wine bar is to offer the precise origin and year of the wines, either on the menu, or on the black board on the wall. La Palette, by this standard, falls short of the basic requirements, as it does not display the wines infos, millesime and estate' name. But I still include the place in my wine bar list. True, I had to ask the waiter twice to know my wine's whereabouts, and he had to go back look on the bottle for that, when he was busy preparing other orders. But I so much enjoy having my glass of Saint Véran while standing at the zinc counter at La Palette and looking around, that I'll pass on the annoyance and shortcomings... And after all, isn't this concept of information-consciousness very modern ? 60 years ago, people (and demanding wine lovers) were able to enjoy wine without having to know the full ID-info of their wine, contenting themselves with knowing it was a Bourgogne, or a Morgon, and all what they needed to grasp was in the wine. I think it's healthy to revert to this non-expert way of enjoying wine, from time to time : Un Saint Véran, S'il vous plait !
but this relaxed student atmosphere survives in La Palette. While other bars and cafés on Boulevard Saint-Germain went from gathering place for bohème writers and existentialist students to world-famous chic spots for wealthy writers and tourists, La Palette still has the magic and the affordability of this long-gone era, maybe because it is very close to the Ecole Des Beaux Arts (ENSBA) and its art students who keep the spirit alive. Of course, the patrons here tend to be older than in the past, and you will more likely be sitting near aging baby boomers, but depending of the hour, the students are still around. It also has its share of celebrities, Guy Savoy and Harrison Ford (among others) are known to have fallen under the charm of the bar (they're terracers, though, and I prefer the counter or the room). To Reach La Palette, leave the Bd St-Germain and turn at Rue de Seine toward the Seine river, pass the cute Rue de Buci with the faux-old-Paris look and Gavroche-caps (casquettes Gavroche) of the Bar du Marché (notwithstanding also a nice place to have a glass), La palette is at the corner with the Rue Jacques Callot.
The last time I walked into La Palette, Olivia Ruiz' song La Femme Chocolat was being played and her voice and the gorgeous melody resonated in my head for the rest of the day. Melodies share with wines the mysterious ability to create a magic of grace and strength that can persist long after the initial contact. Haven't you noticed as certain wines' complex flavors also resonate in the mouth hours after having been drunk, sometimes even the next day...
though La Palette has a nice terrace (heated in the cold months) like everywhere else nowadays in Paris, the "real" Palette is inside, at the counter or in the room behind. The whole place is "classé" meaning the owners can't renovate in a way that would alter the authenticity, that's why it looks like it never changed since the 1920s'. The metal counter has this beautiful shiny patina, and even the lonely crack seems frozen in time for ever. The back room was originally a billard room. Mirrors on its walls make it look larger than it is. Like on the counter side, paintings hang up high near the ceiling, reminding you that you La Palette sits in the middle of the art galleries district in-and-near Rue de seine. Art-gallery owners are among the regulars of the bar and you may hear all the secrets of the art market by just sipping your wine here at the right time of the day. As I said above, the counter and the back room is the real thing at La Palette. 
The whole place is not that big, and the staff, which has little room to maneuver, uses the narrow passage on the back of the counter to bring the drinks and orders into the back room [picture above left] . The toilet is in a corner on the right when you walk in, and the kitchen_ not really a kitchen, but a small preparation room_ is next to it, and actually as small. But the food seems good, if I can judge with the crowd at lunch. But the lack of space led the original designers of this bar (it was created in 1905) to show surprising skills in ergonomic engineering : If you stand long enough at the counter, you'll probably see the waiter unexpectedly drop through a narrow trap-door to the cellar, walking backwards because the stairs are so steep and the opening so narrow [pic on right]...
I have a wine bar in my own kitchen...hehe
Posted by: cityfarmer | April 27, 2007 at 02:37 AM