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Sunday Dining in Paris

Couscous

Here’s a list of some restaurants in Paris that are open on Sunday. Note that some are quite basic while others may fall into the slightly touristy category. Nevertheless, I still think they’re worthy of a visit. All but the most basic restaurants prefer that diners make reservations.

Another Sunday dining option is to visit one of the outdoor markets and make up a picnic. Markets open on Sunday morning (9am-2pm) include Richard Lenoir (M: Bastille), Aligre (M: Ledru-Rollin), Raspail (M: Sèvres-Babylon), and Place Monge (M: Place Monge).

Astier
44, rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud (11th)
Tél: 01 43 57 16 35

Breizh Café
109, rue Vieille du Temple (3rd)
01 42 72 13 77

Excellent buckwheat crêpes served in a casual, yet sparse setting. Especially busy at prime lunch hours.

Café des Musées
49, rue de Turenne (3rd)
01 43 72 96 17

Excellent French food, especially the house-made terrine and steak-frites with bernaise sauce. Desserts always good, and wine by the carafe make everything go down better.

Chez Paul
13, rue de Charonne (11th)
01 47 00 34 57

This traditional French bistro flies under the radar of many but is a great choice for Sunday lunch, especially after a visit to the nearby Richard Lenoir market. Hearty fare.

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G. Detou in Paris

If G. Detou didn’t exist, I couldn’t live in Paris.

G. Detou

Seriously. The overstocked, but impeccably neat shelves at G. Detou do indeed have everything, as the name implies in French (J. Detou is a play-on-words, meaning “I have everything”.) But when you’re someone like me that does an inordinate amount of baking, plus loves…and I mean loves…to discover new and unusual foods and chocolates, a place like G. Detou is truly pastry paradise.

Chocolate

This little shop near Les Halles is stocked, literally, floor-to-ceiling with everything a cook or baker could want. There’s chocolates from across France, including a huge (and I mean huge) selection of bars including Michel Cluizel, Valrhona, Voisin, Weiss, Bonnat, Cacao Barry—the best of l’hexagone.

But even better are the big tablets and sacks that range from 3 to 5 kilos, that hard-cores bakers like me depend on. Although I’m not the only avid chocolate baker in town: When I was in last week, a tiny, meek little old lady came by and left hefting a 3-kilo sack of white chocolate, and a man in a hurry, who didn’t remove the cell phone from his ear while he rattled off his order to the red-coated salesclerk, left with five enormous sacks of chocolate, as well as assorted other goodies.

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Salonenque Olives

Olives

Flavored with crushed branches of fennel, these avocado-green olives are harvested very early and only available for an extremely short time. I’ve been anticipating them ever since Jacques, my favorite olive merchant, started getting excited when he told me about their arrival a few weeks back. So I knew they’d be special.

(If someone who’s been selling olives for twenty-plus years is still excited about a specific olive, believe me, I pay attention.)

Les olives Salonenques are very fresh with a firm, meaty texture and a whiff of aromatic fennel. But these Provencal olives don’t last long, which is why you won’t likely find them outside of France. Jacques will ladle some into a sack, weight them, then add extra liquid to guard against them discoloring, which they do quickly because of their freshness.

You’ll need to eat them relatively soon after you buy them. So get ‘em while you can.

And since I can get ‘em, believe me, I’m eating as many as I can before they’re gone.

Le Soleil Provencal
Richard Lenoir/Bastille Market
Thursday and Sunday
Jacques’ stand is at the center, on the east side, near Le Préau café

(He’s often at the Maubert-Mutualité market in Paris as well.)

10 Insanely Delicious Things You Shouldn’t Miss in Paris

Pain aux ceriales
How about a pain aux cereales?

Here’s my list of Ten Great Things To Eat in Paris, things I think you shouldn’t miss!

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Tuesdays With Dorie

First I came up with the title for this post, since I thought it would be a fun jeu de mots. But then I realized I had to figure out what the heck I was going write about. So I put on my long-neglected thinking cap, scrolled through the email addresses of my last few remaining friends, and scanned my agenda, desperately searching for inspiration.
Then it hit me.

And then I thought, “Hey, what don’t I give Dorie Greenspan a call?”

Dorie Greenspan

Thankfully Madame Greenspan agreed to go along on this ruse with me so I could get this post up and running. But there was also the promise of something buttery and sweet, rubber-clad fish boys, just-roasted coffee, prowling through my favorite Arab épicerie with floor-to-ceiling dried fruits and nuts, and finishing it up with verrines at a trendy restaurant. How could she refuse?

And refuse she did not.
So off we went.

Our first stop last Tuesday was blé sucré, en route to the Marche d’Aligre.

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Cantal

It’s pretty overwhelming visiting a fromagerie.

After years of trying as many French cheeses as I could, I’ve settled on a few favorites that I go back to over and over, which include moist, piquant Roquefort de Carles, which I like drizzled with chestnut honey, little rounds of tangy chèvre and ash-covered Selles-sur-Cher, and nutty Comté from the French alps, which if you taste one that’s been aged 30 months, I assure you you’ll never buy any other affinage (ripeness) of Comté.

When people ask me which cheese to buy, though, I turn the tables on them, asking them what kind of cheese they like. Do they like dry, sharp, nutty, or powerful cheeses? Thankfully because there’s so many choices out there, there’s no right or wrong answers. Only what you like. Unfortunately, I pretty much like them all.

Ok, scratch pretty much…and let’s just say I like..er..love them all.

cantalblog.jpg

But I rarely visit a fromagerie with a laundry list of cheeses I want to buy.

Instead, while waiting every-so-patiently in line, I crane my neck around madame in front of me and use that time to see what looks the best that day. Often the fromager will leave the most popular cheeses, like brie de Meaux, within easy reach of her since invariably just about everyone wants a wedge of that. Especially if it’s so oozingly-ripe and pungent that just lifting the big, gooey wheel is virtually impossible. Camembert du Normandie is another cheese that’s popular, but I’m always sure to get one that’s not industrial, since the artisanal and AOC ones are invariably more delicious.

(I don’t understand why anyone buys the crummy ones when the excellent ones are so easily-available. But I guess the same holds true in the states: people choose American-singles over the decent cheddar that’s widely available. Tant pis, as they say…)

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French Hot Chocolate With Salted Butter Caramel

My ultra-special mix for Hot Chocolate with Salted Butter Caramel is now available at several outdoor markets in Paris, and we hope to make it available to our friends in the US and elsewhere.

hotchocolatemix.jpg

One kit makes 6 warming cups of the most luscious hot chocolate you’ll ever have since it’s infused with smooth, buttery salted caramel (made with Breton butter), bittersweet French chocolate, and a soupçon of hand-harvested fleur de sel. It’s equally delicious made with whole or low-fat milk.
I love it, and I hope you will too!

UPDATE: This is no longer available.

You can find French- and Belgian style Hot chocolate recipes on my Recipes page. There’s a recipe for Salted Butter Caramel Sauce in my book The Sweet Life in Paris, if you’d like to make your own!

Browsing in Paris

Yesterday, I decided that since I was the last person in the world to be using Safari as a web browser, I should switch to Firefox. Everyone says it’s better and since I use Movable Type for the blog, Firefox has little buttons to make things bold or to italicize, so I don’t need to type in a bazillion symbols everytime I do that.

stiltonbread.jpg

About twenty years ago, which I hope means the statutes of limitations has run out, when working in that vegetarian restaurant I mentioned, someone brought in something for us to, er…well…let’s just say, it was something that was designed to change your perception of reality if you took it.
So of course, we did.

When you work in a restaurant, you develop a rhythm, especially when it comes to setting up your statio in preparation for the rush of customers. If you have a fixed menu and you’ve been working in the same place for a while, when you arrive, you can almost work on auto-pilot to make sure everything’s in place (called mis-en-place), so when the rush comes, you’re full-organized and never get buried under orders (or as they say, ‘in the weeds’). If you’ve done it right, the evening runs like a finely-tuned Swiss watch. If not, you’ve got no business in a restaurant kitchen.
And your night will be a catastrophe (not to mention the customer’s as well).

So one evening, someone brought in something which we ingested that was terribly strong and radically alerted our ‘perception of reality’ (yes, even vegetarians have their vices). As we started our work, though, the owner arrived and surprised us with a brand-new menu, full of items we’d never seen before. So we had to completely change our set-ups and prepare all new dishes.
It was a massive bummer, to put it mildly.

It’s like your computer crashing, taking everything with it, and you need to re set-up everything again. To make a long (long) story short, once the customers arrived, it was like your worst dream coming true, the kind where you’re running towards something, but the faster you run, the farther away it gets. So as the order tickets started coming in, we all panicked and found ourselves seriously in the weeds (in more ways than one), and the evening was a catastrophe.

When I installed my new browser yesterday, everything changed on my little Mac.

My beloved bookmarks, which I’ve spent years collecting, I cherished as your grandmother cherishes her Hümmel figurines, were gone. And the look of my blog platform changed: Yes there were those terrific little buttons that add links, italics, and what-not, but each time I used one, it jumped up to the top of the document, meaning I had to re-scroll back to where I was typing, prompting a mad dash to find where I left off. So like coming down from a bad high, back to my familiar reality, I’ve returned to Safari.

I guess old habits die hard. Like my love for rustically grainy breads, and had a chance to return to one of my favorite bakeries in Paris yesterday when I had a doctor’s appointment on the other side of the city.

Continue Reading Browsing in Paris…