In summer 1936, the French government passed a law that mandated paid holiday, a move that kickstarted the exodus of northerners to the Med every August, and it became a true emblem of the French vacances.
Volumes has quickly become a popular destination, known for its superb coffee and a lunch menu that keeps customers coming back. The atmosphere is vibrant, and the food offerings are diverse, catering to various tastes.
Marisa Christensen, Holland America's associate vice president of food and beverage operations, directs guests to the line's Dive-In burger. 'It's made fresh to order, incredibly satisfying, and so easy to enjoy right after embarkation when you're settling in.'
Endo Kazutoshi was on the train to Paris when he heard about the fire that had destroyed his restaurant, Endo at the Rotunda, located on the eighth floor of the Helios building. The fire had started on a terrace and quickly spread, affecting the dining room and kitchen, built mostly from 200-year-old hinoki wood.
Of the five mother sauces, velouté is extremely under-appreciated and not talked about enough. It's what we as Americans call gravy, which we know has so many various uses. Velouté, which means velvety in French, is made with a light roux (or a mixture of flour and fat, like butter), stock or broth, and some seasoning like salt and pepper, and a bay leaf.
The streets around the Louvre have improved considerably as a dining destination. It's still true that the neighborhood rewards those who know where to look - the blocks immediately adjacent to the museum are thick with tourist traps - but a short walk in almost any direction opens up genuinely good options.
A consistently packed bistro along the Seine in the Marais, Le Petit Célestin delivers reliable French classics in a lively atmosphere that values conviviality over culinary ambition. The menu spans traditional bistro territory - tête de veau, veal kidneys, steak frites - with occasional Italian influences like burrata and linguini with bottarga. The cooking is competent rather than inspired. Razor clams arrive properly garlicky, steak shows good char against rare interior, but some dishes lean too sweet.
Suddenly, a strange, loud, rhythmic, prolonged noise, like the dying moan of an organ, then the dying wail of the breeze sighing in the cloisters, struck the indignant ears of the nuns with astonishment. The nuns all turned to stare at Sister Agnès, who in her embarrassment, tripped and let fly a spoonful of her chou pastry dough into a pot of boiling fat, and the doughnut-like pet de nonne, 'nun's fart' was born.
Chef Masa Ikuta brings serious classical training honed under Bruno Verjus at Table and Stephane Jego at L'Ami Jean to his own tasting menu restaurant in the 11th arrondissement. The cooking is confidently French-Japanese, moving from sardine churros with Cantabrian anchovy cream to veal brain tempura styled after shirako to a perfectly grilled lamb rack with smoky harissa.
The cooking is unpretentious and generous—big flavors, careful balance, no tweezers—at prices that feel increasingly rare in Paris. Standout dishes include a pheasant tourte with Morteau sausage and girolles, roasted beets with smoked eel and horseradish cream, and wild duck with a Porto jus and roasted parsnips.
Past a sign for a family waterpark, a door opens onto an homage to fin-de-siècle Paris. Chandeliers are reflected in gilt-edged mirrors; there is a chorus line of lobsters and yards of fromage. Every so often, a waiter in a dinner suit flambées a crepe Suzette with a shock of flames, like a big top fire-eater. This is fine dining as buffet.
Israeli chef Assaf Granit shifts focus from Mediterranean cooking to Eastern European Jewish cuisine at Boubalé, located in the Grand Mazarin hotel steps from BHV. The menu draws on Ashkenazi traditions - borscht, chicken liver, pastrami, and potato-forward preparations inspired by Granit's Polish grandmother. The vast dining room manages warmth through maximalist touches: doilies, colorful glassware, and grandmother-approved murals. Standout dishes include salmon floating in borscht with pickled turnips, Israeli couscous risotto with spinach, and an exceptional chocolate mousse drizzled with olive oil.
Back in 2024, after a reporting trip for a whiskey magazine, I got tired of drinking. Perhaps it was the sluggishness I felt each morning, or maybe it was the podcast I'd heard while traveling, which shared the news that one or two glasses of red wine was not, as we had long been told, healthy. Whatever the reason, I tossed in the daily drinking towel after that trip, figuring that going forward, I might only have a drink or two every now and again.
