Ptipois

Rice goes with traditional recipes like blanquette de veau (not "veau de blanquette"), and various dishes involving chicken in a sauce (poule au riz, poulet au blanc, poulet basquaise, poulet au curry — French-style curried chicken, much older than it sounds), or fish or shellfish in a tomato or cream-based sauce like armoricaine or dieppoise. Apart from that, the traditional uses of rice are not many in the Northern and Western half of France, and quite numerous in the Southeastern part (Provence and Nice), though rice has been known for centuries all over the country. Some relatively ancient use of rice is recorded in Brittany, probably because of the abundance of seafood products and the importance of the sea trade that also brought spices, teas and coffees. Rice with bœuf bourguignon = never. The usual side dish is potatoes, preferrably boiled or steamed. In some regions beef stews will go with pasta-style dishes like gnocchi, polenta or fidés (pasta cooked by the absorption method). In France there is no history of rice with beef stew that I can think of.

You're quite welcome.

A tricky question since, to begin with, traditional bread shapes (which vary according to the regions) should be distinguished from the innumerable new bread shapes with alluring country-style names that are dictated by the flour companies' marketing departments to the boulangers all over France. It seems that there are new ones coming out every week. That makes the matter very complicated. All in all, until we may go further into the investigation, please note that: - The more "country"-like a bread sounds from its name (campaillette, campaillou, banette, pain bûcheron, pain du meunier, etc.), the more likely it is to be shaped by the perverse mind of the modern bread marketing industry. - "Baguette de tradition" (so-called traditional baguette) is as far as it is possible to be from the true traditional baguette au levain, which disappeared sometime during the 1970s and was a completely different product. Baguette de tradition française was created according to government regulations in 1995 with the Décret Balladur (a good move, by the way, and a good product, but very different from the traditional baguette of which you may rarely find remnants in some country villages, especially in the Western regions). Modern traditional baguette is more chewy and less sour than true traditional baguette. - "Pain de campagne" is not "pain au levain". Pain de campagne defines a shape, or a set of shapes, and levain is a special type of fermented dough, that may be translated as sourdough. Now a pain de campagne may be "au levain" and "pain au levain" may be made in any possible shape (baguette au levain for instance). It is better to choose pain au levain from a boulanger who uses only that type of dough and does not have a choice of non-levain and levain breads. Laurent Bonneau on rue d'Auteuil for instance keeps his liquid levain in a large milk tank at a constant temperature, which gives him a steady supply. For traditional shapes of bread in France, the best reference book is Lionel Poilâne's Le Guide de l'amateur de pain, unfortunately out of print. He worked on another book, Le Pain, shortly before his death. The book was finished by his daughter Apollonia who takes care of the bakery now.

I do think it is still Bresse chicken served at La Butte Chaillot. At least it was back in the late 90s when Guy Savoy worked on his book La Cuisine de mes bistrots.

Indeed the most economical way of experiencing Bresse chicken is to buy and cook it yourself. The price difference will be incredible, once you know that some high-end restaurants do not hesitate to charge $ 100 or so for a roast chicken. Still Bresse chicken is never cheap, while it is much cheaper bought from a boucher or volailler. And that is precisely the problem with it. Buying a white chicken with the blue-white-red "Poulet de Bresse" label on it won't necessarily provide you with satisfactory quality. For one thing, it has strong chances of being better at a restaurant, because chefs who have a reputation for their Bresse chicken generally have impeccable sourcing and stick to it. While you never really know what you will get when you buy it raw. The Bresse label, unfortunately, does not insure constant quality, while "younger" labels like Challans, Janzé or some poulets jaunes des Landes are usually more reliable. That is why I no longer buy Bresse chicken and turned to the other mentioned labels a couple of years ago (especially after realizing what William Ledeuil did once achieve with plancha-grilled yellow Landes chicken; he could never have done such wonders with bresse). One of those chefs who don't mess with Bresse chickens is Guy Savoy. In any of his bistrots, you won't be disappointed with the roasted Bresse chicken. It is even the only truly edible dish at La Butte Chaillot, sorry to say. Very good and reasonably priced too.

Bresse chicken is a bit overrated if I can express myself so. It used to be considered the best chicken but in fact the quality fluctuates a lot. And that was before other tenderer (and IMO tastier) fowls appeared on the market, like really good yellow Landes chicken, yellow cou-nu or even Challans when you can get it fresh. Not to mention farm chickens you can buy on markets. Bresse chicken is still good, but it depends on where you get it and who produced it. It is a bit too firm and springy for my taste, especially since many chefs tend to undercook it.

No, just a crêperie (and not a destination restaurant). It's difficult enough to get in, so it's self-guarded. No need to keep it to oneself.

Try Ty Saozhon, in Roscoff. Be careful, it has rather strange opening hours. Other crêperies in the neighborhood will be good, galettes and krampouez are of high quality in Roscoff. Now that the crêpe makers at Chez Angèle in Riec-sur-Belon (29) have left the place, South Brittany has lost one of its best crêpe restaurants. Excellent crêpes (famous all over South Finistère) can still be found in Pont-Aven. I forgot the name of the place but it is a little off the center, as you go uphill to exit the city in the direction of Riec-sur-Belon, on the right-side sidewalk. Good crêpes are not that easy to come by, even in Brittany. For instance most crêperies in Brest are no good. Buckwheat crêpes should be thin and crispy (kraz), with the slightly caramelly taste buckwheat gets when fried in pure butter.

Moules-frites is a dish composed of 1) steamed mussels (prepared à la marinière or any way derived from that simple preparation) and 2) a side of frites, indeed. The simple basic recipe called moules marinière is prepared this way: scrape, sort and rinse mussels. Put them in a large Dutch oven or saucepan (either vessel should have a tight-fitting lid), adding a couple of chopped shallots or 1 sliced onion, a bit of minced garlic if you wish, a splash of white wine, freshly ground pepper and a bouquet garni of thyme, bay leaf and parsley stalks. Cover, place on high heat for about 5 minutes, shaking the pan from time to time without removing the lid. When all mussels are open, remove from fire. The resulting broth is obtained from the white wine and the rendered mussel juice. A less simple marinière may be obtained through sautéing the onions, shallots, garlic, etc., in a little butter until translucent, adding the white wine and other aromatics, then the mussels, and steaming in the same manner. Some like it this way, some the other way. This is what forms the basis of moules marinière with frites. The addition of mayonnaise or any mayo-based sauce on the side is often done in Belgium, rarely in France, except in Belgian-owned restaurants. In Belgium there are many variations of this dish. In Brussels it is called "complet bruxellois" and the marinière often contains celery leaves or chopped celery, and is often based on beer instead of white wine. The best version of moules-frites is to be found in Ostend, where it can be a complicated affair (described by Alan Davidson in his book North Atlantic Seafood) or, to the contrary, the simplest version possible, as shown on this picture from my blog, taken at the Stadt Kortrijk restaurant: As you see, the mussels are steamed with curly parsley stalks and nothing else. No shallots, no onions, no other herbs, no nothing. Best mussels on Earth though. The picture above shows an order of moules-frites at Stadt Kortrijk. The fries, served on the side, are hand-cut and wonderfully crispy and melting. Of course in other places, including French restaurants, they will often serve frozen precut fries on the side, which makes a lot of difference. Served with proper hand-cut fries, made with good mussels with proper (even if simple) seasoning, moules-frites can be a heavenly dish. In France, apart from the simple moules marinières recipe, you may get variations on the basic pattern. Here are the most frequent options: - Moules au curry (curried mussels). Not of Indian origin but part of a French tradition (early 19th century) of cooking seafood with cream sauces flavored with curry powder. This probably dates back earlier, from the days of the Compagnie des Indes Orientales (based in Lorient, where curry powder may be bought from pharmacies), but really took off in the 19th. Some curry sauces for mussels are so famous that (as i wrote above) some Breton chefs won't give away their recipes, handed through generations, to anyone. When you find several moules-frites specialties on a menu in France, there is always a "moules au curry" option. I suppose the Belgian school of mussel history will point out that moules au curry have been made in Belgium since times immemorial and I will not argue on that, for the history of mussel cookery is a complicated one anyway. - Moules à la crème. This is more a Norman than a Breton variation, given the love of Normans for their thick, naturally-fermented cream. It is no more than a basic dish of moules marinières with a ladleful of cold Norman cream added on top. Period. - Moules provençale. Here the marinière is more elaborate, mussels being steamed open in a sauce of tomatoes, onions, garlic, herbs and olive oil. White wine optional. No cream whatsoever on this. The moules provençale may become moules basquaise if a proportion of pimiento or piment d'Espelette is added. Note that the sauce has to be prepared in the pan before the raw mussels are added to be steamed open. Lazy restaurateurs will only make some moules marinière and throw a few spoonfuls of ready-made sauce tomate or sauce provençale on top. This is not a nice thing to do. - Moules au roquefort. Much nicer than it sounds. The sauce has to be prepared after the mussels are steamed. Most of the time, it is a basic cream sauce (slightly bound with flour) with crumbled roquefort added, then the whole thing is poured over the mussels.

(Léon de Bruxelles, um...) A tip: some beer pubs in Paris do serve decent moules-frites. Here's a couple of good ones: Bar Belge, 75 avenue de Saint-Ouen, 01 46 27 41 01. Académie de la Bière, 88 bis, boulevard de Port-Royal, 01.43.54.66.65. It is also a brasserie dish and may be proposed as a today's special, in that case don't miss it: it will generally be superiorly made. That applies to any large or small brasserie or corner café that serves food, sometimes they have "Moules frites" on the chalkboard or daily menu and that is rarely disappointing. Since it isn't a native Parisian dish, it is good news if they bothered to make it. Académie de la Bière has a daily mussel delivery. Not that it can compete with moules frites in Belgium (especially in Ostende) but it will be good. As far as moules-frites go, the traditional moules-frites region extends to the North of France (Pas-de-Calais and Somme). My best memories of moules-frites include one small restaurant in Lille, near the train station. In Belgium you should head for the coast (I mentioned Ostende) but there's an outstanding moules-frites restaurant in Bruges. Superior moules-frites can also be had, as I wrote above, along the coasts of Picardie, Normandy and Brittany. In the two latter cases they use small Norman or Breton moules de bouchot, which are IMO tastier than most Belgian mussels.

Moules-frites are undoubtedly Belgian in origin but the specialty seemed to trickle down from the coast of Flanders (of which both Belgium and France hold one part) and along the Channel and Atlantic coast to Normandy and Brittany, where very delicious moules-frites may also be had. According to a certain school of food historians, frites are actually Breton in origin (though I have nothing to back this idea). However it is interesting to note that some harbor and beach cafés-restaurants in Brittany hold on to their ancestral sauce recipe for moules-frites maison that they won't give anybody. So it is a tradition there too.

It can be quite busy at lunchtime, especially on weekends, and at dinnertime too, which is why I'm not insisting too much on its exact location It will serve food at just about any hour, even during the afternoon (taking the likeness to a true Asian restaurant even closer), but note that it closes early — at 10 PM they're all packed and at 9:30 PM they give you the usual subtle hints that they're not particularly trying to kick you out, but…

It is not close to Place d'Italie. I don't remember the name of the shopping mall but it is more in the Olympiades area. All I can say is you find the Chinatown Olympiades, walk for a minute, turn left, turn right, and it is the last restaurant. The Kim Lien restaurant on place Maubert is good and serves very nice bo bun, but it is quite overpriced.

Even the apparently "fusion" restaurants may not be as bad as they seem, for there are two categories of them. There is a universe of difference between the neighborhood "restaurant chinois vietnamien thaïlandais" — which is rarely any better than the equally disappointing "traiteur chinois" that has replaced each and every charcutier in Paris — and, for instance, a large popular restaurant like Tricotin (avenue de Choisy) which is owned by a Cambodian family and serves a collection of dishes that do reflect the "koinè" aspect of Southeast Asian cuisines, strongly influenced by various migrant styles, and especially by the many styles of Chinese diasporas. When Tricotin serves Cambodian, Thai, Vietnamese dishes as well as some of the best dim sum in Paris, it just does its job as a large Cambodian-owned eatery and reflects the many cuisines that can be experienced in a Southeast Asian country. And Chinese-style cuisine is also a tradition in Viêt-nam, so Vietnamese restaurant owners are not necessarily "inauthentic" when they serve Chinese dishes. The important matter is not what they do, but whether they do it well. Some Thai restaurants also serve Lao dishes because both countries are so close and Northeastern Thai food (Isaan) is almost identical to Lao food. Some Lao restaurants also "do" Thai because they do it well. The style of cuisine that is best done by "pure" Vietnamese restaurants is the simple fare of noodle soups and grilled meats that you find at places like Pho 14 and Bida Saigon. Please note that those restaurants generally have a very limited menu, which means that they choose to focus on a definite style.

All the restaurants that have been mentioned in this thread serve only Vietnamese food. They are not of the "mixed" kind that John is referring to. Their only downside is that you have to be introduced to them somehow, most of them are well-kept secrets. According to some native Vietnamese sources, the best of them is Pho Bida Saigon, described as being the closest to what can be found back home.

Not everything that shines is gold, in the 13th you'll see "pho" written everywhere but only a few places will give you satisfactory quality. They are generally known in the neighborhood. It is not easy to make good pho. I'll second Felice on Pho 14 and Song Huong. Pho 14 has (IMO) the best reputation of all but my favorite remains Pho Bida Saigon, in the shopping mall (difficult to find and also difficult to explain precisely where it is), which also has the best banh cuon in Paris. Other places: Le Bambou on rue Baudricourt, excellent pho. Always packed. Xinh Xinh, rue des Wallons, 13e, off the Chinatown center (it is actually close to the Pitié-Salpêtrière hospital). This is a rather different type of pho, more "high end", with very clear broth, a clean taste and few additions. A similar kind of pho may be had at Kim Anh, avenue Emile-Zola (15e).

Do not forget the Caves Estève, rue de Longchamp, a few steps up from place d'Iéna. Cured meats, canned Spanish tuna and sardines, salads, sandwiches, light dishes and lovely wines selected by Jérôme Moreau, Le Bristol's talented sommelier. Other location on rue de la Cerisaie, off the boulevard Henri-IV, between the Seine and place de la Bastille.

"Vers cru" is not French, they probably understand because there is the word "cru" and they know what it means. To ask for something very rare you say "très bleu" or "presque cru". I forgot to add that but I didn't believe I needed to do that here

A bit more information on marbled/unmarbled beef in France. Some breeds are naturally more prone to marbling but the degree of fat infiltration depends mostly on the breeding and feeding conditions. In France the best marbled meat generally comes from regional breeds like Norman cattle, as well as Limousin, Bazadais, or Salers. Salers is nicely marbled but before it became fashionable and was bred in every region, it had better taste than it now has. Charolais is typically unmarbled "French style", with solid red meat without any infiltrated fat. It is meat that can actually be cooked very rare and is good for eating raw (it is good for steak tartare and carpaccio). However it cannot be aged the way marbled beef can. There seems to be a recent trend towards producing marbled charolais; I just bought a thick, beautiful, very marbled chunk of entrecôte at the Président-Wilson market, and I asked what the breed was. The butcher told me it was charolais. So, the meat situation in France is not a fixed one.

Hosts note: I have moved this post from another thread that had spun off to discuss beef cooking temperatures in France Moderators feel free to cut-and-paste this into any appropriate thread, but I think it's time to establish a chart of steak measurements in France: You want it: rare You ask for: bleu You want it: medium rare You ask for: saignant You want it: just done You ask for: à point You want it: well-done You ask for: bien cuit, or semelle (literally "shoe sole"). Now bear in mind that "rare" in French is understood as raw, sometimes still tepid at heart. The degrees of doneness are a bit lower than in the US (because the meat is much less marbled and does not need the extra time for the fat to melt into the flesh). "Rare" in France is rarer than you'd get in the US, "medium rare" ("saignant") is considered the ideal point and the one that's asked the most frequently, "just done" ("à point") is somewhat considered for sissies (Americans don't count since everybody knows they like their meat well-done), and "bien cuit" is hardly ever heard.

Though there are discussions in Paris about what is a bistrot, what it is not, what it should be, what it used to be, etc., everyone more or less agrees on what a brasserie is (Felice's description sums it up quite well). The only slight confusion might arise from the question whether a large, bustling café is or not a brasserie. Many large cafés that are not repertoried as classical brasseries the way La Lorraine or Bofinger are do advertise themselves as "brasseries" and as long as they serve beer and some plats du jour they are entitled to the name. On the other hand any such café is sometimes called "un bistrot". I think it is rather useless to figure that out since the terminology is blurry even for Parisians. The term "troquet" is more precise and means any street café. I have to add that there are large bistrots (many less now than there used to be) and small brasseries, though that is not the general rule. Size does not necessarily define the place, style and origin rather do. Bistrots and brasseries do overlap though, only because they are pretty much on the same historical and sociological level of popular catering. The origin of the word "bistrot" is a bit hazy but at least the so-called Russian origin ("bistro" meaning "quick") has long been discarded as pure fantasy. The word appeared in the late 1880s, much later than the Russian episode. The most likely origin is the Southern French "bistrot" and "bistroquet", respectively meaning the owner of a bar and his assistant, which would make sense given the fact that the origin of the bistrot is Southern (Auvergne and Rouergue), and the term, in a manner typical of French colloquial language, slipped from the owner ("chez le bistrot") to the place itself ("au bistrot").

I agree, and I also think that some visitors to France focus excessively on "high end dining" (some do not even know what a bistrot is, yes I've met them), and it should be reminded to them that this kind of approach does not give a truer image of French eating than if they spent all their time in France visiting supermarket cafeterias. Some things go without saying but are better off repeated sometimes.

I'd say live anywhere in Paris except in the 16e, 7e (except the Saint-Dominique area), and 17e West of the railroad tracks/Batignolles gap. Anywhere else is fine. Personally I've always found the 15e boring but it might be fun to rent an apartment on the Front de Seine.

Hello, I can't speak about the non-French meanings of Brasserie and Bistro. I can only explain those words in the French context. I think I have already stated those principles elsewhere; chances are it was in the France forum, so I'll leave Phyllis or John insert a link to that, which I can't locate right now. First of all the fact that most brasseries in Paris are gathered under the ownership of a few large groups is a recent phenomenon and has nothing to do with the origin of brasseries, who were all independently owned at first. The groups are Flo/Bucher (Alsatian family), the Blanc brothers, and Costes (Rouergue/Massif central family), and probably one or two more. Second, to sum up the situation (details will be given if asked, this is really a rough summary): - BISTROT: Parisian phenomenon (which had equivalents in other cities, for instance the Lyon bouchon). Appeared early 20th century. Cultural origin: Massif central (Auvergne, Rouergue, Vivarais). Sociological origin: the "exode rural", a consequence of urbanization and the industrial revolution which emptied the countryside and led much of the French rural population to Paris and the large towns to find their luck. Now according to your region of origin you might work in different fields of activity, i.e. Savoyards would often become chimney-sweepers, Breton women would become cleaning women or nannies, sometimes prostitutes; Auvergnats would often start small businesses of "vins, bois et charbons" (wines, firewood and coal), or bougnats, where wine would be also served as well as simple, country-style food. The main characteristics of the Paris bistrot were already defined by the bougnat. Some old bistrots bear the traces of that, see the Café Charbon in rue Oberkampf to see what a large bougnat used to look like, or a smaller place like Chardenoux in rue Jules-Vallès, or the Bistrot Paul-Bert, etc. It has to be mentioned that until recently most corner cafés in Paris were run by families of Rouergue or Auvergne origin (more Rouergue and Aveyron than Auvergne). The Costes are one of the families who succeeded the most. Now the Paris bistrot has a rather complex origin since it also derives from another type of working-class restaurant, the bouillon or crèmerie, where simple food was also served for workers and locals. The combination of the bougnat (rural, Auvergne-Rouergue cuisine — coq au vin, petit salé aux lentilles, cassoulet, haricot de mouton, etc.) and the bouillon-crèmerie and other cheap restaurants (Parisian cuisine bourgeoise) produced the culinary répertoire of the bistrot. - BRASSERIE: Parisian phenomenon (but existed also in other cities). Appeared late 19th century. Cultural origin: Alsace and Lorraine. Sociological origin: the "exode rural", same as above. Unlike bougnats and bistrots, the brasseries were since their origin large, brightly-lit places, where Alsatian-Lorraine food and beer were served. Often located in busy places, on large squares and at important street corners, brasseries also had a festive dimension since their origin. Hence the choucroute and pression, pied de cochon, but also oysters, as well as other "brasserie" dishes which also have their origin in French cuisine bourgeoise. Now the similarities between bistrot and brasserie cooking — sticking to the original répertoire of each one — are simply due to the fact that these always were French urban restaurants, appeared roughly at the same period, based on regional origins and catering to a popular clientele. Hence the strong presence of French cuisine bourgeoise and I should say working-class cuisine bourgeoise (there used to be a time when cuisine bourgeoise was a common heritage, even for the lower classes), beside the more regional dishes proposed by each formula. The visual similarities between traditional bistrots and brasseries (mirrors, brass, Moleskine seats, sometimes floor mosaics and painted glass, zinc-covered bar counters, etc.) are only caused by their common historical origin, since they appeared during the same period and bear the mark of that period. As for the prices, well it is generally understood that a bistrot should serve cheap food and brasserie slightly more expensive food, but that is not absolutely true. The disappearance of the true Paris bistrots (during the 1970s) made way to all sorts of pricing but the tradition somewhat remained. However, bistrots like Benoît were always expensive, and there were other examples. It is not considered that a bistrot should necessarily be cheap. The era of the Euro has put a brutal end to any sort of gentle pricing anyway.

Hi Robyn, If you do smoke, it will definitely be in the street, on the sidewalk, or on the café terrace if it's completely open. Sidewalks have become rather hazardous places in Paris since the smoking ban. At first I did acknowkledge the employees having their "pause clope" downstairs from offices but soon I realized the problem was a bit more serious — especially in busy areas with narrow sidewalks, it has become distinctly trickier to walk through the cigarette-sucking crowd, gathered outside of cafés, restaurants and even shops. Not a large crowd, mind you, but definitely large enough to slow down most walks. The fact is that you no longer see a lighted cigarette in any café or restaurant or anywhere within walls or bay windows. I also do not hear much complaining about it. People seem to be rediscovering those spaces with a relatively breathable air and relatively transparent atmosphere and they realize they like that. As a result there's more smoking outside, in the streets, on terraces, but since (I think) many people have taken the opportunity of the ban to quit smoking, you don't usually get smoked like a ham once you sit at a café terrace. But it's perfectly OK to smoke there.