I’ve been to Chez Georges on rue du Mail three times now, and each time I think they can’t impress me any more, I’m proven wrong. I’ve been wowed by the salade lyonnaise and the ris de veau; I’ve been charmed by the old-school service and dining room. And now, I’ve even been wooed by the front-of-house team, who have dubbed me Emily Cheese. (This is even the way they wrote my booking in the old-school reservations book. I so wish I’d nabbed a photo.)
This visit was particularly special, as I was bringing my mother to this storied establishment to see what all the fuss was about. We split a truly indecent amount of food, and we had a lovely time, as always.
We started with a complimentary plate of radishes and saucisson, served with a side of butter and perfectly chewy baguette de tradition. (Bad baguette is a perhaps surprisingly frequent Parisian restaurant trope, and one up with which I will not put.)
I’ve never not ordered the salade lyonnaise at Chez Georges. It’s a real behemoth, with lightly dressed frisée and thumb-sized pieces of bacon served with a smattering of croutons and a runny poached egg.
And since Mama Jean only likes eggs if they’ve been cooked within an inch of their lives, I got the whole thing to myself. (She got a bigger bacon share, which we decided was fair.)
The surprise of this visit was the celeri remoulade, which gave the one at le Bistrot de Paris a run for its money. The sauce was spiked generously with mustard and remained quite loose and creamy. Even once the mains came, we asked our server to leave this bowl behind so that we could continue to pick at it… and even considered asking for the rest to be packed up to go.
The main event for Mama was the sole meunière – her go-to in a bistro. (She fancy.) It’s not filleted tableside at Chez Georges, which is honestly a bit of a bummer, but it more than makes up for it with rich, buttery flavor and perfect cuisson. It came with a side of mashed potatoes, which were delicious, though they were quickly abandoned as we were already getting very, very full.
I’m usually not all that into chicken, but I changed my tune at Chez Georges this summer when I visited with the team from Milk Street and found that there was no way, after a day of filming in 90 degree heat, I could eat anything even remotely resembling offal. I ordered the chicken served with stewed tomatoes and found it positively perfect in its simplicity, so when I saw chicken forestière on the autumn menu, I couldn’t help but try it out. It was far richer than the summer version, with a wine-scented cream sauce, but it was just as delicious. (And was served with a pile of crispy fries to boot.)
We had absolutely no space for dessert, but when we saw this perfect specimen of a tarte Tatin on the neighboring table, we had to order one ourselves. It was surprisingly light, with most of the flavor coming from slow-cooked seasonal apples, whose pectin held the tart together. Most of the butteriness and sugar came from that thin, almost shortbread-like pastry base.
Of course, we gilded the lily with copious spoonfuls of rich raw cream.
Chez Georges’ consistency is one of the many things I love about it, alongside the conviviality, the history, and the welcome, which boasts that oh-so-Parisian brand of snark and haughtiness. It’s for all of these reasons and so many more that it remains my favorite place to eat classic French food in Paris.
Oh, and of course this menu, which is sheer perfection.
Chez Georges – 1, rue du Mail, 75002