When it comes to food, Paris certainly has its strengths: pastry, bistro food, exquisitely plated Michelin-worthy fare. But there are a few things it lacks, things that have become my white whale whenever I leave the city: adequately spiced buffalo wings, Thai, Indian, Mexican. My friends in London pencil in a trip to their favorite curry house every time I visit. I ate at the same burrito place three times in the four days I recently spent in San Francisco.
(It’s a sickness.)
It’s not lost on me that most of these cuisines I so miss know what they’re doing when it comes to spice. The French, I’ve found, prefer a mustard spice than the slow burn that comes with chiles, so much so that, when cooking for almost all of the French friends I’ve had since moving to Paris, 12 years ago, I’ve had to modify even the amount of red pepper flakes I use in my favorite recipes.
Thankfully, it seems this is changing.
The culinary revolution that has taken place in Paris over the past decade has welcomed international inspiration from all over the globe, both from natives who have discovered these cuisines on their travels and from expats who are putting down roots in the city. Today, a handful of spots serve up decent Mexican food… but I’m here to talk about one in particular: the barely-four-months-old Botanero in the upper Marais.
Botanero joins the trend of cocktail-bar-cum-small-plates restaurants that have been taking the Parisian dining scene by storm in the past few years. Owner Davy Ngy sought inspiration from Mexico without relying on stereotypes, and Chef Daniel Fierro (formerly of Ellsworth and Martin) more than delivers on the promise.
With a drinks menu comprised of mostly natural, organic, or biodynamic wines, craft beers, and a few exquisitely concocted cocktails from Nicolas Cruz, it is just as welcoming to folks looking for a pre- or post-dinner drink as it is to those looking for a meal as well.
While the cocktail menu is extremely varied – and not at all agave-focused – I started things off with my favorite spirit, mezcal, in the form of a Doudou Galak: a mezcal milk punch with coconut water and mole.
Friends, this cocktail was a revelation.
The mezcal is present but couldn’t be smoother. The chocolate notes from the mole are highlighted by a shaving of cacao over the top. It’s spiced but not spicy and perfectly balanced.
Food-wise, I put myself in Ngy’s capable hands. He recommended three small plates, starting with the “Tijuana-Style Salad” you see above.
Please forgive the photo its transgressions – it does not belie even an iota of how delicious this salad was.
Ngy described it as a play on a caesar, with pecorino, shallot, and avocado. With my first bite, however, the information that went straight to my brain (in the best of all possible ways) was “Cumin!” The salad is so layered that each bite brings something new. It’s far from overwhelming, though the small plate size is exactly the perfect amount of something so filled with flavors.
Next up, I sampled two tacos. The first was my least-favorite of the two, not because the flavors weren’t there, but because I wasn’t entirely sure how to approach its composition.
Sold as a taco, it’s presented more like a tostada, with a tortilla base topped with a celeriac-mashed potato purée, perfectly barely-seared bavette, and a peanut-chipotle sauce. There’s far too much going on to be able to pick it up and eat it like a typical taco, but as the tortilla isn’t fried, it’s tough to cut and eat with a fork and knife. And for as delicious as the purée was, it felt too heavy as compared to the rest. I would have preferred this without the purée, which would have allowed the flavors of the incredible sauce to shine through more easily – and made it easier to eat.
The final dish of the night: a pig’s head taco with carrot-habanero sauce, mustard seeds, quail’s egg, and chervil. Oh, Lord, was this on point. There was a phenomenal balance of fat from the fried croquette and the egg yolk, acid from the mustard, and sweet from the carrot-habanero sauce, which brought out the natural floral nature of the chile. The habanero lent the perfect amount of spice for me, and while I do wonder how native Parisians would feel about it, I’m so happy it’s here that I’m willing to eat more than my fair share to keep it on the menu.
(I still, however, felt like I didn’t really need a tortilla).
I’ll be back to Botanero often, for drinks, for dinner, or just for a pre-dinner apéro. It’s my new go-to for delicious plates with just the right amount of heat… and for that mole cocktail that just plain bowled me over.
Botanero -Â 25 Rue du Pont aux Choux, 75003