Food & Drink

With fall comes the desire for hearty dishes, homey flavors, and the comfort of terroir and tradition. But some encounters with tradition are not always as reassuring as one might expect.

It was Queen Marie Thérèse, wife of Louis XIV, who made chocolat chaud—the new beverage of the 17th century—fashionable. She was passionate about this thick, dark nectar that had been introduced to France from her native Spain after being brought back from the New World. The new concoction—chocolate then was consumed only in its drinkable form—confused the court and church officials of the era. They couldn’t make up their minds: Was it a food? A medicine? An aphrodisiac?

Today, these questions remain unanswered. One way to tackle the issue is to try it for yourself in its many forms. Easter is an auspicious time for this: Paris’s exceptional chocolatiers (chocolate craftsmen) compete to satisfy our sweet (or bitter- or semi-) tooth.

This is the chief branch of this Asian supermarket with several branches around the 13th arrondissement and Belleville, including Tang Gourmet. Slip inside and breathe in the sweet and spicy smells. The fruit and veg section is a wonderland of curious delights—tiny kumquats, juicy sharon fruit squatting like big ripe tomatoes, blocks of coconut meat and hot pink dragon fruit sprouting thick green leaves. Investigate the butcher’s and fishmonger’s, or stock up on unusual teas. Ten thousand clients pass through this mega store daily—it ’s a neighborhood institution.
48, avenue d’Ivry, Paris 13. Mº Porte d’Ivry. 01 45 83 47 97.

Having a friend who’s a great cook is a blessing and a curse. It’s exciting to get invited to what they say is an informal little dinner, you know, nothing fancy. But the table is gorgeous, the smells coming from their stove enticing, and the dinner is, of course, dazzling from start to finish.

But the cook who invited you is also a friend and you eventually have to return the invitation. So, after a delay that’s a bit too long, you make the call. Dinner? Thursday at 8? Your friend is delighted. He’ll be there, and he will come hungry. Anxiety sets in. What can you cook for a cook?

First, you need to realize something: great home cooks (as well as professional chefs) LOVE to be invited for dinner, maybe more than anyone else. Don’t tell them you can’t have them over because your cooking is not as good as theirs. They want (and deserve) a break like the rest of us. So, invite and follow these simple rules:

Being a vegan or even a vegetarian in the capital of jambon-beurre is not just gastronomically challenging, it can also be socially and psychologically trying. Memories of bringing personal provisions of tofu to a French Christmas dinner or trying to order a café crème with soymilk haunt expat vegans as they struggle to integrate into a society of meat and cheese lovers. Facing yet another salade verte, some have even been known to succumb to a tantalizing morsel of foie gras or an innocent forkful of chèvre chaud.

Fear not! Such dietary transgressions are no longer necessary!

Forget about diets and guilt: you are in Paris, for food’s sake. It’s time to cross the threshold of your neighborhood boulangerie.

I never was a sugar addict until I came to Paris. Traveling from New York last January to visit a friend, I unexpectedly developed a huge sweet tooth. I was strolling down the gorgeous but frigid streets of the city one day and suddenly felt starved so I stepped into a warm, inviting boulangerie and bought a small tarte aux framboises.

It was incredible, and cost a mere 2.30 euros.

I had just spent Christmas in Cuba eating rice and beans with pork every day and needed to recover from the deprivation of good food. So I spent the rest of my stay frantically biking from one neighborhood to the next, determined to try as many French pastries—especially tartes—as I could.

Hidden on a narrow street of the 3rd arrondissement, this 50s style bistro is an unanticipated treasure. Open since 1934, it was taken over by young chef Otis Lebert five years ago. Lebert believes in simplicity, seasonality and trusts his instinct to orchestrate a new, enticing menu every day. His daily creations run from traditional French (daube provencale, duck magret) to the light and inventive (egg cocotte with haddock, tempura of baby sole, braised pork cheeks with celery root purée). Desserts are simple and wonderful (pistachio cream, chocolate moelleux), and even the expresso is top-notch, as the chef’s dad is a coffee merchant. Lunch menu 13€; dinner around 35€. Open 8.30am - 1am every day, closed Saturdays & Sundays.
Le Taxi Jaune, 13, rue Chapon, Paris 3. M° Arts et Métiers. 01 42 76 00 40.

By Carol Negiar

Back in the 18th century only the elite drank tea, but today in Paris everyone can enjoy a good cup. In recent years, fancy tea shops are flourishing around the city and, along with hundreds of tea salons, provide a welcome alternative to the insipid liquid served in most cafés and brasseries.

But what is tea? In France, a 1932 law decreed that for a product to be called “thé” it must come from the leaves or twig ends of the tea plant, Camellia Sinensis. In England and the United States “tea” can refer to other plants, such as those used for herbal teas (infusions in France).

Matcha, the fine green tea powder © Kelly Cline

When my son was two months old, cooking for my family and mothering was easy. I would put him in his rocking chair next to me, give him a toy, and start cooking. He was my audience, so I took to describing the menu out loud. Sometimes he would fall asleep, sometimes he would babble along, but most of the time he would just listen.