I have known many permutations of the restaurant now known as Le Bistrot des Fables. First, it was Café Constant, which remains my favorite of the bunch, though whether that’s because it was actually that much better than the rest or because it was a local favorite from my early years in Paris, when I barely ventured out of the 7th, much less to the Right Bank, will remain an unsolveable mystery.
Despite the “café” in its name, Café Constant was a true-blue bistro, open all day long and serving copious, hearty iterations of classic comfort food dishes like pork shin terrine over lentils or braised beef cheek stew. It was one of my favorite places to bring visitors to Paris, and when it closed, in 2021, I was heartbroken.
I wasn’t disappointed to find Café Lignac waiting in the wings, though the pastry-chef-turned-celebrity-chef definitely changed the vibe. The once-bare tables were suddenly bedecked with white tablecloths, and while a handful of more rustic offerings remained, including an excellent boudin noir, for the most part, plates were far more fine-dining-inspired. While this version of the café maintained the all-day service that had made Café Constant such a no-brainer recommendation at first, it soon opted to serve only sweets and pastries during the afternoon, cementing itself as a true restaurant with a lunch-dinner divide.
Finding places that serve between the end of lunchtime at 2pm and the beginning of dinner at 7pm is tough, in France. The French are nothing if not wedded to their mealtimes, something that has contributed to a fairly strict meal structure that’s somewhat evolving at the hands of a modern generation fascinated by street food and international offerings. But while I totally respect the adherence to a three-meal-a-day structure – and have, over the years, completely eschewed snacking in favor of bellying up to the dinner table capital-h-hungry – as a tourism professional, it’s nice to have a few spots in my back pocket to recommend to visitors who’ve gotten lost in the Louvre’s labyrinthine corridors or stuck behind a selfie stick at the Eiffel Tower, only to find that every kitchen within walking distance has already closed for the coupure. Bouillons and brasseries are a good bet, but, while delicious, Bouillon Pigalle’s lack of reservation policy and permanent long lines makes it a hard rec when you’re already starving, and while pretty Au Pied de Cochon is not too far from the Louvre – and has a handful of tasty offerings – it’s far from the best the city has to offer.
Which is why I’m so pleased to report that Le Bistrot des Fables has done a bit of time-traveling to bring back some of the things I loved best about Café Constant.
Seven days a week, the newly denuded tables are beset with a full menu of savory options – and this nonstop from noon to 11pm. Options include some true-blue bistro classics like marinated herring with potatoes in oil (12), frogs’ legs (14), steak au poivre (31), or croque monsieur (16), as well as a few lighter choices like salmon tartare with lime (16) or roasted scallops with spinach salad (29). And at least one option – Caesar salad (9 – with or without chicken) seems tailor-made to appeal to a non-French crowd.
My dining companion and I shared a cassolette of snail fricassée (9) from the small menu of suggestions to share “pour l’apéritif.” These included simple charcuterie (albeit from industry powerhouse Eric Ospital) as well as house-made sardine rillettes and pâté. The snails were served out of their shells in a savory piperade enriched with ventrèche. The combo of the sweetness of the roast peppers and the umami of the pork made this the hands-down winner in my book – and perhaps my favorite dish of the day…
…especially accompanied by crusty bread from Jean-Luc Poujaran.
Leek-vinaigrette (9) was the appetizer special du jour, served with a generous topping of chopped hard-boiled egg, chive, croutons, and Espelette pepper, an omnipresent holdover from Southwestern Chef Constant’s days that dusts the top of nearly every dish on the menu even now.
While far from the best or most exciting version of the dish I’ve ever had, it was pleasant and certainly passable. (I was less convinced by the dessert offering of the day – strawberry tart – seeing as my visit took place in the first week of March.)
French onion soup (9) proved unfortunately bland, forcing me to continue my search for the holy grail of a place whose gratinée des Halles is as good as the one at Brasserie des Prés, my reigning champ in the category, despite the rest of the menu being so uneven I can’t bear to recommend it. The broth at Bistrot des Fables lacked the richness I want in a French onion soup, and while the cheese certainly pulled adequately, it didn’t have the assertive flavor I seek.
Mains proved far more commendable… and consequential. This fruit bowl-sized beef daube (25) would have easily fed two diners, with powerful flavor that almost (but not quite) veered too-salty. The perfectly steamed carrots were a welcome addition (though I’ll admit the pentacle-adjacent plating style gave me pause). Fall-apart tender and rich with umami, this beef ultimately was the very definition of moreish.
Equally tasty was a veal blanquette (23) served, as tradition dictates, with mushrooms, pearl onions, and rice. More subdued than the beef, this slow-cooked specialty still packed a flavor punch – and was just as plentiful.
The rosy hunks of veal may have been a bit pink for some, but given the way they pulled apart at the mere touch of a fork, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were perfectly cooked. And garnishing with the pan-roasted mushrooms rather than simmering them in the stew lent a welcome textural component and depth to the dish.
It’s hard to recommend a riz au lait other than the exemplary one at L’Ami Jean – and this holds doubly true when you’re dining at le Bistrot des Fables, barely a five-minute walk away. Proximity aside, there’s nothing particularly wrong with this massive bowl of rice pudding, save that it falls a bit flat. (The same cannot be said for the salted butter caramel sauce and chunks of nougatine, which I swiftly scraped off the top. The mint leaf I discarded; I cannot abide a logicless garnish.)
Far tastier was this Bourdaloue tart (9), with massive slices of pear embedded in a rich almond frangipane, all encased in a delicious, buttery crust. Typically, the tart is served with Chantilly cream, but my dining companion had asked for it to be served unadorned, and frankly, it needed nothing to shine.
Le Bistrot des Fables is not my favorite restaurant in Paris, but it does scratch an important itch. With its reasonable prices and copious – and possibly even excessive – portions of easy-to-love French classics without too many bells and whistles, it would be commendable no matter its location. But seeing as it’s just a few steps from the Eiffel Tower, it’s even easier to recommend this bistro.
Le Bistrot des Fables – 139, rue Saint-Dominique, 75007