Emily in France 🇫🇷 How to Make an Old City Feel New
A wander in the 17th arrondissement
When you've been living in a city for a long time, it’s easy to become complacent. After 17 years, I’ve begun to take my city for granted, especially since I started walking as my primary means of locomotion. After five years without a métro pass, it started to feel as though I'd already walked every Parisian street more times than I can count.
Luckily, I was proven wrong on a recent excursion with a friend to the 17th arrondissement.
The 17th is to Paris’ northwest, a formerly residential neighborhood that’s been getting more attention, in recent years, thanks in part to the arrival of a plethora of young Top Chef alums. But the draws here are far from solely culinary.
Our walk took us from the 10th to the 17th, traversing the 9th on the way. Here, we could already begin to see a different sort of architecture take hold.
Unlike much of the rest of the city, heavily marked by Haussmann’s limestone, iron, and slate, this bit of the city boasts loads of variation and color. At 30, rue de Londres, this mosaic façade dating back to 1920 was originally the headquarters for the Société Française des Eaux Minérales, a company based in Ardèche that marketed local mineral water from Vals-les-Bains.
The mosaic game stayed strong as we wandered past this pretty building on rue Legendre.
Rue Poncelet is a market street of the kind you’ll find in many neighborhoods in Paris, but this one is far less touristy than ones like rue Mouffetard. I loved the gorgeous bouquets of flowers for sale, transforming the street into a sort of garden.
My friend was horrified to learn that I had never visited Parc Monceau, so we made sure to spend some time wandering this lovely green space.
Built in 1852, the park stands out for its fantastic "follies" like an Egyptian pyramid, Dutch windmills, and even a Roman temple.
It’s also home to absolutely gorgeous flower beds.
Saint Alexandre Nevsky Cathedral is a hidden gem on rue Daru. The neo-byzantine Russian Orthodox church is known for its gorgeous central fresco, not to mention its lovely chandeliers.
It's only open for visits on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays from 3pm to 6pm, and it was purely fortuitous timing on our part that meant that we got to take a look inside.
We finished with drinks and dinner at wine bar Trouble, a new-to-us spot that has us totally smitten. It was the perfect end to a day of navigating our home like tourists… and falling a bit more in love with it.
Cheese of the Week
While visiting Ireland earlier this year, I picked up a handful of local cheeses to try including Mount Leinster, a clothbound cheddar with a complex flavor balancing a lovely fruitiness with nutty complexity and rich, brothy, almost meaty notes. The raw cow's milk cheese is aged for twelve months to help it develop its rich flavor.
To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france, subscribe to my YouTube channel, and tune into the Terroir Podcast, where Caroline Conner and I delve into France's cheese, wine, and more one region at a time.
What I’m Eating
Trouble stands out from other small-plate-natty-wine bars thanks to the sheer audacity of the ultra-talented Stefano De Carli, previously of Verre Volé and Passerini. His Roman background suffuses the border-bending menu with absolutely delightful combinations, including a tuna tonnato cheesesteak (yeah, you read that right) that had me totally floored. More on the blog.
Where I’m Going
1. To HOBA, where I’ll be emceeing a spoken word event hosted by the founders of Version Originale, a bilingual literary review published here in Paris. (Deets above!)
2. To the Orangerie, to pay Monet’s most famous works a visit.
3. To Assaggio, where Chefs Sasha Arandjelovic and Ugo Alciati, the latter of whom is an international ambassador for Alba white truffles, are offering a four-course meal highlighting this seasonal bounty.
What I'm Writing
1. Britain might not be your first destination for artisan cheese, and frankly, that's a shame. The British Isles don't just have a rich history of cheesemaking; they're also home to some of the most daring cheesemakers crafting new creations. Here are the ones experts say you need to try. For The Takeout.
2. The next time you fly Air France, look a bit closer at the wine list. Far from banal, it’s curated by one of the world’s top sommeliers, Xavier Thuizat, an industry vet with years of Michelin-starred experience under his belt and who, this year, earned the Michelin Guide’s Grand Prix in Sommellerie. For Bonjour Paris.
3. From the archives: Those looking to dine out in Paris have no shortage of choices—and, for that matter, no shortage of lists telling them which old classics are unmissable and which newly opened hot spots are worth the hype. But if you really want to know where to eat in Paris, it’s best to go straight to the city’s best source: its chefs. For Fodor’s.
What I'm Saying
When we describe something as exceptional in English, we're alluding to the way it stands out in a positive way. But in French, the opposite is often true. Journalist and writer Hannah Meltzer joins me on Navigating the French to delve into this oddity as we navigate exceptionnellement.
FAQs
With the goal of bringing you the content you crave, I've solicited your help. What questions can I answer for you? Drop them into the newsletter chat, and I’ll answer as many as I can!
This week's question comes from Instagram user Lisager1957, who also happens to be my aunt.
“Hi, Em! I love Brie, but different ‘brands’ here don't specify the origins, so I never know what I'm getting. What's the name of the one with the ‘mushroom-almond’ tones? That's what I look for, but I never know what I'm getting. I need to see it in writing, since my ear can't process French. 🤪”
Lisa was referring to my mention of Fougerus last week – and unfortunately, this is one of many Brie-like cheeses that are impossible to get in the U.S.
Brie is a bloomy-rinded family of cheese that originally hails from the former region of Brie, just to the east of Paris. There have flourished a number of different related recipes, each of which bears the name, today, of the market town where the style was most popular.
Brie de Meaux is perhaps the best-known: a flat, relatively thin wheel measuring a whopping 37 centimeters in diameter (14 1/2 inches). It’s a relatively mild-mannered crowd-pleaser with briny notes and a lovely root vegetably earthiness.
Brie de Melun is another popular variety, with a much more assertive, footier character stemming in part from the lactic fermentation at the heart of this ancestral cheese’s production.
Both Brie de Meaux and Brie de Melun boast an AOP protecting their names and production methods. The other Bries, including local Brie de Montereau, Brie de Nangis, Brie de Provins, and (Brie de) Coulommiers aren't quite so lucky. Brie de Nangis is nevertheless notable in being the source of the recipe behind most Bries exported to America – but more on that in a sec.
Because the word “Brie” is not protected, you’ll find cheeses bearing the name made all over France – and indeed, all over the world. Cheeses like the goat’s milk Brie from Poitou in the picture above are delicious additions to the category, but the “Brie” exported into the U.S. often pales in comparison to what you’ll find in France, no matter which Brie you buy.
This is down to the fact that soft cheeses like Brie must be pasteurized to be sold in the U.S. – even French Bries like President (aka Lactalis). A cheese that boasts loads of complexity in France thus typically ends up having a flavor more akin to wallpaper paste in America, leading many of my compatriots (and, occasionally, myself) to marry Brie with jam and bake it wrapped in layers of pastry. It kind of needs the help.
But if you love real French Brie and live in America, you're in luck. Baron Bigod is one cheese that tastes remarkably similar to Brie de Meaux, with an almost cauliflower cheese vibe. It’s made by the folks at Fen Farm Dairy in Suffolk from the milk of free-range Montbéliarde cows.
When I shared this info with Lisa, she was understandably flummoxed. “So, in order to get a good brie, I have to buy a British one.”
Kind of?
Baron Bigod is pasteurized, but thanks to the artisan craftsmanship of the cheese, it doesn't pale in comparison to its raw milk brethren. For me, it’s the only Brie worth buying in the U.S. (But if you have any suggestions for other contenders, I’m happy to give them a try when I’m Stateside in December. For science, bien sûr.)
I mean… just look at her.
What I'm Reading
1. Impossible City analyzes not just French but specifically Parisian culture from the perspective of a third culture expat who accidentally made it his home. As a result, it's clear-eyed and almost devoid of fantasy, relying instead on the facts of Paris' history – and more importantly, its present – in tracing its development as a global city. Exploration of the city's diversity and the ways in which it has long been divided from its banlieues are particularly interesting, as are the insights into what makes the city's ruling class tick. (Hint: It's not money.) A must-read for any Francophile.
2. My favorite piece of restaurant criticism has long been A. A. Gill’s takedown of L’Ami Louis, but it has competition, now, with this tribute to le Veau d’Or from Helen Rosner, which is a pure joy to read. In the New Yorker.
3. This story about how one French cheesemaking region is using byproducts from Beaufort to power the grid. In ZME Science.
A bientôt !