You could throw a rock in Paris and hit a “storied institution,” but there’s perhaps nowhere in the city where they’re so concentrated as in the Latin Quarter. Here, in the former stomping grounds of philosophers like Voltaire and Benjamin Franklin, literary heroes like Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein, nearly everywhere will claim to be the one-time favorite of Simone de Beauvoir or Sylvia Beach. But unfortunately, these places rich in history are often poor in deliciousness. I’m always on the search for a spot to prove that wrong.
Brasserie Lipp is located just across the street from two of the neighborhood’s most famous storied institutions – Café les Deux Magots and Le Flore. I’ve become a bit of a regular at the latter, where you can sit in the relatively undisturbed bustle of the historic dining room and soak up the echoes of genius left here by fellow past scribblers. While sitting here is far from cheap (I tend to rely on a five-euro coffee, which in a café is tantamount to highway robbery), the vibes make it worth it.
Comparatively, Lipp has flown a bit under the radar. This may be because it’s a brasserie rather than a café, with the latter synonymous with meetings of the minds, and the former synonymous with cheap beer and eats. But it’s haunted by its own high-ranking ghosts, appearing as Hemingway’s go-to for marinated herring with steamed potatoes and a pint in A Moveable Feast. And since it’s forever heaving with diners, I wanted to see if it was worth the hype.
From the moment you pass through the doors into the boisterous, Belle Epoque dining room, there’s something a bit magical about Lipp. The servers are pros of that particularly Parisian persuasion, moving efficiently and occasionally brusquely through the room but never failing to deliver advice, drinks, and dishes with a bit of a flourish.
I loved the signs posted throughout the dining room evoking the fact that while time has not stood still here, it’s definitely slowed down. It adds a touch of refinement to the vivacious and even brusque experience of brasserie dining, making it perfect for a special occasion meal.
The menu here skews super classic, with quite a few Alsatian touches, like choucroute and foie gras, joining familiar French dishes like steak-frites, duck confit, and roast chicken. House beer on tap and a few lovely Alsatian wines by the glass are prominent on the drinks menu, which is more than fleshed out with other regional choices.
With a menu this long, I loved that the house specialties were so prominent, either written in red font or enclosed in boxes, as it helped guide some – but not all – of our choices.
We started with two totally traditional appetizers. Céleri remoulade (9.50) was soupy and well-marinated – like I like it – with a prominent mustardy note and a lovely garnish of mâche. It doesn’t quite dethrone Chez Georges as my favorite, but it certainly comes close.
The leek-vinaigrette (12.50) was even tastier, with sweet, yielding leeks topped with a gribiche-style boiled egg topping, crunchy croutons, and loads of fresh herbs. Here too, they didn’t skimp on the mustard, which was of the old-fashioned grainy variety.
The semainier means that each day of the week, a special appetizer and main join the other offerings, and we were pretty excited about the Friday skate wing with browned butter and capers. Imagine our disappointment when the dish had already sold out by 8pm.
We opted instead for the pan-seared scallops (36.50) with a rich beurre blanc, Parmesan risotto, seasonal mushrooms, and a shower of herbs. And we were not disappointed. These scallops couldn’t have been more perfectly cooked, with their barely browned exterior allowing the interior to remain pearlescent – nacré, as the French would say – for a lovely interplay between the sweet meat and the rich sauce and accompaniment. Plus, the plating was gorgeous.
Only one dish on the menu was written in red and in a box of house specials and (in case there was any doubt) appended with the word spécialité in parentheses: the breaded and fried pigs’ trotter (25.50). I feared it would be too rich and almost ordered, instead, the 100-day roast chicken, but when I asked my affable server for his recommendation, he couldn’t say enough kind words about this dish, which, he informed me, is also stuffed with foie gras.
Oh, so it’s light, I joked.
Madame, vous êtes au Lipp.
Well, when you put it that way.
This dish was the perfect example of the French belief that tout est bon dans le cochon (everything in the pig is good). The trotter had been cooked low and slow until its gelatinous texture and rich, savory flavor were set to their best advantage. The crispy breaded-and-fried exterior offered a lovely juxtaposition in texture, and the buttery potatoes were marvelous. It was far from refined haute cuisine – especially when sitting so humbly across from the pretty scallop dish – but I would order it again in a heartbeat.
Dessert-wise, house-made offerings include ile flottante, pavlova, and this rich, fluffy chocolate mousse (9).
Chocolate mousse is a brasserie staple for a reason, and the one at Brasserie Lipp didn’t disappoint.
A few desserts also come from Angelina, like the famous Mont-Blanc or the dessert of the day (12), which on the day of our visit was Paris-Brest. Seeing as this is my all-time favorite pâtisserie, I couldn’t help but order one.
I adore chou pastry, but I often find it suffers in restaurants, where an over-reliance on the freezer can mean it’s texturally disappointing. Outsourcing to Angelina means that this pastry was in fine form, and the fluffy hazelnut cream inside was only improved with a generous addition of praline.
That we were sandwiched between a group of Italians and a group of Americans at Lipp doesn’t surprise me: This is an old-school spot that’s far off the radar of most on-trend Parisian diners. But we also encountered some locals, one of whom ordered the chicken (which I will definitely need to return for), and the other of whom dug into one of the most generous portions of Saint-Nectaire I’ve ever seen in a restaurant.
I even glimpsed a pair of regulars who come here so often, they have a formula: They order double appetizers – soup and charcuterie (salad as a meal is not allowed!), so that they have room for dessert. If I had to hazard a guess, they’re here as much for the very good food as for the ambiance and the service, both of which are resolutely, stereotypically, and timelessly Parisian.
Brasserie Lipp – 151, boulevard Saint-Germain, 75006