Following a visit to the Conciergerie to catch the end of the (truly wonderful) exhibit on the history of Parisian food, a friend and I stopped for lunch at Au Bougnat, and friends, despite all of the warning signs – the “authentic” exposed beams, the proximity to tourist spots like Notre Dame – it proved to be a tasty spot for lunch that clearly has loads of heart.
The restaurant’s name is an allusion to Auvergnat immigrants to Paris, termed charbouniats or bougnats for their work in the coal industry, which brought them to the capital in droves in the 19th century, They later opened restaurants, many of which still exist today, serving Auvergnat delicacies like aligot and truffade.
While non-Parisian entries on the menu of Au Bougnat were limited to the omnipresent burrata, here paired with beetroot, or the equally-omnipresent burger, which features the one nod to the region referenced in the restaurant’s very name, Cantal cheese, we did find some laudable iterations of French comfort food classics the likes of which are frequently done poorly, if at all, in modern Paris.
My friend opted for boeuf-carottes, a long-simmered stew that very much does what it says on the box. With fall-apart-tender chunks of beef redolent with red wine balanced with a generous portion of carrots, it proved quite tasty, if a touch salty, and at 22 euros, was certainly reasonable for the area.
I opted for the lunchtime prix fixe, a true steal at 20.50 euros for entrée-plat or plat-dessert. The chèvre chaud was simple but soignée, as the French would say, with attention to detail evident in each bite. The mild, creamy cheese was generously portioned on brioche rounds that had been buttered on both sides before being baked, lending a crispy texture to both the underside and the top. And that sucrine side salad boasted one of the best vinaigrettes I’ve had in a long time, with a combination of walnut and canola oil and “a few” different vinegars, according to our waitress (though I think I got an air of Banyuls.) Grainy Meaux mustard added a nice pop of spice and personality.
For my main, I dug into a generous portion of red mullet served with two side salads – one of arugula dressed in that still-same perfect vinaigrette, the other of crisp pickled cabbage – as well as a pesto sauce and a bit of rice. One of the mullet fillets was seasoned just right, with a dusting of Espelette pepper; the other was a touch too salty, but both were cooked to perfection. The baguette, sourced from nearby Eric Kayser, was passable if not perfect, but I still used it to mop up every last trace of sauce.
For dessert, my friend got the day’s special, a chocolate moelleux served warm. Instead of the chantilly cream this usually comes with, she asked for a boule of fig sorbet…
…which, in breaking with local tradition, did not come from nearby Berthillon, but rather from Pedone, an artisanal glacier in the Parisian suburbs. (As our server told us when he came to give us the bill, Berthillon has more than enough customers. And there are other people doing amazing things in the region, if you know where to look.)
It was this care that I found perhaps the most alluring element of this spot, which attracted both local and international clientele. The staff clearly cares about their work and what they do, and they managed actual warmth (unheard of!) in addition to that perfectly Parisian brand of efficiency. The restaurant offers service continu, meaning you can get a meal outside of normal mealtimes, but maintains a prix fixe formule between the typical French lunch hours of noon and 2:30, “to appeal to the nurses and government workers,” according to our server. The menu is short, with just six daily specials (two apps, two mains, two desserts) and five offerings in each category on the ever-changing à la carte menu.
I myself went à la carte for dessert, opting for a nostalgic favorite – café gourmand – that I see rarely these days and thus almost never order, despite it being my go-to for years after I first moved to Paris over fifteen years ago. It seemed like a bit of a splurge at 9.50, but when this plate was presented to me bearing a veritable panoply of sweets, including a boule of sinfully good vanilla ice cream and a crème brûlée seasoned with tonka bean, I definitely wasn’t sorry.
If you’re near Notre Dame and are looking for a bistro-style spot with friendly service, a cozy dining room, pretty good food, and a lot of heart… this is the one I’d send you to.
Au Bougnat – 26 Rue Chanoinesse, 75004