Shangri-La Hotel

Rue Sainte-Anne in the 1st is the city’s version of Little Tokyo: There’s a seemingly endless row of noodle shops and small Japanese joints. Of all the options, Kunitoraya is our favorite, thanks to its multi-varied udons. There’s a more upscale location around the corner on rue Villedo, but this outpost is more casual and rarely requires a wait.

Named for an infamous shipwreck—the boat was found intact, including its stores of liquor, though the crew had vanished—Le Mary Celeste got a lot of ink in the press when it opened: The young team behind this restaurant in the 3rd is the same one behind taqueria Candelaria. Like its sister restaurant, Le Mary Celeste has a drinks menu that's long and formidable, while the food menu is a bit more succinct. It’s all about oysters and other small plates that are intended to be shared. Though it does take reservations, it's just as easy to grab a seat at the bar.

When American couple Braden Perkins and Laura Adrian moved to Paris, they didn’t start with a restaurant: Instead, they cultivated their reputation through a series of under-the-radar dinner party-style seatings hosted out of their apartment. Called Hidden Kitchen, you could only land a reservation by booking online. The concept—and cooking—was so popular, the duo opened a permanent location, called Verjus, in 2010, situated in a small passageway across from the Palais Royal. It’s distinctly New American and it’s delicious. If you can’t stomach the prices (the tasting menu is 98 euros), hit the bar à vins next door.

While it’s now a few years old—and has been expanded from its original, 16-seat footprint—it’s still hard to get through the door at Spring. Chicago-native Daniel Rose’s prix-fixe fare, which is served out of the large open kitchen, is reliably excellent and continues to justify the hype. In fact, there’s no actual menu: In their words, they will just make you dinner, all sourced from the Places des Fêtes.

The chefs behind Septime seem to understand that you can’t fail when you start with the best fresh ingredients. This isn’t to say that the cool, pared-back space isn’t innovative—it just isn’t flashy.

Parisian dining has a reputation for being a little stodgy at times, what with the ubiquitous gilded interiors and price fixe-only menu—but at Le Servan in the 11th, you’ll find neither. Instead, chef Tatiana Levha, and her sister, Katia, offer up a short but sweet a la carte menu of Asian-inspired classics that changes pretty much daily. As for decor, it’s all neutral, with a brass-top bar. Walk-ins fare well at lunch, but make a reservation for dinner.

Top-quality sushi and sashimi is served alongside little else at this six-table spot on lle Saint-Louis. It’s tiny, so reservations are essential.

Nantes-born Gregory Marchand, who cooked under both Jamie Oliver and Danny Meyer (he earned his nickname “Frenchie” while cooking with Oliver), offers a subtle worldly perspective on classic French cooking via a tiny set menu (145 euros per person). Reservations are hard to get, though Marchand’s walk-in-only venture, Frenchie bar à vins, is an option should you fail to land a table, and there’s also his Italian restaurant down the street, Altro Frenchie.

Anne-Sophie Pic’s flagship restaurant in Valence has three Michelin stars, and the world expects La Dame de Pic to land the same rating. (It currently has one star, which it won in 2024.) Pic is ultra-talented, and her food feels rare and elegant. The high-concept menu here revolves around fragrance profiles—Pic partnered with Phillip Bousseton, the nose from Takasago—which makes for an unusual and unabashedly sensual experience.

The chef’s daily market visits direct the brief all-organic, Italian-inflected menu at this fittingly tiny restaurant (only 15 seats). Expect dishes like French beans with octopus and wild mushroom spaghetti.

The dining room might not look like all that much, but this is one of those restaurants that changes how people think about food. Chef Inaki Aizpitarte, a pioneer in Paris’s neo-bistro scene, deconstructs traditional French dishes and reassembles them in wildly inventive, globally influenced ways. Despite the kitchen fireworks, it never feels pretentious here, which is probably why locals and tourists alike line up out the door to get a table.

Yves Camdeborde was so busy at his popular Left Bank restaurant, Le Comptoir, that he opted to accommodate the overflow by opening a tiny bar à vin next door. Though it’s standing room only, which is quite common in Paris, the delicious Béarnais-style small plates are worth tempting discomfort. We promise it’s a pleasant experience.

It takes nerve (and talent) for an American to take a French concept and re-create it for a famously hard-to-please Parisian audience. In chef Jody Williams's case, her French-inspired wine bar, Buvette, has been embraced with open arms. She tested the concept in New York first—there is a much-loved West Village outpost—and exported her gastrothèque to Paris, to rave reviews. In this romantic, perfectly Parisian little wine bar, you can expect a wonderful cocktail and wine list, and a petite menu of small versions of dishes like coq au vin, moules, and tartines. They also serve several local, seasonal salads—good ones are still hard to find in many traditional French restaurants.

The menu is plucked directly out of Southeast China, showcasing picks like wok-fried pigeon, steamed sea scallops with vermicelli, and perfect salmon, served with shredded fruit. The dining room is gilded, ornate, and luxe, which is exactly what you’d expect from the Shangri-La Hotel.

While it's nearly impossible to get a reservation at Septime—and a bar stool at the wine bar is hard to come by, too—you’ll probably have better luck at the owners' venture, Clamato, a seafood-centric joint that doesn't take reservations. Also, it’s open all day on Saturday and Sunday, which is a rarity in Paris.

Classic and inventive dishes get the two Michelin star treatment at the hands of Landes-born and fourth generation chef Hélène Darroze. With additional restaurants in London and Marrakesh, the menu has a global touch with deeply local roots: Darroze uses area providers, and bases her dishes on what’s seasonally appropriate. Her quiet and restrained approach can be felt in the room’s decor as well, which is hushed and elegant.

This quaint little restaurant serves excellent French food—cassoulet, steak tartare, and chocolate cake—in an unstuffy Art Nouveau dining room. The adjoining shop, complete with ham hocks hanging from the rafters, has a killer selection of French wines, cheeses, and other specialty items.

This is a true trattoria in the middle of Paris, with great platters of antipasti, thin-crust pizzas, and surprisingly big bowls of house-made pasta (definitely not the skimpy starter size—these are mains). The interior immediately suggests a good time with long electric-blue leather benches running the length of the walls, offset by yellow table mats on quintessentially Parisian round tables. Expect a tight squeeze: This place is perpetually packed with locals downing glasses of sparkling Lambrusco and rounding off with a few bites of the sublime tiramisu.

In a city filled with good, classic restaurants, it's hard to narrow it down to a few favorites, but Le Fontaine de Mars is one of those old-world bistros that constantly draws you back in. Once inside, no one would blame you for thinking that nothing has changed in a hundred years—and maybe it hasn't: Pink tablecloths, mirrored walls, and retro floor tiles abound. Keep your order to the tried-and-true classics, good steak-frites or coq au vin with a large glass of red is the way to go here.

If you've overindulged on steak-frites and can't handle the thought of another buttery sole meunière, eschew the delicious but heavy bistro classics for some Mediterranean at Bonhomie. A café meets cocktail bar meets restaurant near the chic Marais district, sitting on a royal-blue leather stool in the beautiful, modern, white-and-gold interior feels like a breath of fresh air. The menu leans on Moroccan influences with a former Frenchie chef at the helm—dishes like minty chickpeas and labneh and harissa lamb with tabbouleh take center stage. If you happen to pass by at an odd afternoon hour, a coupe de champagne at the long marble bar is the way to go.

Le Dauphin is immediately next door to its sister restaurant, Le Chateaubriand. Locals hover around the marbled bar (there are only a handful of tables) for well-priced—though complex—small plates and surprisingly affordable wine.

This first-come-first-serve wine bar is a tough seat for good reason: The small plates are crafted from superb ingredients, and the wine list is reasonably priced. Closed on weekends, you can usually snag a spot in the first wave by going early in the week, and arriving 20 minutes before the 7pm opening.

While you can take your low-sulfite wine to go at this former shoe repair shop, you can also grab a seat at the bar and snack while you drink: Sausages, anchovies, and cheese all get the Septime treatment here.

Tucked away beneath its parent restaurant upstairs (the excellent, prix-fixe Verjus) this more casual bar à vin lives in a cool vaulted cave and serves innovative small plates. Bonus: The wine list is top notch.

For over 40 years, Michel Pierre has transformed medicinal plants into herbal infusions, nutritional supplements, essential oils, and cosmetics. The staff will prescribe based on your ailments, though there's plenty of lovely stuff here that is more preventative then curative.

Though it's often (mistakenly) credited as being the first department store, there's no doubt that Le Bon Marché's founders, Aristide and Marguerite Boucicaut, were pioneers, particularly in a culture that so adamantly prizes specialty stores. Launched in 1838 as an extension of the Boucicaut's single market stall, it became a fixed-price department store in 1850 (before that, you would barter), moving into its sweeping, Art Deco home in 1867. While it's been expanded several times since (and now belongs to LVMH), it's still inarguably one of the most beautiful, large-scale shops in existence. Whether you're looking for Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Maje, or Iro, it's likely here: Along with lingerie, kids clothing, furniture, household essentials, and shoes and bags. The food hall, La Grande Épicerie, is pretty insane, offering a rich array of specialty products, from Fauchon macarons to Baltic smoked fish. Many visitors concentrate their buying power here in order to hit the spending level required for VAT.

Though it’s well located on Rue Saint-Honoré, this is the sort of spot that’s easy to walk right by. Inside it’s dimly lit, cloister-like, and achingly cool, complete with rickety, slightly off-kilter shelves that sag under the weight of Astier de Villatte’s ceramic tableware. Made from black terra-cotta clay and then finished in the brand’s signature milky white, these perfectly imperfect dishes are the hallmark of some of the best-dressed tables we know. You’ll also find the house line of geometric-print, gold-rimmed notebooks (made by the last master printer in Paris) and the gorgeously old-fashioned candle and incense collections, along with a handful of oddities, like glassware cast in the shape of skulls and stout little teapots.

Since 1820, E. Dehillerin has been outfitting the kitchens of Paris with copper pots, paring knives, whisks—and a million other ingenious gadgets nobody ever knew they needed. It is a huge store and an incredible resource, though come with full pockets (and plenty of room in your suitcase). They also sell online and ship globally.

Dotted with truly beautiful fish murals—all hand-painted on tile—this is one of those family-owned businesses where it's clear they hold a deep respect for what they do. And at this 30-year-old poisonnerie, they do the freshest fish in Paris. When we visited, they were offering beautiful jumbo crab claws along with a variety of in-season whole fish and fillets.

Occupying an old-world, village-like square, this market near the Bastille bustles with locals stocking up on their weekly groceries. When you need to catch your breath, head to Le Baron Rouge, a great wine bar just around the corner.

Parisians swear Pierre Hermé's macarons are the best in town, and we're inclined to agree. After all, the pastry wunderkind (he began his career as an apprentice to Gaston Lenôtre at the age of 14, before becoming the pastry chef of Fauchon when he was only 24) is known for infusing his ganaches with interesting combinations, like his famous Ispahan, which blends rose, lychee, and raspberry. The chocolates and croissants shouldn't be missed either.

The variegated marble walls, cow figurines, mosaic tile floor, and checkered apron staff sure are charming—but it's all totally unnecessary, too, as we'd happily visit a broom closet for the cheeses here. Sitting on top of a hilly street in the 9th, you'll find a country's worth of varieties—both stinky and delicate—and the know-how behind the counter to point you to something you're going to love. For those who are just passing through, they can vacuum pack fragile cheeses for travel.

With the Eiffel Tower as a stunning backdrop, this market focuses on produce and fresh seafood. There are also stands for escargots, meat, eggs, and a smattering of home goods.

Literally packed to the rafters with cheese, this is one of those tiny little spots you'll smell before you see. Owner Nicole Barthélemy and her team of cheese mongers will always let you sample before you buy—though the recommendations tend to be so spot-on, you arguably won't have to test many. For whatever reason, they don't tolerate photos in the shop—should you whip out your camera, you'll get scolded.

With more than 150 stalls, this is one of the largest open-air markets in Europe, and one any food lover will not want to miss. Beyond fresh veggies, fruits, eggs, and cheese, there are plenty of vendors who sell premade meals, perfect for an impromptu picnic. It happens three times a week.

Complete with cobblestone streets, a bubbling fountain, stands full of fresh flowers, and heaps of fresh bread, cheese, and charcuterie, Marché Monge is pretty much the quintessential Parisian market. Jardin des Plantes is only a few blocks away, so it's a great pit stop before an afternoon of picnicking.

At 400 years old, the Marais-based Marché des Enfants Rouges is worth browsing whether you're hungry or not (you can always stock up on fresh-cut flowers, ephemera, and larder-worthy oils and preserves). But bring an appetite—you'll find a seemingly endless sprawl of food vendors hawking everything from tagines to crepes to hearty sandwiches. Our pick: Chez Taeko's stand, which serves delicious, authentic Japanese fare.

The farm behind this mini-chainlet is located in the Loire valley, where they make a range of unpasteurized cheeses, butters, yogurts, and crème fraîches from scratch—while aging the cheeses of area farmers. The demi-sel croquant unpasteurized butter is crazy delicious, and portable, as they're happy to vacuum pack it for the plane.

For more than 200 years, Goumanyat has been a go-to spot for Parisian chefs looking for hard-to-find ingredients and spices. They specialize in saffron, which is stored in huge glass jars behind the counter, and grown on their farm in Iran. They’re located in a fittingly historic space that was formerly an apothecary, but they keep very irregular hours, so it’s best to call ahead before you drop by.

You could spend hours in this shop, where the walls are lined with imported spices and large sacks filled with lentils, rice, and other staples dot the floor. Owned and operated by the same couple for many years, it’s become somewhat of an institution.

A rolling ladder and packed floor-to-ceiling shelves underscore the library-like nature of this storied spice shop: Here, you'll find an encyclopedia worth of salts and peppers, mustards, chutneys, infused oils, and any number of spices. The main draw, though, are the Roellinger house mixes, like the Mauritius-inspired Poudre d'Or, which combines coriander, turmeric, West Indian bay, and unripe mango powder. Since no cookbook calls for this specific mixture, they make pairing suggestions (oysters and shellfish), and even offer links to recipes for those of us who are easily intimidated chefs.

Stalks of bamboo dangle from the ceiling like hundreds of wind-chimes at this Saint-Germain-des-Prés spot, which is the first outpost outside of Japan for the historic, 19th-century teahouse, Jugetsedo. Upstairs, you can sample any number of green tees, from earthy Sencha, to nutty Genmaicha, to creamy Macha. In the cellar-like basement, you can participate in a full, uber-traditional tea service.

We like to take a detour here while shopping on Rue Vieille du Temple. Though the buckwheat crepes are the main draw, there’s a small shop attached to the café that sells jams, ciders, and delicious cheeses.

This cozy little Spanish shop and restaurant serves up great tapas and solid selection of Spanish wine, but their real specialty is the store’s namesake charcuterie. Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, which comes from acorn-finished hogs, is the crème de la crème of cured meats. Their gift baskets, with include a few different varieties, make great gifts for fellow foodies.

Located between the 16th and 7th arrondisements, the quiet, well-mannered vibe of this market is well suited to its upscale clientele. (It’s a great option if you’re the kind of shopper who is easily overwhelmed by shouting vendors and pushy customers.) As for the wares, expect fresh bread, flowers, seafood, olives, spices, vegetables, cheese, fruit, and even prepared foods. Friends tell us that farmer Joël Thiébault (who owns a family-run vegetable operation just outside the city) is a standout for his unique, visually stunning heirlooms.

Marché Barbès is underneath a train trestle at the Barbès Metro station, and the rumble of the trains above only adds to the boisterous atmosphere of the place, which is always packed to the brim with shoppers rushing around and haggling with vendors. The goods here can be much less expensive than those in other markets around town, and while you probably won’t find a rare artisanal cheese, you can stock up on necessities for the week without breaking the bank.

Baker Christophe Vasseur has won innumerable awards for the pastries at his tiny corner boulangerie in the 10th, which makes perfect sense. Don’t be put off by the lines—which extend around the block—since the effort justifies the wait. Do as the locals do and come here to stock up on daily bread, along with pain aux raisin, and the chausson à la pomme fraîche (puff pastry stuffed with half of a baked apple).

Whether you’re a baker or not, G. Detou is worth a visit. The walls are stacked (literally) from floor to ceiling with specialty baking ingredients for even the most ambitious baking project: artisian flower, specialty oils, metallic cake decorations, and even edible flowers. Their selection of dark chocolate is one of the best in the city.

Offering bilingual cooking classes, La Cuisine Paris teaches the basics of French cooking along with master classes in everything from macarons to poultry. If you're booking in August, make sure to ask whether they are taking Mondays off.

This mini-chainlet is now five Paris locations strong (with an outpost in London), which makes a lot of sense: The bread really is distinguishably excellent, which in a place like Paris, says a lot. Though the sourdough loaves fly off the shelves, we love their nut breads—along with the fact that you can purchase by the half or quarter loaf if you can't take down the entire thing.

Enlisted by Louis XIV's court to explore the tea trade in the 1600s, Nicolas and Pierre Mariage sailed the globe in search of new offerings, passing the mantle down from generation to generation. In 1854, Henri and Edouard Mariage settled on land and launched a tea wholesale business in Paris, catering to the city's finest hotels and restaurants. They didn't open their doors to the public until the 1980s—and business has been brisk, to say the least, ever since. Outfitted with furnishings from the original Mariage Frères office (oversize tea canisters, heavy cabinetry, wicker furniture, potted palms), the Marais outpost offers a literal world of teas—along with small eats and a smattering of home goods, like teapots and gorgeously scented candles (Darjeeling is our favorite). There are outposts all over the city.

Paris is one of those special cities that enthusiastically clings on to the more traditional, elegant remnants of the past—Angelina is an embodiment of this policy. A classic tearoom that first opened in 1903, the over-the-top Belle Epoque interiors create the ambiance for a truly decadent hour (or two) of sweet indulgence. The sculptural cakes and classic patisserie that line the glass cases are the perfect accompaniment to the main event: Angelina's world-renowned hot chocolate. We recommend the Old Style Hot Chocolate, made from a blend of cocoa beans whipped into hot milk and cream for the smoothest, slightly sweet, slightly bitter cup. Angelina also serves up well-executed classic French dishes like croque-madame and quiche Lorraine, but really it's the chocolate—and the people-watching—that makes this Paris institution a favorite with locals and tourists alike.

A good part of the local population is of the opinion that Pierre Hermé makes the best macarons in the city. As for the éclairs, croissants, and cakes? You'll just have to do the taste-testing for yourself. This particular outpost is massive, with a sumptuous Art Deco interior to match the contents of the pastry cases. A pretty box of Hermé’s delicately-flavored macarons veloutés (essentially meringue-like macaroons stuffed with a creamy filling) never fails to impress and makes for the perfect, easily-packed gift to bring back home.

Built in 1928, this opulent, eight-story hotel—just steps from the Champs Elysée—is pretty much the gold-standard for city-based, luxury hotels. It’s never a bargain, but if your budget can support the splurge, there’s really no better place to stay. Besides the lavishly-appointed rooms, the service is superb, the restaurant boasts three Michelin-stars, and the location is hard to beat.