Monthly Archives: March 2013

Is this the best burger in Paris? Part two: Koff

Burger joint number two is the wonderful Koff, which hides out in Montmartre. Boy was visiting for two weeks, and we went on quite the burger binge. One Sunday lunchtime, we were starving and wandering around Montmartre, when I realised Koff was around the corner, and I still hadn't tried it out. Winner.

Unfortunately Koff hasn't got a website, so I can't check a menu for our choices. I had a bacon cheeseburger (I think), and boy had a blue cheese covered burger. We ordered both rare, and that's how they came. Anglophone rare, not French rare, but that's pink enough for me. I had the best fries of my life – why doesn't everyone leave the skins on the potatoes? It's so much better that way. Boy had a GIANT hash brown. It was also delightful, but I think the fries were better.

Both burgers were excellent, toppings were great, and buns held together just the way they're supposed to. We didn't go for any sides this time, just a diet coke for me and a Canadian ginger beer for boy. Good choices all round.

Not ordering sides meant we had room for dessert. We shared a banoffee pie. I think I actually ate most of it, but boy was nice enough to pretend we split it evenly. It was delicious. Unfortunately it wasn't very photogenic. Sorry.

Then it was time for tea and coffee and a lovely walk.

The End.

 

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Is this the best burger in Paris? Part one: Breakfast in America

Just look at this beauty!

I am, once again, on a burger kick. While the French might not be great at eating with their hands (I’ve seen burgers eaten with knife and fork), there are still a number of decent burgers to be had. I’m going to eat them all, and then pick my favourite (and probably eat there far too often).

First up, Breakfast in America.

Breakfast in America 2 is in the Marais, very close to Saint Paul métro, which happens to be one of my favourites (is it weird to have a favourite métro stop?). There is always a queue outside, but it doesn’t take too long to get inside and seated.

I had the burger of the day, which as far as I can tell changes daily, but I definitely can’t visit often enough to know for sure. Signs inside explain that all of the beef for the burgers is of French origin. Ace. Boy had the So Cal burger – with mushrooms, avocado, and gruyere (pescetarian, what pescetarian?) which is maybe the best combination of burger toppings ever.

I made a fairly major mistake in ordering coleslaw instead of fries with my burger – I was rewarded with the biggest coleslaw side I have ever seen – no one could ever eat that much. Also, I don’t know if it’s a French thing or not, but so far all the coleslaw I’ve had here has been oddly sweet. I don’t think it’s my favourite. Fries are good, but not excellent, and our shared side of cheese fries went down fairly well.

We washed it all down with Sam Adams, which was excellent.

I don’t know if Breakfast in America will be my favourite burger in all of Paris, but I will definitely be back to try a more breakfast-y pancake option.

Stay tuned for more meaty nonsense. And maybe another sort-of-series, in which I adventure to try and find the best coffee in Paris.

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Filed under Burgers, I love, Paris, Very good food

Playing tourist

I'm going to pretend that this year isn't an exercise in touristing with the “but I live here” excuse in my pocket for extra street cred (do the kids still have street cred?) and say that I was a tourist for a week this month. Visitors make excellent excuses for touristing events, and visiting Mothers are the best if you want to visit every museum possible. Even better is the rule that handicapped visitors get free entry for themselves and a companion, and (best of all) get to queue jump. When the weather report app on your phone says “feels like -9,” queue jumping is better than sliced bread.

We visited Montmartre (not a museum, lots of walking, very cold, but gorgeous), the Louvre (twice, and still didn't see even half of it), the Pompidou centre (with 3 hour waits for the Dali exhibit we walked straight into), and the Musee d'Orsay (better than the Louvre, but you aren't supposed to take pictures). I took her on my favourite metro journey, we discovered a vegetarian restaurant, and we watched the Tour Eiffel sparkle at night.

All of this beautiful touristing made me realise that I have a limited amount of time left in Paris, and I'm not sure I'm going to manage to do everything I wanted. Earlier in the year, I was homesick, and just trying to get through a day at a time, and now I'm terrified I'm wasting my time here. Grass is always greener, and all that.

 

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Hieronymus Euripedes tells it like it is

When I was young (cough 16 cough) my imaginary baby name short list contained, among other questionables, Hieronymus Euripedes. I named all of my instruments (nerd alert), but it was too soon after everyone I'd mentioned it to had told me that it was a mild form of child abuse to throw away my dear baby names on mere instruments. Enter the age of the iDevice, and I have a number of wonderful inanimate objects to give the names of my childhood dream children. Ideal.

Hieronymus Euripedes is a much better teller of stories than I am, even if I play with his narrative too much with Instagram filters.

Here are some of his recent shorts.

Box of bunnies, anyone? I was tempted.
It snowed, and Montmartre wore it well.

And then it was beautifully sunny and Notre Dame was fit.

I bought myself flowers, and was taught a little bit about flower arranging. Picking flowers to go together is really hard. And I'm really bad at it.

And then I ate the best burger of my life. So far. More on that later.

In other news, I've been watching and rewatching Buffy season 2, and, spoiler alert, the death of Jenny Calendar is always a heartbreaker. I can't even talk about Becoming, parts 1 and 2, because they are tearjerkers like nothing else.

 

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Filed under I love, Paris, Rambly ramble, Travels, Very good food