The City of Light
As much as I love beer, that isn't the reason why I keep coming back to Paris. But la bière is a full-fledged part of Parisian culture. I made that discovery during my first visit to the city. Wandering through the neighborhood around my hotel, I kept running into cafés called brasseries, French for "brewery."
There aren't any brew kettles inside the brasseries, and the beer selection is limited. But a century ago, Paris's brasseries actually were brewpubs. They're part of the Alsace region's contribution to the nation's culture. Alsace was German territory from 1870 to 1918, and Teutonic influence lives on in that region's language, food, and drink.
Brasseries are less formal than Parisian restaurants; they keep later hours, and serve snacks as well as full meals. They're also places to read a book, renew friendships, or spend some time people-watching. Most brasseries, especially the classics such as Lipp (151 Boulevard Saint-Germain), serve Alsatian dishes--most notably chocroute, or sauerkraut served with pork--and plenty of beer to wash it down. France's biggest-selling beers, including Kronenbourg, 1664, and Fischer, are Alsatian pilsners, which are lighter and more delicate than their German counterparts.
But there's more to French beer than mass-produced lager. French Flanders, which borders Belgium, is known for its distinctive farmhouse beer, a style which is undergoing a revival. It's called bière de garde, which means "beer to keep." By tradition, it was brewed in late winter; kept in storage until summer, when the presence of wild yeasts ruled out brewing; and given a secondary fermentation in large, corked bottles.
Bière de garde has an alcoholic content in the five- to eight-percent range. It's a malty beverage, with a spicy flavor and hints of caramel or fruit. The leading brands, such as Trois Monts, Jenlain, and La Choulette, are available in stores in much of North America. While bière de garde is expensive (a 750-milliliter bottle costs about $6), it's worth it, especially when served with dinner.
In addition to bière de garde, northern France is also the home of a distinctive Irish red ale, George Killian's Bière Rousse. Years ago, G.H. Lett Company, a tiny brewery owned by Ireland's Killian family, licensed the Pelforth brewery to brew its extra-strength Ruby Ale. Lett closed in 1956, but Ruby Ale and the Killian name both live on. You're probably familiar with America's Killian's Red: it's brewed by Coors under license, and is a distant cousin of the original Irish ale.
While French craft beers are rarely served in brasseries, they can be found in the city's famous beer bars, such as Au Trappiste (4, rue Saint-Denis), L'Academie de la Biere (88 bis, Boulevard de Port-Royal), and Pub St-Germain-des-Pres (17, Rue de l'Ancienne Comedie). They offer hundreds of bottled beers from all over, as well as a selection of beers a la pression.
Quite a few Parisian establishments, large and small, specialize in Belgian food and beer. On my most recent visit, I stopped at Le Bouillon Racine (3, rue Racine), a charming Art Deco establishment with pastel colors and mirrors everywhere. There was fresh kriek and framboise on tap, along with a Belgian menu featuring waffles and cheese plates.
And brewpubs have returned to Paris as well. Nine years ago, the Frog & Rosbif (116, rue Saint-Denis) made its debut. The Frog was a curiosity at first, largely catering to Brits in search of pub grub and a place to watch Premiership matches over a pint of bitter. But despite its authentic British atmosphere--or maybe because of it--the pub has gained a following among Parisians. In fact, it has proved so popular there are now three Frog pubs in town.
Frog & Rosbif's beer has improved over the years, and the lineup has grown to more than a dozen. My favorites include Parislytic, a strong, malty, ruby-colored ale dispensed out of a traditional beer engine; Dark de Triomphe, the Frog's rendition of a dry stout; and a strong, spicy holiday ale called Rosbif's Revenge.
There's another brewpub in Paris, with the unlikely name of O'Neil (20, rue des Canettes). It has a mellower, more Mediterranean ambience than the Frog pubs, and attracts a largely Francophone clientele. Its menu features flammekueche, a cross between a tart and a pizza, as well as international pub grub such as chili and fries.
O'Neil brews four year-round beers: Ambree, which resembles an American amber ale; Blanche, the brewmaster's interpretation of a Belgian-style wheat beer; Blonde, a light and fruity lager; and a dark-colored, intensely malty Brune. The pub is located in the Saint-German restaurant district, which makes it a perfect place to start the evening--with, of course, a beer apéritif.