I spend a lot of times in restaurants, and while I try to come into every experience with an open mind, I’ll admit: Sometimes, I’m biased.
More and more, these days, I find myself in places that feel more like a “concept” than a restaurant. I find myself almost wanting to dislike these restaurants, assuming they’ll feel soulless and that the food will be mid; that said, I’m more than happy to admit when my preconceived notion is wrong, and on a number of occasions, places that I assumed put more thought into their branding than into their cuisine have indeed surprised me.
On the flip side, there are restaurants that enchant me from the outset with their authenticity, places I want so badly to love. Generally, these are places with a real mission, a philosophy, if you will. And when these places ultimately end up disappointing me, it always breaks my heart.
It’s for this reason that I’ve remained silent about my experiences at Les Philosophes for such a long time. But today, that changes.
I have loved Xavier Denamur’s mission for a long time. This pioneer has, over the past few decades, become somewhat of an unofficial mayor of the Marais, championing the real food movement with his five restaurants, cafés, and bars. He notably is dedicated to ensuring that the classic Parisian café lives up to the dream, particularly at les Philosophes. Here, a no-reservations policy and all-day service increasing accessibility, whether you’re stopping in for an organic coffee or a whole meal. I love that he sources his ingredients so carefully, and I love that so much of the staff has worked there for decades. I love that Denamur himself is often swanning about the place or lending a hand to run plates when things get busy. But often, I’ve been disappointed by the food itself, finding myself picking at flavorless tartare or greasy fish of the day. As a result, no matter matter how picturesque or historic or mission-driven this restaurant is, I’ve found myself unable to recommend it.
And then I figured out Les Philosophes’ sweet spot. Ever since, I’ve happily been this Marais staple’s biggest cheerleader.
Les Philosophe’s menu is actually quite long for a Parisian café, encompassing everything from organic scrambled eggs to cheese plates, beef bourguignon to charcuterie, baguette sandwiches to copious meal salads. Among all of these choices, I’ve finally zeroed in on a handful of things it does particularly well. It’s no surprise to me that it shines in its simplicity; after all, it is, above all, a café.
One of the stars of the menu is the quiche (16), of which there are usually two on offer: a classic Lorraine with loads of chewy bacon and a vegetarian option that varies with the seasons.
I’ve tried spinach and goat cheese in autumn or courgette and summer squash in spring. No matter which one you choose, it’ll come with a generous salad studded with seasonal fruit, which is a delicious accompaniment and still doesn’t overpower the star, whose crust is buttery and crumbly and whose filling is rich and eggy.
The French onion soup (11), too, is excellent – and far lighter than most. I suspect it’s made with chicken broth, a pleasant deviation from tradition. It’s topped generously with Comté cheese and slices of the excellent baguette from Tout Autour du Pain, which also accompanies the main dishes.
Given my good experiences with these dishes, there are a few other menu items I’m pretty enticed by, including the seasonal tomato tatin (16) and Ganesh’s chicken curry, which is a special every Thursday. But if I haven’t tried either yet, it’s because I’ve become hooked on the Etoile Manquante salad (23).
This is one of a few meal salads on offer, standing out in its delightful simplicity. It features a jumble of seasonal crudités and fruits topped with an assortment of raw milk cheeses, which usually include Ossau-Iraty, Camembert, Comté, and Cantal.
The first time I ordered this salad, however, I asked if it would be at all possible to swap one of the hard cheeses for a slice of Carles Roquefort, which features on one of the other salads and is my very favorite Roquefort in France. Rather than a classic French non, my request was happily not just met but superceded: My server added the Roquefort to the salad, meaning I got four cheeses on a bed of fruit and veg, further cementing this place as one I absolutely love.
Some day, I may veer away from this go-to to taste one of the scrambles; some day, I may save room for a slice of the house tarte Tatin (12), of which only two are made each day.
But either way, I can finally happily recommend Les Philosophes for what it is: the emblematic, essential French café. Treat it as such, as a place where you can lean into simplicity, and it will not disappoint you.
Les Philosophes – 28, rue Vieille du Temple, 75004