While, for better or worse, I love trying new restaurants, there a few places that I eat at a lot. These four are among my favourite restaurants in Paris, restaurants that if you are looking for great food (rather than a great view) you'd do well not to miss.

Chez L'Ami Jean

27 rue Malar
75007
Phone: 01 47 05 86 89
Metro: La Tour Marbourg
www.amijean.eu

OK, the cat's been out of the bag on this one for a while now. It's a chaotic room, with friendly, if at times, frazzled service. This is definitely not a place for gazing into your lover's eyes over candlelight, but if you don't mind being close to your neighbour (I'm talking thigh-rubbing, elbow-knocking close) then this restaurant is a must whenever you're in Paris.

It's hard to pick a favourite restaurant here. There are so many good ones, each offering a slightly different experience. But if someone stuck that proverbial gun to my head and forced me to name mine, then I would probably have to say Chez L'Ami Jean. And gun or no gun, it's a designation I don't take lightly. My first time here, I ate the best cod I have ever eaten. It was simple, yet the earth (fresh basil and mozzarella), the sun (unbelievably ripe tomato) and the sea (cod cooked to perfection) came together on my plate and in my mouth in an event I can only describe as unadulterated bliss. I'm not exaggerating. I was changed. I still dream of reliving gastronomic rapture such as I experienced eating that cod. Far from a one hit wonder, Chez L'Ami Jean has proven itself consistent. Sablefish topped with beet chips. Stuffed cornish hen thighs. Each divine. And Froggy has been known to shamelessly wolf down the entire jar of potato purée served here as a side.

I won't lie. It can be hectic here. Most gastro-bistrots aim to turn their tables twice, but I've been told that Chez L'Ami Jean tries to turn their tables at least 3 times. That means if you are arriving for anything but the first service, you will likely have to wait. I've waited for over 30 minutes for a table with a reservation – don't even bother if you don't have one. Mind you, we were served some charcuterie and wine while we waited, but there is no adequate bar area, so this practice makes for a cramped, very busy room. But hey, if volume like this keeps the prices down, I'm all for it. At 34 euros for three courses, this menu really is one of the best deals in town.

And quite frankly, I like the atmosphere. It tends to loosen people up. While Parisians are used to being crammed into close quarters with strangers (take, for example, the unbelievably small aisles of the metro or apartments where you can stick your arm out the window and touch your neighbours across the vis-a-vis), they generally try to ignore them. But at Chez L'Ami Jean, a man two tables down will lean over his neighbour to ask about your plate. This is a place where a Japanese businessman, who ordered a deconstructed rice pudding, thought nothing of asking down a row of tables 'Comment on mange ça? Comment on mange ça?'. We were of no help. We couldn't stop laughing. Of course, he was laughing too. Comic and absurd. This is the effect of great food.

Le Beurre Noisette

68 rue Vasco de Gama
75015
Phone: 01 48 56 82 49
Metro: Lourmel


Le Beurre Noisette is a gastro-bistrot in the middle of nowhere - with really great food. They used to have an amazing appetizer – pig's feet carpaccio with lentils topped with shaved parmesan. I haven't seen it for a while, but if they have this when you are there, order it. It is outstanding! I have also had sumptuous medallions of lamb and pork belly here so soft and tender it melted like butter on my tongue. And Froggy swears that the fromage blanc served with strawberries and pineapple was the best he ever had . I'd trust his opinion – this is one frog who loves his fromage blanc.

The room is larger and quieter than Chez L'Ami Jean(and the tables further apart). The service is friendly, but like most places with a quality to price ratio like this (3 courses – 35 euros, 6 course tasting menu - 45 euros), it can get busy. It's a little bit off the beaten path, but this restaurant is a close second to Chez L'Ami Jean. So go!

Croccante

148 rue Vaugirard
75015
Phone: 01 47 83 37 28
Metro: Falguiere

As I live in France, I eat a lot of French food and drink a lot of French wine. However, those who know me know that I love (love, love) Italian food and wine. So I was delighted to discover the real deal here in Paris less than a 20 minute walk from my door.

When you enter Croccante, there will likely be a line. And you will almost certainly be greeted by a short, stout man, who sings out 'Buona Sera', from wherever he is in the room, every time someone walks through the door. While the food here is traditional south Italian fare, I can't think of another place that does it better (or more authentically) here in Paris. Appetizer offerings include a bresaola carpaccio prepared in the classic way with olive oil and lemon, served over arugula and with parmesan cheese. The vegetable antipasti is among the best I've had, and the owner will often offer you a custom mix of vegetables, meats and cheeses that best satisfies the tastes at your table. The pasta is fresh and authenthic. The menu changes regularly, but the pasta con sarde and a baked annelini pasta are among our favourites. Croccante also offers traditional Italian pizzas.

The food here is great, but one of the best things about Croccante for me is their casual approach to great wine and a selection that favours Italian wine from the south. There is no actual wine list to speak of here. Instead you can ask the owner to suggest something from his cellar. Chances are, he will convince you to try something you've never heard of, and if you're a fan of Nero D'Avola, like I am, you won't suffer from lack of choice. That, in itself, is enough to recommend this restaurant. Nero D'Avola is not that common here - I'm usually happy if an Italian restaurant offers just one.

The prices are fair as well. Froggy and I eat here often, and dinner (appetizer and entree) for two with wine never comes to more than 75 euros. And what's more, every time we're here, we always find ourselves dining among Italian expats or tourists. Now if that doesn't convince you, ...

Jadis

208 rue de la Croix Nivert
75015
Phone: 01 45 57 73 20
Metro: Convention or Porte de Versailles

Jadis, like Le Beurrre Noisette is another gastro-bistrot on the edges of the 15^th. It is quieter and smaller than Le Beurre Noisette, and attracts an older, very French crowd – the hallmark of great French food. The foie gras chantilly with beetroot was so good, I couldn't help but moan aloud. I've also had perfectly cooked monkfish here with sauerkraut and raisins, and a wonderful pollack with lentils. The service and ambiance here is friendly, if a bit reserved. Perhaps in reverence to the food.

15 rue Desnouettes
Metro: Convention or Porte de Versailles
01 48 56 15 36
Hours: 12-2pm / 5pm - 11pm;
Closed Monday lunch and all day Sunday.


What’s all the fuss about?

That is the what I repeated asked myself when Froggy and I dined at Afaria. Paris, like all major cities and some not so major ones, has a devoted clique of foodies. These people, myself included, tirelessly trek to remote and no so remote parts of the city to find that hidden gem of a restaurant with great food and a great story. Since it opened, Afaria has been trumpeted by some of the best critics and bloggers in the city as a must-eat, much welcome, addition to the gastro-bistro scene.

So I admit. I was excited and my expectations were high when we pushed our way through the massive crowd at the door . We had a reservation after all. A harried waiter scurried past. An aloof waitress nodded at us and disappeared. So we watched. We watched as the crowd grew at the door. We watched as the previously harried waiter tried to seat a group of seven at a table for four. And we watched as the waitress announced to a table of lingerers that their time was up, reservations were arriving and it was time for them to go.

Considering the chaos, it actually didn’t take long for us to be seated. Which was good, because it was hot by the bar and I was hungry. Eagerly, I opened the menu. Froggy crinkled his brow.

“That’s all."

“Yup. That’s all." I wasn’t as bothered by the relatively sparse menu as I was by the confusing layout of the card. If a restaurant does what it does well, there need not be a myriad of options. However, it's annoying when the price is the only indication of whether a dish is an appetizer, entree or dessert. In fact, the menu is grouped by theme, each theme having a single appetizer, entree and dessert. As cute as this may seem, it’s not. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so, because the first question our scantily clad waiter asked us (more on that below) was “Do you have any questions about the menu?”

No. But Froggy had a question.

"What is that guy wearing?”

I was not in the mood to be the sartorial police. “A t-shirt. Big deal.”

"No. It's an undershirt. You don’t think that’s strange for a waiter in Paris”, Froggy pressed.

“Mmm.”

Ten minutes later, I understood why.

This restaurant is hot. Uncomfortably so. I watched women around the room, removing layers, become progressively nude. One suffering soul dared to bare down to her camisole. I, on the other hand, with my lack of foresight and layers, suffered in my sweater. But the truth is, I would suffer the depths of hell for great food. And by all accounts, that was what I was in for.

Froggy, with his intrepid spirit, tried the pumpkin soup. I had my eye on it, but couldn’t bring myself to do it given the muggy heat. Instead, I had the Lebanese style bulgur topped with lemony oysters and roquette. Tracks of hummous striped my plate. It was nice and fresh and whetted my appetite, as any good appetizer should do. Froggy’s veloute was rich but had a nicely balanced base.

Not wowed, but not bad. So on to the next course.

I ordered the slow-cooked cod and mussels. Froggy had the stewed lamb. My cod was over-cooked, the broth singular and one note, reminding me – in taste, colour and consistency - of Campbell’s Vegetable Soup. It was an unfortunate comparison, although one further supported by the frozen (or gasp canned?) peas floating around my plate between logs of undercooked and otherwise bland potatoes. However boring Froggy’s lamb was, it was palatable.

Truth be told, my excitement had waned and I was not eager for dessert. But we trudged on. Froggy ordered what turned out to be a soupy bowl of crème anglais with slices of brioche. I had a a kiwi puree with pomegranate brittle and whipped cream. Both were well-executed and pleasurable. Dessert was easily the most interesting part of the night.

Pleasantly full, but more than a little disappointed, we asked for the bill. We were ready to go. The restaurant had died down. Most of the tables had left. A welcome breeze sliced through the humidity in the room. Yet we waited and waited for our bill. Finally our waiter returned (now fully dressed), sans bill, to proudly present us with shot glasses of Armagnac and fresh raspberry puree . This in lieu of petits-fours? Was this what we had been waiting for? Nice touch. Problem is, Froggy and I don't do Armagnac.

In a nutshell: Over-hyped mediocre food, fashionably smart crowd

Price : Appetizers: 7-12 euros, Entrees: 17-22 euros, Desserts:8 euros.

Reservations: Recommended

225 rue Vaugirard
75015, Paris
01 43 06 51 66
Metro: Volontaires
www.lemarcab.fr
Mon- Fri: 12 - 2 pm / 7:30pm - 10pm
Sat - Sun 12 - 2:30pm/7:30pm - 10:30pm


Disclosure: I am a sucker for the underdog. I am the person that really wanted South Korea to win the World Cup in 2002, and Russia the EuroCup in 2008. And I must confess – I secretly devour sentimental stories of paupers winning over princesses and of pauperettes finding their prince. So when we happened upon this nearly empty restaurant on a recent Friday night, I, perhaps unlike most people, was predisposed to love everything I saw.

And honestly, there was little not to love about this restaurant, tucked into the 15e, across from metro Volontaires. The room is an exceptionally well-balanced dialogue between the sophisticated whispers of the muted earth-tone palette and the ostentatious boasts of crystal chandeliers and accents of gold. It is a trendy mix of sleek and modern surfaces (tables, shelves, bar) and luxe aristocratic comfort with deep banquettes, velvety drapes, and a contemporary take on Louis XV chairs.

The service was definitely luxe. Not only was the waiter, funny, friendly and attentive, he politely switched to English after hearing my awful accent in French. And when I tried to refill our own wine glasses, the waiter quickly appeared, lifting the bottle from my hand. “Don't take my job from me,” he joked. “With la crise, I might not be able to find a new one.” Perhaps la crise is going to transform service in Paris, as farflung restaurants like this one do everything they can to woo and keep customers.

So what about the food? Froggy and I both took the menu decouverte – appetizer, main course and dessert for 35 euro. I was excited to try my grapefruit millefeulle with black olive tapenade. I had recently stumbled across a similar recipe in the New York Times with oranges. It seemed like such a simple idea. But it sounded so good. And it was. At its best , the crisp and refreshing sweetness of the pink greatfruit perfectly off-set the bitter saltiness of the tapenade. However, at times, the grapefruit was overwhlemed by the heavy handed dosage of tapenade. And the lack of harmony in the presentation was puzzling. While conceptually sound, the clash of the pink and brown of the millefeuille with the clumps of red pepper and gun-metal anchovies flanking it were jarring in a room where so much effort had gone into making it aesthetically perfect. But Froggy's terrine of foie-gras was perfectly silky, if a little unimaginative and the bread was outstanding .

Froggy followed his terrine with a spicy satayed beef accompanied with potatoes, mushrooms and purple artichoke. The beef was tender and the sauce had a respectable kick, while being balanced enough not to overwhelm the flavour of the beef. I had a salmon medallions with horseradish sauce, confit cucumber and basmati rice. The salmon was done to a perfect medium, but the sauce lacked the spark and kick necessary to harmonize the pairing with cucumber confit.

Dessert was the trio of crème brulee for me, the clemetine salad and sorbet for Froggy. Both were perfect. And while, for fear of insomnia, I usually avoid coffee after dinner, this restaurant offers and impressive range of them. I just had to try the Jamaican coffee, in Paris a rare treat. However, it wasn't quite good enough to justify my sleepness night after. But if you are immune to the late night effects of caffeine, go for it.

The wine list is typical and well priced. There is a short selection of wines available by the glass.

This restaurant is doing everything right. Great ambiance and service. Interesting food that will probably get better. So if you find yourself, like us, without a reservation on Friday, try this place. But hurry. It is a relatively new restaurant (opened November 2008) so I am willing to bet it won't be long before the word gets out. And reservations will be required.

In a nutshell: Great ambiance and service, conceptually sound menu, interesting finds

Price: Appetizers 8 - 10 euros, Entrees 12 - 22 euros, Desserts 10 euros, 3 course menu- 35 euros

Reservations: Why not?

20 r. Rozenwald
75015, Paris
Tel: 01 42 50 02 50
Metro: Convention
Mon - Fri: 12:30 -2:30pm / 7:30pm - 11:00p
Sat: 7:30pm - 11:00pm
Sun: Closed

When I first heard the name of this restaurant, I couldn't help but think of the ancient Greek god of shepherds, flocks and lechery, Pan. However, Froggy was quick to point out the plurality of connotations 'pan' has in French – 'piece', 'part', 'side' . . and strangely 'bang'. Apparently, nothing to do with the Greek god of excess. Too bad.

So the Le Grand Pan means . . . The Large Side?. However, accurate my translation is, this is definitely an apt description of what you'll find here. The menu primarily consists of cotes (literally 'sides' as in the side or rib meat of an animal) of beef, pork and veal, served for two with mesclun salad and hand-cut fries.

And our cote de boeuf was definitely large. So unless you are just finishing a fast or are otherwise ravenously hungry, I suggest you learn from our mistake – skip the appetizers.The assiette de charcuterie was a bit boring, limited solely to variously palatable sausages, served with bread and a jar of pickles. However, the fried eggs generously topped with shaved black truffle was a treat. The spongy truffles, slightly crisped, lended earthy substance to the rich and runny yolk. It was a marriage further perfected by a negligee of luscious butter just barely detectable as the eggs slipped over my tongue and down my throat. On second thought, share an appetizer – this one.

The mesclun salad came tossed with an appropriately zingy vinegarette and the frites were good and garlicky, if a little too soft. But the main attraction here is the meat. We asked for ours 'a point', which to my mind is the equivalent to the North American temperature 'medium-rare'. Ours came out closer to 'medium-well'. Thankfully, this was great quality beef and well-marbled enough to stand up to being cooked a little longer than I prefer.

The wine list is reasonable and well matched to the carnivorous menu.

Organic wines are also available by the carafe.

This is not a place for a quiet romantic dinner – it was bright and full by 8pm. But the service is friendly and informative. And as we walked home, my pants feeling a bit too snug, I thought perhaps Le Grand Pan has something to do with excessive indulgence after all.

In a Nutshell: Good restaurant, simple, high quality meat meals, good value.

Price: Apppetizers: 8 – 22 euros, Entrees: 40 -50 euros for two people.

Reservations: Recommended