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For directions, reservations click on this link Au Bourguignon du Marais |
Rating Standards: 5-Stars = Extraordinary; 4-Stars = Excellent; 3-Stars = Average; 2-Stars = Fair; 1-Star = Poor € = Inexpensive: 30€ and under; €€ = Moderate: 31€-49€; €€€ = Expensive: €50 -75; €€€€ = Very Expensive: more than €76 (prices based on minimum 2-courses)
1-Bell = Pleasantly quiet (less than 65 decibels); 2-Bells = Can talk easily (65-70); 3-Bells = Talking normally gets difficult (70-80); 4-Bells = Can talk only in raised voices (75-90); BOMB = Too noisy for normal conversation (90+)
4.5 - stars ...................€€................................. 3-🔔
Opened in January 2006, this restaurant has passed hands over the years, but its culinary soul hasn’t budged. The food remains steadfastly classic—comforting, hearty, and unapologetically French.
For ages, I strolled past without a second glance. Too big, too many tourists, I thought—surely it was the kind of place where menus came laminated. Then a friend insisted I try it. His timing? Mid-summer. Boeuf Bourguignon, it’s not exactly what I crave when the air feels like a sauna. There are limits to devotion, and mine stop at boiling stew in July.
So I waited. When the first crisp autumn air arrived, I finally gathered a group of friends. That’s when I learned one of them had been coming here for years—and, in fact, it had been her late husband’s favorite spot. Suddenly, the evening wasn’t just a meal, but a mix of nostalgia, comfort food, and the dawning realization that maybe I shouldn’t judge restaurants solely by the density of selfie sticks outside.
As I mentioned, this is no hole-in-the-wall—it’s a sizeable operation, with plenty of tables spilling onto the terrace and even more tucked inside. Think classic French brasserie style: tables close enough for eavesdropping, but not so tight you risk knocking elbows with your neighbor every time you reach for the bread basket.
Now, full disclosure: I’ll only review what we actually ate. (I’ve always found it suspicious when critics manage to review the entire menu in one sitting—unless they brought a rugby team along.)
There were four of us at the table. Three of us did the obvious thing and ordered the Boeuf Bourguignon—after all, that’s the house specialty and, frankly, the reason anyone comes here. JJ, however, is not a big meat eater, he went for the octopus instead.
CARPACCIO DE TOMATES ANCIENNES ET BURRATINA, PESTO BASILIC.
The dish arrived looking like it had stepped straight out of a glossy cookbook—tomatoes stacked like jewels, crowned with a big cloud of burrata. The tomatoes themselves were spectacular: ripe, bursting with flavor, the kind that makes you wonder why we even bother with supermarket varieties. The burrata was all silk and cream, the kind you want to spread on everything in sight. A dollop of sweet balsamic tied it together, adding just the right wink of acidity.
Honestly, there’s nothing to critique here. It’s the sort of dish that proves the oldest kitchen cliché true: when the ingredients are this good, all the chef really needs to do is not mess them up. Luckily, they didn’t.
Let me tell you something about Boeuf Bourguignon. My relationship with it is... complicated. It's supposed to be this magical, slow-cooked masterpiece, but let's be real—most of the time, it's just beef stew with an identity crisis. And, the star of the show "Boeuf Bourguignon". It was cooked, I assume, in a cocotte. A cocotte is a small lidded French casserole dish, (a cast iron or ceramic, pot for slow-cooked or oven-baked dishes), that it was served in.
I often find that many places take short-cuts with their boeuf bourguignon, hence, the flavors can be off putting since the wine imparts an acrid flavor, by using a young wine with lots of tannin, not cooking out the alcohol in the wine long enough. Bœuf bourguignon turns acidic if the wine is too harsh as well, and if the sauce isn’t cooked down enough, or there’s too much tomato/acid without enough fat or sweetness to balance.
So when this little cast-iron pot arrived looking all innocent and cozy, I was ready for disappointment. I always taste the soup/sauce first. My spoon went in, and I almost fell out of my chair. This wasn't just good; it was really, really good. The sauce was a perfect, velvety dream—not a hint of bitterness. The meat was so tender it felt like it was apologetically falling apart on my tongue. The potatoes were perfect, the carrots sweet, and the bacon? Pure little nuggets of heaven.
Honestly, I'm not even kidding. This is, without a doubt, the best Boeuf Bourguignon I have ever had in Paris. It’s not a winner. It’s a miracle.
We ordered their Brouilly, which is my favorite red wine and is typically served chilled, probably why I like it. I can't tell you the vintage since it was their "house wine", but I can describe what Brouilly is.
Brouilly is a French red wine from the Beaujolais region, made from the Gamay grape, known for being the fruitiest and fullest-bodied of the Beaujolais crus, with flavors of red berries, plums, and a touch of minerality. In addition to these qualities, it’s also one of the few red wines often served slightly chilled (around 12–14°C / 54–57°F), because the light body, bright acidity, and juicy fruit flavors become fresher and more vibrant when cool, making it especially refreshing to drink.
Would I go back? Absolutely. In fact, I'm already planning my next trip. I'll just skip one meal that day.
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