I’m on something of a touristy bent for this post, as well as the last one. I know that. But I’m trusting that you’ll forgive me as I promise to be covering some less familiar ground in the coming posts. It’s just that with the Parisian weather having turned foul the last couple of days (what happened to autumn? In fact, what on earth happened to summer??) I find myself being driven indoors to places where one can cuddle up with something sweet and comforting, with pretty things to look at (both surroundings, edibles and people) and nicely turned out staff to attend to my every need. Well, my every culinary need, at the very least. And for a much neater price (read: compact) than I might find in an equivalently chichi restaurant, afternoon tea salons serve much the same purpose but permit me to simply skip to dessert, and to order more than one dessert, should it be my whim (this is something of a gastronomic disorder that I have – but I digress). So where to go?

Cue: Angelina on rue de Rivoli in the 1st arrondissement. … read more »

I’ve never been a great fan of frequenting the touristy places to which the camera-bearing hoards flock. I understand that most of these locations do indeed possess charm: discreet, bourgeois or otherwise. However I can’t help but feel as though I’m selling out or giving in if I (shock horror) pay a visit to one of these places or (gasp!) admit to enjoying it. But here it is, I have to confess my quaint little touristy sin – one that I happily indulge in and have very few regrets in doing so.

If it’s a rainy afternoon (as Paris afternoons are want to be), if it’s a little cold outside, or hell, for any other excuse that I can concoct, you’ll find me happily snuggling up to some kind of cream puff pastry on a banquette in the Ladurée tearoom in rue Bonaparte in the 6th. … read more »

If you’re searching for a nook in which to bury yourself to see out the changing of the seasons, I may just have found your new lair.

Nestled in amongst the grand looming buildings of the Bourse area on rue des Petits-Champs lies the cosy Bistrot Vivienne. Its namesake taken from the undercover walkway or ‘Galerie’ Vivienne, located directly to the right of the bistro, this is a fine little spot that has been keeping regulars happy since 2002. The décor appears at first glance to be an exercise in standard Parisian bistro style, circa 1930. In the front room you will find lots of heavy dark wood, mirrors, banquettes and chandeliers. However push past this ‘gentlemanly’ aesthetic (yes, Bourse – the French Stock Exchange - is just around the corner and yes, the suits do like to lunch here) and you will find loads of warmth, individuality and genuine appeal in what may otherwise simply have been a standard Parisian bistro experience. … read more »

Picture this: It’s lunchtime on a balmy weekday afternoon. As you enter the dining room of your chosen destination you spy what may just be the most elaborately stocked bar you’ve ever seen, whilst to your left and beyond art deco canvas’s and murals line the walls. Claret-coloured banquettes nurse the sprawling afternoon drinkers, whilst the rest of the furniture - a collection of heavy dark wood and solid chocolate-coloured leather - contains a gaggle of elegantly giddy diners. Large mirrors scatter the afternoon sun around the walls and across the well-worn floorboards, whilst the deep yellow shades and the occasional palm tree serve to heighten the gently infectious languor of the room.

Walking to your table to the rhythmic tap of another woman’s heels crossing the floor, you notice a young man wearing a Trilby and a banker’s stripe suit making eyes at the woman across from him, a flame-haired minx in head to toe black velvet with lace netting strung across her face. You feel hot just looking at her, but she doesn’t loose a bead of sweat and instead coolly sips at a glass of pink champagne. To your right another man sits with his dining companion, a small lapdog cosseted in a leather bag resting on a chair, the dog occasionally lapping at a bowl of water that has been brought over just for his pleasure. Dotted around this unusual collection of diners in the mellow light are clusters of gracefully lunching people, now and again whispering and surveying the scene, and now also surveying you, the stage’s newest player. The overhead ceiling fans diffuse the array of conversations in the temperate air. The dark molasses voice of Frank Sinatra softly echoes across the room as the black and white clad waiters dart from table to table. All this and it is only 1pm.

With all of its high society attitude and old school aesthetics, this could be a scene from a gentleman’s club somewhere in the British colonies in the 1940s. But happily, no, this is early September in Paris at Le Fumoir – “The Smoking Room” – just off rue de Rivoli, around the corner from the Louvre in the 1st arrondissement. And this is just lunchtime. … read more »

As someone who is not originally from these parts, sometimes what I miss most about home is being able to walk into a bar where you are greeted by a familiar smile, your favourite drink and you don’t need to tell them just how you like your coffee. Well, it took me a while but last year I finally found my bar away from home: La Patache. And what a find it is. … read more »