It's no secret that some of the best food in Paris is served at wine bars. Usually small places with bottles of wine lined up at the bar, the food tends to be simple and hearty. And reasonably priced.
I'd walked by Le Verre Volé (The Stolen Glass) many times during the past few years but I finally got around to calling to reserve a spot. It's located just next to the Canal St. Martin, a newly-trendy quarter of Paris, but still a favorite place to stroll on a warm summer evening. I've had many picnics accompanied by many cool glasses of pink rosé sitting by the canal with friends to combat the heat of summer and watching others do the same.
It's imperative to make a reservation in advance, since there are only perhaps seats for 18 people and you sit shoulder-to-shoulder. But unlike New York or San Francisco or Los Angeles, you could call that afternoon and likely get a spot. During dinner I told my dining companion that if this was in New York, there would be a line out the door and around the corner.
I began the complex task of choosing from one of the wines from the shelves. Each has it's price written across the neck of the bottle since Le Verre Volé doubles as a retail establishment. To down it there, they add a modest 7 €. I scanned the shelves and chose a red Mazel from the Ardeches (18 €) that was very light and fruity. A bit 'fresh' when first opened, once it sat, it gained complexity I was happy that it was the perfect choice for the warm evening and hearty food. During the evening, practically every three minutes, someone would roar up on their scooter, disembark, and rush in to buy a bottle of wine for dinner. The two men who worked there gave much advice, and I even chimed it at one point with my opinion. How French! There's always lots of excitement when selecting wines in France (or bread, or cheese, or....). It's such a big event and it's always with careful consideration.
My dinner was excellent.
We shared a jellied terrine of oxtails (5 €). The finely shredded meat was gently molded with some spring asparagus and peas, all barely held together with jellied beef stock that was light. It was served with pickled, vinegary capers on their stems and dressed salad greens.
All the main courses were meaty: blood sausage with roasted apples and potatoes, andouillettes de Troyes, and veal Marengo. Not being much of a fan of 'variety meats' (as they're politely called in America), I chose the caillettes ardechoise (10 €), a patty of well-seasoned pork ground-up with tasty and still-chewy beet greens and spinach. It was roasted until searingly-crisp on the outside, and when I split it open, a moist cloud of steam erupted revealing fork-tender meat within.
The genial two young men who ran the place managed to keep the small crowd happy. One took orders and opened wine, while the other stood behind the tiny bar and dished up salads and roasted meats and sausages in the small ovens. Behind the bar is a glass door leading to an air-conditioned room, a jumble of boxes and bottles of wine.
If you happen to find yourself in Paris on June 21, from 6pm to 1:30 am Le Verre Volé is having their second annual Herring Festival, which happily spills out onto the streets. For 15 €, it's music, a bottle of wine, and all the fresh herring you can swallow.
I'll see you there.
Le Verre Volé
67, rue de Lancry
tel: 01 48 03 17 34
M: Jacques Bonsergent
