A Russian, An American, and The Great Bistros of Paris

A Russian and an American meeting over coffee in Paris sounds like a scene in any good spy movie. But this was not that.

I woke up the day after Bastille Day and had plans for lunch, a classic steak frites at the legendary Le Relais de l'Entrecôte. 

But first, coffee, because life does not exist without coffee.

I found a coffee place named Café Nuances, not too far from the restaurant I was going to for lunch. It had a cool vibe, bright orange interior, delicious high quality coffee, and they were bumping 2000s R&B jams from my high school days.

I was sitting there, enjoying my coffee, bobbin’ my head, and noticed there was one other customer, a tall, slender, older European woman. She finished her coffee, got up and placed the empty cup on the counter and then graciously walked over to me. 

“Hi, can I talk to you for a moment?” She asked.

“Yes.” I said, intrigued.

“Oh ok, do you speak english?” She said.

“Yes” I replied.

“Oh, are you American?” She asked.

“Oui.” I said, now kind of nervous. Had I been found out? Did I make some classic American faux pas (funny faux pas is a French term we’ve adopted in English) ?

“Oh ok, good. Well I just wanted to come over and introduce myself, because no offense, I am a food coach and I would love to work with you.” She explained.

At first I thought maybe she meant she was a food tour guide and wanted to sell me a tour package to taste all the lovely pastries in the area or something like that.

Wrong.

“You know I’m Russian, and at one time I suffered from all of the same things you do. I would love to teach you how to eat properly, nutrition, this sort of thing. I am looking to get international clients and I would be willing to work with you for free, so you can learn to eat healthy but still enjoy food. Here’s my card, you can look me up on instagram and message me if you like.” 

Ah, I see the old chubby American in Paris routine. Damnit! I was worried maybe my “less than perfect but better than most Americans” French accent was going to be the thing that gave me away (and it often was, but sometimes it wasn’t!).

“Ummmm okay…sure I’ll check out your IG” I said as I chuckled at the absurdity of the conversation.

“Thank you so much. So what brings you to Paris?”

“I’M HERE TO EAT!!!” I said emphatically, a hair under a shout. 

Of course what I really meant was “BITCH I’M HERE TO FUCKING EAT EVERY GAHDDAMN THING I CAN OVER THE NEXT 5 DAYS CAUSE ITS MY FIRST TIME IN FRANCE AND I FUCKING LOVE FOOD AND ITS FUCKING PARIS WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK MY BIG BLACK ASS IS HERE TO DO?! JUST CAUSE KENDRICK LAMAR AND SZA HAPPEN TO BE IN TOWN THIS WEEK DOESN'T MEAN MY ASS ISN'T HERE TO EAT AND EAT SOME MORE!”

“And you will eat well, trust me, you’ll just learn how to eat better and eat right. Thanks for your time, enjoy your time in Paris!” She said as she got up to relieve me of the grave (but hilarious) indignity I had just experienced

“Merci.” I said.

I finished my coffee (had the ex-KGB health nut lady spoken to me while I was uncaffeinated I don’t know what would have happened) and walked over to Le Relais de l'Entrecôte and was seated right away at a nice outside table with a great view.

I ordered red wine and the waitress asked if I wanted a glass or half bottle and well you know, when in Paris…

“Half bottle. Bourdeaux. Left Bank.”

“Oui monsieur.” smiled the waitress.

With a nice simple side salad to start, the half bottle of wine starting to work its magic  alleviating the memory of my convo at the coffee shop.

Then came the famous steak frites, a perfectly cooked medium ribeye, sliced, and coated in a glorious, creamy, herbaceous green butter sauce that is rightfully the stuff of legend. Not to mention some very tasty, incredibly hot french fries. And after you finish savoring your incredible steak frites, guess what? They bring you another little portion to finish off. It was extremely delicious and I’m certainly going to try and make that sauce at home. A cappuccino to complete the wonderful meal and then it was time to walk some of it off.

I did a bit more sightseeing after lunch, walking by the Palais de Chaillot and taking a few pictures with the Eiffel Tower in the background. The Palais was actually closed off as they were still breaking down things from the Bastille Day festivities. A few metro stops later and I was in front of the Arc de Triomphe, the famous Napoleon monument centered in a large roundabout. I didn’t do a tour or anything, opting to simply admire it from across the street and take a few photos. I was starting to realize it would have been cool to do a John Wick tour as so many of these monuments and places of interest are featured in John Wick 4. 

That evening I dined at the famous Bistro Paul Bert. I had a hearty serving of foie gras served with toasted baguette and kumquat compote. It was rich, creamy, delicious, and representative of everything I came to Paris for. For my main I had the biggest, juiciest pork chop of my life. Served in a roasting pan with potatoes and root vegetables, it was decadent, soaking in its own juices, and incredibly tender. For dessert I had their famous Grand Marnier Souffle and a glass of XO armagnac. 

Superb.

Stuffed, I wobbled a few streets over to a trendy little vinyl bar called Fréquence. I’m always looking for a good cocktail bar or vinyl listening bar in my travels and this place did not disappoint with its interesting cocktail list, great selection of Japanese whisky, and a diverse collection of records. I had a few drinks and chatted with the bartenders who recommended some local record shops to check out.

Despite the encounter with the Russian nutritionist lady, it turned out to be a good day all and all.