La Cambuse

[stellabella]

The young man at the desk at our hotel was not very nice to us on our first night.  But the next night we told him the Belgian restuarant he directed us to on the Blvd St Germain had looked a bit too touristy, and we had kept walking til we found a little creperie.  I think it was the French equivalent of IHOP, but, excuse me, the chestnut cream and chocolate crepe is not on the menu here in the States!

So the next night, after we told him we'd had le gouter at Laduree, he warmed up a bit and sent us across the street [Rue de Casimir Delavigne] to La Cambuse.  It felt like someone's living room, with playbills, posters and postcards stuck to the walls, and rooster figurines crammed into every nook.  Our server, also the owner I think, was delightful.  The place was very small, and only a few tables occupied.  My sister had souppe l'ogniene gratin, and I had the terrine sur table.  The owner brough the entire terrine to my table, with a crock of gherkins, and let me eat what I wanted of it--at which point she removed it and brought our plats: faux fillet and confit de canard au gratin.   My duck melted from the bone--the meat was rich and moist and not the least greasy.  My au gratin potatoes--better than mom's, and another example of how the same foods, ie a POTATO--simply taste better in countries who think Monsanto is Antichrist.  Shannon's frites were sliced flat rather than julienne, and even as they cooled they maintained their crispness--I thought I'd had the world's best frites in Belgium--La Cambuse may have outdone the Belgians.  We had a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhones along with.

After, digestives and creme brulee for my sister, fromage for me.  Again, a platter of cheeses brought to me to enjoy as long as I wished.  I found myself taking tiny little nibbles, savoring the goat cheeses especially.

I know little about French cuisine.  I had never been to France before.  My gastro-world has expanded.

As soon as I got home I insisted to my husband that we go back to Paris this summer.  Then, the countryside.  But first, baby steps.....

[Bux]

Having to share Paris with yet one more fan is offset by a thougtful post sharing an experience with me. Thank you. Ladauree and all the other justly famous spots are not to be missed, but they are "in" Paris as opposed to the little places one discovers. These "are" Paris and far more responsible for terminal addiction. I heartily recommend maintenance doses of France rather than cold turkey.

Was Leon de Bruxelles the restaurant recommended by man at the hotel desk? If so he was not a nice man at all. Than again if you return frequently, you will begin to understand why some people become very protective of the "real" restaurants.

[stellabella]

Leon--perhaps.  It was ON the Blvd St. Germaine, just a couple blocks north [northwest?] of Odeon.  As we looked in the windows we were crestfallen.  It was very brightly lit, brass-y and fern-y.  AND the food people were eating looked horrible.  

Most of my friends and acquaintances don't "get" me.  One asked last night, So, what had you wanted to see in Paris?  I replied, So, you mean, what had I wanted to EAT?  I find I live by the words of my matron saint, MFKFISHER--it's not just what one eats, but where, when, with whom, and in what frame of mind.  I know better than to take a meal in a scary-looking place, esp in Paris.

The city itself is richly beautiful--almost overwhelmingly so--and I know I need to return in order to savor it more slowly--the same way I savored my meals.  I loved the way EACH bite demanded my full attention.  Why do I so rarely enjoy dining here in the States in the same way?

[Bux]

Leon de Bruxelles is a chain of inexpensive places known for their mussels. I think they are popular with locals as well as tourists happy enough to eat formula food. I have a Belgian friend who rails against them because he feels they give Belgian food and mussels a bad name in addition to lowering the level of food in Paris. I have never been in one, nor in the Bistrot Romain chain of Italian food. I suppose they are no worse and probably better than Friendly's, Bennigan's and Applebee's in the U.S. They are, at any rate, not why we go to France.

I've had any number of conversations with people who just want an inexpensive place to eat decent food. They are in Europe to see the art, the architecture or whatever. My sister, who has long thought I was obsessive about food, traveled with us in Italy. She would show up at breakfast with her guide book and plan the day's sightseeing, expecting me to find a good place for lunch nearby. I would come down with my restaurant guides and decide where we should have lunch and let her find something to see in the neighborhood. I would tell her, this is Florence there are treasures around every corner, but we have to pick our restaurants carefully or the day will be ruined. She also found it odd that our driving days on the road were either long or short depending on where we stopped for the night based on restaurants rather than sights or distances.

[stellabella]

My husband and I visited his best friend in Belgium for a week while said friend was visiting as a Fulbright.  We went to Dinant one afternoon and when it was time to eat, they both started into the first restaurant we passed.  I kept walking and spent the next hour looking at every place in town.  They were ready to throw me into the river.  I was outnumbered.  We ended up eating omelettes in a tavern.  But they were French omelettes, thank goodness.  I decided I had to try to savor the entire experience, and Dinant was so outrageouly strange to me that I decided our lunch fit the experience perfectly.

EVERY time my husband and I are in Europe we always end up eating from a falaffel stand at midnight--just once--and I now try to feel a little romantic about it, at least, since I can't feel HAPPY, or GUSTATORILY SATISFIED.  C'est la vie.

[Margaret Pilgrim]

Falaffel at midnight, or one of its corollaries, happens to everyone at one time or another.  Ours was in Edinburgh on a bitterly cold January night, when in spite of having done lots of homework, everything fell apart.  1) I hadn't reserved for dinner; 2) I didn't bring my entire list of options when we left the hotel; 3) I failed to realize that there was a local economic downturn that had forced most of my "hot little rising chef" restaurants to close.  So we crossed and recrossed Edinburgh in a freezing wind while I kept trying to pull rabbits out of my hat, wracking my brain to remember names from my researched-but-left-at-home list. Fully 2 hours after we started out, we wound up "eating Italian" just before they closed the kitchen. The crowning blow came the next day when, 300 miles away, I realized I had left my favorite scarf with the Italians. Since then, unless we know that we have decent options, we reserve at dinner. Husband's orders. (No, it's not romantic, but it's a heck of a lot more romantic than he is after I pull something like Edinburgh!)

[Bux]

"Falaffel at midnight"

... if you're lucky. Don't even remind me. There's at least one on every trip but if I'm really lucky it's only a lunch. The flip side is that if you reserve every meal, you're going to miss those last minute serendipitous finds.

[David Bizer]

While everyone is talking about suffering with Falafel...let me suggest something I think is a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.  L'As du Falafel on rue de Rosiers in the Marais serves up what's probably some of the most famous and tasty Falafel outside the Middle East.  You will see about a dozen other places in the area to get Falafel, but you will notice none of them has a crowd waiting outside.  If you don't feel like waiting and having the waiter take your order, while you are standing outside, just order to go.  Order the "speciale" if you want hummus and eggplant, and make sure to tell the guy "piquante" at the window if you like it hot.

Then grab a fork, and walk around the corner to a little courtyard where you can peacefully munch your falafel.  After that, explore the Jewish neighborhood, with it's delectable bakeries, selling all sorts of little treats, and some of the only half-way decent bagels in Paris.  Then, head over to rue Francs - Bourgeois (i think that's it) where the shops are actually open on Sunday, and the mood is quite festive.  Finish it off with a stroll around the Place de Vosges, visiting some art galleries, or if you are lucky, relaxing in the park on a beautiful sunny day.

I realize most people on this board are collecting data for their trips to Paris and don't care for much outside authentic French, but for the few who might live here, or yearn for something a bit different, it's a great choice.  Besides, can you really eat French every day, twice a day for a week?  Well, I guess if you don't live here, you have to take as much as you can!

So, is Falafel all that bad after all?   :D

Enjoy!