Paris Restaurants

Saturday nights are for Hôtel Costes, when as many tables as possible are packed into the courtyard and it feels like every young hedonist in Paris is drinking spicy margaritas.

Despite being on the edge of town, Le Cadoret is always packed. Bear in mind it’s a bistro that gives the people what they want: French classics done well and inexpensively.

Freddy’s is in the top five most-visited bar à vins of our Paris-resident friends. The rustic stone walls, pretty chevron floors, artfully arranged bundles of wildflowers in old glass bottles, the museum-quality ceramics you eat off, the casual stools you perch on—it’s intoxicating and feels as Paris as Paris can be.

Chefs Robert Compagnon and Jessica Yang are not afraid of a little culinary unorthodoxy, and unsurprisingly their thirty-seat Le Rigmarole is pretty indefinable.

C.A.M is one of those restaurants that chefs all over the world know about, eat at, and usually take most of the tables at. In other words, it’s not the easiest place to get a table.

Clown Bar’s exuberant interior dates back to the 1920s, and rather than looking old-fashioned and kitsch, the décor of bright yellow tiles and stained glass adorned with clowns and circus scenes is quirky and quite beautiful.

Nothing at Mokonuts is predictable, not even the cookies: Chocolate chips are traded for fennel, almond, and pickled lemon; coconut is paired with black pepper. Savory dishes are hyperseasonal, and the flavors are out of this world, with many of the spices and ingredients imported from Lebanon.

French-Asian cuisine is de rigueur in Paris right now, and Yam’Tcha easily knocks out half the competition. “Yam’Tcha” is Mandarin for “drink tea,” and this is a restaurant with an in-house Chinese tea sommelier—a pot of after-dinner silver needle is mandatory—and a full tea pairing with your meal is suggested (and yes, the wine is also abundant).

L’Avenue is an absolute scene—you should know this right off the bat. But most of the fun is sitting outside, on the corner of Avenue Montaigne, among a regular clientele of fashion designers, stylish Parisians, and trendy visitors.

Claus is one of those spots where you'll want to have your way with every dish on the menu (all-breakfast, all the time). There are granolas and toasts and eggs in every conceivable incarnation, and good god, so much pastry. Get a small window table upstairs, grab a newspaper, and take your time. There’s also granola: Claus will have you hooked one crunchy, subtly sweet, almost smoky bite in. And the tiny grocery store across the street that sells the stuff by the bag is the final piece of the master plan. There's also tea, coffee, and a dozen or so flavors of house-made jam. You'll buy all the jars you can carry with the best intentions of handing them out to friends back home. But even the best intentions…