If I could go back to before The Great Let’s Not Talk About It, the restaurant I would have most wanted to visit would probably have been Astier. A Paris institution since the 50s, this 11th arrondissement establishment has long been known, not for its moderately contemporary approaches to classic bistro fare, but rather for the consequential cheese course that overshadowed them.
The latter was once defined, I’m told, by the blissfully unceremonious arrival of a basket of cheeses, plopped on the table for a bottomless fromage feeding frenzy hemmed in both by the fact that the French are slightly better at restaurant restraint than Americans are and the fact that you were not allowed to order it as a main. Post-lockdown, the basket has been replaced by a more moderate cheese course… but this restaurant still may well be my new favorite bistro in Paris.
On a recent visit, seasonal white asparagus were (unsurprisingly) on the menu, bedecked with a tangle of greens and shards of mimolette cheese, served with a grainy mustard ravigote and a sprinkle of chopped, hard-boiled egg. In a city so replete with asparagus, it was a welcome, novel approach that nevertheless didn’t deviate too far from the egg-citrus combo upon which so many rely to bring out the gorgeous creamy earthiness asparagus are known for.
A house-made pâté en croûte was an excellent iteration of the classic, with generous chunks of foie gras and tender, still-moist meat. A special shout out to the aspic layer, which was beefy and rich and somehow managed to be far less overtly gelatinous than most.
Mains managed to offer modern plays on classics boasting the ideal interplay of innovation and precision. A simple fillet of pollack was served with a jumble of spring vegetables and hunks of bacon, which added a smokiness to the seafood-infused cream sauce that served to differentiate it quite a bit from the similar sauces frequently preferred in this genre of bistro fare.
The simple steak au poivre boasted a thinner sauce than I usually prefer (albeit perfectly seasoned), and the beef itself was perfectly cooked.
In lieu of fries, the beef was served with a beautiful copper pot of the most moreish pommes dauphines I’ve ever tried, and I popped these little fried balls of mashed potato into my mouth joyously and with abandon.
But the winner of the night was undoubtedly the play on lapin à la moutarde, stuffed with grainy mustard and served with shiitake mushrooms, cream sauce, and even more seasonal asparagus.
Since we hadn’t been forewarned (nor had we noticed) that the chocolate soufflé needed to be ordered at the beginning of the meal, we all opted for the cheese course: a choice-free option featuring five or seven cheeses of our server’s choosing. As a result, we all got vaguely different plates – all of which were delicious.
In short: Astier, I’ll be back… again, and again, and again.
Astier – 44 Rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011