I wouldn’t be surprised he wasn’t the first waiter, and certainly not the last, to discuss that topic.
The rue Guisarde has long been an alley that welcomed visitors. We first found ourselves there following Patricia Wells’ “Food Lovers Guide to Paris” in the late '80s. Her description of the funky Machon d’Henri caught our attention. It is and continues to be a hole in the wall, closet sized kitchen that still, AFAIK, eshews Metro, maintains a stable of quintessential waiters and chalkboard menus, for better or worse, now translated to English… When we started going there, the clientele was pretty much neighborhood eccentrics with the normal mix of visitors. At any sitting, it wasn’t unusual for a kitchen minion to fly in the door, grab several bottle of wine or a finished cassoulet or pan of cloufoutis which, we found, he would take to the Bistrot d’Henri round the corner on rue Princesse, which shared the larder and some chefs. We tried the BdH but found it more staid, the food similar but more expensive, and stayed loyal to our simpler find.
It is interesting but also baffling how two very similar entities can have such very different
ambiances. I’m inclined to call it soul.
Now that you mention it, the quite fine andouillette has been taken off the board at Machon d’Henri. It is this kind of menu/kitchen depreciation that should be a warning sign.
I was a hormonal teenager obsessed with sports and breasts in the early '90s and was not aware of Bistrot d’Henri’s history. Thanks… I love these details.
1 Like
I am forever mourning that foie de veau.
