In my mind, Diane Keaton can do no wrong – and yet I have a bone to pick with her praise of the roast chicken at Le Grand Colbert in Something’s Gotta Give.
Before we get to the chicken, however, let’s take a moment to admire this gorgeous dining room, a brasserie dating back to 1910 in a former private mansion first built in 1637. Located just behind the Palais Royal, it oozes luxe from its address to its chandeliers and mirrored walls.
It’s the perfect setting to tuck into classic French fare, especially at lunchtime when the Menu Bistrot prix fixe makes it far more affordable: 30 euros for two courses or 40 for three, as compared to an à la carte menu of appetizers ranging from 13 to 26 euros in daytime (and up to 29 at night) and mains hovering at around 35 (39-ish come nightfall). An extra bonus of the “lunchtime” prix fixe? During the week, it’s served from noon to 6pm, making it perfect for visitors to Paris dining a bit off-schedule as compared to the locals.
I of course went for the menu, and from a range of appetizers including egg-mayo, escargots, and oysters, I chose a petit salé style terrine made with slow-cooked salt-cured pork and lentils. Chunks of fork tender pork were bound with tender carrot and far fewer lentils than I might have thought, and the terrine was topped with mustard vinaigrette, cornichons, and chives. The generosity of the topping made up for the fact that, despite its name, the meat itself was a bit underseasoned, and overall, it paired nicely with a pair of crusty rolls.
My dining companion was hesitating between the dish of the day – steak-frites with shallot – or this rich duck confit (27) served with white beans and a tomato sauce, which proved to be a bit like a slightly less stodgy play on cassoulet. Ultimately, however, the dish was far too salty and probably not made in-house. (Though then again… rare is the duck confit that is.)
I meanwhile couldn’t resist that famous chicken… though maybe I should have.
The flavor was perfectly fine, but I suspect that it had been cooked long before it arrived at our table and was perhaps merely reheated in the pretty earthenware dish in which it was served. The skin was flabby, and the carrots looked as though they’d been through the war. Ostensibly, ironically, the dish wasn’t even on the menu until after the movie had been shot, so you’d think they’d manage something better than this.
The fries, it must be said, were excellent.
Upon reflection – and analysis with a dear friend who’s a restaurant expert and frequent flier at Le Grand Colbert – there is a chance I ordered poorly. She’s a fan of the majestic seafood platters, which suit the beautiful dining room to a t, as well as the quenelles with langoustine sauce. It’s a shame that what has become their signature dish isn’t as impressive, but I could see how a meal of that leans more into maximalism – sole meunière filleted tableside, for instance, or crêpes suzette flambéed with Grand Marnier – could add more magic to the meal.
If I go back, it would be for seafood, house-made fries (8), a house-made pastry from the vitrine, and, above all, to luxuriate in the setting.
Le Grand Colbert – 2, rue Vivienne, 75002






