ classics, the casualness of this charcoal grill does not reflect its unexpected treatment of seasonal ingredients.
Tahini verde and miso aioli zigzagged across juicy, plump asparagus. Grilled shitake mushrooms were amazing. An emulsion of coconut milk, ginger and cucumber enhanced perfectly cooked salmon, and a yellow garlic and mild chile sauce topped a Vietnamese-style shrimp dish. Again, wish we could have tried more.
Above: Binchotan
The first time we visited Blueberry Maki Bar (6th Arrondissement) we were seated with only a few other couples in the handsome inner dining room; when we returned for a more extended family lunch with seven, wisely, we were seated in the crowded, casual front room. It’s hard to tamp down the exuberance of a group exchanging tastes of everything.
I always enjoy the comfort of a cup of miso as an amuse-bouche but never have I tasted any as flavorful as Blueberry’s buckwheat broth – so good one person in our group ordered an entire bowl after tasting it. I’ve never found the sweetness or texture of tamagoyaki, or Japanese omelettes, appealing, but Blueberry’s crab version paired on a salad plate with sashimi changed my opinion.
The geisha, sort of a thin crispy pancake, was topped with a taramasalata sauce, tuna sliced so thinly as to be sheer and bottarga, crumbles of dried fish roe creating a balance of both delicate and intense bursts of flavor. Whether sashimi, nigiri or chirashi, the freshness of the seafood shimmers in the photos below. The plate with the egg crowned with golden caviar pearls is a lunchtime version of omakasa, served as a sampler platter instead of in courses. The male teens at our table each polished off one, pronouncing it their favorite meal in Paris.
Above: Blueberry Maki Bar
The Lebanese flatbread pictured below is manakish, and it always attracts a line of people outside the door of Chez le Libonais (6th Arrondissement). We joined them one night but took ours to-go instead of eating on the street. We opted for a fish one to share and recommend grabbing one sometime if you are ambling about the Left Bank neighborhood.
Above: Chez le Libonais
We had read somewhere that Dalmata (11th Arrondissement) turned out a worth-the-hike, Neapolitan-style pizza. The review was true. A green salad with roasted vegetables followed by affogatos for dessert contributed to the pleasurable experience.
Above: Dalmata
In need of a Peruvian fix, we found El Picaflor (5th Arrondissement) near the Jardin des Plantes. We started off with a pair of Pisco sours and a nice ceviche. Parihuela is a traditional seafood soup with a rich fish broth. The showpiece was a searing hot platter of caramelized grilled octopus, as delicious as it looks.
Above: El Picaflor
Upon reading La Maison du Jardin (6th Arrondissement) has changed ownership since our visit in June, I considered not mentioning it. But the “bistronomic” restaurant near the Luxembourg Gardens is now family-run, which is appealing. Plus, the daurade fish with a cream curry sauce and our favorite dish both remain on the menu. Golden, delicate pastry-enrobed lamb perched atop grilled eggplant for a work-of-art take on a pastilla.
Above: La Maison du Jardin
There’s a lot of confusion about L’Alchimiste (12th Arrondissement) on the internet. Tripadvisor categorizes it as a Mexican restaurant, but the only thing Mexican about it that we noticed was the pottery. The vibe is neighborhood funkiness, and it’s a great lunch stop when exploring the Promenade Plantee Rene-Dumont, a three-mile elevated linear park built atop an obsolete railway.
The daily “formule” printed on a large blackboard evidenced frequent changes. A pastry “brick” encompasses a filet of cod, sprinkled with blue cheese atop a bed black wild rice and a red pepper puree. Continuing on a jag of distinctive pastillas, the alchemist lurking in the kitchen concocted one filled with duck confit, pistachios, dates and honey atop a traditional French potato gratin dauphinois. Somehow all this category-defying fusion works.
For dessert, an apple tarte was topped with a nut crumble and surrounded by a milky caramel sauce. Our other dessert selected featured apples roasted and colored by black currents with a dark chocolate and violet liqueur sauce.
Above: L’Alchimiste
I must confess that Le Carre Elysee (8th Arrondissement) does not fit the profile of restaurants I usually like. Located off the Champs-Elysees with white-aproned waiters and populated with suits at lunch and tourists for dinner – so Right-Banksy. Yet the food proved delicious, with perfectly efficient service and a menu stocked with French classics ideal for introducing our family guests to Paris.
Multiple kinds of freshly shucked oysters, including the pictured Utah Beach No. 2s, were luscious. Eggplant stuffed with ratatouille and rice could be the pride of almost any vegetarian restaurant. I’m not sure where the rest of the asparagus went, but a plateful of fresh tips was a pleasure to polish off. Salmon was paired with a layer of robust red pesto, and duck set aflame made an ooh-la-la impression.
Above: Le Carre Elysee
The focus at Le Mary Celeste (3rd Arrondissement) appears to be on small plates to go with craft cocktails and “winegrowers’ wines” offered until the wee hours of the night. Grilled asparagus (I assume you’ve gathered asparagus were in their prime season while we were there.) were tender, and sea bream aguachile was refreshing. The lackluster shrimp toast was left unfinished.
Above: Le Mary Celeste
‘In life you have to use your gifts,’ said my father. What inspires me on a daily basis is to share with you my love of small dishes, teranga, the cultural richness of Senegal and childhood memories.”
Marie Barthelemy, Le Petit Dakar
Le Petit Dakar (3rd Arrondissement) introduced us to the melange of spices in Senegalese cooking, enticing us to return to get better acquainted. “Street food” meant to share included fish empanadas and skewers of fried plantains. Grilled vegetables topped a fresh salad.
Entrees we tried included a large red pepper filled with a spicy fish mixture surrounded by saucy vegetables. Mafe, a thick peanut-buttery tomato sauce, was available in a beef or vegetarian version loaded with sweet potatoes and rice on the side. The only dessert we tried was a pleasantly sweet slice of leche-soaked coconut cake. Plan ahead, which we did not, to reserve a seat on Fridays to try thieboudienne, a one-pot meal that is the national dish of Senegal.
Above: Le Petit Dakar
We ate at least twice at Le Petit Medicis (6th Arrondissement), but I managed to zap some of the photos. I definitely think the ones below will provide you an idea of what lunch there means. Feta and pine nuts topped a beetroot tartare salad. Leeks with a Parmesan tuile were a work of art. A compote of onions, tomatoes, olives and mushrooms provided a bed for seared tuna. While moist duck confit raised its golden-skinned leg above creamy mashed potatoes.
Above: Le Petit Medicis
Escaping the crowded banks of the Seine by exploring northward along the pathways of Canal Saint-Martin and Canal de l’Ourcq, we found linear parks where Parisians hang out. Our walk led us straight into Paname Brewing Company (19th Arrondissement). Of course, we were ready to quench our thirst with a beer, but we were surprised by the brewpub’s food. Both the lentil salad and lamb barbeque sandwich were delicious. The image below is the view from Paname’s laidback patio.
Above: Paname Brewing Company
Pristine (9th Arrondissement) refers to itself as a produce-driven restaurant; I call it a produce-hunter’s heaven. The kitchen works magic with vegetables, as evidenced by the mushroom tarte at the top of this post. Even though it was more than a half-hour walk from the apartment we were renting, we hiked there at least three times for the frequently changing menu.
Spring peas, fennel, rhubarb and mint were combined in a new-moon tartare. Slivers of asparagus, beans and crusty croutons topped creamy scrambled eggs. Asparagus tempura were astride a quinoa salad accented with a fresh tarragon cheese and a poached egg. I can’t remember the ingredients in the dish of baby turnips and pureed celery root, as the bowl emptied too quickly. On another occasion, baby turnips and chard were paired with slices of smoked chicken in a dark, spicy bouillon.
Among other dishes we devoured were a braised baby gem lettuce salad; a potato gallette; and mushroom and chickpea balls in a mole sauce atop smashed potatoes. We only made it to the dessert course once to try the ice-cream sandwich ever-present on the menu. A crispy, honey-glazed buckwheat waffle is stuffed with a super creamy filling studded with hazelnuts. A bit rich to us, but it appeared on every table of regulars.
Above: Pristine
Terre restaurant is above all a return to the roots, from the root that germinates, to the land that nourishes…. we took out our grandmothers’ notebooks, found plates in the four corners of Paris, and revisited everything in our own way.”
The changing menu at Terre (11th Arrondissement) also drew us in for multiple visits. Examples: cubes of fresh tuna and salmon marinated in a ginger and citrus dressing; or large shrimp standing at attention in another herb-accented starter; or shrimp dumplings bathed in a light, frothy sauce. We trusted the kitchen enough to try asparagus, leeks and eel in a saffron and ginger aioli and found eel, in the right hands, can be enjoyed.
Traditional casarecce pasta was offered with lamb shoulder confit and non-traditional kimchi and gochujang condiments; coiled buckwheat pasta broke out of Italian confines as well. Red tuna gleamed amidst a myriad of fruits, olives and herbs. Shrimp and chicken dumplings were accented with oyster mushrooms, slivered white asparagus and wild garlic – all awaiting a shower of a foamy Thai shellfish broth. Desserts we sampled included a deconstructed strawberry tarte and one with cherries multiple ways.
Above: Terre
On our way back and forth from the Fondation Louis Vuitton (16th Arrondissement), a museum designed by Frank Gehry (1929-2025), we decided to walk through a portion of Bois de Boulogne and the affluent suburb of Neuilly-sur-Seine. This led us to lunch at Terzo Ristorante, a pleasant Italian restaurant if you want to explore that part of western Paris. The lunch specials we tried that day had a Sicilian accent – spaghetti with anchovies and bottarga; and European bass, or branzino, fillet with an olive caponata on the side and its top.
Above: Terzo Ristorante
These restaurant suggestions take in a lot of arrondissements, but, if you want to experience even a small portion of Paris, you have to cover a lot of ground.
Postcards from Barton Springs 