Given the nature of my job, it’s rare that I get to return to a restaurant – even one I love. But I’ve managed to make an exception for Kubri, and my recent visit in September – my third, so far – wasn’t just my favorite: It cemented this restaurant as my current favorite in Paris.
The menu format here lends itself well to sharing, with a handful of homemade hummuses offered alongside a wide selection of mezze and a few larger plates designed for between two and six diners. I typically skip these so I’ve got room for more of the smaller plates.
The menu here does vary slightly depending on the season, but there are also a few stalwarts that remain or return frequently. I’m a big fan of this approach, as it means that Chef Rita Higgins has had the time to truly master these dishes – and that I can order my favorites again and again.
One of them is this charred quarter of hispi cabbage topped with an herby sauce, apricot pickles, loads of fresh oregano, shanklish cheese, and toasted peanuts (18). It’s exactly the kind of hearty, full-flavored, well-conceived vegetarian dish I wish were more available in Paris, with the perfect blend of textures and loads of umami-rich savoriness balanced by sweetness and acidity.
I’ll admit I’m always a bit less enthused by the halloumi kataif (12), though pretty much everyone else I’ve ever dined with here is in love with it. I think this is a me problem, seeing as I’m not the world’s biggest halloumi fan, and I also don’t really like the taste of frying oil. That said, this is objectively a lovely plate, with planks of halloumi are wrapped in loads of angel hair pastry and fried until crisp before begin generously drizzled with hot honey and sprinkled with dukkah and fresh oregano.
You cannot visit Kubri without ordering a hummus, and of the ones I’ve tried so far, this autumnal version crowned with red kuri squash (15) is my favorite. (No surprise, seeing as I’m a massive potimarron fan.) The silky, tahini-rich hummus was only improved by the sweet roasted pumpkin seasoned with za’atar and herbaceous, verdant olive oil. Hazelnuts were an obvious and welcome pair, and the fried oregano was a lovely finishing touch. We gobbled this one up, both on the copious free pita and right off of our forks.
I was (only slightly) less enthused by the more meat-focused dishes, like this admittedly tasty house-made beef sausage (18) served with a delicious roasted tomato sauce seasoned with paprika and paired with mejdool date relish for a touch of sweetness. They were lovely, just a touch less wow-worthy than the vegetarian offerings.
The same held for this play on beef tartare (18) with freekeh, smoked toum, and taro chips served with a little jug of olive oil for drizzling. Texturally speaking, the pairing of wheat and raw beef didn’t quite do it for me, though the flavors were, as ever, on point.
I found this octopus imsabaha (21) to be the most exciting of the non-plant-based offerings. The chunky mashed chickpeas was a lovely textural counterpoint to the crisp octopus, and I loved the vibrancy of the coriander salsa and turnip pickle when paired with the slightly bitter charred seafood.
One of my dining companions dug into this halwa ice cream semifreddo (13) for dessert. It was layered with dark chocolate, pistachio, and artisanal raw tahini and looked absolutely gorgeous.
But when it comes to dessert at Kubri, I’m a creature of habit: Nothing will do, for me, except the nammoura (13), a lemon-scented almond cake served with a generous dollop of honeyed labneh and calendula. The cake is brushed in a lovely lemon syrup which soaks into the already rich crumb. I’m generally a dessert sharer, but at Kubri, I need my own.
The creative, objectively delicious food would be reason enough to come to Kubri. But the experience is only improved by the beautiful dining room decorated in shades of dusty rose, where the tables are large enough to hold the bounty of plates. The staff, too, is charming and welcoming, which only further cements Kubri as an absolute Paris go-to.
Kubri – 108, Rue Amelot, 75011