October 15, 2013
9th best bar in the world, and the best bar in Europe, according to World’s 50 Best Bars. You really can’t go wrong here.
One of the things I admire most here is the total lack of pretension. Despite the very serious cocktail program, and the incredible breadth and depth of knowledge the people behind the sticks have, it still manages to feel like a welcoming neighborhood bar — albeit welcoming in a dark and sexy way. Last time I visited, there were dudes in t-shirts and basketball shorts mingling with women in Chanel. Then again, it was fashion week.
October 7, 2013
Hey, remember those photo assignments I went to Paris for? This was the first — one of my favorite places in my old neighborhood, the Marais.
By now, lots of you know that Candelaria is the best place in Paris to get your Mexican food fix along with your artisan cocktail fix. But did you know that it’s also the best place to nurse your Sunday morning hangover with delicious huevos rancheros and hair of the dog drinks? Even better: it’s usually just tacos in the front and cocktails in the back, but during brunch you get to dine and drink in that awesome speakeasy back room.
Mexican food has long been my morning-after-party craving, so this seems a natural and perfect combination to me. I wasn’t hung over when I showed up a couple of weeks ago for the first of many shoots during my week in Paris, but I was coming off of nearly twenty-four hours of plane and and airport time, so close enough?
dining out, paris |
Tags: bar, brunch, brunch paris, Candelaria, candelaria paris, cheap eats, cheap eats paris, cocktail bar paris, dining, food, france, hair of the dog, huevos rancheros, marais, mexican food paris, paris, paris photo trip 2013, paris restaurant, restaurant, tacos, tortilla, tostada |
December 2, 2012
It’s been a weird week. On top of hightailing it back to Paris after the break-in, I came home to a very sick dude who required lots of love and tea and homemade chicken noodle soup (coming eventually). My comfort comes from elsewhere.
I have a love affair with diners. On early afternoons on Saturdays or Sundays back in LA, after rolling out of bed, I would take a thick book to Rae’s or Bobby’s or whatever other first-name-apostrophe-s greasy spoon was closest and served never-ending coffee. I would order bacon soft, eggs over easy, hash well-done, and wheat toast with butter and jam. I would sit there at the counter and eat and read and drink coffee until I was gently vibrating in my seat. After a while, the waitresses stopped asking me if I wanted more coffee and just poured more whenever they happened by. Then they stopped asking me what I wanted to order and just brought me the usual. Once, I leant a copy of Infinite Jest to a Bobby’s waitress. Another time, a server at Rae’s let me borrow her copy of Maus. I liked being alone around people. This is how I would reset before the onrushing work week, and now I guess this is how I reset when life gets fuzzy around the edges.
Breakfast in America is as close to those diners as I’m going to find in this city. Heinz ketchup and French’s yellow on the table, bacon and eggs and pancakes and burgers on the menu (though with the shocking omission of biscuits and gravy). Purportedly bottomless cafe americain.
November 19, 2012
I’ve been thinking about how small the world is this week. I went out to meals with two lovely girls who reminded me that, no matter how far from home I feel sometimes, it’s often miraculously easy to find people with whom you have a connection, even on the other side of the world.
Julia and I first got acquainted in college. We lived on the same floor in the dorms during our first year at UCLA, but we didn’t really travel in the same circles so didn’t hang out much. Years later, we both found ourselves in Paris, connected through our respective significant others who work together. Bizarre coincidence, that. Julia is great fun to hang out with and has progressed much farther in her French studies than I have. Hearing her chatting away with the people we encounter when we go out inspires me to get a better grip on my motivation.
This week, we met up at NoGlu, a new gluten-free restaurant in the 2nd. As far as I’m aware, I believe it’s the only entirely gluten-free restaurant in Paris. It’s only been open two months or so, but there are so many people who are intolerant of gluten that it’s a miracle it’s taken this long to catch on. The food was hearty and comforting and the service warm. Without the hint of the traditional baguette slices on the table being supplanted by a warm, dense bread that might have been oatmeal-based, I would never have known the kitchen was working with such a limitation.
16 passage des Panoramas, 75002 (Richelieu – Drouot)
01 40 26 41 24
dining out, paris |
Tags: autumn, fall, food, french food, friendsgiving, friendship, gluten free, gluten-free paris restaurant, gluten-free restaurant, gratitute, les mauvais garcons, marais, noglu, paris, paris restaurant, party, passage des panoramas, restaurants, thanksgiving, travel |