There’s an association in Paris called the Académie Rabelais whose mission, as stated in their by-laws, is to “Encourage among its members and their friends joie de vivre, optimism, good humor, indulgence, gaiety, the spirit of friendship and of remembrance, and respect for the principles of Master François Rabelais: laughing, irony, wisecracking, joyful singing, le gai savoir, eating well and drinking well.”

Reading that mission statement, I thought, “Now there’s a party I’d like to attend!” And so I did, though we didn’t call it a party. We called it lunch with Bruno Carlhian, author of an excellent guide to owner-operated Paris wine bistros, and several members of the Académie Rabelais, under whose auspices the book was published.

La Tournée des Patrons is the clever title of Bruno’s guide. La tournée—the round or round-up—refers to both a round-up of bistro-keepers—des patrons—and the round on the house that owners might offer their clients. In selecting the 100 eatery-drinkeries included in the book, Bruno sought out “authentic” bistros (quotation marks in the original), which he defines as individually owned establishments open throughout the day (i.e. not just at mealtime) and that have a café/bar counter. Fresh, homecooked food is de rigueur, but most important is the presence and personality of the bistro-keeper, one who knows his wine.

A criminal defense attorney, a gallery owner and a contractor walk into a bistro

That’s not the opening of a joke but the start of a cheerful afternoon since they were the three fellow academy members to join Bruno and me at Le Guersant, a bistro on the western edge of Paris, in the 17th arrondissement. Bruno himself is a journalist specialized in food, wine, gastronomy and agribusiness. I’d asked him to choose the bistro for our lunchtime interview.

There’s no mistaking the atmosphere of a neighborhood bistro when you enter shortly before 1pm: several people are standing at the bar counter with a glass of wine or beer or a demitasse; someone behind the bar, who may or may not be the owner, looks up from his or her task to return your ecumenical Bonjour messieurs-dames with a Bonjour, monsieur; beyond the bar there’s a room with few if any empty seats, where a server, who may or may not be the owner, twists through narrow passages between tables or chairs carrying a thick pork chop and potato purée and a square of beef and frites or some such homey dishes; on nearly every table there’s a bottle or at least glasses of wine in various stages of consumption, and you recognize your lunch companions at the far table by the window by their slight nod in your direction, even if you’ve never met them before.

In choosing Le Guersant, Bruno was nearly giving me a scoop. The jury that he presides over within the Académie Rabelais had recently decided that in the spring of 2025 Nicolas Gounse, the bistro’s proprietor, would receive the academy’s trophy La Coupe du Meilleur Pot. The trophy has been awarded annually since 1954 to a bistro-keeper in Paris or the near suburbs whose establishment does justice to the notion that bistro life is best served by the offering of the quality wines of independent growers, personally selected by that bistro-keeper. The trophy takes the form of a wooden box topped with the tin decoration of a cup, a bunch of grapes and a specific kind of bottle called a pot. A pot is a 46 cl vessel with a thick base into which wine from a barrel or from a larger bottle is poured.

It isn’t the wine list itself that’s honored with the trophy. As with the selections in La Tournée des Patrons, the Académie Rabelais pays homage to a bistro-keeper with the wherewithal, the personality and the dedication to operate a welcoming all-day bistro with a bar counter. The wines available have been personally selected by the bistro-keeper as opposed to checked off from a list in a wholesaler’s catalogue. “Quality wines of independent growers” does not mean expensive wines. These are, after all, unpretentious, everyday neighborhood bistros. In short, when it comes to wine, Nicolas Gounse and other winners of La Coupe du Meilleur Pot can talk the talk, without pretention, with the best of them. And from the way the conversation unfolded at Le Guersant over the next 2½ hours, I gathered that my table companions from the Académie Rabelais were among those best of them.

Acceptance into the Académie Rabelais

The Académie Rabelais’s origins date to the Second World War, when a group of writers, journalists and cartoonists who’d left Paris during the German Occupation began gathering in Lyon, which was then in France’s Unoccupied Zone. Guided by local gastro-insiders well acquainted with the keepers of bouchons, as the bistros of Lyon are known, the group began meeting over food and wine. Progressively, as the German Gestapo took anchor in Lyon, those wartime gatherings came to an end. They were revived post-war, in 1948, at Château Thivin in the Beaujolais wine region near Lyon, where the group formalized their association as the Académie Rabelais. Refer to the opening lines of this article for the academy’s humanist mission. Among other events and outings, the academy gathers for dinner three times per year as well for one weekend in a wine region, where they meet winegrowers and restaurant owners.

Nicolas Plescoff, the gallerist at the table, a specialist in 20th-century art and sculpture, has been the academy’s president for the past seven years. In recounting the academy’s history, he said that in the early 2000s membership underwent a significant change as the elder members from the press fell away and more recent arrivals worked in a variety of professional fields.

The group’s by-laws, which allow for a maximum of 50 members (there are current 46), don’t specifically exclude women, but as yet none has been admitted. Potential members are co-opted through personal relationships, not through blind application. Once recommended by a friend, colleague or family member, a candidate must first be accepted as an intern or apprentice. As such, he is expected to attend academy events for a full year in order to become familiar with its spirit, culture and members, and its members with him. After that year, the board gives an initial stamp of approval (or not) to the intern/apprentice whose candidature is then put before the full membership for a final vote.

With the academy no longer dominated by members of the press—in fact, there are now more lawyers among them—Nicolas Plescoff favors a membership represented by a wide variety of professional fields. As with many aging associations, the academy has difficulty recruiting younger members. He’s therefore is pleased that the academy recently co-opted a 27-year-old who works in the wine trade.

As to admitting women, he said that perhaps the next generation will be more accepting of the possibility, but for now there’s general agreement that the Académie Rabelais should remain an all-men’s club. Members don’t spend their time together making misogynistic or crude comments, he explained, but men change their behavior when their wives or other women are around, which would alter the spirit of the academy.

While the academy doesn’t admit women, make no mistake about it: the contemporary Parisian neighborhood bistro as a cultural institution is not a men’s club. At some times of the day and at some meals, men may indeed outnumber women in a neighborhood bistro, but women can and do enjoy a meal there with equal joy or warmth or indulgence. (Stay tuned for an upcoming article about bistro gals. As a teaser, I note that the president of one bistro-going women’s group told me that one reason they don’t admit men is the annoyance of dealing with mansplaining.)

The Académie Rabelais literary prize

While companionability, wine and gregarious service define a restaurant outing with members of the Académie Rabelais, the academy lives up to the literary side of its name. I refrain from calling any of its members “intellectuals.” In other settings, some of them may be. But once, while discussing books at a bistro bar counter, I made the mistake of referring to a stranger with whom I’d recently clinked glasses as an “intellectual” and I nearly got thrown into the gutter for it. In Paris bistro life, I’ve learned, you can refer to a well-read fellow as a philosopher, an artist, a professor, a wisecracker, even a prince or a fool, but call him an intellectual at your own risk and peril. Pas de ça ici, mon vieux! Suffice it to say that a clever, incisive, humanist spirit and a wealth of knowledge on assorted matters including human nature go a long way toward getting you accepted—if not to the academy, then at least to their companionship and to entertaining conversation in a Paris neighborhood bistro.

A jury within the academy awards an annual literary prize, the Prix de l’Académie Rabelais, to the author of a work of fiction or non-fiction displaying Rabelasian spirit, meaning a work that includes a good dose of irreverent humor, and, of course, wine. Appropriate works, according to the lawyer at our table, are hard to come by, what with all the navel gazing and humorlessness of French literature over the past few decades.

The winner of the 2024 literary prize was Laure Gasparotto for “Si tu veux la paix, prepare le vin” (If You Want Peace, Prepare Wine). The 2023 winner was Charles Senard for “Carpe diem – Petite initiation à la sagesse épicurienne” (Carpe Diem – A Little Initiation to Epicurian Wisdom). The winner receives 50 bottles of Beaujolais wine. Descriptions of the prize-winning books over the years can be found here.

Acceptance into Paris bistro life

Anyone, including non-French-speaking visitors, can take a seat in the dining room of a neighborhood bistro or lean into its bar counter to observe bistro life. Participating in it is another matter. That, according to Nicolas Plescoff, entails being accepted by the keeper of the house or his staff. Beyond the courteous tone of your entrance, newcomers, he said, will quickly be judged by what they order. Margins are tights, so “if you order only an appetizer and a glass of tap water during crowded mealtime,” he said, “you shouldn’t be surprised if you aren’t well received. You’re nearly obligated to order an appetizer, a main course, dessert and wine.” Though our table followed that recommendation and then some, that bona fide exchange of good will is certainly not an actual obligation. Three courses may be one too many for some appetites, which is why the lunch menu is often priced for an appetizer + a main course OR a main course + dessert.

Drinking alcohol is, of course, never an obligation. Yet, for those who do enjoy a glass or two, the following wine advice that Nicolas Plescoff provided is well worth considering: “To be accepted in a neighborhood bistro, first order a glass of white wine as an aperitif.”

“Un verre de vin blanc, s’il vous plaît” (A glass of white wine, please) as the easy-to-recall password to taking part in Paris bistro life? I’ve tried it. It does go far to initiating a conversation with the owner or server (what type of white wine would you’d like? dry, fruity, etc.) and lets that person know that you’re willing to spend a few extra euros at the table. “Un verre de beaujolais blanc, s’il vous plaît,” might further indicate that you’ve got some connoisseur’s cred.

It would be ill-mannered of me to note the quantity of wine consumed at our table during our lengthy lunch. I’ll just say that Nicolas Gounse guided us on a lilting viticultural tour de France. We may not have been typical clients—after all, more than familiar faces here, my table companions had recently notified him of the honor they were bestowing with La Coupe du Meilleur Pot—nevertheless, it was clear to me that we weren’t the only ones in the room in trotting conversation, eating and drinking to great satisfaction. Others around the room appeared to be doing the same. It wasn’t a party atmosphere but, more “authentically,” the ambience of an unhurried lunchtime break from whatever appointments or obligations lay to either side of the meal, in other words of a neighborhood bistro at lunchtime.

I was in no rush to leave. Still, at 2:15 on a Thursday afternoon, after 90 minutes of easy-going conviviality, I expected that any minute now one of my tablemates would state that he had to get back to work and the rest of us would then grudgingly agree. Another 30 minutes passed. Then one of the academicians called Nicolas Gounse over to the table. I was sure that it was to ask him to prepare the bill, or at least to bring coffee. Instead, he asked where we should travel next on our seated tour de France.

Drinking vs. excessive drinking

Bistro, in France, implies that alcohol is served. Wine bistro emphasizes the place of the wine selection there but is not to be confused with a wine bar. In theory, a dry bistro is possible, in the same way that admitting female members into the Académie Rabelais is possible.

Excessive drinking—or drinking at all—isn’t directly encouraged by the bistro-keepers that I’ve come to know. At a neighborhood bistro or wine bistro, selling alcohol does help with the bottom line; turning a profit might even depend on the sale of alcohol, as with many restaurants. The theoretical dry bistro would therefor have an economic challenge in France, perhaps overcome by serving lots of bubble tea.

“Wine is a part of our culture,” said Nicolas Plescoff, referring to both France and the academy. “But we aren’t an association of drunks. It’s important to maintain a certain standing. True, our dinners tend to be well served in wine. Perhaps we drink more than the national average, but we drink good wine.”

Nicolas Gounse, our host here, recognizes that wine is a part of daily life for some clients, the way cigarettes may be. Wine is a part of the culture (and one is free to argue that it shouldn’t be) but, wine or no wine, sociability is a primary aspect of the neighborhood bistro (le bistro de quartier). Without sociability (or refuge so for the solitary), there’d be no reason to qualify it as neighborhood (de quartier). Yes, drink does play a role here, though it would be incorrect to peg a neighborhood Paris bistro today, such as Le Guersant, which is open throughout the day, or the selections in La Tournée des Patrons, as primarily drinking establishments or as places for a teetotaler to avoid. Above all, for readers of these lines, they should be seen as important glimpses into local or neighborhood culture.

Frequent consumption or over-consumption of alcohol may be a societal problem, but it isn’t not specific to wine bistros. In what may come off as a form of apology, I note that, fortunate for Parisians, those who have a glass or two or more in a wine bistro or any other type of eatery-drinkery, or at private party for that matter, typically leave on foot or take public transportation rather than get behind the wheel of a car. Getting behind the wheel of a bicycle or scooter is the more likely danger.

I pace myself well as bottles accumulate on the table. I may slow down or, if necessary, put my hand over the glass to announce that I’ve had enough as the circulating bottle tips my way. I nevertheless don’t hesitate to accept, as I did here, a bistro-keeper’s parting shot of grappa, cognac, calvados, or plum or pear brandy when it arrives with the bill or at the bar counter on the way out. I may not finish the small pour, and some of what’s offered may be rotgut, but I won’t refuse what is essentially a gift of acceptance, la tournée du patron. Again, no obligation.

The deeper I’ve gotten into Paris bistro life over the past year, the more I’ve come to appreciate Bruno Carlhian’s selections in La Tournée des Patrons. While Bruno and his fellow academicians more than hold their own in knowing and enjoying good cuisine, and while they do expect fresh and seasonal ingredients, the quality of the food is not primary in selections for the book or for La Coupe du Meilleur Pot, as it might be for a culinary guide or award. Nevertheless, I vouch for the quality (and the quantity) of my three courses (30€) at Le Guersant: poireaux mimosa, côte de cochon + purée, crème caramel.

I can certainly understand the selection of Nicolas Gousne as recipient for the 2025 Coupe du Meilleur Pot, And I can well imagine the pleasure of being a regular or occasional client at Le Guersant. Alas, it’s across the city from me.

Altogether, a terrific neighborhood bistro and a delectable encounter with Rabelaisian bistro buddies, creators of a gargantuan guide to wine bistros.

Le Guersant, 30 bd Gouvrion-Saint-Cyr, 17th arr. Open Monday through Friday from 9am to 11pm. Nicolas Gounse, proprietor. A successful bistro-keeper naturally needs a good right-hand man or woman. Here, Nicolas is primarily assisted by Romain Gastel, with whom he also worked in other bistros for a dozen years before taking over Le Guersant in 2022.

The bistro is a 10-minute walk from the hotels Hyatt Regency Paris Etoile and the Meridien Etoile at Porte Maillot.

La Tournée des Patrons. Text by Bruno Carlhian, photographs by Gabriel Omnès, drawings by Gab. 20€. The current edition (2023) is an update of first edition from 2016. The academy plans to next update the book in 2026.

La Coupe du Meilleur Pot. See here for a map showing the location of the establishments whose owner has received La Coupe du Meilleur Pot over the years, along with other Académie Rabelais recommendations, many of which appear in La Tournée des Patrons.

For other articles in the Paris Bistro Life series, see here.

© 2025, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Paris Bistro Life: Le Guersant, Wine Bistros and the Académie Rabelais appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Non-members stop by the bistro for morning coffee or a pre-lunch aperitif, unaware of the planned, informal gathering of the Joyeux Mâchonneurs. But they might as well be a part of the group as Hervé slices off chunks of headcheese to offer them a taste. Headcheese and coffee? Maybe. Headcheese and wine? Sure.

Tristan Olphe-Galliard arrives with a bottle of wine that he sets on the counter as his contribution to the morning gathering of the Joyeux Mâchonneurs. Before sharing the wine, though, he shares the story of why he’s arrived later than planned: The mechanism to open the door to his building was stuck, so to get out he had to crawl like a thief from the window of a neighbor’s apartment. And he definitely can’t stay with us past lunch, he says, since he has to… Right.

He’s brought a red Mentou-Salon, a cousin to Sancerre, from the eastern winegrowing area of the Loire Valley. A brief explanation is enough—this is a social gathering, not an informational assembly. It’s easy-drinking wine, a pinot noir of the cherry-tinged kind. Tristan is an ambassador for the network of Bistrots Beaujolais, bistros which are themselves ambassadors for Beaujolais wines or at least have some on their wine list. He’s also a freelance photographer, as well as a member of the Francs-Mâchons, a non-profit association with a natural affinity to the Joyeux Mâchonneurs but more organized and with a distinct appetite for Beaujolais wines. But Triston is only partially on duty this morning; not duty enough that he feels obliged to bring a Beaujolais to this gathering but dutiful enough to invite me to meet him here to discuss my plan to visit some of his Bistrots Beaujolais over the next two months. Research.

But first things first. The barman opens the bottle.

You don’t need to be a member of the Joyeux Mâchonneurs to attend the Tuesday morning gathering. You don’t have to eat pig. You don’t even have to arrive joyeux, though hopefully you’ll leave that way. All you have to do is bring something sharable to eat or drink (keep it simple) or else buy a(n inexpensive) bottle of wine at the bar. And, no, the point is not to go on a pre-noon bender. It’s enough to toast with a sip or two—a bistro glass is small anyway. It’s the spirit that’s generous, not the pour. You can put your hand over your glass in refusal at any time (though it will likely be filled as soon as you look away). Seriously, order coffee if you like.

Bistro life

The word bistrot (with a final t in French) encompasses a range of restaurants and eatery-drinkeries that emphasize traditional French food and wine. In English-speaking countries, bistro may carry an air of pretention, which doesn’t belong in France. At its heart, the French bistro (let’s leave out the t here) is an unpretentious neighborhood gathering place for traditional, homemade food and inexpensive drink. “Traditional, home-made food” itself can vary within limits and budgets. And in the relatively wealthy city of Paris, “unpretentious” is itself a term that’s up for grabs, while “inexpensive” will depend on the neighborhood. In any case, a bistro should feel down-home rather than upscale, even those that attract an upmarket crowd.

In terms of opening hours, there are two types of bistros: a bistro that’s open only for lunch and dinner, i.e. a bistro as restaurant alone, and an eatery-drinkery bistro, such as Le Vaudésir, where food is served at specific hours yet one can enter throughout the day for liquid nourishment (and, if you’re a regular or ask kindly, maybe someone can make you a sandwich or give you some headcheese or a hard-boiled egg). I’ve met with Tristan this morning in soliciting his help constituting a list of the latter kind of bistro, the historic but not necessarily bygone bistrot de quartier, the neighborhood eatery-drinkery bistro. The archetype of a neighborhood bistro such as Le Vaudésir serves a social function as a gathering place, an outlet for extroverts, a refuge for the lonely, escape from your spouse or kids, comic relief for the observer, a place where a regular is recognized, etc.

In the densely populated and much-visited city of Paris, “neighborhood” doesn’t mean that the patrons all live within three blocks of the bistro. At lunchtime, neighborhood bistros are frequented by those who work in the area but live elsewhere. And the dinner crowd may be a mix of neighborhood residents, Parisians with a city-wide vision of dining out casually, and travelers staying in nearby hotels.

The neighborhood bistro of the eatery-drinkery kind may not have Bistrot written in its name or on its awning. Even a café or a brasserie or a meat-and-potatoes/sausage-and-lentils dive can be considered the local bistro if it serves an unpretentious social function (gathering place, refuge, escape, etc.) and presents the other elements associated with the bistrot de quartier: traditional cuisine and cheap or modestly-priced drink, conviviality, a changeable atmosphere morning to night, and a smattering or more of Joyeux Mâchoneurs or their like. Just as Joyeux Mâchoneurs by any other name would be just as joyeux, a bistro by any other name would be just as … bistro.

I’ve neglected to mention the other essential element to the type of bistro that I’ve come looking for: an on-site owner. Not just any on-site owner, but an on-site owner as conductor, MC, security guard, arbitrator, sphinx, ultimate judge, merchant and boss. He may stand stoically on the raised platform of the bar as he surveils the room. He may join in the banter of his regulars. He may raise a glass with others. He knows his regulars. He knows when to be wary and when to be welcoming. At Le Vaudésir, he’s Christophe Hantz.

By the bar counter there’s a list of names and dates of owners at this site since 1896, beginning with a certain Forestier, who sold wine. For much of the first half of the 20th century, coal and wood were also sold here. (The second room, behind the bar, is where they were stored.) In 1993, the owner at the time renamed the bistro Le Vaudésir, after one of the seven “climats” of Chablis Grand Cru. Vaudésir Chablis was still a relatively inexpensive at the time, but it’s now too pricey to belong on the selection here. Christophe has been at the helm of Le Vaudésir since 2001.

Michelle Steiner, the chef he hired that year, joins us for a drink before returning to the kitchen to make final preparations for lunch service. “Christophe and I are like an old couple that’s never copulated,” she says. Christophe isn’t yet around to give his take on their relationship.

La Fête du Livre Bistrot at Le Vaudésir

There is no off-the-beaten track in Paris; there are just streets we haven’t yet ventured down and doors we haven’t yet opened or times of day or night that we haven’t yet been there. So it isn’t to go off the beaten track that I’ve returned late the same day by taking the train to Denfert-Rochereau, walking 10 minutes south, and turning left onto rue Dareau. The street leads film-noir-like to a door beneath the railroad tracks. The first room is so crowded that I can’t even push open the door. I enter through the second door a few yards further down. No, I haven’t gone off the beaten track to make my way back to Le Vaudésir this evening; I’ve come to attend the Fête du Livre Bistrot, a celebration of books about bistros, their authors, and, above all, bistros themselves.

Not all Parisians go in for such places, as the diminishing numbers of restaurant-bar-café bistros show. They’re too old-fashioned for some; the cooking isn’t contemporary enough for others; they prefer to mingle elsewhere, differently or with a younger crowd; if there’s a squat-toilet that may not be to everyone’s liking. “Local” itself may have lost its significance for those who prefer screen time. The foreign visitor may be intimidated to stand at the counter with piliers de bar (literally bar pillars, i.e. barflies) or sitting elbow-to-elbow at a table beside animated strangers in unintelligible conversation. No, the atmosphere of the eatery-drinky neighborhood bistro isn’t for everyone.

But it is for everyone here this evening, chatting with each other and with the authors, purchasing books, examining the works of two photographers, drinking the Saint Pourçain wines brought by the producer who’s serving them at the bar, reaching for the plate of headcheese and pâté on the bar counter. Tristan is here, Hervé is here, and so are other members of the Joyeux Mânchonneurs.

I speak with the winegrower of the Saint Pourçain as he serves me a glass. The wine is free this evening. Christophe is also behind the bar. I say hello. He raises his glass and offers his infectious smile, though he may or may not recognize me.

I chat with Alain Fontaine, owner of Le Mesturet, in the 2nd arrondissement. Le Mesturet’s awning reads Bar à Vins and Restaurant but it’s bistro enough for me. Alain spearheads a non-profit association whose mission is to promote and defend the idea that the art de vivre of bistros and traditional cafés of France deserve recognition as “intangible cultural heritage.” He says that foreign visitors, Americans in particular, are more prominent supporters for bistro life than the French themselves. (Perhaps, I think, because we like a good cliché or because we don’t have these at home.) Earlier this year he hosted at Le Mesturet a launch part for Café Society: Time Suspended, the Cafés & Bistros of Paris, a collection of photographs by Joanie Osburn, a frequent visitor to Paris from San Francisco. I tell him that I’ll be stopping by Le Mesturet to speak with him soon in the context of my own research. Whenever you want, he replies.

I run into free-spirited food writer and guide Guillaume Le Roux, whom I knew from restaurant press events a dozen years ago and haven’t seen since. We recognize each other immediately, briefly catch up, and promise to get together soon.

I speak at length with historian Laurent Bihl, author of Une histoire populaire des bistrots and gladly weigh myself down by purchasing his 800-page book.

I greet Gérard Letailleur, author of “Histoire insolite des cafés parisiens” and “Si Montmartre et La Bonne Franquette nous étaient contés,” whom I’d previously met at Aux Sportifs Réunis-Chez Walczak, a historic bistro in the 15th arrondissement.

I nod to Pierrick Bourgault who’s in intense discussion with someone interested in his work as a photographer and writer. Patrick explores his love and appreciation for bistros in both non-fiction and fiction. Among other publications, he’s the author of Au bonheur des bistrots,  which pays homage through photographs to the men and women who run countryside cafés, and the novel Journal d’un café de campagne. We’d previously met at the unmissable La Bonne Franquette at the top of Montmartre.

I meet Benjamin Berline, who’s part of the team working with well-known French food writer Gilles Pudlowski. He gives me a copy of the 2023 edition of the Petit Pudlo des Bistrots, a booklet that brings together 107 recommendable Parisian bistros (with an introduction by Alain Fontaine).

I find Tristan outside and thank him for setting me on my way for my bistro research. I tell him I’ll see him soon. (Though Tristan and I don’t run in the same circles we do manage to cross paths often.) I tell him I’m leaving. He says that he’ll be leaving soon too. Right.

Le Vaudésir, 41 rue Dareau, 14th arrondissement. Metro Saint-Jacques or Metro/RER Denfert-Rochereau. Closed Monday evening, Saturday lunch, Sunday. Cash only.

© 2023 by Gary Lee Kraut

The post An Introduction to Paris Bistro Life: Le Vaudésir appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Let’s talk about your Champagne education. No, not the neighborly kind offered at your local wine shop. Nor the delightful kind that you can get on a wine bar tour with me in Paris. I’m talking about the well-advised independent kind that a curious traveler—you—can get by visiting the vine-growing area and production zone of the world’s most famous sparkling wine. Yes, I’m talking about your Champagne daytrip or overnight.

For most destinations in the Champagne wine region your coursework on the making and variety of tastes and styles of Champagne requires a road vehicle, whether a rental car, a taxi, a car service or an organized car/van/bus tour—in any case a designated driver.

Let’s say that you’re either setting out from Paris or heading to the Champagne region directly after arriving at Charles de Gaulle Airport. A driving tour can start with the Marne Valley producers around Chateau-Thierry, a zone where pinot meunier vines dominate or by going directly to the heart of the region that lies between and within the two capitals of Champagne: Reims, the historic regional capital, and Epernay, the capital of bubbly itself. Beyond Epernay there’s the Côte des Blancs, especially known for the prestigious chardonnay grapes that grow in its chalky soil. Then there’s the lesser traveled southern portion of the growing area in the department of Aube, specifically the Côte des Bar, with its much-desired pinot noir vineyards.

Each of those areas has its particularities and benefits as destinations to enjoy and learn about Champagne. But how to obtain a good Champagne education without a car or driver? Château-Thierry and Reims are reached easily enough by train, but for the former you then need to hit the road to get credits for your survey course, and for the latter you’d be one weary (though probably happy) foot traveler if you didn’t call for some kind of transportation during the day.

Epernay is the DIY Champagne destination with the best car-free outlook, whether on a daytrip or an overnight.

Not only can a sparkling excursion to Epernay be car-free but carefree as well since little logistical planning is necessary. Most days you can even purchase your train ticket at the last minute at Paris’s East Station, Gare de l’Est, for the one hour and twenty- or thirty-minute ride to Epernay. Greater planning is necessary to climb the Eiffel Tower or visit the Louvre than to explore Epernay on a daytrip.

From the Epernay station, your entire learning campus can easily be covered on foot. Within one mile of the station, you can visit any of a dozen Champagne producers, examine a terrific museum that’s dedicated to regional archeology and the wines of Champagne, see the former mansions of Champagne merchants, and have a choice of restaurants, Champagne bars, pastry shops, and cafés. You can even rise 492 feet in a tethered balloon or climb a 217-foot tower for a view over the valley and out to the vineyards. All within one mile of the train station.

The agro-industrial business of Champagne production dominates in Epernay (pop. 23,000), so if you’re a single-minded traveler looking for an intensive introduction, continuing education or master class in Champagne—without recourse to a car—read on.

Avenue de Champagne

The essential strolling grounds for a visit to Epernay is Avenue de Champagne, Champagne Avenue. Sparnaciens, as local citizens are called, like to tell visitors from the capital that Avenue de Champagne is the Champs-Elysées of Epernay. Indeed, there’s just as much branding going on. But there’s also deep know-how along, around and beneath Avenue de Champagne. Epernay has nearly 70 miles of cellars underfoot, holding about 200 million bottles of bubbly. The avenue is bordered by the former mansions of Champagne merchants, many of them dating from the 19th century. They’re mostly on the left side as you rise the avenue, while on the right side are production facilities, with plenty of Champagne know-how and marketing expertise on both sides of the street. All of that allows Avenue de Champagne to be among the elements that entered UNESCO’s World Heritage List under the title “Champagne Hillsides, Houses and Cellars.”

You can easily spend half a day or more along the first half-mile of the avenue. Thanks to its many opportunities to learn, see and taste, Champagne Avenue could be your sole destination on a train excursion from Paris. Yet you’ll undoubtedly also enjoy a walkabout in the compact heart of the town with its bakeries, pastry shops, restaurants, cafés and tasting rooms.

The Epernay Tourist Office, at 7 avenue de Champagne, is conveniently located near the bottom of the avenue, so it can be your first stop on arrival. Reservations are recommended to visit a production facility and cellars, especially on busy weekends and in summer, but it’s also possible decide on an Epernay daytrip on a whim, in which case the tourist office can help direct you to an available cellar tour. Your Champagne curriculum calls for at least one such tour, particularly if you aren’t aware of the grapes, their classification and the Champagne method. Other than a formal tour, tasting opportunities are easy to come by, both on the avenue and in the heart of town.

Beyond the tourist office, the first major former mansion you’ll come upon was built for the Auban-Moët family in the second half of the 19th century. You may not know the Aubans but you’ve certainly heard of the Moëts, as in Moët & Chandon, whose installations can be visited right across the street. The mansion has served as City Hall since right after the First World War, which explains the monument to war dead that greets visitors entering on its avenue side. The estate’s park (feel free to enter) has a near replica of the Temple of Love that stands in the Trianon park at Versailles. (When arriving by train, you can actually cut through the park to reach Avenue de Champagne.)

Château Perrier: The Museum of Champagne Wine and Regional Archeology

A 3-minute walk further up the avenue you’ll come to the Château Perrier, an eclectic and ostentatious 96-room mansion built in the 1850s by local architect Pierre-Eugène Cordier for Charles Perrier, heir to the Perrier-Jouët Champagne House. The Perrier-Jouët cellars are partly beneath the mansion. They were dug to connect directly with the railway line that had been inaugurated in 1849. The estate was purchased by the Town of Epernay in 1943 to house its museum collections and library. Closed in 1998 for massive rethinking, reorganization and eventually restoration, it reopened in 2021 as the Museum of Champagne Wine and Regional Archeology.

If arriving by train in the morning, consider the museum as your first stop before lunch or a visit one of the Champagne Houses.

I know, I know, you’ve come for cool bubbles not for a dry museum. But let your curiosity draw you inside. First, to admire the grand staircase and the gold-leaf décor of the ground-floor reception rooms and to take in the view out to the park of Château Perrier and beyond the Marne River to the vine-planted slopes of the Mountain of Reims. Then it’s on to the geology section. Geology? What’s that got to do with my Champagne education? As with all prestigious wine regions, an awful lot! Just ask the roots of the vines and the minerality in your glass. An awareness of the formation of the region’s chalky sub-soil here is an integral part of your Champagne education as is, naturally, the section on winemaking that comes later. Yet the most fascinating part of the museum is the archeology collection (choice Neolithic, Celtic and Roman finds), one of the largest in France. The informative audio-guide, available in English, is especially useful in viewing that section.

Musée du vin de Champagne et d’Archéologie régionale, 13 avenue de Champagne, Epernay. Entrance (includes audio-guide): 9€, 6€ for ages 13 to 25, free for under 13. Closed Tues.

Continuing along the avenue and nearby

Among the most accessible producers for tours and tastings are Moët & Chandon, de Venoge and Boizel on the primary strolling portion of Avenue de Champagne; Alfred Gratien, Jacquinot & Fils and de Castellane on nearby streets, and Mercier and Comtesse Lafond beyond the first half mile of the avenue. Others are further afield but also reachable on foot (e.g. Charles Mignon on the opposite side of town). Still others allow you to pursue your education in their tasting room or bar, e.g. A. Bergère, Leclerc Briant, Elodie D., Les 3 Domaines (which presents the wines of three winemakers).

Whichever you visit, enjoy a stroll along the mannerly first half-mile of Avenue de Champagne to view the mansions and villas along the way. Don’t hesitate to enter an open gate and to inquiry about the bubbly of a producer you may never have heard of.

One of those that I visited on my recent overnight to Epernay was Champagne Boizel. I asked Lionel Boizel, who oversees the Champagne house with his brother Florent, to give readers a virtual tasting. His presentation of three Boizel Champagnes follows my introduction in this video.

Eventually, at a round-about, you’ll come to the turn-off toward the de Castellane Champagne House on the left and the Mercier facility built in the 1980s on the right. Mercier is a major producer with a family-friendly cellar tour. De Castellane, along with its own cellar tour, welcomes visitors of all ages able to climb the tower’s 237 steps for a view over the town and along the River Marne and out to the vineyards along the slopes of the southern side of the hill known as the Mountain of Reims. For an alternative or additional overview, you can lift off (weather permitting) in a tethered balloon (you’ll see it near the start of the avenue) while sipping a glass of bubbly at just under 500 feet.

Develop your Champagne curriculum freestyle

Obtaining a proper Champagne education when in Epernay or anywhere in the winegrowing region requires getting beyond the branding and the marketing in order to truly taste and understand the variety of sparkling wines called Champagne.

Major brands do dominate the avenue, including major assets within the LVMH wine portfolio, while smaller family-operated and independent producers also have a presence. All can be enjoyable and instructive. If you do opt to visit a big-brand producer, also visit one that’s lesser known or unknown to you. There are thousands of different Champagnes available, so try to discover what defines your taste and style.

Did you say thousands? Yes, I did.

There are nearly 370 producers known as Champagne “houses,” those that control the resources requires for their own production and market internationally. (See here for more detailed definition of a Champagne house.) These houses represent more than two-thirds of Champagne sales and more than 85% of exports. Each has its own style or styles and produces a range of sparkling wines. Many are referred to as grandes marques (big-brand) producers but of the 370 you may have only heard of how many? Six? Maybe a dozen tops? Some are small, even tiny. Most of the world knows Champagne through the marketing and availability of just a few dozen of the houses.

Here in France, however, we naturally have more access to the varied world of Champagne. Beyond those few dozen and beyond producers designated as “houses,” there are dozens of cooperatives marketing Champagne and hundreds of independent producers, and grapes are grown by more than 16,000 growers. Some producers without a presence on Avenue de Champagne have shops in town where you can get acquainted with their winemaking craftsmanship. (In Epernay you won’t necessarily come across all of the major brands that you’d find at home. Reims is the other major hub for international brands.) If you only focus on brand—even if your choices are limited at home—without tasting a great many, you risk being a sparkling wine snob, proclaiming admiration for a favorite brand without being able to explain why. Better to be a sparkling wine snob with the knowledge to back it up, whether you’ve got a favorite brand or not.

Just think how impressed your friends will be when you say, “I tend to like a Champagne that’s 50% pinot noir and 50% chardonnay, with no more than 5 grams of sugar. At least with certain hors d’oeuvres. As a straight aperitif I prefer a blanc de blancs. But I did once encounter a charming pinot meunier rosé that I’ve been looking for ever since. Of course, I’ll be happy with whatever you’re serving—I do like a good Champagne.”

Well, maybe your friends won’t be impressed, but I will.

In the town center, a few blocks from the start of Avenue de Champagne, the wine bar and shop Les Grands Vins de France can serve as a beyond-the-brand Champagne education in and of itself or a good place for your final exam. Ask for a tasting according to grape variety and/or sugar content to find your preference, then ask for the brands that correspond with that preference.

Use your time in Epernay to visits several producers, whether glitzy and earthy, mineral or fruity, from different areas of the region, for blanc de blancs, blanc de noirs, blended (and in various percentages), rosé, with varying amounts of added sugar, from this part of the vine-growing region or another, with some oak-barrel ageing or (more likely) not, organic, biodynamic or whatever, vintage or not.

Do I have to drink all of those for coursework? Certainly not. Drink with moderation, of course, and pace yourself. You don’t have to finish every glass. But isn’t it reassuring to know that you won’t be driving today and are unlikely to get lost in a town this size?

Which reminds me of something my friend Guillaume once said when we were leaving a wine fair in Paris: “How much wine can you really drink without just wanting a beer?” A lot, was my answer. But if a member of your travel group is anything like Guillaume, note that Epernay has a craft brewery, Tête de Chou, 1 bis avenue Foch, a 10-minute walk from the center. It may sound sinful to mention beverages with bubbles other than those in Champagne if you’ve come this far, but there you have it, craft beer served in the brewer’s taproom Thurs.-Sat. 5:30PM to midnight.

A pink pastry break: le moelleux champenois

Personally, I’d seek out pastry in Epernay before looking for beer. As a break from Champagne tasting (or to accompany it), Epernay and the surrounding region offer the opportunity to enjoy a pastry or cake that you won’t find elsewhere. It’s called the moelleux champenois. Moelleux means soft and champenois means from Champagne. The soft pastry from Champagne is therefore a nod the dry harder pink biscuits (aka Champagne biscuits or pink biscuits of Reims) that are traditionally associated with high tea Champagne and after-dinner delicacy.

In 2019 by a group of six boulangers-pâtissiers belonging to the Bakery Federation of the Marne came together in an effort to create a pastry that would be distinctly regional. The result is the moelleux champenois, made of eggs, sugar, almond, butter, flour, marc de Champagne (a brandy made from the residue of Champagne wine grapes after pressing), baking powder, with crumbled pink biscuit on top (egg whites, sugar, flour, baking powder, coloring). Only members of the Bakery Federation are authorized to use the recipe to make moelleux champenois under that name. Currently, about 40 do. On our trip, it made for a nice pairing with de Castellane rosé both for taste and for color, but it also goes well with coffee or tea.

Ours was actually a triple pairing of moelleux champenois, De Castellane rosé and an encounter with Loïc Maingre, who was among the original development team for the pastry. He and his wife Céline operate the pastry shop Au Bonheur des Papilles. 31 Rue de la Porte Lucas, on the western edge of the inner town. Closed Wed. and Thurs.

Maingre explained that since pink (Champagne) biscuits have long shelf-life, the Bakery Federation wanted to create something that did as well. The moelleux champenois, he said, has a shelf-life of 11 days, but I can’t imagine anyone holding onto one for very long. Immediate consumption is more like it, especially if you purchase an individual portion (3.50€) but even a full cake (13€) if traveling with friends. (Admittedly, I did hold on to one individual portion to enjoy with breakfast two days later when back home in Paris.)

As to the recipe for pink biscuits, Vincent Dallet, a well-known pastry chef and chocolatier in Epernay (who is not among the group making moelleux champenois), shared it with me for this article a while back.

Restaurants and Eateries

La Banque, 40 rue du Général Leclerc. In a former bank building, a polished and classy brasserie, well situated for either lunch or dinner. Open daily.

La Cave de l’Avenue, 5 avenue de Champagne. An easy-going restaurant at lunchtime and a wine bar after 6PM, La Cave belongs to the Bergère family, owners of Champagne A. Bergère. Closed Sun. and Mon. While the restaurant and wine bar naturally serve the family Champagne, a cellar tour and formal tasting can be had further up the avenue at #40.

La Cave à Champagne, 16 rue Gambetta. An Epernay institution for hearty traditional fare. Closed Tues. and Wed.

Le Théâtre, 8 place Mendès France. Traditional gastronomy by the theater at the circle near the train station. Closed Wed. as well as evenings Tues. and Sun.

There are numerous easy-going options for a meal or a snack in the compact town center, including bakeries, cafés and pizzerias.

Accommodations

There are three reasons that Epernay makes for a nice overnight for slow travelers: 1. To take a pre-dinner nap in your hotel or B&B after an afternoon of touring and tasting. 2. To enjoy a leisurely dinner (with more Champagne tasting) in town. 3. To take a genteel stroll along the avenue after nightfall.

Since this article concerns Epernay as a carless Champagne excursion, I’ve only selected accommodations that are within walking distance of the train station. Luxury accommodations and other worthy options are also found in the surrounding villages and by the vineyards.

Hotels

La Villa Eugène, 84 avenue de Champagne. Epernay’s only 5-star hotel, is located several hundred yards beyond the main stroll way of Avenue de Champagne, just past Mercier. It occupies a 19th-century mansion that once belonged to Eugène Mercier himself. Traditional rooms with a touch of elegance. Bar. Small outdoor heated pool. A wooded park behind the house. The hotel is a mile from the heart of the town and the train station, so while it isn’t far from the action, travelers on a car-free overnight may feel that they’re slightly off-center. Without discouraging a stay for Epernay-only foot travelers, I see this more as a place for settle in for two or more nights while also visiting the villages and vineyards in the vicinity with your own car or with a car service, taxi or organized tour.

Hotel Jean Moët, 7 rue Jean Moët, a well-situated 4-star in heart of town, a 4-minute walk from the train station, with a Champagne bar next door.

Hôtel de Champagne, 30 rue Eugène Mercier. A nice and simple inexpensive 3-star near the center of town, a 7-minute walk from the station.

Le Clos Raymi, 3 rue Joseph de Venoge. A 15-minute walk from the station, behind Avenue de Champagne, this pricier 3-star is a 7-room hotel of character in a 19-century mansion that once belonged to the Chandon family.

B&Bs

Epernay is actually more of a B&B destination for now, though not all will allow guests for only one night.

Le 25 Bis by Leclerc Briant, 25 bis avenue de Champagne, situated 500 yards up the avenue, about mid-way along the strolling zone. The Leclerc Briant Champagne house (200,000 bottles/year) has since 2012 been owned by the American couple Mark Nunnelly (from the world of finance) and Denise Dupré (from the world of hospitality management). They’re associated with Frédéric Zeimett, a French partner native to the region, for the production of their wines. The couple also owns the 5-star Royal Champagne hotel that overlooks the southern portion of the Mountain of Reims. Their chic B&B in Epernay has five large, formally elegant rooms and more service possibilities than a typical B&B. Priced accordingly. Options include taking over the entire house with a group of friends and, in that case, hiring a private chef, and, of course, a tour of the Leclerc Briant production headquarters which are situated on the western edge of Epernay where the vineyards begin.

Le Bubble 8, 8 rue des Berceaux, an excellent location on a calm street near restaurants, bars, bakeries and other shops, just a 3-minute walk from the start of Avenue de Champagne. Owner Pascale Lelong-Macra had a career in finance before purchasing the honorable solicitors’ Maison des Notaires and transforming it into five apartment B&Bs. The spacious, well-appointed studios and apartments with clean lines and character have kitchens or kitchenettes and so are especially adapted to a stay of several days or more. It’s nevertheless also a welcoming place for a short stay (there’s a 2-night minimum). Without the pretentions of a full-service B&B such as Le 25 Bis, Lelong-Macra’s son Clement is quite capable, with advance organization, of driving guests out to the villages and vineyards in the surrounding area for Champagne visits according to his itinerary or your own. (His is not a taxi service but a touring service for those staying at Le Bubble 8 and other apartments rentals managed by the family.)

Parva Domus, 27 avenue de Champagne. Parva domus magna quies is Latin for “small house, big rest,” which is what I enjoyed in the attic bedroom at Madame Rimaire’s plain, old-fashion, friendly B&B quietly located midway along the prestigious avenue, a 10-minute walk from the station. Magna Quies is the name of a sister B&B up the avenue at #49.

La Cave de l’Avenue, 5 avenue de Champagne, noted above as a lunchtime restaurant and evening wine bar belonging to the Bergère family (Champagne A. Bergère), is also a B&B with an excellent location for strolls day or night along Champagne Avenue and in the heart of Epernay.

Further logistical considerations

As I’ve said, a day trip to Epernay requires little advance planning, perhaps just a reservation for a cellar tour or two if you want and a hotel or B&B reservation if you intend to spend the night.

While this article is especially intended to describe an easy-walking, car-free Champagne excursion from Paris, whether as a day trip or an overnight, before returning to Paris, you can see on the map above its proximity to Reims, the historic capital of the Champagne region.

Nearly hourly trains link Epernay and Reims, a 35-minute ride to the opposite side of the Mountain of Reims. So after a day or overnight in Epernay it’s possible to continue car-free to visit the sights of Reims (cathedral, basilica, Roman arch, a great food market, and more) as well as tour other big-name Champagne houses (Taittinger, Ruinart, Pommery, Veuve Clicquot) with their impressive cellars occupying Gallo-Roman and medieval limestone quarries. As mentioned earlier, fully visiting Reims requires far more walking than in Epernay, but they are world-renown sights. From Reims you can catch a train back to Paris or continue eastward on a rail-based tour. It’s also possible to begin with a train to Reims (from either Paris or Charles de Gaulle Airport) before continuing on to Epernay then returning to Paris.

© 2022, Gary Lee Kraut

The post A Carless and Carefree Champagne Daytrip or Overnight to Epernay (Video) appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Oh, the people you’ll meet and the food and drink you’ll taste when you leave the main roads in Normandy! Is your destination Deauville, Honfleur and the Flowered Coast or is it Caen, Bayeux and the D-Day Landing Beaches? Either way, let’s veer off at Pont l’Evêque for several tastes of Pays d’Auge, Auge Country: cheese, beer and apple brandy. Second in this three-part series, beer (and cider).

Cidre–(hard) cider—is a pleasing, inexpensive, low-alcohol beverage that marries well with certain cheeses. Geography makes that especially true in Normandy since the region, known for its semi-soft cow cheeses, grows 60% of France’s cider apples. The tartness of cidre brut (cider with low added sugar) suits the strong nose of washed-rind Pont l’Evêque or Livarot, and it can also accompany Camembert de Normandie, while the latter and cidre demi-sec (semi-sweet cider) can also make for worthy companions at the end of a meal.

Within Normandy, Pays d’Auge—Auge Country, a swatch of rural greenery between the Flowered Coast (Honfleur to Cabourg) and Lisieux—is prime territory for apple orchards. The apples are used to make Cidre Pays d’Auge, one of a handful of cider appellations in Normandy, as well as Calvados Pay d’Auge, a double-distilled apple brandy.

So having visited Jérôme and Françoise Spruytte to learn about farm-made Pont l’Evêque cheese, a local-minded traveler might stop in at a Pays d’Auge cider producer or any grocery or beverage shop to pick up a bottle of cider to enjoy with a baguette and a square of Pont l’Evêque before seeking the picture postcard picnic spot: a seat by an apple tree with a Norman cow grazing nearby and a half-timbered house in the background.

But wait: Is that a microbrewery in the village of Le Breuil-en-Auge, a few miles from the Spruyttes’ farm? Yes, indeed: Sagesse.

We’d been center of the village of Le Breuil earlier in the afternoon for a lovely lunch at Le Dauphin, where Chef Mathieu Le Guillois prepared a prettily plated meal of refined, fresh fare. Now we backtracked to Sagesse, the brewery/taproom just across the street. With all due respect to local cider producers, we entered Sagesse to discuss craft beer with owner Nicolas Vieillard. Sagesse is the French word for wisdom so it seemed a sensible thing to do.

There’s a sociological study to be made of friendly microbrewers who formerly worked in IT and now have long beards and brew beer named with references from film and literature. I’d met Nicolas seven or so years ago when he was a clean-shaven Parisian suburbanite brewing in Maisons-Laffitte. He and his wife Valérie, who designs the labels, moved to Le Breuil-en-Auge in 2018. (The beard grew out during Covid lockdown.) He’d now gone native, so to speak, by brewing a range of quality organic craft beer mostly using Norman malts and French hops, to be enjoyed in a rustic taproom (open Thurs.-Sat. from 4pm) in this Norman village, population 1000—or purchased in shops in Normandy.

What beer to choose for our pairing?

Nicolas says that he particularly likes pairing the range of his beers with a variety of young and aged Neufchâtel, the heart-shaped cheese produced in the northwestern portion of Normandy. But conceding to my point that we were in Pont l’Evêque and Livarot territory, he suggested a bottle of La Reine des Plages, a light lager, to accompany a younger Pont l’Evêque, and La Fiancé du Pirate, a crafty red, to accompany a more aged Pont l’Evêque. Personally, I took a liking to L’Imperatrice, Sagesse’s stout, which would pair best with a Livarot, a stronger cheese.

The taproom is open Thursday, Friday and Saturday, 4-9pm. Earlier or on other days, you can try ringing the bell at the brewery, and if someone answers you might plead gently with that person to sell you some bottles to go. Otherwise, the village grocer (closed Sunday afternoon and Monday) sells Sagesse, as do many other grocers and beverage shops in the region.

As I mentioned above, you can then seek out the picture postcard picnic spot by an apple orchard. But having veered off from a pairing of cheese with cider, you might deviate from that cliché to head over to Lac Terre d’Auge, a lake that also lends itself to summer swimming just outside of Pont l’ l’Evêque.

Sagesse, 4 Rue André Druelle, 14130 Le Breuil-en-Auge, 06 30 56 65 89. Taproom open Thursday, Friday and Saturday 4-9pm.

Le Dauphin, 2 rue de l’Eglise, 14130 Le Breuil-en-Auge. 02 31 65 08 11. Closed Sunday dinner, Monday, Wednesday dinner.

Official tourist information about this portion of Pays d’Auge can be found here.

Return to Part 1 of this series: Cheese: Jérôme Spruytte’s Pont l’Evêque.

© 2022, Gary Lee Kraut

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For several years now the Burgundy Bourgogne Wine Board (BIVB) has been pleading with requesting those in the wine trade and journalists to refer to the wines produced in the Burgundy region as Bourgogne wines.

Personally, when writing and speaking in English, I have trouble thinking of the wines made in the 74,000-acre patchwork of the Burgundy winegrowing region as anything but Burgundies, unless I’m drinking Chablis, which I think of as Chablis even though its vines are firmly rooted in Burgundy, or Beaujolais, which is the wine equivalent of a dog that wants to be both inside and out.

Nevertheless, I share with you the latest plea from Burgundy, dated March 16, 2021, before commenting further below:

In 2012, on the request of its elected representatives, the Bourgogne Wine Board (BIVB) decided to stop translating the word “Bourgogne”, whatever the country. The aim is to help consumers find their way by ensuring coherence between our wine labels and the name of the region where the wines were created.

Bourgogne wines enjoy a strong global reputation with half of all Bourgogne wines produced being sold at export to around 170 territories. However, the farther the consumer lives from France, the more they struggle to understand our appellation system. They can get their bearings thanks to the wine’s origins, which is the name of this winegrowing region. It is therefore essential to use only one powerful name, a synonym for excellence and the respect for origins: Bourgogne.

Historically, Bourgogne is the only wine-producing region in France whose name is translated into different languages: “Burgundy” for English speakers, “Burgund” for Germans, “Borgogna” in Italian, to name but a few. This dates back to ancient times when the region was established as a crossroads for trade between the north and south and the east and west of Europe, as it still is today.

As such, Bourgogne wine producers and fans find themselves caught up in something of a paradox. The 200 million bottles of Bourgogne wine sold every year have the word “Bourgogne” on their label, either due to their appellation, which might be Bourgogne, Crémant de Bourgogne, Bourgogne Aligoté, and so on, or because they are a “Vin de Bourgogne” or a “Grand Vin de Bourgogne.” But consumers can find them amongst a range referred to Burgundy, Burgund, or Borgogna…

Confusing, to say the least.

“We felt it necessary to return to our original name, Bourgogne, in order to affirm our true identity, in a unified and collective way,” explains François Labet, President of the BIVB. “I’d say that our appellations are like our forenames, which makes Bourgogne our family name. A name that unites us all with our shared values embracing all the diversity of our wines. You don’t translate a family name!”

As they say in Beaujolais: Yes and no.

Yes, the historic region and former administrative region of Burgundy is called Bourgogne in French, as is the winegrowing portion of that region. But with all due to respect to this beautiful territory and the complexities of its mono-varietal wines and its terroirs and climats, it’s disingenuous to say that the wines made in the region that English-speakers call Burgundy should be called Bourgognes just as, say, the wines made in Champagne are called Champagnes. While Champagne the region and Champagne the wine are spelled the same way in English, Champagne’s pronunciations in English and French are as different from each other as Burgundy is from Bourgogne.

Would the BIVB also now have all non-French-speakers refer to the region itself as Bourgogne so as to complete the linguistic-territorial wine-pairing? If so, I look forward to their fight with tourist and government officials who are still keen on inviting English-speaking visitors to “Love France, Adore Burgundy,” to quote a slogan of the regional tourist board. Perhaps one day Burgundians will unify in imploring the world to call the region Bourgogne, but in a sense the region itself has somewhat faded on the map; Burgundy/Bourgogne no longer exists in the administrative way that it did when the BIVB first stopped translating Bourgogne. France’s territorial reform law of 2014 forced Burgundy/Bourgogne to marry its lesser-known (and also largely pinot-noir- and chardonnay-producing) neighbor to the east, creating Bourgogne-Franche-Comté.

Of course, it isn’t for historic or administrative reasons that the BIVB requests that we refer to their wines as Bourgognes but for the very contemporary, exported-minded reason of distinguishing their wines on the international wine market. The effect of decades of abuse of the term burgundy to refer to Burgundy-style New-World wines still lingers in major export markets, so insisting on Bourgogne is a way of appearing inimitable as well as uniquely French. Champagne producers fought long, hard and for the most part successfully to uphold the proprietary distinctiveness of their evocative name. Bourgogne producers are now looking to assert their particularity by gently pushing professionals and consumers to adopt the singularity of their geographical indicator as written in French.

For now, calling the wines produced in Burgundy’s winegrowing region “Bourgognes” sounds a bit pretentious in English. Admittedly, positioning the wines of Burgundy as products of quality on the world market could well call for an affected pronunciation. The “bourgignon” in beef bourgignon (aka beef burgundy or boeuf bourgignon) gives beef stew braised in red wine added value to a rustic dish. (The true snob would feel the need to prove to guests that the red wine in the dish was a Burgundy/Bourgogne.) With time, “I’d like a good red (or white) Bourgogne, please” may sound less affected, just as we eventually cozied up to Beijing as a closer approximation in speech and spelling to the name of the Chinese capital than Peking, though we still call the imperial fowl with the crispy skin “Peking duck.” But I digress.

If producers in Burgundy want us to call their wines Bourgognes then I’m willing to make an effort—it’s no skin off my grape—but without promising anything. I won’t try to sway you one way or another, though. But here’s some wine advice: If you’re going to order a “Bourgogne,” it better be good one—otherwise an ordinary Burgundy will do.

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Bourgogne: A Burgundy by Any Other Name Would Be Just as Terroir appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

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I got to rereading Charles Baudelaire’s poem Enivrez-vous (Get Drunk) recently while preparing a forthcoming text for France Revisited about lockdown and wine. Others have also rediscovered Enivrez-vous during lockdown.

While confined to Château Labastide Orliac, the vineyard that sisters Isabelle and Catherine Orliac own in southwest France, Isabelle was also drawn to the poem. The sisters’ May 2020 newsletter includes the video below (video 1) of Isabelle reciting Enivrez-vous while standing with a glass of red wine among the oak barrels in the château’s cellar. (I interviewed Isabelle Orliac for an article in 2011.)

There are many ways to read the poem. Among them, the jazz-piano-accompanied version (video 2) by Serge Reggiani and a Hollywood reading in English by Dustin Hoffman (video 3).

Each of these is recited in a different context and to a different rhythm.

Further below, you’ll find the text in English (my translation) and in French so that you can read the poem aloud in your own context and to your own rhythm.

Enivrez-vous was first published in book form in a posthumous collection of 1869 entitled Le Spleen de Paris (Paris Spleen) or Petits poèmes en prose (Little Prose Poems). Charles Baudelaire died in 1867.

Legal notice: Drink with moderation. Listen and read to the fullest.

Recitation by Isabelle Orliace in the cellar at Château Labastide Orliac, 2020.

Polydor record version by Serge Reggiani, 1980

Hollywood reading by Dustin Hoffman of a version entitled Be Drunken, addressed to Jack Nicholson, 1994.

Get Drunk
by Charles Baudelaire (translation by GLKraut)

Always be drunk. That’s it: it’s the only point. So as not to feel the horrible burden of Time that breaks your shoulders and bends you to the earth, get unabatedly drunk.

But with what? With wine, with poetry or with virtue, as you please. But get drunk.

And if at times, on the steps of a palace, on the green grass of a ditch, in the dreary solitude of your bedroom, you awaken, drunkenness already diminished or vanished, ask of the wind, of the wave, of the star, of the bird, of the clock, of everything that slips away, of everything that groans, of everything that rolls on, of everything that sings, of everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: “It is time to get drunk! So as not to be a martyred slave to Time, get incessantly drunk! With wine, with poetry or with virtue, as you please.”

Enivrez-vous
by Charles Baudelaire

Il faut être toujours ivre. Tout est là: c’est l’unique question. Pour ne pas sentir l’horrible fardeau du Temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve.

Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous.

Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d’un palais, sur l’herbe verte d’un fossé, dans la solitude morne de votre chambre, vous vous réveillez, l’ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l’étoile, à l’oiseau, à l’horloge, à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est; et le vent, la vague, l’étoile, l’oiseau, l’horloge, vous répondront: “Il est l’heure de s’enivrer ! Pour n’être pas les esclaves martyrisés du Temps, enivrez-vous sans cesse ! De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise.”

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Meanwhile, here in France, Americans celebrating Thanksgiving typically, even traditionally, enjoy their fresh French turkey with some fine French terroir in their selection of wine—make that wines, plural, since a long meal calls for more than one. So while the information below will especially serve Americans celebrating in France, don’t be afraid to try this back in the homeland or elsewhere abroad on this or any turkey day.

There are a multitude of approaches to turkey, from roasting to smoking to frying, and plenty of stuffing recipes that, when combined, can influence your wine pairing. But on average the range of French pinot noirs, with its great and subtle variety from light to medium to full body, lends itself to roast turkey pairing. Thoughts of pinot noir then leads us primarily to the wines of Burgundy and Champagne (with all due respect to Alsace and to the Loire Valley’s Sancerre and Manetou-Salon).

So I asked the pros promoting the wines of Champagne and Burgundy what they recommended to accompany our traditional American meal.

The Champagne Bureau USA was well-prepared for the question and supplied the following chart:

The Burgundy Wine Bureau (BIVB) put some thought to the question and sent the following suggestions:

As an aperitif, Burgundy’s bubbly, Crémant de Bourgogne, either a blanc de blancs for its lightness and fitness or a blanc de noirs for a more complex opening to your thankful gathering.

For your stuffed turkey with cranberry sauce, something in the order of a Morey-Saint-Denis, a Mercurey, a Savigny-les-Beaune Premier Cru or a Ladoix.

Then, come dessert, to accompany your pumpkin pie or your pecan pie (as long as they aren’t overwhelmingly sweet), a white (chardonnay) Meurault or Marsannay.

So many ways to give thanks.

© 2019, Gary Lee Kraut

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Nevertheless, 35 years ago “bartender” was one of the most promising lines on my resume, and I am not immune to cocktail trends or simply to a good brandy cocktail come aperitif time.

Among the trio of brandies mentioned above, cognac and armagnac, as grape-based spirits, carry more prestige than apple-based calvados, yet calvados is the one I most frequently encounter on my travels for the simple reason that I visit Normandy from Paris more often than I visit Charente or Gascony. One of those visits to Normandy was to the Calvados Nouvelle Vogue International Trophies, an annual bartending competition to create the best calvados-based cocktails.

The competition is held in a different location in Normandy each year in spring, for example the pretty port town of Granville in 2017 and the city of Caen in 2018. I attended last year’s edition and was invited to serve on the jury for the inter-journalist competition. I even had a chummy moment with that year’s master of ceremonies, Colin Field, head bartender of the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz in Paris and the most famous barman in France. That for the photo op.

When it comes to calvados cocktails in particular, the shout-out goes to Marc Jean, who has just celebrated 30 years of tending bar at Le Normandy, the venerable Barrière-owned hotel in Deauville.

Jean began his working life at the age of 16, in 1982, as an apprentice waiter at another of the region’s great historic hotels, the Grand Hôtel de Cabourg. But it was behind the bar that he would make a home for himself. Hired as third barman at the Normandy in 1988, he rose to head barman in 2000. One of the original participants in the Calvados Nouvelle Vogue competition, he is now one of its organizers as well as president of the Association des Barmen de Normandie.

As a Norman born and bred, calvados naturally hold place of honor on his liquor shelves. He has created numerous calvados cocktails. Four of his recipes can be found below.

Before turning to mixology, however, a brief history of the brandy called calvados.

A Brief History of Calvados

Normandy has been prime territory for fermented apple juice, i.e. hard cider, since the early 16th century. The first record of the fermented juice being distilled to make brandy (eau-de-vie in French) dates to 1553. Though produced for centuries, the spirit became largely associated with the Normandy department (or sub-region) named Calvados in the 19th century. In 1942 it gained status as a legally recognized appellation, meaning only apple brandy produced within a specifically delimited zone could be called calvados. Wartime—1942—may seem an odd time to be seeking official appellation status, particularly as the Germans were increasingly building up defenses along the coast in order to repel an eventual Allied invasion. But the war was in fact a major reason for producers to seek regulation of the term calvados for their brandy: during the German Occupation, the only copper stills that were not requisitioned by Germany for military purposes were those used for appellation products. It’s a spirit that Allied soldiers got to know following D-Day during the Battle of Normandy 1944.

Calvados, affectionately known as calva, is largely produced in the Normandy departments of Calvados and Manche (which represent the major of the zone in which the Battle of Normandy took place). There are also designated production zones just over the border in Mayenne and Sarthe and in the area around the town of Neufchatel, further west in Normandy.

AOC (Controlled Appellation of Origin) Calvados represents the majority of brandy production in the region, while two other AOCs within restrained zones are Calvados Pays d’Auge and Calvados Domfrontais. For the latter, produced in area on the southern edge of Normandy that lends itself to growing pears, the brandy is a made from distilling the fermented juice of apples and at least 30% pears.

Calvados Cocktails

For much of its history calvados has been imbibed in its pure state. It has also found its way into the kitchen. And increasingly over the past 20 years it has been used in cocktails. Or 22 years to be precise since a major influence in the spread of the gospel of the calvados cocktail has been the Calvados Nouvelle Vogue competition, which was launched in 1996.

Originally a regional bartending competition, Calvados Nouvelle Vogue International Trophies, as it came to be called, now includes bartenders from 15 countries, mostly European, themselves winners of national competitions which draw 500 competitors. Competitors are judged on creativity, dexterity and the story they tell about the inspiration for their cocktail, along with its taste and presentation. A theme is given each year—this year, vegetables. A Polish bartender, Robert Piasecki took top prize, followed by a Swede and a Belgian.

Last year’s winner, on the theme of the sea, was French bartender Yolanda Fouquet, whose cocktail brought together calvados and beer from Brittany. (She returned as a competitor in 2018 but didn’t make the podium.) A competition among student bartenders and another among journalists are also held.

Among Marc Jean’s many Calvados-based cocktails, long and short, I’ve selected below, with permission, four recipes from Cocktails au Calvados, a collection of recipes that he co-authored with Dominique Grousseaud. I’ve selected these because they represent a relatively easy introduction to making Calvados-based cocktails with ingredients that you’re likely to have at home. (For more complex concoctions go see Marc Jean at Le Normandy in Deauville.)

You’ll need the calvados, of course.

When traveling in the production zones in Normandy you’ll undoubtedly drive by apple farms that offer a tasting or a visit of their installations. Local tourist offices can provide a list of those that receive visitors. Some of the best are produced in the Pays d’Auge and under that appellation, but there is quality elsewhere as well.

During my own travels in the region, I enjoy the encounter as much as anything. Quality of the calva is often the secondary pleasure but nothing beats meeting a quality producer with a good story to tell.

More than half of calvados production is exported, with the U.S. placing near the top of the list, so you’ll have little trouble finding some at a decent liquor store at home. Calvados is aged in oak vats for a minimum of two years (three years for calvados domfrontais). Long-aged calvados of six years or more may be more difficult to find in ordinary liquor stores at home. Anyway, a young calvados of two or three years of oak aging is more appropriate for most cocktails since they provide the fruity aromas that are often sought. Older brandies can also add their distinctiveness to a cocktail, but personally I’m saving mine for a nightcap.

© 2018, Gary Lee Kraut

Calvados Cocktail Recipes

Here are four pages from Cocktails au Calvados, a collection of recipes by Marc Jean and Dominique Grousseaud, reproduced with permission.

Further information about calvados and hard cider in Normandy can be found on France Revisited in this article and in more detail on the site of IDAC, the Interprofession des Appellations Cidricoles, the association of professionals involved with appellation (hard) cider products, those made from cider apples and perry pears.

For information about cocktail-bar tours and encounters with mixologists in Paris see here.

France Revisited reminds readers to drink responsibly and with moderation.

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From time to time a winegrowing area will flex its viney muscle and, claiming distinctiveness, seek to untether itself from broader semi-generic wines in a region.

Vézelay, a Burgundy village otherwise known as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is the latest to make a name for itself. In the fall of 2017 Vezelay was officially granted permission to call its dry chardonnays “Vézelay” rather than the broader “Bourgogne [Burgundy] Vézelay.” It’s a subtle but proud distinction that allows its producers to affirm and refine their wines’ particularity compared with other white burgundies.

In France, permission to bear a village label comes from the INAO, the National Institute of Appellations of Origin, which is responsible for the implementation of policy on official signs of identification of the origin and quality of agricultural and food products.

From now on, Vézelay, like Twiggy, Cher, Madonna, Beyoncé, Moby, Ice-T, Oprah and Voltaire, needs no other qualifier to its name to make a statement.

The last Burgundy village to rise to appellation (AOC) status was Irancy, in 1999, for its rough-edged pinot noir produced 22 miles north of Vézelay. Now it’s the turn for chardonnay, the other illustrious grape of Burgundy wines, to get honored as Vezelay comes of age and out from the long shadow of white Burgundy.

The first AOC Vezelay bottles will appear on wine shop shelves in the fall of 2018. That’s just in time for the best launch party that a Burgundy village can have, as Vézelay will host the region’s annual Saint Vincent Tournante wine festival over the weekend of January 26 and 27, 2019.

Each year the Confrérie des Chevaliers du Tastevin, the venerable and folkloric wine fraternity of Burgundy wine enthusiasts (and of much else Burgundy), selects a different Burgundy wine village to host the event. That village then shares the fermented fruit of its labor in honor of Vincent, a patron saint of winegrowers. Vézelay was awarded the 2019 slot when Aloxe-Corton and Pernand-Vergelesses, which historically host the event together, backed out due to a series of small harvests that left them low on party stock. January may not be the most beautiful time for a stroll in the vineyards, but Saint Vincent Tournante is one of France’s premier wine parades. (The January 2020 event will likely be held in Gevrey-Chambertin, the Côte de Nuits village whose grand cru reputation needs no introduction to fans of French wines and to visitors to Burgundy.)

Vezelay Abbey

Its hosting of Saint Vincent Tournante makes 2019 a double reason for Vézelay pride since that also marks the 40th anniversary of the listing of its 12th-century basilica and its dramatic hilltop presence as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The Benedictine abbey of Vézelay was founded in the 9th century and eventually acquired the supposed relics of Saint Mary Magdalene, leading to the church being rededicated in her name in the 11th century. Miracles were attributed to the relics, pilgrims flocked in increasing numbers, and the church became an important point of departure along Saint James’s Way. The church, rebuilt following a deadly fire in 1120, is “a masterpiece of Burgundian Romanesque art and architecture,” to quote the UNESCO listing. The perfect setting, then, for Saint Bernard to preach the Second Crusade in 1146 and for Richard the Lion-Hearted and Philip II Augustus to set off in bromance for the Third Crusade in 1190.

With all that communion going on, as well as the thirst of the Court of Burgundy, there was much need for wine, and vineyards flourished around medieval Vézelay.

(The Vezelay Tourist Office provides information about visiting the abbey, the village and the surrounding villages and vineyards, including Vezelay wine tasting.)

The appellation and the terroir

But Vézelay’s long winemaking history, dating to Roman times, dried up with the phylloxera epidemic that hit the area in 1884 and soon decimated the vines. Several acres of vines were later replanted for local consumption, but it wasn’t until the 1970s, when a handful of producers, with support from some elected officials, made a concerted effort to relaunch local wine production with the pinot noir and especially chardonnay varietals that are so at home in Burgundy. Their efforts gradually bore fruit, and in 1988 the area’s chardonnay production was authorized to bear the Bougogne/Burgundy appellation. In 1997 that gave way to the appellation Bourgogne Vezelay. Consecration has now come with the AOC Vezelay designation, which recognizes the distinctiveness of these chardonnays compared with others in the region.

Twenty-five producers, including ten associated with a cooperative, currently work 70 hectares (173 acres) of chardonnay vines. That leaves plenty of room for growth since the new appellation delimits a zone covering 256 hectares (633 acres).

AOC Vézelay defines a dry white wine produced from the chardonnay B varietal. In granting it an appellation in its own right, INAO recognizes it as a well-defined and independent geographical entity within Burgundy. The outline of the Vézelay winegrowing zone lies in the Cure Valley within the municipalities of Asquins, Saint-Père, Tharoiseau and Vézelay in Burgundy’s Yonne department or subregion. Its clayey marly limestone soils are situated on southern and southeastern slopes on the edge Morvan National Regional Park and distinct from Burgundy’s Chabliens/Auxerrois vineyards, also in Yonne, to the north and its Côte d’Or vineyards to the southeast.

Having a village appellation does not mean that a wine is exceptional but rather that it is distinct from neighboring wines and follows certain specifications. Consequently, it presents a specificity in the marketplace that is up to its producers and distributors to exploit. In and of itself, it is not a gauge of quality with respect non-village wines, though a village appellation is presumably not plonk. Of course there is still room for varying tastes and qualities within the production area.

Vézelay, or at least the Bourgogne Vézelay currently on the market, might best be considered a fresh, unpretentious dry aperitif with floral, citrus and mineral notes. You can always keep pouring it beyond the aperitif to accompany a starter, if you like, or to finish with some soft cow’s milk cheese. See AOC Vézelay’s description by the Bourgogne Wine Board (BIVB).

Bourgogne Vézelay can already be found in some U.S. and British wine markets, so AOC Vézelay will certainly follow suit and perhaps grow as the vineyards and their “brand” reputation do. In France, bottles of Bourgogne Vézelay sell in shops in the 10-15€ range for the most part. The new village appellation and accompanying marketing efforts may well lift prices. (Keep in mind, we are not in Chablis Grand Cru territory here.)

For a lesson in English of the geography of Burgundy appellations (pre-AOC Vezelay), south to north, see this video from the Bourgogne Wine Board.

Vezelay in Montmartre

A group of Vézelay winegrowers recently came to Paris to speak of the new appellation at an event at the La Bonne Franquette, a restaurant located just up the street the vineyard of Montmartre. La Bonne Franquette is also an institution of Montmartre folklore, hence the presence of President of the Republic of Montmartre in the photo below. He is seen holding a bottle of Montmartre wine, as is Patrick Frashboud, La Bonne Franquette’s owner. The other bottles held are among the last of the Bourgogne Vézelay chardonnay production.

Left to right, Patrick Fracheboud, owner of La Bonne Franquette; Matthieu Woillez, Domaine La Croix Montjoie; Valentin Montanet, Domaine La Cadette; Elise Villiers, Domaine Elise Villiers; Delphine Dupont, Domaine Dupont; Patrick Bringer, Domaine Les Faverelle; Alain Coquard, President of the Republic of Montmartre; Brigitte Guéret, Cave Henry de Vézelay, the Vezelay wine cooperative; Christine Ranunkel, whose father was an elected official instrumental in pushing for the replanting the vineyards around Vezelay in the 1960s and 70s; Isabelle Garnier, Cave Henry de Vézelay.

© 2018, Gary Lee Kraut

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In this first in a series of Paris cocktail bar expeditions we sipped our way through a sliver of the 10th arrondissement with stops at three very different bars located just off Boulevard Saint-Martin, between the metro stations République and Strasbourg Saint-Denis.

For some cocktail travelers any one of these bars will be enchanting enough for an evening’s excursion into cocktail-land, for others the contrast of two will raise the spirit before dinner, while the devoted cocktail explorers will enjoy a delightfully varied journey by taking in the three, all without walking more than 600 yards.

These bars can be visited in any order, at any time in the evening and into the night, but our preferred order progresses from Lavomatic, where we found recipe, to CopperBay, where we enjoyed chemistry, to Baranaan, where we discovered alchemy.

Come before 7pm if you want a relatively quiet cocktail, otherwise enjoy the crowd, either before, after or instead of dinner. Anyone over 40 may feel a bit over the hill as these bars fill, but all are welcome and will soon feel at home. None takes reservations.

Recipe: Lavomatic

Lavomatic
30 rue René Boulanger, 10th arr.
Metro République
Open Tues. and Wed. 6am-1pm, Thurs.-Sat 6am-2am

What may well be the world’s smallest laundromat is also the front to Paris’s most secretive cocktail bar. Well, it would be secretive if this bar, which opened in 2015, weren’t already such a hit. Still, not all comers know which button on which laundry machine gives access to the cocktail cycle.

Find it and a door will open to a staircase leading to a compact and lively cocktail scene. Fellow launderers sit on Brillo cubes, swings, bar stools and leaning ledges. Get your suds up with contemporary cocktail recipes for the start of your evening whether out for a quick rinse or the full cycle, cool, warm or hot. 10-12 euro cocktails and nice little appetizers won’t take you to the cleaners. Rinse, repeat if necessary.

Best seat in the house: the corner ledge of the bar area.

Chemistry: CopperBay

CopperBay
5 rue Bouchardon, 10th arr.
Metro Strasbourg Saint-Denis or Jacques Bonsergent
Open Tues.-Sat. 6pm-2am

The faraway name and the clean-lined décor of CopperBay may be mildly evocative of the bar of a New England yacht club, but as watched Aurélie and Julien measure out doses, dashes and dollops of the elements of fine mixology we immediately recognized them as highly skilled cocktail chemists.

Choose from the brief description on the wall, from the chemistry cards on the menu rung or simply present your tastes and requirements to the owner-lab techs behind the bar.

While Julien’s hand ballet executes state-of-the-art formulas, Aurélie selects, stirs, shakes and shimmies with such self-assurance that she can also simultaneously offer a warm welcome to newcomers while offering advice to a return traveler. Meanwhile, Elfi, the third partner in this smooth-running experiment, largely works behind the scenes.

Canned, jarred and wrapped nibbles can be ordered, but the focus is firmly on beverage at this second stop on our cocktail tour.

Alchemy: Baranaan

Baranaan
7 rue du Faubourg Saint Martin, 10th arr.
Metro Strasbourg Saint-Denis
Open Tues.-Sun. 6pm-1:30am

An unmarked door at the back of the vegetarian Indian snack joint Elaichi opens to a subcontinental speakeasy where cultures cross from one cocktail to the next.

Owners Raphaël and Krishane and their team of multiculti alchemists lure us out of Paris and into a joyful world of spirits, infusions, essential oils, spices and liqueurs. This is the cocktail traveler’s passport to nearly mystical concoctions. Booths—rather, compartments—along the wall offer a train journey into the Tamil heartland. Gaze through the one-way mirror in the rest room to reflect on your fellow traveler before returning to your seat.

Naans and other noshes allow 10th arrondissement cocktail explorers to ignore dinner and continue their spirit-fueled journey into the night.

(c) 2016

Want to partake in a France Revisited drinking or eating expedition?
France Revisited occasionally enlists readers to join on cocktail, beer or wine bar expeditions as well as on gastronomic adventures, particularly in Paris, sometime beyond. Expeditionists and adventurers are expected to be willing to try different food or beverages (i.e. you won’t be forced, but please don’t be difficult) and to give honest opinions that may be integrated into an upcoming article. Expeditionists and adventurers pay their own way or a pre-defined cost. These are not tours but ways in which you help us in our research and we help you enjoy (re)discovering Paris and beyond. Write to gary [at] francerevisited.com if you’d like to join the exclusive list. Another way to be sure to join is by supporting France Revisited, as explained here.

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