You’ll have to forgive me the pun; I couldn’t help myself. Navire means ship, you see, and so this Belleville restaurant’s name kind of forced my hand. But the small plates at Petit Navire are truly no joking matter. In fact, they may be my new favorites in Paris.
I love small plates for a lot of reasons. I love that they allow me to sample a variety of tastes without becoming overfull. I love the fact that I can order more if I’m still hungry. I love that small plates tend to be plant-forward.
What I don’t love?
It’s often pricey, and I leave hungry.
I remember discussing this issue with a fellow food professional, sharing stories of leaving some of the top small plates spots in the city after not enough food and far too much wine, only to drunk-purchase a panini or a burger to devour on the way home. Not my favorite way to end an evening, let me tell ya. But at Petit Navire, this is a non-issue.
In these post-pandemic times, Petit Navire has installed a lovely wooden terrace outside, where we sampled some dry sparkling and perused the short-and-sweet menu of plant- and seafood-forward dishes with a Mediterranean accent. (The inside, by the way, is sea-themed as well. There’s even a soundtrack of crashing waves in the bathroom, which has a little stained glass porthole and could be super kitschy but somehow isn’t at all.)
We dug into some truly gorgeous “angry” hummus with black cumin and dill and a fresh harissa-y pepper topping, all accompanied by baskets of caraway-scented pita, fresh out of the oven.
I’ve been loath, in the past, to order eggplant, as I find it’s a fickle sort of thing. Undercooked, it’s bitter and spongey; over-fried, it’s oily and greasy. This baked eggplant was deliciosly charred and topped with herb-infused tahini and pomegranate seeds. It was wanting of a bit of salt but otherwise perfect.
The star of the day, at least as far as I’m concerned, were these sardine accras with turmeric yogurt. The yogurt was as thick as labneh and perfectly balanced the slightly spiced accras, which were rich and fatty and crispy on the outside…
… and tender and pillowy within. Yes, please.
In lieu of dessert, we dug into a generous (read: ginormous) wedge of Brillat-Savarin with a fresh cherry compote.
As has become common, in Paris, Petit Navire changes its menu regularly, in accordance with the seasons. I look forward to returning and seeing what other flavors come adorn this short, sweet, sublime menu.
Petit Navire – 85, rue Julien Lacroix, 75020