It took a New York native like Woody Allen to capture all the romance and nostalgic charm of Paris in the movie Midnight in Paris. Parisians themselves feel exactly the same way, but have that intrinsic “too cool to care” attitude to openly gush about their amazing City of Lights as he did.
Every year I make my pilgrimage there, finding inspiration in every flaky bite of a croissant, bitter sip of coffee, tang of rose wine mingled with lingering cigarette smoke on the terraces of my favorite city. I remember my first year there, convinced that no great artist had ever truly come of age without living at some point in Paris. Hemingway was my idol sans the beard and the misogyny. I drank 500 cups of coffee a day, scribbling away on my Moleskine notebooks, furiously smoking cigarette after cigarette. (Today, the ciggies have been junked to rescue my happy lungs.) I go back and still drink it all in, absorbing, like a soft Baba au Rum, all the syrupy goodness the city has to offer. Every year I come back, the familiar haunts grow even more welcoming, the new joints more exciting — a city in its poetic irony always constant but forever changing.
This particular trip had left me short and wanting. Limited in time, I had to pare down to the essentials. For those itchy-footed wanderers like me out there, keep this article on file: if you had 24 hours in Paris, here’s what you could do.
8:30 am: Start your day right where the heart and soul is in the Left Bank. Dress in understated colors such as a nice beige cashmere sweater with some jeans or white trousers, which perfects a nicely cut blazer. The gentlemen can add a touch of fancy with a silk scarf or hanky. Sit on the terrace of Les Deux Magots (6 Place Saint Germain des Pres) facing the medieval church of Saint Germain des Pres. Breakfast is the only time locals come around with their newspapers, sipping overpriced but excellently brewed coffee, expertly eating their gorgeous baskets of mini-croissants and viennoiseries without getting a crumb on themselves, and taking a shot of fresh-pressed orange juice. If the waiter is being particularly snobby that day, head over to the left to Le Bonaparte (42 Rue Bonaparte), an even more local haunt, and enjoy dipping your buttered baguettes into perfectly coddled eggs. Now’s your chance to order a café au lait or cappuccino, because any time after 11 a.m. you’ll be considered a tourist. Just do the French thing and order an express or deca.
3:30 p.m.: Walk over to Place des Vosges and ogle the gorgeous paintings in the numerous galleries. Grab a seat at Chez Carette (25 Place des Vosges), order their lemon tart and raspberry. A classic salon de thé or teahouse, you could order tea but why do that when you can have more rosé wine?
5 p.m.: Make your way to David Mallet (David Mallett: david-mallett.com), the best haircut you’ll ever get. Change your look, trust them completely and you’ll feel like a million bucks afterward. The gorgeous Hausmannian apartment with dizzingly high ceilings and elegant décor is home to some of the best hairstylists in town. As Rishi was cutting my hair he was sharing his schedule for the following day: styling Natalie Portman’s hair for the new Dior campaign. Enough said.
6 p.m.: Walk over to Place des Victoires and buy a new outfit from uber-Parisian Zadig et Voltaire (www.zadig-et-voltaire.com). Preferably some kind of sweater that looks moth-bitten and chic at the same time for a crazy amount. And some torn jeans.
9 p.m.: Have dinner at Frenchie (www.frenchie-restaurant.com) run by young, avant-garde chef Gregory Marchand, who makes menus that change daily, applying modernist techniques to traditional ingredients. I suppose it could be hit-or-miss but that day, all the other items of the meal were totally overshadowed by one perfectly cooked duck breast. Amazingly crispy skin and flesh so tender it was obscene. Served with a beet jus, it was as rocking as their tattoo-inspired logo.
Want more of a sure deal? I can never stress how fantastic L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon (5 Rue Montalembert, www.joel-robuchon.net) is. If you go, indulge. Have the caviar with a poached egg en feullantine, the bone marrow toasts, the foie gras and the lamb chops. Yes, you can do it. It’s amazing.
3:30 a.m.: Stumble out of the bar suppressing your laughter as you walk towards Rue Tiquetonne to Babylon Bis (34 Rue Tiquetonne). Open from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m., this is the true-blue Parisian experience. Don’t let the big African guy at the door frighten you … he puts on a surly face and asks why you want to go in. Just smile and say, “Poulet braise!” Order that, some rice, all three sauces and some fried bananas — ooh, and why not some bacalao fritters? Guaranteed to keep your hangover away.
6:30 a.m.: Right before heading to bed, grab a coffee and croissant, and as you stare down and ponder the flecks that drift in your cup, don’t hesitate if you want to nix the sleep and do it all over again.