Tasting Paris: 100 Recipes to Eat Like a Local: A Cookbook

WELCOME TO PARIS

BIENVENUE À PARIS

On one’s first or perhaps even second visit to Paris, it’s hard not to be seduced by the city’s most famous sights: the monumental avenues such as the Champs-Elysées, which links the Arc de Triomphe and the Place de la Concorde; the Eiffel Tower; Notre-Dame; Place des Vosges. I’ve lived here all my life, and riding my bicycle across any one of the Seine’s bridges still makes my heart swell.

But what I think of most when I wander my hometown is food: Saint-Germain-des-Prés, to me, means macarons from Pierre Hermé and Les Halles roast chicken from the Champeaux brasserie. The Tuileries, bordered on the north by rue de Rivoli, bring to mind Angelina and thus hot chocolate, and the cafés near Porte Dauphine, where I spent my student years, evoke the satisfying croque-madame, the velvety yolk dripping down the crust of the bread. Barbès seduces with couscous; Belleville comforts with Chinese rice soup. From humble stews to sophisticated pastries, vibrant greens to oozy cheeses, the classic to the creative, the familiar to the exotic—it’s all here, waiting for you to hop off at the closest metro station, push open a door, and walk in.

There are so many tasty ways a day can unfold in Paris. Will it begin with a flaky croissant dipped in café au lait, or a slice of rye and red miso bread from the city’s most innovative baker? At lunch, will you close your eyes in bliss at the first forkful of lettuce, dressed in the perfect bistro vinaigrette? Or will you opt for a Kurdish pizza from a sandwich shack at Faubourg-Saint-Denis?

Later in the afternoon, will you stop for black tea with Earl Grey madeleines, or mint tea at the Great Mosque, with orange blossom and date cookies? Next, your Parisian friends may invite you for a predinner drink and surprise you with a classy, timeless cocktail, like a French 75, and the gratinéed mussels they whipped up like it’s nothing.

Finally, you’ll end the day at a favorite bistro for a soul-warming pot-au-feu, unless you try that exciting new restaurant nobody knows about (yet) where you’ll have the best trout. And maybe some profiteroles, if there’s room.

Paris is a multifaceted city, with a multitude of cultures and flavors pulsing through its streets. I’ve captured my favorite recipes here, along with the stories that give them life, to create a snapshot of my city today—to bring a little bit of Paris into your home, and to tide you over between visits.

On y va?

Find a full directory of the places mentioned, variations for special diets, menus, behind-the-scenes videos, and other free bonuses at tasti­ngpar­iscoo­kbook.com.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF

PARISIAN CUISINE

Paris was always destined to become an exceptional city for food and dining.

In Roman times, and until the fourth century, Paris was called Lutetia. Its position on the Seine, and the proximity of two additional rivers, allowed the town to thrive and grow. The islets at the city’s heart—of which Île de la Cité and Île Saint-Louis remain—made it easy to cross the river, aiding commerce.

A vast vineyard—the largest in France until the nineteenth century—enriched the landscape, so Parisians drank local wine and cooked with vinegar. The rich wetlands were ideal for growing produce, and maraîchers carted in their fresh salads, herbs, and vegetables daily. Further out, a vast expanse of land was devoted to grain, which was milled and then baked into bread. Easy access to woods and pastures kept the city fed with meat, wild or farmed, and dairy products.

Parisians were self-sufficient, reveling in their unique culinary setting. But the city was also an exceptional hub of power and wealth, and the elite, eager to eat delicacies from other French provinces and far beyond, imported them—first by boat, then through a well-developed road system, and eventually via the railroad. This openness to new and sometimes foreign flavors eventually trickled down to all classes, becoming a notable trait of Parisian cuisine.

Paris is also the birthplace of the restaurant as we know it. In the late eighteenth century, as noble families fled the city in the aftermath of the French Revolution, they left their kitchen staff behind. These highly trained cooks had always practiced their craft in private settings, serving food à la française: multiple preparations served all at once to form a ridiculously bountiful spread. They cast this outdated model aside and opened novel establishments—the first restaurants—where anyone could come in and compose a meal, dish by dish, off a menu. Around the same time, pastry chefs and charcutiers opened new shops with large windows displaying spectacular goods to passers-by. This historic change from private to public dining led to the official birth of gastronomy: an elevated appreciation of good food and a field of social study.

In the 1800s, Europeans started to travel more, and outside influences continued to develop the culinary culture of Paris; German-inspired brasseries and bouillons—simple restaurants selling affordable foods to the working class—sprang up, for example. This trend continued into the 1900s, as the French left rural provinces to make it in the big city before the great wars. In the decades that followed, migrant populations from Europe, Asia, and Africa followed, each community bringing diversity to the mix and enriching the food scene.

In recent history, two major shifts have affected how Parisians eat: one was the advent of nouvelle cuisine in the 1970s, which did away with heavy dishes and rich sauces. It coincided with new concerns over health, nutrition, and even sustainability, which all play an increasing role in dictating what Parisians eat today, and what restaurants serve.

Another historic milestone was the appearance of gastro-bistros in the ’90s, when a generation of classically trained young chefs decided to leave fine-dining restaurants and luxury hotels to open bistros of their own. There, they applied their haute cuisine skills to humbler ingredients, making their food affordable for ordinary diners. The dawn of bistronomie was a turning point for Paris chefs. It helped reinvigorate the dining landscape as well as liberate home cooks to explore this new, creative style of cooking.

Today, I will argue that the Paris food scene is more exciting, more diverse, more open-minded than it has ever been. In the wake of the 2008 economic crisis, chefs and diners alike have reevaluated what it means to live in a gastronomic capital, and their standards are high. Independence, innovation, playfulness, and multiculturalism are central values, and evolutions in food trends are embraced just as the city‘s deep-rooted history is honored and celebrated.

MORNING

LE MATIN

Il est cinq heures

Paris s’éveille

—JACQUES DUTRONC

Taking my children to school early in the morning means passing commuters coming in and out of the Art Nouveau metro station; a bakery, shelves loaded, the warm smell of croissants wafting out of the sidewalk vents; and a neighborhood café, where a handful of customers gulp down espressos at the zinc counter.

I cross paths with other parents nudging along their young children, street cleaners picking up the traces of the previous night’s parties, employees from the charcuterie around the corner, and office workers in business attire, adjusting ties and scarves. It’s still quiet but the city is waking up, and if I’m lucky the sky is pink and blue over Sacré-Coeur.

Days full of promise begin with a good breakfast, and as I study my fellow Parisians, exchanging smiles with familiar faces, I wonder secretly about their petit déjeuner. A buttered tartine dunked in chocolat chaud? A bowl of cereal with yogurt? A brioche stashed in their briefcase for later?

Whatever style resonates with you, this chapter presents delicious options for having breakfast or brunch, Paris-style, chez vous.

CLASSIC

CAFÉ AU LAIT

~CAFÉ AU LAIT~

classique

Café au lait (coffee with milk), a fifty-fifty mix of whole milk and coffee swirling together into a soft and silky morning drink, is a beloved staple of home-style French breakfasts. The trick is to start with very strong coffee, about twice as strong as you would if you were drinking it black, so the flavor of the beans comes through the milkiness. Serving it in a bowl is also key (ideally, a chipped flea market find), so you can dunk your buttered tartines or the tip of your croissant.

Note that ordering café au lait at a Parisian café, however perfectly accented your French, is a dead giveaway that you’re not from around here. Café au lait is the beverage the French make in the privacy of their own kitchen with drip coffee and heated milk. What you want to order from your café server is a café crème, made from an espresso and machine-steamed milk, which will arrive in a proper tasse. No dunking allowed.

SERVES 2

1½ cups (360 ml) very strong coffee

1½ cups (360 ml) whole milk (or unsweetened unflavored nondairy milk)

Sugar (optional)

Set out two bowls (or mugs), each about 1½ cups (360 ml) in capacity.

While the coffee is brewing, bring the milk to just under a simmer in a saucepan. Don’t allow it to boil. Divide the hot coffee between the two bowls and stir in the hot milk.

Serve immediately, with sugar on the side for those who prefer their coffee sweetened.

• VARIATIONS •

For a frothy café au lait, buzz the hot milk (carefully) in a blender for a few seconds before pouring, or use the steamer spout of a home espresso machine to heat it up.

Don’t drink coffee? Try this with strong instant chicory.

POACHED EGGS

WITH BREAD CRUMBS & ONION PICKLE

~ŒUFS POCHÉS~

chapelure et oignon en aigre-doux

In recent years, the Paris coffee scene has experienced a much-needed renaissance. Yes, traditional cafés have long been central to the city’s social fabric, but nobody really goes for the coffee. Thankfully, a younger generation of coffee aficionados, blown away by the craft coffee they drank in Melbourne, London, or New York, decided French people deserved fabulous coffee. Now, every neighborhood in Paris has several indie coffee shops that can be trusted to deliver a fine cup—and some inventive fare; my favorite in Montmartre is Cuillier, which is popular with local freelancers who come in the morning to start their day off right. If they’re hungry for breakfast, they may opt for this poached egg and yogurt bowl, topped with bread crumbs and onion pickle. An intriguing combination of ingredients, I agree, but a surprisingly successful one.

SERVES 4

1 tablespoon unsalted butter or rendered bacon fat

½ cup (50 g) unseasoned bread crumbs (see Making Your Own Bread Crumbs, this page)

1 tablespoon vinegar

Fine sea salt

4 large eggs (see Note), cold from the refrigerator

1½ cups (360 ml) plain full-fat Greek yogurt, preferably at room temperature

Freshly ground black pepper

Quick Red Onion Pickle (recipe follows)

In a small skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the bread crumbs, stir to coat, and cook, stirring regularly, until lightly browned, 3 to 4 minutes. Transfer to a bowl.

Fill a medium saucepan halfway up with water. Add the vinegar and ½ teaspoon salt and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat so that the water is just under a simmer. You want water that is as hot as possible without being so bubbly and agitated that the egg white strands will disperse.

Break one egg into a ladle. Lower the ladle into the pan, keeping it against the side so the egg remains contained in these first few moments. Remove the ladle and let the egg cook for 3 minutes without disturbing (4 to 5 if you prefer a firmer yolk). Lift the egg out with a slotted spoon and reserve on a plate. Repeat with the remaining eggs. (Poaching eggs takes a little practice; don’t get discouraged if they don’t come out perfect the first time.)

Divide the yogurt among 4 shallow bowls. Add a poached egg to each, and season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with the bread crumbs, top with a few slices of pickle, and serve.

• NOTE •

It’s important that the eggs be very fresh because the yolk is not cooked through when poached.

• VARIATION •

Serve over wilted spinach or a boiled sweet potato.

MAKING YOUR OWN BREAD CRUMBS

If you buy good bread and have a blender or food processor, there is no need to purchase bread crumbs, ever. Allow leftover pieces of bread to dry completely in a bowl on the counter, and process until finely ground (this is very loud but effective). Don’t worry if the grind is uneven. Transfer to an airtight container, keep at room temperature, and use within 3 months.

QUICK RED ONION PICKLE

Oignon rouge en aigre-doux

This quick pickle formula transforms a red onion into the prettiest pink slivers to boost savory breakfast bowls, salads, roasted vegetables, and sandwiches with delightful notes of sweet, sour, and crunchy pungency.

MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS (360 ML)

1 medium red onion (about 8 ounces/225 g), peeled

3 cups (720 ml) boiling water

1 cup (240 ml) white wine vinegar or cider vinegar

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon fine sea salt

2 teaspoons spices, such as black or pink peppercorns, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, or juniper berries (optional)

Have ready a spotlessly clean, 1½-cup (360 ml) glass jar with a tight-fitting lid.

Using a sharp knife or mandoline, cut the onion into slices ⅛ inch (4 mm) thick, working your way from stem end to root. Put the onion slices in a metal colander in the sink, separating the slices into rings.

Pour the boiling water over the onions rings. Pack them into the jar.

In a small saucepan, combine the vinegar, sugar, salt, and spices (if using) and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt. Pour into the jar, tamp the onion rings down so they’re fully immersed, and close the lid. Cool on the counter completely before using, 1 to 2 hours.

Store the leftovers in the refrigerator up to 1 month. The pickle will improve further over the next 2 days.

• VARIATION •

Add a small, thinly sliced fresh red chile to the jar, interspersed with the onion rings.

CHOCOLATE

BREAD

~PAIN AU CACAO~

et chocolat

Rue des Martyrs shoots up from the 9th arrondissement into the 18th, a typical Paris market street that defies logic by featuring half a dozen successful boulangeries, some of them just one block apart. Such is the luxury of Parisians, to be able to elect their corner bakery among many. Mine is Maison Landemaine, which offers a divine chocolate bread. This is not to be confused with pain au chocolat, which is croissant dough wrapped around two sticks of chocolate. I’m talking about a yeasted bread flavored with cocoa powder and studded with chocolate chips. Not too sweet and not too rich, it makes a perfect beginning to the day, lightly toasted and spread with butter or almond butter.

This recipe makes three medium loaves; I suggest you eat one now, gift the second, and freeze the third. (There’s a life lesson in there somewhere.)

MAKES THREE 12-OUNCE (340 G) LOAVES

2¼ teaspoons active dry yeast

2¼ cups (540 ml) lukewarm water

5¼ cups (680 g) bread flour, plus more for dusting

½ cup (60 g) unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder

2 tablespoons (25 g) sugar

2 teaspoons fine sea salt

5 ounces (140 g) bittersweet chocolate chips (60 to 70% cacao), or chopped chocolate

Prepare the dough the day before baking. Proof the yeast in 1 cup (240 ml) of the lukewarm water (see How to Proof Yeast, following).

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook (or in a large bowl if working by hand), stir together the flour, cocoa powder, sugar, salt, yeast mixture, and remaining 1¼ cups (300 ml) lukewarm water until combined. Knead with the dough hook on medium-low speed for 5 minutes (if working by hand, transfer to the counter and knead for 10 minutes), until the dough is smooth and pulls away from the sides of the bowl or counter. Add the chocolate chips and knead just to distribute. (If working by hand, return to the bowl.) Cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and let rest for 1 hour at room temperature in a draft-free corner of the kitchen.

After this rest, fold the dough about twelve times in the bowl, pulling it up from the sides and over itself with a spatula. This develops flavor and creates a well-structured crumb. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 8 to 12 hours, at your convenience.

The next day, remove the dough from the fridge; it should have doubled in size. Remove the plastic wrap and cover the bowl with a kitchen towel. Let the dough come back to room temperature, about 1 hour.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Scrape the dough