Barbra Austin

I’m on the road now (more on that soon) but here are a few stand-out meals I’ve had recently in Paris.

It’s possible that J’Go was once good. Indeed, when I revisited one positive review I remembered reading, there was ample evidence, both written and photographic, that this restaurant used to serve something that not only looked edible but appetizing and fresh.

What I ate was insipid and suspect.

Casse-Noix means “nutcracker” in French, and so I’ve pretty much had the Waltz of the Snowflakes in my head since reading about this restaurant a few weeks ago, reinforced by what has seemed like daily dropping of neige here in Paris. That is not a complaint. As of today I’m officially finished complaining about the weather, since it improves neither the weather nor my mood.

So yes, there’s a new bistro in the 15th called Le Casse-Noix and yes, there are actual nutcrackers involved, at the end of the meal when you’re presented with a bowl of walnuts still in their shells. There is no dancing.

For those of you love ice cream as much as I do but are disheartened by the cold, or for those readers who simply wish to raise their cholesterol level, I’ve found a solution.

It’s not even technically winter yet, but you wouldn’t know it in Paris these days. A cold snap worthy of deepest January settled in last week, and didn’t let up until Saturday during a substantial snowstorm, turning those pretty flakes into freezing wet drops.

Never mind that it comes from a very warm place: The Vietnamese noodle soup known simply as Pho, a beef and charred onion broth, aromatic with spices (yes, that is cinnamon you smell) is a perfect cold weather food.

I love a good frisée aux lardons, which is, I thought, what I ordered the other night.

It’s likely that the Brits invented brunch, and now two former Rose Bakery cooks are working on perfecting it at Le Bal Café.

I’m just going to get this out in the open before I lose the courage to say it: Pascal Guerreau’s mille-feuille at Tholoniat rivals the one at Jacques Genin.

I don’t know about you, but I find it reassuring that a place like Le Rubis still exists in Paris, particularly in a high-rent part of town, where one of the hottest places to “eat” is something called a “water bar”.

Le Rubis is a 1930s-era bar à vin that seems to have changed little since then. From the zinc bar to the barrels on the sidewalk out front, it’s a kind of time capsule that would almost feel fake if it weren’t so utterly authentic.

Continue reading at Girls’ Guide to Paris…

The team from Racines has moved on to sleek new digs.