One of the soapboxes I never seem to manage to get myself off of is that most bistros, especially the ones that Americans love, are actually bistronomic restaurants in disguise. I’m thinking about places like La Bourse et la Vie or Le Bistrot Paul Bert – places that may look or taste like bistros but run like restaurants. But if you’re looking for a real bistro, I’ve got one for you care of my dear friend Christian. Bistrot des Halles is the real deal, marrying good food with good wine and a phenomenal atmosphere.
This bistro is systematically filled to the brim – in fact, the least bistro-y thing about it may well be the fact that you need to make a reservation to eat here. But once you’re settled at your table, it feels like 1965 in the best of ways. The menu is a chalkboard, and there’s not a burrata (or, for that matter, anything vegetarian) in sight.
Instead, for starters, you’ll choose from among house-made terrine (9), escargots (18 for 6), or pig snout with ravigote (9.50) before digging into a meaty main of steak tartare (22.50) or andouillette (27.50). Specials might include veal rib steak with morels (34.50) or duck parmentier with foie gras (26.50). You know. Light stuff.
We started with perhaps the lightest options on the menu. The celery remoulade (12.50) is a subtle glow-up from the classic with a lighter, more mustard-driven dressing than most and bright juliennes of Granny Smith apple for even more zing. I really loved this slight departure and even forgave it that ’90s era squiggle of… balsamic? Maybe?
The egg-mayo (8) was comparatively disappointing. I was recently dining with another dear friend, Allison Zinder, who reminded me that the “jammy egg” is another bistronomic innovation, but if you ask me, there’s hard-boiled, and then there’s overcooked. These eggs weren’t of the best quality to begin with, and the yolks were so overcooked they were grey. The generous dollops of mayonnaise were nevertheless delicious, especially when paired with the crusty baguette from the always-amazing Julien.
It’s also the bread they use for their sandwiches, which are excellent and for which you do not need to wait in line. You can’t get these at dinner, but at lunchtime, one of my favorite things to do is elbow up to the counter here and watch as Vincent makes me a jambon-beurre positively slathered with butter and loaded with cornichons, which I munch standing while soaking up the ambiance.
But back to dinner.
Steak au poivre (28) is exactly as it should be: extremely rare, accompanied by a pile of deeply bronzed fries, and tough enough to require major wrist muscles, thanks to the grass-fed beef pervasive in France. But the flavor is there on both the charred exterior and rich interior, and the house-made pepper sauce, while thinner than some, is absolutely brimming over with flavor.
Desserts include standards like crème brûlée (11), chocolate mousse (12), and clafoutis (14), but on this particular visit, we were stuffed and called it a day. There’s always next time.
Le Bistrot des Halles – 15 rue des Halles, 75001