Making a Meal of the Metro

Why is it that the Paris Metro always makes me hungry? On a Sunday evening, not long after landing at Charles de Gaulle Airport, we were indulging in a favored past time: dinner.  Restaurant Marty, a warm, welcoming room in the lower 5th arrondissement served as a great place to dine with French friends.  I cast my eyes over the menu and immediately thought  “There it is again!  The Metro!  It always leads me to food!” What I had spied – and ultimately ordered – was “Parmentier de civet de biche,” a potato stew made with young doe meat that had been cooked slowly to a point of tenderness where the meat gave way to my fork effortlessly.  Parmentier is the name of a metro station, which I had learned about while writing a book on the Paris Metro.   Parmentier was the person who introduced the cultivation of the potato into France early in the reign of Louis XVI and thereby lessened the effects of a recalcitrant famine. Subsequently, dishes made with a predominance of potatoes were called “parmentier.”  However, I wasn’t thinking of 18th century famine as the intense flavors of potato and stewed venison exploded in my mouth.  I was thinking of how blessed I was that the Metro transported me gastronomically as well as physically.  Coincidentally, the restaurant was located on the rue Gobelins, another metro stop that would, on all future occasions cause me to recall the savory tastes of parmentier as well as the tapestries after which Gobelins is named. Perhaps my personal quirks have led me to see food everywhere but the names really are there and the associations with gastronomy are strong.  While regarding the highly-characteristic, wrought iron, Art Nouveau entrance of the Palais Royale metro, my thoughts immediately transferred to a different temple of Art Nouveau, the restaurant Lucas Carton.  There the chef Alain Senderens creates magic in a dining room completely covered in sensuous wood carvings by another great Art Nouveau master, Majorelle.  Clearly, for me, Art Nouveau, the metro and food are intricately bound! The menu proved my point. The first entrée was Coquilles St. Jacques, infused with spices and served with gingered zucchini.  Yes, there is a metro St. Jacques and while it wasn’t named directly for a sea scallop, there is a very definite connection.  St. Jacques memorializes a spot along a major pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain, for centuries one of the most-visited shrines in Christendom.  Santiago is St. Jacques in Spanish.  Pilgrims survived the rigorous journey along the coastal part of the route by eating sea scallops, which could be had for free.  It was not long before this staple of their diet became known as St. Jacques and its shell used as the symbol of the pilgrim. Without providing further pangs of hunger, suffice it to say the lunch at Lucas Carton was indeed memorable.  As we stepped out of the restaurant, however, we found ourselves in front of the Eglise Madeleine and its metro of the same name. Ah!  Madeleines!  Those sweet little crusty cakes, made famous by Proust.  Others may see a church or the metro at Madeleine; I see biscuits.  On reflection, it is clear that one can make an entire, classic French meal of the Metro.  As an entrée, commence with the afore-mentioned St. Jacques.  For a fish course, move on to either metro Poissonieres or Poissonier.  Both of these stations were along the market route from the seacoast in Brittany to central Paris.  For the meat course, travel to Mouton-Duvernet.  While I find lamb preferable to the more strongly-flavored mutton, mutton will do.  A nice Parmentier dish will make a fine accompaniment to it.  For the salad course, it is onward to Maraichers.  This area in the eastern Paris was famous for its garden markets: lettuce, vegetables and fruits.  No French meal would be complete without cheese and for this, one should take line 7 to Pyrenees.  There may be other cheeses too; I’ve heard it said that practically every saint has a cheese named after him or her.  That would make a fine cheese plate indeed on the Metro, which has about a dozen saints.  For dessert, one could have Madeleines, though they’re usually a mid-morning sort of thing.  There are also Sablons, a shortbread cookie and that chocolate, layered cake called an Opera. This quite satisfactory meal could be washed down with a good wine at Cour St. Emilion, a stop on the new line 14. The abstemious could drink water obtained at the Chateau d’Eau, or have an infusion of Jasmin tea.  One can even find a fork to eat this meal with at La Fourche. With over 200 stops on the metro, it’s clear that one need not go hungry.  I’m sure with a little imagination, there’s more food to be found.  But I’ll save that for another meal. Bonjour Paris is pleased to have Susan Plotkin as a contributor.