Barbra Austin

Back in July I had a dessert at Vivant that I still think about: A slippery peach, juicy and fragrant, served well by a dollop of lightened mascarpone and crushed almonds. When I told Pierre Jancou how much I liked it, he immediately and ardently deflected all credit to the fruit, the grower, and the location of the orchard. I probably blushed.

Of all the foods in the world to deconstruct, the galette complète, that perfect all-in-one meal of egg, ham, and cheese in a hot buckwheat envelope, seems like an unlikely candidate, and yet that’s exactly what I was faced with at La Compagnie de Bretagne, the new upscale crêperie in the Sixth.

My first meal here, in early May, was an utter pleasure, not least because of the good company, or that it began with a coupe of Lassaigne at the bar. We were seated in front of the pass at the open kitchen, radishes and butter arrived, and we required no coaxing to commit to the five-course menu.

Until two weeks ago, I hadn’t been to Frenchie since late summer of 2009. I loved the the two meals I had then, and I loved the food this time, maybe even more.

We started with a foie gras torchon, an hors-formule, 14€ add-on to the three-course, 38€ menu. It was outstanding, perfectly textured, dusted with coarse salt and pepper and getting a jolt from a few very boozy cherries.

There was a côte de veau for two, and sweetbreads with purée, asparagus and girolles on the menu at Le Severo, but the reason I traveled almost the entire length of line four was to eat steak. And not just any, but what might be some of the best in Paris.

No matter what your religious beliefs or disbeliefs may be, I think the best time of year to visit Paris chocolate shops is around Easter.

I have been to Le Bal two of the last three three of the last four Sundays, for several reasons. First, there is the coffee, about which much has been written already. Then there are the scones.

The day after dinner at Q-Tea, my dining partner sent me a heavily-researched dossier of Chinese addresses in Paris (this friend happens to be an academic), mostly culled from this blog, but also from the lengthy list of I’ve-always-wanted-to-try-that places he keeps in his head, one of which, L’Orient d’Or, was praised by the mystery blogger and also, recently, by Alexander Lobrano. Done.

If you’re at all interested in the Parisian dining landscape, chances are high that you read Mark Bittman’s recent piece for the New York Times, Four Paris Restaurants Worth a Metro Ride. His assumption — and it’s mostly fair — is that most tourists don’t make it to the 10th, 18th, 19th, and 20th arrondissements.

But, as someone who lives in the 10th, it’s actually the restaurants in the center of town — never mind the bistro wonderland of the 15th– that require a commute. One that surely merits a ticket is Les Bistronomes.

Q-Tea, an itty-bitty Chinese table in the ninth, has been on my list since the stellar reviews started rolling in early this year, but I only got around to trying it last weekend.

It’s a closet of a space, decorated in polka dots (q cute!) and colors my eleven year-old self would have very much liked to have had in her bedroom. The prices are low (10-13€ for mains), and the husband and wife team who preside over this little lavender domain are utterly kind. In other words, the place has its charms. Unfortunately, the food is not one of them.