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10:30am. Arrival.Gare du Nord, my old friend. My tired, ugly old friend. Good to see you again. Alas, today there is no time for pleasantries, as we are men on a mission: 24 hours in Paris and a whole world of food and wine to experience. OK, not a

whole world, just the part of it that speaks with a French accent.

We descend into the bowels of the First World’s most putrid transport hub, stepping over the destitute and fending off beggars as we make our way into the Metro.

A Fagin-like figure in a leather jacket marshals units of pickpockets, ready to deploy them in our direction until our eyes meet and he slips back into the gloom. We tighten our grip on our belongings and board the rickety subway train as

24 Hours in Paris Noble Rot takes a non-stop journey through the French capital’s wine bar scene. Words by Mark Andrew. Illustration by Ritchie Xavier

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quickly as we can. Disembarking at République, we emerge into the Parisian sunlight and onto a square full of thousands of people simultaneously protesting and dancing like maniacs to the eurotrash techno thumping out of the sound stage. We leave the crowds behind and make the short walk to our hotel before beginning our assignment.

12:00pm. Lunch.Lunch is by far our most pressing concern and one thing our hotel has going for it is its location in the 11th arrondisement. Not by any means the most salubrious part of town, the 11th (like the 10th on the other side of the Canal St-Martin) is full of the kind of wine bars and restaurants that we want to check out. Near the top of our list is Le Baratin, an iconic establishment for anyone with a penchant for natural wine and beautifully executed bistro cuisine, so we jump a couple of stops to Pyrénées in Belleville (which, incidentally, isn’t all that belle). The place is buzzing as we squeeze up to the bar to enjoy the prix-fixe (€18 for three courses) and a glass of Bourgeuil by Pierre Breton.

Revitalised, we walk fifteen minutes to rue Saint Maur with our sights set on La Buvette, a shabby chic small-plates establishment with mosaic floor tiles and a killer wine list. We enjoy a

glass of ‘Les Grelots’, a red blend from Sylvain Bock (one of the most exciting winemakers in the Ardèche), while wolfing down some anchovies and warming to the very French idea of a cave à manger – a wine shop where you can eat and drink.

Next stop is rue de Charonne, where a mini empire of gastronomic brilliance is taking root. The restaurant Septime is one of the best in Paris; it’s very hard to get a reservation, but the set menu (€55) and well-curated wine list are worth the trouble. Meanwhile, next door, the same team have opened a seafood and shellfish joint called Clamato. We order some delicious oysters and can’t resist a glass of Eric Pfifferling’s Domaine l’Anglore Tavel Rosé (a wine you almost never see in the UK). Fully satisfied, we pay

and bid farewell to Caves Augé’s scowling shop assistant.

We wander down Boulevard Malesherbes past rue Royale (where Steven Spurrier used to have his wine shop) and head up the Boulevard de la Madelaine to Lavinia. If there is a bigger wine shop in the world, we haven’t been there, and as a complete juxtaposition to the 19th century elegance of Augé, Lavinia feels like a wine merchant housed in a branch of Zara. We head downstairs and cruise past stacks of generic Bordeaux on our way to the old and mature bottles. Most of it, predictably, is blue chip Claret and the headline names of Burgundy and the Rhône. All of it is overpriced; La Chapelle ’61 at €27,000 is almost double what is being charged at Hedonism in London. Out on the main floor there is plenty of decent wine, but not much to set the pulse racing. We leave the corporate banality of Lavinia behind and head down the rue des Petits Champs to the corner of rue de la Banque and one of Paris’ truly great wine shops: Caves Legrand. From the outside it looks like many of the city’s beautiful old shops, all wood panelling and lavish gilding, with windows chock full of fine food and wine products. Stepping inside is like going back in time a hundred years and the front two rooms are

stone’s throw from one of the city’s most important vinous landmarks: Willi’s Wine Bar.

Willi’s is an institution and most probably the first place that many in the British wine trade would recommend to anyone in search of a good glass of wine in Paris. Owner Mark Williamson opened Willi’s over thirty years ago and, through a combination of a stellar wine list and great seasonal food served in an airy room with walls adorned with brilliant original artwork, it is still recognised as one of the city’s finest places to drink. We make a pit stop for a glass of Pepière Muscadet and a brief chat with Mark before heading round the corner for a similarly snappy aperitif at Juveniles (one of the few places serving foreign wines by the glass in Paris).

We have a hankering for terrine and have heard of just the place, so we head six stops to the east to St-Sébastien Froissant station – literally next door to La Repaire Cartouche. This place is always packed with locals and today is no different, but we manage to grab the last table and get started on a couple of glasses of Dard & Ribo’s ‘Printemps’ Crozes-Hermitage (a sort of ‘Crozes Nouveau’). Owner Rodolphe Paquin is renowned Paris-wide for his terrines and supplies many of the city’s top restaurants. A steady stream of people

full of classic, quality wines in an array of different formats. At the back of these rooms a doorway leads downstairs into yet another room of ‘fine wine’, with scores of great bottles on display and a wine bar, complete with a menu of small plates. Egly-Ouriet, Ostertag and Dujac are among the producers being poured by the glass today, so after a good look through their back vintages of Granges des Pères, we sit down for a glass of Egly’s ‘Vignes de Vrigny’.

4:00pm. Apéro (part un).After-work drinks are a major tradition in Paris, so with the ‘heure d’apéro’ approaching, we decide that we’d better get a move on if we are going to get a decent seat anywhere before the offices start emptying. Luckily, Legrand is a mere

Top: Willi’s Wine Bar, rue des Petits Champs; Bottom: Juveniles, rue de Richelieu.

Top: Septime, rue de Charonne; Bottom: Caves Augé, Boulevard Haussmann.

the bill and set about our next task: buying some interesting bottles of wine to take home.

1:30pm. Wine shopping.We head over to Boulevard Haussmann and stop to admire the splendour of Caves Augé. It is a place that the brilliant wineterroirs.com blog has long documented, especially the epic tastings held on the street outside the shop, but this is our first opportunity to experience it for ourselves. Inside, we squeeze between row after row of wines piled high to the ceiling. Champagne’s grand marques sit alongside all our favourite growers (described as Champagnes de Vignerons) and various Petillant Naturel (natural wine’s answer to sparkling wine). Beyond that, the combination of artisanal and natural continues in every region – Bordeaux goes from l’Eglise Clinet to Le Puy; Rhône from Bonneau and Clape to Allemand and Souhaut; Burgundy from Anne Gros and Gouges to Pacalet and Pattes Loup. Have we died and gone to wine shop heaven? Not quite: the service borders on the offensive, despite our outpouring of enthusiasm and efforts to relay it en Français. Maybe they don’t appreciate us enquiring about their stocks of rare Edmond Vatan vintages. Still, the wine offering is special, so we buy a bottle of Métras Fleurie

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hitch up at the dedicated counter to buy terrines whole to take home, some of them picking up a copy of Paquin’s book on the subject while they are at it. We settle on lamb with fig and wild boar with chestnuts; they taste so good that they’re gone within minutes.

6:30pm. Apéro (part deux). We take a detour to Chez l’Ami Louis, a classic bistro favoured by Francois Mitterand and Jonny Depp where €92 buys you one of Paris’ best roast chickens for two. As much as we would love to stop we decide that the huge portions and prices are best saved for another time (the cheapest starter is a simply prepared melon at €26) and press on to the Metro to head south of the river.

Exiting Odéon station we find l’Avant Comptoir. This tiny place is next door to the famous Le Comptoir du Relais and is owned by the same chap – Yves Camdebourde. Camdebourde used to work the stove at La Tour d’Argent (which had three stars at the time, but is now down to just one) and became something of a trailblazer when he left the world of fine dining behind and channelled his energies into revolutionising the Parisian bistro scene.

Since he opened Le Comptoir du Relais in 2005 it has become one of the hardest reservations to get in Paris and seems universally loved by critics and chefs alike. L’Avant Comptoir is effectively a shrunken down version with small dishes and standing room only. There is also a big fridge full of natural wine where many of our old friends reside. Ganevat? Check. Foillard? Check. Dard & Ribo? Radikon? Plageoles? All present. The chap behind the bar takes our order; we kick off with some Beaujolais from Lapalu and choose four of the dishes advertised on the placards hanging from the ceiling. Half an hour later and we’re onto our second glass (‘SP68’ by Occhipinti) but our food is still nowhere to be seen. We ask after our order but the staff couldn’t care less, so we pay for the wine and leave with a feeling of self-loathing that curt Parisian service can often bring about.

Across the road we find l’Ambassade de Bourgogne, the sort of diplomatic-sounding place that might inspire a career in

the foreign office. Unfortunately, once inside there is a distinct lack of interesting Burgundy – and no Ferrero Rocher whatsoever. The best examples of caves à manger are both great wine shops and really nice places to sit and have a drink or a bite to eat, but with its cold, generic feel l’Ambassade de Bourgogne is neither. We turn on our heels and wander up rue des Quatre Vents onto rue Lobineau. Heading for the Compagnie des Vins Surnaturels. Don’t let the word ‘naturels’ (well, ‘surnaturels’) fool you, this isn’t a natural wine bar. The list is largely conventional, albeit with plenty of decent wine and sprinkled with the likes of Dagueneau, Ostertag and Clos Rougeard. It all feels quite polished and a glass of Haut Brion ’95 will set you back €100. We go for the Dauvissat ‘Le Clos’ ’09, which at €20 represents a bargain.

We jump in a taxi and make our way north to the Canal St-Martin and one of Paris’ most famous wine bar/restaurants: Le Verre Volé. When we arrive the place is rammed, and so we bob and weave our way inside, only interested in a drink but mightily impressed by the look of the food that is leaving the kitchen. This place acts as a wine shop during the day (though lunch is served), but

Above: Chez l’Ami Louis, rue de Vertbois.

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A Cook’s Tour Paris Q&A with Greg Marchand ,Frenchie, rue de Nil

Some nicknames stick. Originally from Nantes, Greg Marchand found himself re-christened ‘Frenchie’ by Jamie Oliver during a stint at Fifteen in London, part of a few years of extensive travelling that saw him cooking everywhere from Hong Kong’s Mandarin Oriental to New York’s Gramercy Tavern. In 2009, Greg re-settled his young family back in France and set up Frenchie, now one of Paris’ most sought after tables. Part of a gastronomic empire taking over the narrow cobbled rue De Nil (which also includes a wine bar and takeaway/café), Frenchie’s affordable

prices, engaging service and delicious cooking make it one of capital’s hottest food and wine destinations.

Dan Keeling caught up with Greg from his base in the 2nd District.

Noble Rot: How do you think France’s food scene has changed over the last few years? Greg Marchand: A new generation of French chefs has travelled the world and returned to open less stuffy, bistro-style restaurants, but with a level of cookery that is so much more than standard bistro fare. There are many more chef/patrons – chefs who actually own their own restaurants – and this has meant they are able to inject a lot more personality and character into what they are doing. There is a more personal touch in many of the great new restaurants in France, and a real sense of ownership.

Does France still lead the world in gastronomy?The food scene is now global, with great restaurants opening in every corner of the world. In Paris we have reinvented ourselves too. Critics used to complain that French restaurants could be stuffy, with formal service that was stuck in the 1980s, but now, with many chefs like myself travelling and experiencing other cuisines and food cultures before opening their own restaurants, it is a much fresher scene. France never lost it, it just needed to travel and open its mind, to be re-inspired by discovering new cultures.

Which chefs and restaurants excite you in Paris at the moment?I take as much pleasure from a great sandwich or a takeaway as I do from a 3 Michelin star restaurant. Loving food is a state of mind. Some places I really like are a new place called The Clown Bar, opened by Sven Chartier from Saturne, and Clamato, the fish restaurant from Septime. Also I think Arpege is an exceptional

by the time evening arrives there is no space to move for the throng of people eating, drinking and starting to make merry. The service is brusque, and the wines are…well, increasingly familiar. All natural, all good and largely the same as many of the other places we have visited today. A trend is starting to emerge and we embrace it with a bottle of St Joseph blanc from Dard & Ribo.

9:00pm. Dinner.Ten minutes after leaving Le Verre Volé we arrive at Vivant Cave on rue des Petites Écuries. The place is full, and the right-hand wall is lined with beautifully designed fridges that are full of (you guessed it) natural wines from all of the top names. We can’t resist a bottle of Grands Teppes VV from Ganevat, which we order from host/head sommelier David Benichou as we perch on the edge of the bar. By now the selections at many of these bars are starting to blur into one wine list, and that isn’t just a result of how many glasses we have consumed. There are so many really nice places to drink, but they all serve the same, relatively narrow range of wines – almost all French (with the same exceptions), all definably natural and all really young. We ruminate on this phenomenon over our superb bottle of Ganevat,

excluding the likes of Willi’s and CVS from this critique but acknowledging that the most interesting places to drink are still the city’s natural wine bars. The look and feel of these bars is great, we just wish that some of them could pad out their stock with older vintages, bring in more wines from elsewhere, or list wines from genuinely artisanal domaines that might not adhere to an absolutist sans soufre regime. Before long our table is ready so we head next door to Vivant Table, a restored pet shop with a gorgeous vintage tiled interior. Pierre Jancou opened this place a few years ago – he is the bloke who really kicked off the modern wave of natural wine bars in Paris with La Cremerie and Racines – but when it started, Vivant was more of a bar and the food offering was casual. Last year Jancou made some changes in the kitchen and, with the opening of Vivant Cave, they have really stepped up the food side of things back in Vivant Table. Jancou has now sold up, but the place is testament to both his skill

as a restaurateur and his belief in high quality natural produce. We work our way through the very well-executed set menu (€65), accompanied by a delicious bottle of Château Meylet’s 2001 St Emilion.

12:00am. Nightcap.By the time we’re finished at Vivant it’s getting late, but we still have time for a nightcap. David recommends that we head to Le Marais and give Clown Bar a try. We flag down a cab and within ten minutes we are making our way into another architectural gem, replete with exquisite tiled walls, painted glass ceilings and a gorgeous zinc bar. Clown Bar looks like the set of a period film (it was built in 1852 as staff canteen for the Cirque d’Hiver), and there is a very appetising menu and great wine list to boot – though this comes as little surprise, as the team behind it are the guys from Saturne, a superb restaurant next to Bourse Metro. We take a seat at the bar and spot a wine we’ve been dying to try on the list. Julien Guillot’s Macon-Cruzille Rouge ‘Clos des Vignes du Maynes’ comes highly recommended by the New York Times’ wine critic Eric Asimov, so we order their last bottle and toast to a good day’s work. Back at the hotel we crash into bed so merry that nothing – not even the crooked beds – can keep us from sleeping.Vivant Cave, rue des Petites

Écuries.

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restaurant – Alain Passard is a great inspiration, although I have never worked for him.

Of all the bottles of wine you’ve ever drunk, which one would you most like to be able to drink again and why?It would be disrespectful to all the wines I have drunk to name just one! Of course, you could say Domaine de la

Chef’s Secret Weapons 006Leeks with vinaigrette, truffle and vin jaune sabayonsBy Greg Marchand, Frenchie, ParisFor 4 people

Leeks Prepare the leeks by washing them thoroughly. Next blanch them by placing in salted, boiling water until tender, then plunging them into ice water to stop the cooking. Once cool, peel off the outer layer of each leek and pat dry on kitchen paper. Reserve the leeks in the fridge.

Sabayon Make a sabayon by combining all the ingredients in a glass bowl over a pan of simmering water. Whisk the mixture to incorporate the various components and ensure that the egg yolks cook evenly. When the sabayon has thickened and taken on a glossy sheen, pour it into a siphon and gas twice. Keep warm.

Vinaigrette Combine the oils, vinegar, mustard and seasoning in a bowl or jug and whisk to incorporate. Set the resultant vinaigrette aside.

Finishing Prepare the finishing touches by cracking and peeling the fresh walnuts and gently brushing the truffle. Before plating, re-warm the leeks in the oven with a drizzle of olive oil. Plate up the leeks, serving six per person, and dress them with the whisked vinaigrette. Garnish with the mixed leaves, fresh walnuts and truffle slices. Add the sabayon and finish off with a little black pepper.

Romanée Conti, or another great domaine like that, but enjoying a great wine is also about where and when you are drinking it, and who you are drinking it with is about so much more than what is in the bottle. One wine I have been enjoying this week is a relatively inexpensive Pinot Noir from Rippon in New Zealand.

Outside of your restaurant’s suppliers, which food shops and markets in Paris do you like to buy ingredients from?I love going down to Joel Thiébault, who grows amazing vegetables just outside Paris and sells them at his stall on the market on Avenue du Président Wilson. I get down there at 7.30am on Friday mornings, when they are pulling out their crates. His vegetables are out of this world! Also there is a great bakery where we get our bread for Frenchie called ‘Du Pain et Des Idées’ – and the other shops on rue du Nil around Frenchie, of course!

“I take as much pleasure from a great sandwich as I do from a 3 Michelin star restaurant. Loving food is a state of mind.”

Ingredients24 small leeks (not baby leeks, but very young)Sabayon3 egg yolks½ glass vin jaune (oxidised white wine from the Jura), or to taste125g clarified butterSalt and black pepper (a pinch or to taste)

Vinaigrette1 tbsp sherry vinegar2 tbsp grapeseed oil1 tbsp walnut oil1 tsp Dijon mustardSalt and black pepper (a pinch or to taste)

GarnishMixed leaves (roquette, mizuna, sorrel, watercress etc.)8 fresh walnuts1 20g melanosporum truffle