Brasserie Bofinger

Paris, France (The Joy of Food) — Founded in 1864, Bofinger is reputedly Paris’ oldest brasserie. Inside, it’s all Belle Epoque elegance and chaotic activity, a sprawling, ornate space filled with vested waiters and beautifully prepared food. The ceiling is like the colorful glass and steel dome at the Galleries Lafayette, the only ‘mall’ thus far where I’m more enamored with the decor than the fashion.

I first learned of Bofinger through a former colleague who raved about “the place with the name sort of like the Steve Martin movie with some of the best fish in Paris.” Back then, phones plugged into walls and there was no such thing as Google Maps, so armed with only an address, I went traipsing through Le Marais’ tiny streets looking for Bofinger’s signature red awning, slightly faded from the sun. I have a horrible sense of direction, and the streets in Paris can go in circles, so it took a while.

Despite the elaborate ambiance, the food is still accessible and unpretentious. Much of it has Alsace-style roots. In keeping with that tradition, an entire section of the menu is devoted to Alsatian sauerkrauts served with boiled potatoes and pork sausage, duck confit, or seafood, including half a lobster on your plate.

Platters of meat and potatoes might sound hearty, even by French standards. This goes back to Alsace’s position near southwestern Germany, a region whose food is ‘something else,’ not quite German and not quite French and somewhat of a cultural mishmash.

The escargot here is among the best I’ve ever had, a huge feat in a country where cooking snails in oodles of butter was born. At Bofinger, the Escargots à la Bourguignonne are served out of their shells, still-bubbling in a cast-iron pan in copious amounts of butter, oil, wine, and herbs. Whatever this suffers in presentation it makes up for in efficiency, since you don’t have to wrangle the slippery little suckers out of their shells and risk flinging them at nearby waiters.

When it comes to fish, Bofinger hits its stride, and nothing at Bofinger impresses as much as a whole fish. Any white fish (sea bass usually) cooked in any number of sauces, usually white wine-based, served over a medley of potatoes or vegetables, is fabulous.

Even the smaller seafood options are glorious. A filet of halibut served over pesto conchiglie (shells) is a minimalist block of flaky, ivory fish that speaks to delicate flavor and how I generally prefer this type of thing to be served: simply. The light hand of pesto complements the halibut and the pasta, and I have mine ungarnished with anything else, even though lemon is offered on the side.

Bofinger is tucked into a charming street in Le Marais, a quaint neighborhood that straddles the 3ème and 4ème arrondissements, and often a favorite of visitors to the city, penciled in right after ‘la tour eiffel’ and ‘le louvre’ and ‘la crêpe’ on the must-experience list. The medieval facades, sprawling gardens, and treelined streets make any time spent here the quintessence of French class and beauty.

These days, armed with Google Maps and a good memory, it’s a quick hop out of the metro (Line 1 – Bastille stop) to visit Bofinger, easily a top-ten spot for a meal when visiting the City of Light.