Nous avions découvert ce restaurant en janvier dernier et avions promis de revenir y dîner c’est chose faite et c’est sans regret
Délicieux et un service très agréable qui plus est.
The Maître d’ of Au Vieux Paris
~ By James Fleming, MD
Notre Dame Cathedral is a great monument to humanity, and her architectural heritage spills out into the winding street known as Rue Chanoinesse. On this unassuming street, petite in breadth and length, you will find an iron grille fanning out over the door of a restaurant. This grille resembles a Cathedral tracery softened to a blue-green, and it leads the eye to the restaurant name Au Vieux Paris, painted in gold letters. This name means “in old Paris,” and it would be tempting to believe the owner selected this name for the sake of nostalgia.
However, I came upon a 1917 photograph of the building at Musée Carnavalet, that gentle mansion housing the history of Paris, and it shows the same name Au Vieux Paris already existing in black and white, existing just before the great war, before the greatest war, and during the time when Paris was in her most beautiful period.
Stand in front of this artistic façade in the evening hours, and Fredrico the Maître d’hôtel will greet you there — at that place but in an earlier time. His operatic voice will usher you to the early 16th century. Lose your phone reception there and let the LED lights of modernity yield to candlelight. Dine with the pleasure of two Maîtres d’hôtel: one is the building and the other is Fredrico. Over the years, the building has become Fredrico’s shell, such that they are nearly one — together weaving a dining experience which is only accessible to the most curious.
Some guests are content with enjoying the excellent food, including steak, fish, and poultry options. My fiancée would suggest ending with the crème brûlée. More observant guests will marvel at the exquisite cutlery and plateware, the medieval beams supporting the ceiling, and the statue of an angel which seems to float as she plays a trumpet against a wall of red velvet.
Others take Fredrico up on his offer to descend into the wine cellar and select their own bottle. I never miss an opportunity to walk into this ancient cellar carved from stone. Are these truly stone remainders of from the Cathedral — like Fredrico believes? I cannot imagine another building laying a better claim to them.
The most curious guests will accept Fredrico’s offer to join in the conversation of neighboring tables. I have never met a maître d’hôtel who curated such a lively and rich experience for guests. By the end of the night, you will have attended a wedding party. Drinks will be shared, numbers exchanged, and there will be promises to meet again.
Once home, you will pause at your desk and look back into a daydream. You will marvel that just over the Atlantic, on the far side of Pont d’Arcole, under the shadow of Notre Dame, Fredrico is buttoning his dinner jacket. He is almost ready to add his unique human touch to this iron, wood, and stone ensemble. He is ready, once again, to bring his guests Au Vieux Paris.
Booked a reservation over two months ago. Was seated upstairs upon arrival. No one visited the table after we were seated. We left after about 10 minutes.
Unfortunately Au Vieux Paris was a huge disappointment; it seemed the restaurant was under staffed, the food was quite disappointing.
I had a classic French salad for my starte … a simple attempt to dress it up with a tasty dressing would have been nice.
My daughter had the classic french onion soup. We had a total laughing meltdown over the amount of poor pizza cheese in the soup. She ate a little, and still left a fist size ball of poor plastic pizza mozzarella. Onion soup should not be served with pizza mozzarella topping.
My father had a Plate du jour with pate. It was nice but boring.
The bread with the starter was nice though, but we didn’t get any butter with the bread.
My main course was scallops with linguine.
I was positive about the numbers of scallops on my plate, but the sauce was boring and blonde and the linguine was overcooked and cold.
My daughter had 8 small mussels with fries. The fries seemed boiled and the cooked in oil, Similar to traditional British fish and chips chips.
My mother had was should have been rabbit, but undeniably was chicken.
I’ve cut up enough chicken, and have had ‘fun’ training myself remembering the Latin anatomy terms to recognise the bone structure of a chicken to a rabbits.
We didn’t have dessert but brought an ice cream and walked home.
