In the 11th, behind Bastille, sits a Parisian heirloom where clinking wine glasses mingle with midday laughter and cheeseboards ooze with Crème de Bleu and Roquefort. Bistrot Paul Bert is a childhood neighbor, always happy to see you and never intimidating of a late bite to eat. The decor is true nineteenth century and the plates are waiting for your tongues to lick them clean. From hand cut steak frites rivaling their steak tartare companion to waterfalls of peppercorn sauce and creme fraiche, bon appetit. Bistrot Paul Bert, 18 Rue Paul Bert[Photo via]
In the 11th, behind Bastille, sits a Parisian heirloom where clinking wine glasses mingle with midday laughter and cheeseboards ooze with Crème de Bleu and Roquefort. Bistrot Paul Bert is a childhood neighbor, always happy to see you and never intimidating of a late bite to eat. The decor is true nineteenth century and the plates are waiting for your tongues to lick them clean. From hand cut steak frites rivaling their steak tartare companion to waterfalls of peppercorn sauce and creme fraiche, bon appetit.
Bistrot Paul Bert, 18 Rue Paul Bert
[Photo via]
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