Why a Perfect Parisian Bistro Will Never be Perfect

Who doesn’t love a great neighborhood bistro? Lately, I’ve heard from lots of visiting folks who found some of Paris’ most beloved bistros disappointing, most notably Bistro Paul Bert. Shouldn’t an authentic bistro conjure up images of tables filled with locals, casual friendly service, affordable comfort food classics and carafes of tasty house wine?

They tell me that their expectations didn’t live up to the experience.  Just a few of the complaints have been that they’ve crossed town to eat in this highly recommended bistro only to have been left sitting too long without someone taking their order (felt “ignored”), water and wine glasses were not refilled, tables were crammed too close together, no butter for the bread, the kitchen refused to substitute vegetables for frites, steaks were only served bleu (rare), the servers either didn’t speak English (or only spoke English), and then it took what seemed like forever to collect the dirty plates or bring the bill.

I was surprised to hear this because what they’re describing is exactly what a great bistro has always been: set in its ways, moving to its own chaotic rhythm, crowded, harried frenetic service and rare beef – it is why I go, it’s just part of the experience.

Perhaps part of the disappointment is that most folks just don’t realize that a bistro doesn’t function like a restaurant.

The word bistro is rumored to have come from the 19^th c. Paris Occupation-era Cossacks pounding the communal tables with their fists shouting, “Beestra! Beestra!” (“Quick!” in Russian) to get served quickly… and although it isn’t exactly fast-food, the bistro is a concept where you order from a set menu that has been created by a kitchen specifically so that the plates (and the drinks for those Russians) can go out swiftly.

This type of communal dining with set menus was in the culture long before sitting down in a proper restaurant to choose from courses.

These days, as soon as you’re seated (wedged in-between other tables or in a corner), the server will make sure you have napkins, cutlery and drinking glasses – then leave you with the one and only prix fixe chalkboard menu, propped against anything that will hold it, for just a few minutes so that you can decide what to order.

Since there aren’t usually printed menus for each person, looking over a menu leisurely is not an option. If making a decision takes too long, they’ll take the chalkboard and move on to other customers. Then you’ll be responsible for flagging them down to get it back. Good luck with that one honey.

The meek need not apply here either, you’ll have to cough up a good “s’il vous plait” to be taken seriously to catch their attention – eye contact is not part of French DNA, so waiting for them to notice you isn’t going to happen. You’ll have to speak up.

When you finally get their attention flying between kitchen, bar and tables, you can imagine the eyebrow raised when special requests are made (vegetables instead of frites, sharing plates, half portions, dressing on the side, steaks well-done, no gluten, etc.) They’ll tell you it comes out as it is and if you can’t eat all of it, don’t. The ticketing system and kitchen are not equipped to handle custom ordering. No time for reinventing the wheel.

If your French is rusty – or non-existent, and they happen to speak English, they’ll speak English to speed things up. When I first arrived in Paris, I had a French dictionary on my table translating every word on the menu before deciding and the owner came over and said, “Madame, the kitchen doesn’t have time for your French lesson today, can you please choose something?”

At the very least, their job is to seat you (thankfully you will never hear the words, “Hi! My name is Jenny and I’ll be your server today!), take your order, place carafes or bottles on the table (for you to serve yourself during your meal), bring a basket of bread (served with butter is NOT the norm) and your food (red meat served bleu IS the norm) – but everything after that has to be requested: more water, pot of mustard, an extra napkin, more wine, the bill, etc.

As far as their not taking the plates? They won’t, until you give them the “signal”… placing your utensils face up, side-by-side on the plate.

They don’t want to intrude until you ask to be intruded upon… This is, mes cher readers, Parisian bistro politeness – leaving you to enjoy your meal and table mates.

Can the Bistro Paul Bert have an off day? Sure it can. But it’s the kind of place that if they are slow in bringing the wine, it isn’t a sign of poor service.

So these days, when I am craving a bistro, I know I’m not going to get friendly service unless it is uncharacteristically slow, red meat is served bleu to rare (woo-hoo!), and I order as fast as I can when I have their attention. As a matter of fact, as soon as I am handed a menu I ask for water and wine. Priorities first, non?

I understand though, folks who work hard to save their money to come to Paris knowing they’ll only get a glimpse of the food scene within the scope of a few days – are probably not going to be happy crossing town for frenetic service and a free for all atmosphere. Then again, there are those that look forward to it.

Restaurants Guy Savoy, Septime, Spring and Frenchie are all delicious – but they aren’t providing the same service as a classic Parisian bistro. These guys are easy-going about making substitutions, creating vegetarian meals and giving you lots of time to look over extensive wine lists. While they might faint at the thought – they could even agree to cook your meat well-done.

Although you can find fish and vegetables, bistros are a BIG draw for carnivores craving hunks of rare red meat with frites and wine.

It is why the Bistro Paul Bert is on the best classic bistro list every year – and – why the very same polished elegant dining companions I have at Guy Savoy who discuss the nuances between this briny oyster and that delicate tomato, LOVE coming here for the steak frites.

The owner of Paul Bert is also entrenched in the local natural wine community (hosting some of the best “industry” wine tastings in town), so I can honestly say that I can’t think of a single person in my circle of friends who would turn down an opportunity to get together at Bistro Paul Bert to laugh too loud and eat and drink too much. My Southern motto is, “Why ‘do’ when you can over-do?” and this place doesn’t disappoint.

So while locals love it, some visitors who cross town for it are disappointed. As my grandfather used to say, “Even one cent has two sides.”

I find the staff harried but friendly, the seasonal market cooking and wines delicious, and appreciate the mixed crowd of winemakers, locals and tourists seated on red leather banquettes enjoying themselves. The 34 euro menu for an entrée + plat + and cheese or dessert is one of the best buys in town.

Starters could include white asparagus and aged parmesan, forest mushrooms on poached eggs and foie gras on toast, followed by main dishes of rare onglet steak with shallots and frites, line-caught mackerel, beef cheeks and roasted chicken and puréed potatoes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you choose cheese instead of their famous Paris-Brest pastry or Grand Mariner souflée, they’ll sit the wooden cutting board platter in front of you – to serve yourself, bien sur. Imagine at this point in this post being disappointed that they didn’t slice the cheese for you?

When I first moved here in 1989, there were a hundred fabulous bistros like this but sadly, only a few of those are still around. I often long for the old days of the Bistro Mazarin when René was front of house – but when he left, the place just lost its soul and I never went back.

For me, the essence of going out of my way to dine in an authentic bistro like Paul Bert, is more than a meal – it’s a chance to witness the true fabric of a Parisian neighborhood.

Eating here is much the same reason why I love going to someone’s country home where we sit around a large table in the kitchen – you don’t expect fancy, good food is great food, you appreciate a gracious host who has chosen and prepared something fresh and delicious, you enjoy the camaraderie, thankful for the effort put into making the ambiance carefree, and then, and especially then, you are understanding if it isn’t perfect.

Imagine a Michelin-starred restaurant getting this kind of leeway? No wonder more and more of their chefs are leaving to open a pared down bistro.

Part of the joy of being a habitual visitor or resident, is finding that one place that you make a connection to, famous eaterie or not, where you always feel welcome and stopping by to say hello becomes the anchor of your day.

It is why Willi’s Wine Bar, Fish, L’Avant Comptoir, Le Baratin, Le Chapeau Melon and Le Verre Volé are perfect examples of places that have had a strong “family” clientele base for years. These places are serving more than food – they are feeding souls.

The bottom line is, a bistro is what it is, and it ain’t nothin’ that it ain’t. A bistro is what you choose to make of it.

In my quartier, the Bistro Paul Bert is MY perfect bistro, a home away from home, a place to catch up with my neighbors around the table, where I derive tremendous pleasure in seeing local folks greet each other warmly by shaking hands and kissing cheeks – and where the host has taken great care in the little details most folks will never notice, such as the background music of glasses clinking and boisterous laughter. True signs of a happy place, and that takes some doing.

With all this around me I don’t even notice imperfections – and nor do they. They take comfort in knowing that we know, that they know, that we know – we aren’t there to be fussy or particular, we are there to just … be.

 

Bistro Paul Bert

What to Expect: Off the beat location, good for groups, informal, busy, market-driven comfort classics, natural and organic wines.

What Not to Expect: A quiet or intimate date night, fancy, vegetarian choices.

Address and Metro: 18, rue Paul Bert, 11th, M° Faidherbe-Chaligny.

Télephone: 01 43 72 24 01

Hours and Prices: Open Tuesday to Saturday lunch (12 noon – 2pm) and dinner (7:30 – 11pm). 34 euro prix fixe menus.

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Tags: Agapé Substance, Bistro Paul Bert, Fish, frenchie, gregory marchand, guy savoy, l'avant comptoir, le baratin, le chapeau melon, Le Verre Volé, natural wine, Septime, spring, steak frites, willi's wine bar, Ze Kitchen Gallerie