Few things make you feel like a local like a favorite spot you return to, again and again. A spot you take friends, somewhere you regularly recommend to others. The food is familiar and reliably excellent, and it’s in a neighborhood you enjoy and know well.
Restaurant Josephine Chéz Dumonet in Paris’ 6th arrondissement, the heart of the Latin Quarter, is like that for me. I stumbled upon it on a solo trip to Paris many years ago, and never visit the city now without making a pilgrimage.
To me, Josephine Chéz Dumonet is exactly the kind of place to go if you want to eat real French food, excellently prepared, in a classically French environment. The dining room is not large, but hides more tables than is immediately clear when you enter the narrow space. It is cozy, warm, and smells good. The waiters feel (and are) very French. It isn’t thronged with Americans. If you’re visiting Paris and want somewhere really Paris-y, this is the place.
I’ve been enough times now to know there are two menu items which are non-negotiable. The first is a langoustine appetizer, served in a buttery, citrusy, herbaceous sauce. The French and their sauces—God bless. You’ll be scooping up the remains with baguette.
The second is the Grand Marnier Soufflé, a towering, fluffy dessert served with an accompanying shot of Grand Marnier, the potent French orange liquor. At this point in the meal, you will already be near-drunk, and this will take things pleasantly over the top. This dessert is incredible. Make sure you order it at the start of the meal, which they require to ensure the soufflé is prepared in time. Drag your spoon along the very bottom to get all that caramelized sugar. Share if you must, but it’s not a requirement (I’d know).
Most often I’ve been here solo, savoring several courses and glasses of wine, alone with my thoughts. But I’ve now accumulated some special memories with people I love there, too. A few years ago, my husband’s sister and I took a week-long trip together to Paris. This was not only her first time in Paris, but her first time anywhere in Europe, and I was intent on showing her the many ecstatic pleasures contained therein. By the end of the meal, my teetotalling sister-in-law was drinking a kir and scraping up the remains of a substantial tarte tatin. My work here is done, I thought.
One time I walked leisurely over to Josephine Chéz Dumonet for lunch alone, a copy of Le Monde under my arm. I was seated outside on the sunny terrace, feeling hungry and joyful in a way I often feel on the streets of Paris alone. I ordered a rare steak with Béarnaise sauce, potatoes, and a glass of red wine. The waiter took this information in without any visible concern. I settled into Le Monde. A few minutes later, that same waiter walked out with an enormous slab of raw meat on a plate, and showed me (in front of the other terrace patrons) how BIG the cut I’d just ordered was. I’d describe his affect as a mix of admiration and horror. Maybe I had missed some kind of “for two” disclaimer with my limited French, but it felt too late in the game to change course. When it arrived it was still huge and perfectly cooked. It was deeply insane. I ate every bite.
When my son was nine months old, my husband and I took him on his first real vacation, to Belgium and France. The two-week trip ended in Paris, and a lunch at Josephine Chéz Dumonet on the final day was the only agenda item I was intent on keeping, in spite of my son’s mercurial moods and unpredictable naps. The trip had been wonderful but tiring: I had learned quickly that a “vacation” with a child is not really a vacation in the classical sense of the term, but more like parenting in another location. I was content but exhausted, and a little uneasy about how much my life had clearly changed, forever.
When we arrived at Josephine Chéz Dumonet for our lunch reservation, my son began to cry and fuss, as if on cue. Knowing how much I’d been looking forward to this, my husband quietly slipped outside with the stroller as I enjoyed my apéritif. He strolled slowly up and down Rue du Cherche-Midi until my son fell asleep. They were back inside by appetizers, and my son slept quietly the rest of my meal. I savored a lingering, wine-drenched lunch across from my kind and handsome husband; my beautiful son snoozing peacefully beside us. A moment you feel no one on earth could possibly be luckier than you.
La Bonne Adresse
Josephine Chéz Dumonet
117 Rue du Cherche-Midi
75006 Paris, France
Phone: +33 1 45 48 52 40