One of the misconceptions about being a food writer that surprises me the most is the widely held belief that culinary scribes only like "fancy" food. I was thinking about this today at lunchtime when I was much too busy than do more than make a very quick omelette a la campagnard. The omelette was just fine, too–fresh organic eggs, potatoes, lardons (bacon chunks) and Gruyere, but while I consumed this solitary feast, I couldn’t help but thinking about a sublime lunch I’d last week in a fish restaurant called La Luna, one of the best seafood addresses in Paris.

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Forget about April in Paris and give me May. This is my favorite time of the year, when there are fava beans, asparagus, early cherries and tomatoes and bunches of garden peonies for sale in my Saturday morning market on the boulevard des Batignolles. The lushness of late Spring in France never ceases to delight, and there’s no time of the year when it’s so easy to do bona-fide market cooking, like the delicious salad of wheat berries, fava beans, chopped tomato, fresh coriander, tiny cubes of Corsican ham, and cumin-seed-flecked Gouda with a lemon juice and olive oil vinaigrette that I made for lunch last Saturday.

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During my recent book tour around the United States, many people asked me if the wilting dollar had made Paris completely unaffordable. I was happy to share the good news with them–even though the dollar is soggy at the moment, Paris offers the best-value dining of any major European city. Proof perfect is Le Hide, a fantastic new bistro run by genial Japanese chef Hide Kobayashi, a very talented chef who trained with Joel Robuchon, Dominique Bouchet, Jacques Cagna, and a variety of other French cuisine chefs before going out on his own and opening this very jolly, friendly little bistro not far from the Arc de Triomphe.

Hide’s 29 Euro three-course menu changes according to the seasons, but our table of four loved starters of white asparagus with a mimosa (seized hard-boiled egg) vinaigrette, a superb terrine of duck foie gras, and marinated salmon with a warm buckwheat crepe and a dollop of unctuous Creme d’Isigny, an ivory-colored creme fraiche with so much butter fat a spoon stands up in it, and also a succulent braised shoulder of lamb with white beans and tomatoes, an excellent faux filet (steak) from star butcher Hugo Desnoyers, and carpaccio of scallops with white truffle oil and a salad of lamb’s ear lettuce. Tarte tatin offered another excuse to consume some more of that Creme d’Isigny, while ile flottante (floating island) with salted-caramel ice cream was bliss. The wine list offers a variety of nicely chosen and fairly priced bottles, and service couldn’t be friendlier. I left looking forward to my next meal here, and since I’m not alone, make sure to reserve, since word is getting around on this one.

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Though the recent renovation of Chez Julien is a big success–its beautiful painted glass ceiling of pudgy cherubim has been cleaned up and some tromp l’oeil fun created by the peek-a-boo window between the main dining room downstairs and the bar area, the food–a typically dumbed-down for trendy young Parisians menu–was an expensive disappointment at dinner the other night. Green asparagus were overcooked, boringly sauced with asparagus puree, and almost chilly when they came to the table after a very long wait, and foie gras had a curiously waxy taste and sheen. Both a cod steak and a sole meuniere were disasterously over-cooked, and the Fleurie from a vertiginously priced wine list was completely forgettable at 41 Euros. The only reason to consider this place is that it has a charming little terrace that will doubtless become one of the hottest al fresco dining scenes in Paris this summer (especially since this restaurant is run by Thierry Costes of the Hotel Amour and Alex Chapon of the Bistro Vivienne is targeting the same bright and pretty young things who frequent both of these establishments). So yearning for some fresh air in a quiet corner of the Marais, order as simply as possible–maybe the terrine maison, a bavette (hanger steak) or a cheese plate, but give anything more ambitious a miss. 1 rue Pont-Louis-Philippe, 4th, 01.42.78.31.64. Metro: St-Paul or Pont-Marie. Open daily. Average 45 Euros.

There’s no mystery as to why this Seattle lady looks so happy–she’s having dinner at Le Pichet. Though some American chefs who cook French and French chefs in America have succeeded admirably at recreating reasonably bona fide bistro food outre Atlantique, one very crucial ingredient of any real French bistro seems to elude almost everyone–the atmosphere. Not surprisingly, most attempts to invoke Paris in North America come off with a Disney-esque spin, or so I thought until I went to the absolutely delightful Le Pichet in Seattle (1933 1st Avenue, 206-256-1499). Low and behold, this place gets it all right–the fixtures, the lighting, the bonhommie, le tout, quoi! The food’s excellent, too–dining with friends, we started with tasting plates of delicious local oysters served a la Bordelaise with grilled chipolata sausage, a succulent Pate Albigeois–the finest pate I’ve ever had the United States, and then went on to a very respectable rendition of choucroute garnie (sauerkraut with homemade sausages), duck confit, and a hanger steak with a delicious sauce of beef jus, red wine and fava beans. A respectable selection of cheeses allowed us to finish off our Louis Claude Desvignes Cote du Py Morgon, 2006, a brilliantly juicy red, and the wine list was trove of great Gallic bottles at very fair prices, including one of my back-in-Paris house whites–Domaine des Gassagnoles Cotes de Gascogne. Bravo!

Midway through my trip around the United States, I’ve been fascinated by this opportunity to see what and how America is eating today. So here are a few rants and raves to date.

RAVES

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