A Noste Paris

written by robin

As I sit here writing this, I am preparing for yet another research trip to Italy. I’m blessed that I get to do work I love and excited be visiting some new areas, discovering new culinary gems, wineries and meeting with new partners to create more tours and experiences for clients.

I leave in ten days, so my plans were pretty much finalized. I posted my itinerary over on Instagram stories. As luck would have it, my best French foodie friend, who also happens to be one of my partners for cooking classes and food tours in Paris, happened to see it and sent me a private message, offering to join me somewhere along my journey. To eat, of course.

We tossed around a few ideas and dates and 24 hours later, we had a plan. She would meet me in Venice. I canceled my one bedroom apartment and rebooked something larger. I decided to stay on a extra day, so I rescheduled my train (which is so ridiculously easy – thanks Italo!) and our plans were set.

I rescheduled a few work appointments and asked a few other tours providers I had already lined up, if she could join me. When two devout foodies put their collective minds, and travel skills together – good things can happen. Hunger and a devouring passion for food always prevails. To date, this has been the best outcome of a social media post – ever.

Now comes the fun part -planning all of the foodie spots. If you know anything about Venice – it’s basically a culinary paradise, loaded with cichetti, which are tapas-style snacks available at little bacari (wine bars) tucked into the tiny calle(alleyways) of Venice. Think fresh seafood, sticks of fried things, and Spritz. YES SPRITZ!

It’s easy to eat very badly in Venice, especially if you stick to San Marco or other highly touristed areas. But I won’t be setting foot there and I have literally about 15 handfuls of places I know to be very, very good.

As is de rigueur when we meet up, sharing little noshes is something we both love to do. It enables us to order a wider variety of dishes to sample, which ends up being fun, much less calories and mo’ money left in the budget for – you guessed it – more food and wine at the next place!

This method of food consumption will come in mighty handy when we’re in Venice, working our way through about 50 places saved to my “must try list”. And no, that is not a typo. Fifty Places. We have five days. That’s alotta cicchetti.

I’m packing elastic waist pants. She’s bringing vomit bags. There might be purging involved. And someone should really alert the locals. Or at least the fisherman – bring extra from the lagoon. We are hungry and we will be on a mission. Hang on to your children, they could accidentally wind up bobbing in the canal as we fly past them in our feeding frenzy.

And it may or may not be moeche season. Little soft-shelled crabs from the lagoon are only around for a very brief period in spring and fall. I’ll know when I visit the Rialto Market and see fishmonger stalls brimming with them. We’re hopeful we’ll get to try the lightly fried and salted crustaceans, a delicacy I’ve only dreamt about.

After the dust settled on our whirlwind planning session, I had time to reminisce about the last time we enjoyed a similar time together. No surprise, it revolved around tapas-style snacks from France’s Basque region at a lively and popular spot – A Noste Paris.

No time like the present to tell you more about it.

VISITING A NOSTE PARIS

On a warm, sunny day in May, we strolled to the Bourse area, which is the financial district. Well off the tourist path, but quite popular with local bankers and business people. By all accounts it’s hard to get a table at dinner, and the place is normally packed and noisy. We wanted to visit and catch up, so we opted for lunch, which promised to be a quieter experience.

They have an outdoor terrace, but we opted for a table inside, right next to a large open window, which gave the feeling of open-air dining; there was a gentle breeze and a street view which included a lovely geranium-bedecked facade across the street.

Inside the place is cozy, fun and colorful; red being the color of choice. Chalkboard menus hang above the cramped bar; layers of faded white streaks suggest the tapas specials change daily.

Adjacent to the main dining area sits a quirky, yet adorable little food truck. Wine bottles, stemware and plates were on display and a few stools placed in front were just staged, the impending crowds would be arriving in a few hours.

In the evening, this little truck turns into a bustling station churning out something called Taloa, a Basque creation. A mash-up between a crepe, stuffed flatbread pita, mexican tortilla and socca; but a crunchy, tasty one, since it’s made with cornmeal. I had never heard of one, but I wanted one in the worst way. Sadly I’d have to wait as they weren’t making them that day.

A tiny bumper sticker on the side of the truck caught my eye. In French it reads, Je me gare comme une merde. My high-school level language skills recognizes only “I” and “shit”. Anne translates – it means I park like shit. So cheeky. I’m instantly smitten with the personality of the place. We both have a good giggle!

Our delightful, English-speaking waiter was friendly and chatty throughout our lunch, which really just added to the fun vibe. He rattled off the drink specials and when he got to Sangria, we immediately both chose it. I mean, how can you have Spanish style tapas without Sangria? Turns out, you cannot.

We ordered and shared an assortment of tasty small plates, all beautifully presented, including fried calamari, served in a giant napkin-lined wooden clog (there’s that personality again!); arancini on a bed of arborio rice and some really tasty meat-wrapped-cheese skewered with grapes and sprinkled with chives. We happily devoured it all.

I’m not a huge dessert person, but I am a fan of salted butter caramel. Even if the aforementioned merde was covered in caramel beurre salé, there is a good chance I would slather it on a cracker and eat it. Don’t judge me.

So, naturally we split an order of choux vanillé, caramel beurre salé . We dipped and nibbled our way through the custard- filled pastry puffs; narry a drop of that luscious caramel remained. One of us may have embarrassed herself, committing a faux-pas by wiping the bowl clean and licking her sticky fingers. It wasn’t the Parisienne.

To balance out all the sugar, we also ordered passionfruit creme brûlée, garnished with rosemary. Because, well, fruit is healthy, even if it is served encrusted in broiled sugar. And rosemary is an herb, which is really close to being a vegetable. See, healthy.

We both agreed the entire meal was delicious and worthy of a repeat visit. Since they do tapas, taloa, have a full restaurant upstairs and also do brunch, there are so many ways to dine here. All the more reason to go back again. And again.

I’ll definitely be trying the Taloa on a return trip. And perhaps after pairing it with a few more Sangrias, I too, can park like shit.