I recently returned from a short stay in Paris. The thing I like most about Paris is its consistency- there are some things that will just never change. The beautiful old structures will always remain, Parisians will always smoke like chimneys (despite the indoor smoking ban!), and the food will be just as good as it always has been. While this was not my first trip to Paris, it was my first expedition since I’d entered my trade as a chef, and for that reason alone was definitely the most memorable. When I was in London (another part of my stay, and another story!), I mentioned the food to someone, and how great it was. She answered by saying “I know! They serve everything with wine and cheese! Yummy!” This pretty well sums it up. Yummy.
Bread
The memory of the food that stands out the most in my mind is the total lack of pretension in each and every dish that I tried. Here in North America, we often associate French food with over-complicated, perfectly plated dishes. I did not find this to be the case at all when faced with the authentic stuff. Parisians don’t need to complicate their food, nor do they much care to form their food in molds or create any sort of structure to their plates. They don’t need to. The food speaks for itself- the quality of the ingredients, the use of ingredients to create a perfect combination of flavour and texture, is all they need to create a good dish. At that point, it is basically just placed on a plate in a very rustic style and served (and enjoyed greatly!).
This first struck me when I was at a little place by the Eiffel Tower. I had promised myself I wouldn’t eat in a touristy neighbourhood where prices were jacked up to meet demand, but found myself rained out and decided to wait out the rain by enjoying a light dinner. I ordered the salmon tartare, expecting it to come out in a perfectly circular molded shape, sided with perfectly sliced bits of baguette crostini, as it does here. I was surprised to find a heaping mound of tartare on top of a pile of greens with four triangles of toast. Despite its appearance, which actually sounds more pedestrian than it was, it was absolutely fantastic. The brioche it came with was buttery and nicely toasted, and obviously made in-house. The tartare itself was one of the best I’d ever tasted- the fresh herbs and good Dijon made all the difference. Although the pieces of salmon were slightly bigger than I would have done, the whole dish had a really rustic quality that begged appreciation.
For dessert, I had profiteroles. I’m used to profiteroles and thought I knew exactly what to expect with these ones, but I was wrong. A massive plate filled with elegant balls of choux paste were served under mounds of whipped cream and chocolate sauce. While I had been expecting a pastry cream to explode from the center, these were actually full of a frozen vanilla cream filling, similar to ice cream. It was a welcome surprise, and went well with the warm chocolate and quickly melting whipped cream.
Heirloom tomatoes
The produce in France was what I enjoyed the most. Everything is fresh, everything is flavourful. The Europeans are much stricter when it comes to GMO’s than we are in Canada, so food is more expensive but also fresher, cleaner, and better tasting. Every tomato looks like it is an heirloom. The greens, which are served with every meal including breakfast, are light and fresh. I ate a lot of salads while I was there, just because they are so much better than the average salad here.
At a small bakery on Rue Voltaire, a short walk from my apartment, I had a selection of pastries, chocolates, quiches, tortes and ridiculously delicious salads to go. My favourite was a salad called the Salade Voltaire, which consisted of greens, rice, julienned ham, fresh tomatoes, and a cold poached egg. It was the best to-go salad I’ve ever had in my life. I paired that with a Torte Parisienne (it’s like a dense quiche), which had potato, roasted tomato, mushrooms and gruyere cheese. The savoury short crust was flaky, buttery, and stood up to the dense ingredients. At another café in the shopping district, I had another amazing salad. This one consisted of greens, potatoes, hard boiled eggs, cured pork, two types of vinaigrettes (a creamy herb vinaigrette and a drizzle of balsamic) and two slices of toast topped with bruleed goat cheese. It was phenomenal, and filling!
Cheese
While in Paris I also met a master cheesemaker with a shop, who makes all his own beautiful artisan cheeses. I also stopped in to Laduree, the famous macaron shop, and sampled some of their product. The macarons are good, but tasted very similar to the ones I had from my bakery on Rue Voltaire (which, at 1 euro each, were half the price!). What really set Laduree apart from anywhere else was the presentation. The décor is as French as it ever could be, impeccably designed and exquisite in its perfection. Perfect rows of colourful macarons deck the displays, while vintage French mirrors and striped wall paper set the tone of the walls. Even the packaging is perfect, Laduree tissue is placed into a small, perfect Laduree bag, printed with gold- you would think you’d just bought something cute from La Perla!
Quick food was easy to find, so snacking was to be expected. A banana-chocolate crepe was made on the street outside of a creperie, and folded into a convenient little package to eat on the go. At an outdoor fruit and vegetable market, stands filled with heirloom tomatoes, cabbage, gourds and greens were readily available, wedged between stands selling cured meats and organic French wines. Wine is one of the cheapest and most convenient things you can buy in France, and I picked up a beautiful rose (2011 Cinsault Rose from Reserve Saint Marc in the South of France) for 4 euros and a nice bordeaux (Chateau du Mass 2009) which came in a bit more pricey at 12 euros. I also grabbed a bottle of Moet, for 38 euros.
My little bakery on Rue Voltaire, which I keep coming back to because it just had so many amazing things, offered a wide assortment of chocolates, pastries, and typically French goodies. The French are currently going through a slight love affair with hamburgers (which was actually offered to us as breakfast by a waiter at a local café- we went with the omelettes instead!), which was apparent in the little hamburger-shaped marshmallow treats the shop offered. The pricey little truffles I picked up, which were well worth the 16 euros spent, were soft and dense and coated with hazelnuts.
My best advice for anyone eating their way through Paris is to throw away any concerns regarding fat content, carbs or calories. French food is meant to be enjoyed. It is painstakingly prepared, and perfectly portioned. It is also meant to be savoured and appreciated, not to be rushed through and forgotten as most North American meals tend to be.
