Goodbye, Paris.

Clos Montmartre

 
I am home in Peterborough, and I've left a little piece of my heart in Paris.
 

Paris

The most rewarding thing about experiencing Paris was participating in its unique gastronomical culture. It's very alive in Paris as you might imagine, and far more laid back than you might expect.

Slicing ham at Le Garde Robe

I feel inspired, rejuvenated and a sense of affirmation. I think we can make Le Petit Bar feel like a little Parisian local... and I hope it becomes your corner zinc.

On our last day, we walked and walked and walked in search of a bar called Le Rubis.

Le Rubis

When you walk through the door at Le Rubis you immediately feel like you've entered a Parisian institution. It's clear this bar has been operating for ages, and is the favourite hangout of many locals. Again, it's a tiny place, with a beautiful zinc bar and multiple wines by the glass. It serves comfort food and charcuterie, and is like no bar or restaurant I've ever been to.

When we entered Le Rubis and I asked for a table for two we were sent upstairs, to the second floor "dining room". You access upstairs by stepping behind the bar, opening a very narrow door and following a tight, winding, wooden staircase to the second level. We were greeted  at the top of the stairs by a woman in a tiny kitchen with a man who appears to be the primary cook. The women, it becomes clear, serves and helps assemble the plates. She points us to a room that may be 12'x12' and rammed full of tables. Twenty-four seats, 12 tables of two, and less than an inch between each table. They are arranged in three rows, with 16 seats running parallel to each other in two rows of eight tables, and eight more seats (four tables) perpendicular to those 16, capping off the arrangement. A chalkboard lists the day's lunch options. I choose saucisse-lentilles, and it's a great choice. One nicely browned sausage served beside a heaping serving of puy-lentils braised in a rich stock with some carrot and onion, finished with a generous dollop of butter. It is very simple comfort food, and it's served to us shortly after we order it, along with a carafe of vin blanc - we think it may have been Muscadet.

I really couldn't take many photos in this place. We were elbow to elbow (literally) with our neighbours and it just felt too intimate for me to start snapping away. The place cleared out as we finished our lunch and I whipped out the camera to photograph my dessert, tarte tatin.

Tarte Tatin - Le Rubis

This place was the real deal - the service staff did not speak English and I am sure we were the only non-Parisians in the place. Visiting Le Rubis confirmed for me that a French bar a vins really is a local bar. It's not the American version of a wine bar - super chi-chi with high-end wines and delicate food.

Wine is a delicious drink. It, unfortunately, carries with it a strange stigma in our culture. It, for some ridiculous reason, it's often attached to snobbery or status. In France the bars a vins are like the local pub, but instead of five beers on tap you have five whites and five reds by the glass. Instead of, what we recognizes as, pub-grub you are served simple and hearty charcuterie. You go to the bar a vins to shoot the shit with your neighbours and friends, and your primary drink of choice is wine. We don't have a spot like this in Peterborough, yet. 

A glass at Baron Rouge

At Le Petit Bar you can expect a cozy and comfortable place to sit and relax. You can expect simple and filling charcuterie, intended to be shared with your friends. You can expect to sit relatively close to other patrons, and perhaps make a new friend each time you visit. You can expect ten wines by the glass, some cheap and cheerful, some elegant, some unique and interesting, and some meant for you to splurge on.

Visiting Paris confirmed for me what we are trying to do at Le Petit Bar. It also made me relax and think about how important it is to enjoy everyday, as corny as that may sound. You don't get a cup of coffee to go in Paris, and walk down the street gulping it before you get to your next destination. You set on a terrace, even in January, and people-watch while sipping your cafe. You take a coffee break. You spend a few hours after work over a glass or two of wine, unwinding before worrying about what you're going to eat for dinner (perhaps this is easier to do if you don't have a family!), and then you take your time when you finally sit down to dinner at 9 pm. It's a lifestyle that is a little foreign to us, and in some ways does seem impractical to my North American sensibilities, but it's also so very civilized!

Baguette - Marche Bastille

 
You can probably tell from my posts that Paris was a great experience. I've brought home with me fresh ideas, new energy, revitalized confidence and a few bottles of wine.

I've also made a realization about why why Parisians are so slim. It's quite simple, actually - you can't eat if you're too big to fit between the tables and into the dining room. You have to be slim by necessity, or you aren't eating anything anywhere.

(that's me)

Paris Markets

Marche Bastille et Marche Porte de Vanves

Today, Sunday, we spent the day wondering through the markets lining Paris's streets. We planned to visit Marche Bastille, perhaps the biggest outdoor food market in Paris, and stumbled upon markets on almost every block. Sunday is market day in Paris. Sunday is a good day.. Ahhhh... le marche...

I love farmer's markets. I love our market in Peterborough. Rarely a week goes by when I don't visit the market. I feel very lucky and proud to have our Peterborough Farmer's markets. We have really great markets in Peterborough, but I have to tell you nothing beats Marche Bastille.

Fresh seafood (scallops on the shell with their roe, langoustine, smelts, crab, oysters and whole fish) and meat (including Poulet de Bresse, the famous French breed of chicken with blue feet), cured meats, fromage!, flowers, fruit, vegetables, bread and pastries, prepared foods... what a market - what an experience!

I really feel like I got a taste of Paris life walking through this market, checking out all the beautiful produce, observing Parisian's going about their Sunday morning rituals, absorbing the atmosphere of the market and listening to the vendors singing about their wares, trying to draw customers.

I indulged in another pain au chocolat (when in Paris), and we stopped to to enjoy a mid-morning quiche snack. The next time I am here I am renting an apartment with a kitchen. My head was spinning thinking of all the marvelous things I could prepare with the beautiful ingredients at Marche Bastille.

Next stop was the Marche Porte de Vanves, an antiques market that stretches for blocks. I purchased a couple items that will look pretty fantastic on the walls of Le Petit Bar before we returned to Bastille (where we are staying), and enjoyed lunch in Place des Vosges. I don't have any photos of lunch - they like to pack you in tight (I love it!) which can make hauling out the camera to snap a photo of your steak frites difficult. The cafes, bistrots and brasseries are so bustling! The staff are run off their feet, customers are elbow to elbow,  food is flying out of the kitchens, carafes of wine splash on tables. It really is a unique and wonderful energy.

Now, after dinner in Marais, I am stuffed full of "duck shepherd's pie", or Parmentier de Canard - basically duck rilletes topped with creamy potato puree and baked with a light layer of cheese. Delicious.

Tomorrow is our last day here and I have a few bars a vins on the itinerary - Le Rubis and Verjus. We are going to visit Legrand, a legendary wine shop, and perhaps there will be time for another pain au chocolat and one more stroll through Montmartre...

Paris Day One

Bowfinger, Le Siffleur de Ballons, Le Baron Rouge, Troll Cafe

Ah Paris. The City of Lights. Can I tell you that I really like it here?

Yesterday, day one of my jaunt to Paris, brought a lot of deliciousness with it. Mainly in the form of animal fat, for better or worse.

Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of the first place we (my good friend Rayce Manger and I) ate. Bowfinger is Paris' oldest Brasserie. It was opened by a guy named Bowfinger who came from Alsace. Bowfinger's restaurant in many ways reinvented the Paris restaurant in the 1800s. After his opening, a number of restaurants started following suit, offering delicious food served to you fast by professional (I mean serious) waitstaff dressed in black, white and ties. The classic Alsatian dish Choucroute is among the many things all Brasseries have in common. I knew we should have Choucroute - a sizzling hot combination of cabbage (sauerkraut), boiled potatoes and sausage. What we didn't know was how large the portions were. I wish I had a photo to show you. We were served a mound of beautiful cabbage topped with four whole boiled potatoes, two pork chops, six sausages (differing sorts), and two hefty pieces of lardon. It was delicious and meat-sweat inducing and would you disapprove if I told you we almost ate it all? Smeared with some of the spiciest mustard I've ever had.

Our next dining stop was at Le Siffleur de Ballons. A great little wine cave I read about on David Lebovitz's fantastic blog. 

This place is super cool. Two staff manage a rammed little room (the size of which makes Le Petit look like a banquette hall), serving wine, slicing cured meats, assembling charcuterie boards and helping customers make purchases of the great selection of wine to go.

We had the mixed board - charcuterie and cheese. Simply presented on a board each selection was delicious, the cheese a perfect temperature, and meat melting in our mouths. Preserved apricots were a surprise and treat - definitely on my radar now! And the pickles were perfectly sour and not too vinaigery.

We also shared the Lard de Catalon here. Thinly sliced pieces of cured lard that is meant to be draped over warm bread so that it melts into all the crevices of the baguette. This was amazing. I don't recommend you eat it very often, but boy was it good.

Next stop was Le Baron Rouge for a couple glasses. Another hopping hole in the wall.

This little wine bar has been here for ages. It is famous. Imagine the Only Cafe in Peterborough filled with French people drinking a vast selection of wines, crowded around the house barrels that you can have your recycled bottle filled with to take home, lined up at the petit zinc bar. Yes I've seen my first Paris zinc. And it was great.

The vibe was excited, the place was bright, it was loud and I loved it, even when the don't-mess-with-her woman who was running the kitchen came out to the bar, rang the bell and told us it was last call, suggesting we all "allez!"

By lucky chance we stumbled upon this place: Troll Cafe.

People were spilling out the front door into the street, beer in hand. Duvel, Troll, La Trappe, Lindemans. These people were drinking some really good beer. I love wine. I love the way it smells and tastes. I love how it can be complex and quaff-able. I love its versatility and I love that it has personality. Of course I love it, I'm opening a wine bar. But, in my heart of hearts, I will always be in love with beer. And so I give you photos of the awesome Troll Cafe, from what I can tell, Paris's best beer bar. Wish you were there, Roland.

The City of Lights

In two weeks I'm jetting off to Paris.

I'll be conducting some very serious business over there. I need to do some market research! That includes drinking and eating and bar-watching.

Have you been? Do you have a favourite place? What do I need to see/eat/drink?

Le Dream

I know we are leaving you hanging. You want to know what's going on in that space on Water Street!

Things are happening... but, as it goes sometimes, a little slower than expected. We're waiting to start building (permits and all that), but I want to keep you interested.

I can't wait for what's in my head to burst into that space, filling it with the energy and vibe of Paris. So here are a selection of photos that have served as inspiration for Le Petit Bar. Hopefully it gives you a sense of what I dream about every night...

 

Please note, I've taken all these photos from Google Images. They are not my photos and it is with great pleasure that I share with you someone else's fantastic photographic eye.