Banh'd from the Marais

Madame's thimble sized sandwich shop at 7 rue Volta in the Haute Marais is as sparkling clean as a whistle and her banh mi ranks numero uno. Taking our orders she snaps on a pair of latex gloves and fires up the hot plate. Resting walnut sized gobs of marinated and grilled pork, beef, and chicken on fresh baked baguette, between long slices of cucumber that's been pickled by her own hand, Madame's affection for the typical Vietnamese sandwich is evident in every gesture. Condiments - cilantro, spicy sauce, chilis - are equally crispy and a delectable combination with the tender meat and molasses-colored sauce.

Madame is originally from China but has taken to the Vietnamese sandwich trade with passion and dedication that is unmatched in Paris. She is also a chatterbox. Not shy to share her pride in her product - and the proof is in the taste.

Take note wannabe banh mi proprietors. No pathetically shredded, dry pork or bald, wilted cilantro in sight. Madame blows the competition out of the water on quality and hygiene alone. Cleanliness? Yes. Hand sanitizer is available for the unwashed patrons right there on the counter. Add to that Madame's grinning, effervescent service and all hail the champion of banh mi in Paname. Fade out to "Eye of the Tiger".

Address:
Banh Mi
7 rue Volta
75003 Paris
Métro : Arts et Métiers
Map

Montant à payer: 5 euro

Udon know?

Udon, and similarly, ramen, usually remind me of dried packets of nothing-natural mixed with suspicious (but delicious) bricks of dried noodles. They were a dollar a package and the highlight of the afterschool period (that or Cheez Its). I admit. I ate them raw sometimes.

This was my definition of udon until... ahem.. recently. Udon may be described as the stepchild to soba's firstborn status.




However today, on the heels of a gnarly cold, the bowl of warm salty broth, perfectly firm noodles, and ridiculously healthy seaweed was my one true love. I suppressed the childlike urge to draw on the steamed window. Smiled at the perfectly ascending paper napkins on the counter. Slurped up the spicy broth like the Japanese dudes next to me. Vowed that next time my technique would be at least as graceful as that of my dining partner, and that the next time would be soon.

Montant à payer:
Udon bowls: 8 euro - 15 euro. From the looks of things the tempura is also a crowd pleaser.

If Udon't know, now you know:
Kunitoraya
Tel. : 01 47 03 33 65
39 rue Sainte-Anne 75001 Paris
Métro : Pyramides ou Opéra