Barbra Austin

You would think, just a few days after returning from Hong Kong, that I’d be interested in eating something besides noodles.
You would be wrong.

I’ve been to and enjoyed Bread & Roses several times over the past few years.
The breads are all organic. The pastries are natural beauties. The quiches are deep and the savory tarts are filled with bright vegetables and herbs. Golden raisins peak out from a rock pile of scones…

It isn’t you, it’s me.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand why many people love Le Chateaubriand, and there are many things that I like about it myself.

I never ate at the first Spring, so I didn’t really have any preconceived notions about what the new Spring would be like.

That’s not exactly true: I have met Daniel Rose, visited the boutique, and read plenty about the old Spring. But with the exception of a superb ceviche whipped up for the Paris by Mouth launch party, I had never eaten anything made by M. Rose until last Friday night.

The words “cuisine factory” are written on the façade of Café Tolo, which seems odd considering that it is a small place doing something close to home cooking.

Moms and their mini-mes, mademoiselles in maxi dresses and men in man-pris, all with milky relief in mind on muggy, meridional days are making a made dash to visit Mary, the newly-minted gelato maven of the Marais.

I first visited this place with a couple of girlfriends more than three years ago. Our table wasn’t ready, so we waited with a glass of wine at the kitchen counter, where we tried to stay out of the way of the busy serveuse while chatting and watching the chef cook away. I was charmed.

The aptly named le Timbre is the size of a postage stamp, a single room with a tiny kitchen in the back. Every inch of space is put to use. There is a banquette along each wall, and you’ll need help getting in and out.

Continue reading at Girls’ Guide to Paris…

Natural wines and simple food served in a quirky space by handsome hipsters is the formula for many popular bars à vins in Paris.

I’ve said before that I like a restaurant that recognizes its limitations, but before having lunch at Song Heng, you’ll need to recognize your own.

It was a sort of twisted curiosity that drew me to Ralph’s, the restaurant in the new Ralph Lauren shop on the boulevard St. Germain. Fried chicken? A supposedly great burger? A staff trained by Danny Meyer?


I just wanted to see if they could pull this thing off.