Wild man Pierre Jancou's (above) new place, Racines, is in Passage des Panaoramas in the 2nd. Get off at the metro Grands Boulevard, walk past the theater and hang a left. Easy.
The operation is not nearly as damned cute as his previous place, Cave Miard. But, still it's kitted out with puce finds (and some rickety tables) and the whole scene made me think of some divorced guy living in a walk-up apartment rather in his usual doorman place. And indeed, Pierre's intense energy is like that of a newly liberated man. In fact, he loves being in the Passages, "It's like being in Paris but not in Paris," he explained. "There are no rules. If we want to put chairs outside we don't have to apply to the authorities."
By 9:30 the telephone booth sized resto, mostly a no-sulphured wine sort of place, had filled up with mostly Brit ex-pat clientele who were astutely oggling the wines, including several vintages of Pierre Overnoy's wines, which sat like prized pearls on the top shelves and ordering off the limited Frenchy-peasant menu.
Pascaline dived into a plate of charcuterie (lardo fans, listen up) and a very bunny smelling compote lapin ( 8 euro). Jenny had a plate of braised beef, musky like my mother's flanken. This is a very andouiette (16 euro) sort of place even though Pierre told us, with such feeling, he is desperate to make pasta dishes when his gas finally gets turned on. For me, he turned out the prettiest plate of lettuce, laced with shallots and a savory pesto dressing. I got no crap for not eating the andouiette, as long as we was there to drink, he was happy.
Racines
8, Passage des Panoramas
Paris, 75002
+33 1 40 13 06 41
