In summer 1936, the French government passed a law that mandated paid holiday, a move that kickstarted the exodus of northerners to the Med every August, and it became a true emblem of the French vacances.
Of the five mother sauces, velouté is extremely under-appreciated and not talked about enough. It's what we as Americans call gravy, which we know has so many various uses. Velouté, which means velvety in French, is made with a light roux (or a mixture of flour and fat, like butter), stock or broth, and some seasoning like salt and pepper, and a bay leaf.
The streets around the Louvre have improved considerably as a dining destination. It's still true that the neighborhood rewards those who know where to look - the blocks immediately adjacent to the museum are thick with tourist traps - but a short walk in almost any direction opens up genuinely good options.
A consistently packed bistro along the Seine in the Marais, Le Petit Célestin delivers reliable French classics in a lively atmosphere that values conviviality over culinary ambition. The menu spans traditional bistro territory - tête de veau, veal kidneys, steak frites - with occasional Italian influences like burrata and linguini with bottarga. The cooking is competent rather than inspired. Razor clams arrive properly garlicky, steak shows good char against rare interior, but some dishes lean too sweet.
Chef Masa Ikuta brings serious classical training honed under Bruno Verjus at Table and Stephane Jego at L'Ami Jean to his own tasting menu restaurant in the 11th arrondissement. The cooking is confidently French-Japanese, moving from sardine churros with Cantabrian anchovy cream to veal brain tempura styled after shirako to a perfectly grilled lamb rack with smoky harissa.
The cooking is unpretentious and generous—big flavors, careful balance, no tweezers—at prices that feel increasingly rare in Paris. Standout dishes include a pheasant tourte with Morteau sausage and girolles, roasted beets with smoked eel and horseradish cream, and wild duck with a Porto jus and roasted parsnips.
Past a sign for a family waterpark, a door opens onto an homage to fin-de-siècle Paris. Chandeliers are reflected in gilt-edged mirrors; there is a chorus line of lobsters and yards of fromage. Every so often, a waiter in a dinner suit flambées a crepe Suzette with a shock of flames, like a big top fire-eater. This is fine dining as buffet.
Everything feels more expensive these days, especially when it comes to eating out. One place in particular where you might have noticed an increase in prices is at bakeries as owners continue to battle the rising costs of staple ingredients like butter and eggs. But no matter how much your local bakery is charging, you can at least rest assured that there are people paying a heck of a lot more out there, especially at Cedric Grolet in London.
Israeli chef Assaf Granit shifts focus from Mediterranean cooking to Eastern European Jewish cuisine at Boubalé, located in the Grand Mazarin hotel steps from BHV. The menu draws on Ashkenazi traditions - borscht, chicken liver, pastrami, and potato-forward preparations inspired by Granit's Polish grandmother. The vast dining room manages warmth through maximalist touches: doilies, colorful glassware, and grandmother-approved murals. Standout dishes include salmon floating in borscht with pickled turnips, Israeli couscous risotto with spinach, and an exceptional chocolate mousse drizzled with olive oil.
Back in 2024, after a reporting trip for a whiskey magazine, I got tired of drinking. Perhaps it was the sluggishness I felt each morning, or maybe it was the podcast I'd heard while traveling, which shared the news that one or two glasses of red wine was not, as we had long been told, healthy. Whatever the reason, I tossed in the daily drinking towel after that trip, figuring that going forward, I might only have a drink or two every now and again.
Live-fire cooking defines Robert et Louise, a Marais institution where beef, lamb, and duck sizzle over an open fireplace in the ground-floor dining room. The wood-fired approach delivers generous portions at moderate prices - most mains stay under 30€, with classic French bistro fare like blood sausage, grilled lamb chops, and charred steak. The main floor centers on a crackling brick fireplace where meat cooks directly over flame.
A little more than a year ago, after running a successful pop-up called Ha's Đặc Biệt, the chefs Sadie Mae Burns and Anthony Ha opened Ha's Snack Bar, an itsy-bitsy restaurant on the Lower East Side. The Snack Bar, like the pop-up, served Vietnamese-inspired dishes that were clever, cheffy (and more than a bit French-inflected), and utterly cool without any sort of hauteur.
