Chez Toinette, Paris - economy seating, first class food

Finding this place was like playing the most satisfying game of Hide and Seek ever.

Carefully tucked away on a slanted side road we found a friendly little restaurant named Chez Toinette, where everything looks and tastes homemade. We only found it thanks to some GPS acrobatics which took us through the well lit backstreets of Montmartre in Paris.

It looked super old, though well maintained and classically put together. Everything about the place made us want to try it out; it was just the sort of place that we like to investigate.

Inside was cosy, warm and energetic. Not to the point of feeling panicked, but just because the hosts of the restaurant were constantly running around the tiny space, seeing to their guests. Tables were so close to each other than to get in and out of your seat meant uprooting at least two neighbouring tables full of customers. It ended up being a good thing, since it opened a dialogue with our fellow diners, who were all in the same cramped boat, and more than happy to help out with getting us seated.

warm, homely and cramped. all good things.

We were greeted in French, but served in English once they figured out we barely knew how to say bonjour. The women taking orders seemed less like waiters and more like stakeholders in the business who were interested in meeting their customers and helping them to have the best possible experience. They were friendly, smiling and helpful with our choice of wine to match the meal.

Where were the stuffy French waiters with the napkin draped over one arm and noses pointed at the ceiling? Everyone present was happy to be there, staff and customers included. It was time to find out why.

Our entrees were baked brie on brown bread, snails cooked in garlic, butter and bread crumbs, and a large cold slab of foie gras served with bread and salad leaves. All of those dishes were on our tiny table within ten minutes, which gave us some time to get comfortable and try our wine.
The brie was soft and very hot, and introduced us to the rustic, random plate layout that Chez Toinette use on a lot of their dishes. Some dried parsley and a sprinkling of paprika helped to add colour to what would have otherwise been a white plate with white bread and white cheese. The dried herb and spice ring around the plate also added some flavour variation when we felt like it.

The snail platter before...

and after.

So nobody goes to france without trying snails, right? right. We are no exception. We have had snails before, but not in France, so we had to see how they measured up. Our slimy set of shell stricken suckers were served up in a special ceramic platter with an indent intended for each snail. They were first pan fried in a mixture of butter and garlic, then inserted into the platter, with the whole dish being crusted with bread crumbs. The end result was something that tasted like rubbery pieces of garlic and butter, which is not a bad thing, but I didn't taste anything unique. The snails could have just as easily been bits of overdone calamari, or slow cooked intestines for all I knew. I certainly enjoyed it, but it wasn't a memorable dish. 

Foie Gras... for 1?

... Or maybe it was because we forgot about everything once the foie gras hit the table. Served cold. A massive, off-pink lump of duck liver blended with a little pepper and grand marnier (french orange liqueur), served on the same plate as some sweet caramalised onions, bread and some greenery for colour. Now, I hadn't had much foie gras in the past, but I knew that I liked it in small amounts. It is kind of like butter for me - It is lovely in moderation, but you could never eat it on its own. Well, this is pretty much was this dish amounted to - eating straight butter. It was rich to the point of being bad for our eyesight. Who serves this stuff in such an enormous quantity anyway? It seems unsafe in a delicious way. The rich, mouth-filling texture of the liver, followed by the warm length of the liqueur meant that we were more than happy to wait another ten minutes for our main courses to arrive..

Rare Duck, done well.

For mains, a rare duck breast served with a honey sauce, and venison served with a fois gras sauce.
The duck breast was perfect. It was rare, warm, wet and soft. That is a grand slam as far as slabs of meat go. The dark, sweet sauce was nice, but seemed more like a barrier to be broken through in order to reach the prized meat underneath. I cannot emphasize enough the fact that the duck breast itself, without the sauce, ticked every box as far as we were concerned. Adding a rich sauce to a dish like that was just showing off. It was already perfect.
The venison was chewy and overcooked by comparison. The sauce was actually the best part of it, as if we hadn't had enough foie gras by that point anyway. The meat was a little gamey, but not rare enough to really capitalize on the flavour of the animal. It came off more like an english roast, and less like rich french cuisine.

We skipped the cheese course and the dessert. We had cheese as an entree anyway. There was just no space left by that point.

RECOMMENDED

Chez Toinette is just example of the style of restaurant that everyone should visit when they end up in France, and there are many others similar to it. It has all the classic French dishes you have heard of all your life, and it actually does most of them very well. I can't yet say if their snails are any better or worse that what you should expect, but everything else is well worth trying.
The thing that sets Chez Toinette apart from other cliched French places is the atmosphere, and the 'hidden-away' vibe that it has. Try it out, if you can find it.

The bill (for 2):
1 x Foie Gras - 14 euros
6 x Snails - 9.50 euros
1 x Baked brie on bread - 8.50 euros
1 x Duck Breast with honeyed sauce - 17 euros
1 x Doe Fillet in foie gras sauce - 19 euros
TOTAL: 68 euros (Approx. US$89)

Restaurant address: 20 Rue Germain Pilon, 75018 Paris, France

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