I would like to go here, please.
(From the September 2009 issue of Departures)
Le Verre Vole
Ramshackle chic might best describe my favorite lunch spot in Paris. Le Verre Volé (“the Stolen Glass”) is a bewitching cavern located near the leafy banks of the Canal St.-Martin. It features a half-dozen mismatched tables, walls lined with bottles (their prices—from $6 to $275—marked in chalk), a soundtrack that shifts from DJ Shadow to Thelonious Monk, and servers who joke with diners.
“I’ve always loved wine, but I can’t stand the snobbery that goes with it,” owner Cyril Bordarier says. “I got tired of selling wine I didn’t like to people I didn’t like. I wanted somewhere I could feel at home.” Bordarier prefers his ambiance casual, but his taste is nonetheless exacting. Le Verre Volé offers an extensive selection of natural and biodynamic wines and a concise blackboard menu of hearty but sophisticated dishes.
Recently I selected a Vosne-Romanée Les Hautes Maizières, one of Bordarier’s favorite Burgundies. Elegant and supple, it was perfect with my velvety veal carpaccio yet was robust enough for an entrée of spicy blood sausage. As he brought the cheese, I told Bordarier he’d make a fine sommelier. “Pas question!” he replied, joining me for a glass. “But you see, I’ve never really trusted sommeliers.”
$ Dinner, from $40 with wine. At 67 Rue de Lancry; 33-1/48-03-17-34; leverrevole.fr.
