Bonjour, ça va ?
Spring has sprung here in Paris and I can finally say au revoir to S.A.D. for another year. Masks are done with, the pass vaccinal is no longer required… I think we’ve finally entered—dare I say it—the post-Rona era! The days spent crying on the sofa watching that infamous Qantas ad seem but a distant dream.
Perhaps finally feeling free from the sterile shackles of COVID, all I’ve wanted to do recently is frequente the bistros of Paris. Not brasseries, not some fancy fine-dining 10-course menu—I’m craving the community and the comfort of these traditional neighbourhood eating spots.
I want the red wine-stained Vichy tablecloths, the knobbly chairs, the rib-sticking fare, and the noisy elbow-to-elbow dining. I want to watch rugged locals gather daily for the lunch special menu du jour, all washed down with a few glasses of table wine. And judging by the eating habits of those around me, I’m not alone in my newfound obsession with bistros.
Give the girl a steak frites already—the bistro is back!
The Return of the Parisian Bistro
Folklore has it that the name ‘bistro’ came from Russian troops who occupied Paris in the post-Napoleonic wars era. Hangry Russian soldiers supposedly howled “bystra!” (quickly!) at Parisian restaurant owners as a demand to be served in haste. Luckily for French pride, this seems to be nothing more than silly fodder.
It’s more likely that Parisian bistros started as the establishments of migrants from the Auvergne region in the South-West of France who arrived in Paris in the 1830s, hot on the heels of the Industrial Revolution. A lot of these migrants found their stride in the capital selling wood, coal, and steel. Many opened cafés within their shops (known as café-charbons) where you could get a hot cuppa and a sack of coal all under the same roof—entrepreneurship at its finest. Eventually, they started opening bistros: mum-and-pop style eateries, with a cook and not a chef at the helm, serving the traditional low-fare dishes of their hometowns to factory workers.
As you can imagine, l’ambiance of these locales was quite choquante in comparison to that of traditional Parisian cafés run by professional restauranteurs.
With their sincere conviviality and low-price offerings, bistros quickly became the cornerstone of the Parisian dining scene—sort of like the pubs of Paris. That is, until the 1970s when gastronomy, a minimalist, precision-driven style of cooking, stole the limelight. Looking to cut costs, bistro owners turned to low-quality, often frozen, produce and the humble neighborhood bistro, unfortunately, became synonymous with tourist trap.
Today, there are only an estimated 40,000 bistros left across France, representing just 13% of the restaurant scene— a huge drop from 1945 when the 400,000 bistros found across the country accounted for 50%.
But now in 2022, with diners seeking both pleasure and generosity in their plates post several lock-downs, the bistro has made a comeback as a gathering spot for connection and comfort. The generous support of the French government to the hospitality industry also gave restauranteurs the time to reflect on what they wanted to offer going ahead—and for many, this meant revisiting the classic dishes of bistro-fare, or even opening a bistro of their own. I’ve never seen so many restaurants serving up oeuf mayonnaise.
I anticipate (and truly hope!) that in this post-pandemic landscape, the humble bistro will regain its popularity of days of yore.
So, after many weekends of clogging my arteries with steak frites, I’ll leave you with my top picks of the Paris bistro scene:
Le Petit Celestin: Nestled on the side of the Seine, Le Petit Celestin is the bistro-to-be-at these days and you can’t get more bistro-y than this. With Vichy napkins, steak frites for days, a playlist comprised of classic tunes—I love everything about this place. It almost pains me to share this hidden gem as I want to be sure I can get a reservation every weekend!
Le Baratin: Despite featuring on every tourist’s must-eat list of Paris, Le Baratin still maintains its charm as a neighbourhood eatery. I’ve never been disappointed with a meal here and the wine list is the best out of all the bistros mentioned.
Les Arlots: Nothing screams bistro more than a good old saucisse purée and Les Arlots happens to have the best in town.
Amarante: This is one for bistro die-hard fans like myself. The text on their website homepage invites those who “love meat with a bit of fat, love butter… and don’t like coca-cola or overcooked meat,” to dine at their establishment. You cannot order your steak well-done or even medium-rare here—only bleu or saignant are accepted. It’s simple but sensational.
Bistrot Paul Bert: Again, a classic, but it never fails to impress. Wash down your hachis parmentier with a bottle of Jean Foillard and be sure to keep an eye out for celebs. I once saw Keanu Reeves hand out Rolexes to his Matrix stunt team over dinner here.
How to Pair Wines with Bistro Fare
I realised it’s been a hot second since I’ve put my Live-In Sommelier to work, so I thought I’d call on him to suggest wine pairings to go with the classic dishes of the bistro. The bistros I’ve mentioned above all have great wine lists, but it doesn’t hurt to know which exactly of the 250 or so grape varieties that are found in France will go with your l’os à moelle—and why.
Charcuterie: A light red such as a gamay from Beaujolais or Pineau d’Aunis. You want something light and fruity with acidity to cut through the salt and fat of the meat. Also, not too alcoholic as you’ve got a whole meal to go!
Terrine: For a rustic terrine, like what you’ll find at a bistro, choose a Cabernet Franc from Loire (Chinon or Saumur). You want some tannins to match the meatiness of the terrine.
Oeuf mayonnaise: Egg is a tough food to pair wine with because it coats the palate and hard boiled eggs can have a sulphureous side. A young, sharp light white like a sauvingon blanc or a Macon Villages should combat the binding nature of eggs—and will also go well with the mayonnaise.
Foie gras: Sauternes! May seem crazy to serve a dessert wine with an entrée but this is a classic pairing: divine decadence, darling. It’s a waltz of contrast (sweet v. savoury) and compliment but sauternes has the depth and intensity to match the boldness of foie gras.
L’os à moelle (bone marrow): Gamay or a Cabernet Franc from Loire. A red with not too many tannins as the meat is very delicate!
Steak frites: Any full-bodied red, like a Châteauneuf-du-Pape from the Southern Rhône. Heavy reds have high tannins to check the fattiness of the meat and potatoes. Or match your wine to the sauce! For a sauce au poivre, you can’t beat a Côtes du Rhone—strong and peppery just like the sauce. With a sauce bearnaise you could even be adventurous and go for a Chardonnay, rather than a heavy red, to match the sauce.
Steak tartare: Beaujolais cru like Morgon or a young Syrah. As steak tartare is raw, it doesn’t have a grilled surface to handle big tannic reds. You’ll want something lighter but with enough oomph to match the seasonings added to the meat (mustard, capers etc.)
Andouillette: Never. Order. Andouillette.
Filet de bar, sauce au beurre blanc: Chablis, chablis, chablis! Even with a butter sauce, bass (bar) is a delicate fish. An unoaked chardonnay like Chablis will respect the delicacy with its minerality and freshness.
It’s always a good idea to order your wines from lowest alcohol content to strong full-bodied wines over the course of a meal. And never save your best bottles til last—chances are you’ll be too drunk by that stage to remember them!
A la prochaine!
P.S. Writing this newsletter is a labor of pure love. If you enjoy my writing (and are able to) please consider Buying Me A Coffee. Buy Me A Coffee is an initative to help creatives, like myself, by enabling followers to make a small donation—the price of a coffee—in support of their work.