What you’d find if you cut me open right now
By Brooklyn Rodgers | January 21, 2026 | 2:28 PM
I spent the past week in Paris eating my way through the city, and I feel morally obligated to report back. What follows is a collection of the best things I ate.
That said, the single worst meal of the trip was, without question, at Madame Brasserie inside the Eiffel Tower. Photos not included, you’re welcome. Thankfully, our server was delighted by our drunk Spanish and kept the wine flowing, which, honestly, is all you really need when you’re dining inside one of the most beautiful landmarks on earth.
Breakfast
The French do breakfast right. The first photo is from a €24 breakfast I ordered that somehow included orange juice, hot chocolate, an egg-and-herb omelette, toast with butter and jam, and a croissant—an astounding number of items and vessels balanced on the smallest table you can imagine.
Hot chocolate became a staple of this January trip. Thick, rich, real chocolate—not powdered—and consistently excellent all over Paris. And finally, the pistachio latte at Café Nuances was a sleeper hit: unexpected and perfect.
Lunch
It’s hard for me to think about the ravioli au gratin at Le Flore en L’Île, mostly because I know I can’t have it here. Fingerprint-sized, delicate ravioli stuffed with something green, blanketed in cream sauce and topped with broiled cheese. Looking at them now feels like seeing an ex.
Croque madame is a staple, and this one was… fine. The broth in our pho was disappointing, and I felt similarly underwhelmed by my French onion soup—something my sister is, frankly, doing better at Bistecca.
The nigiri at Sushi Spot, however, was insane—especially the salmon nigiri with cream cheese, which I somehow had never experienced until now. And finally, I was delighted by the truffle ravioli at Angelina at the Château de Versailles. Despite being cold, it was one of the best things I ate on the trip.
Dinner
I ate more red meat than I usually do on this trip, with the standout being duck at Poulette and Chez Janou—both fantastic, each served with perfectly balanced demi-glaces that could genuinely make you tear up.
I also had a steak with Roquefort sauce at Chez Gladines, my first time revisiting a cream sauce on steak since a particularly traumatizing blue-cheese–smothered incident in New York City. I’m happy to report this one did not re-open old wounds.
The dauphine ravioli at Chez Janou, however, was not memorable.
Drinks
COKE ZERO WITH LEMON. It’s the only way to live. Pictured is one of the many Coke Zeros with lemon consumed on this trip—particularly delicious when hungover. Life-changing, frankly.
We also drank a lot of funky-ass cocktails in Paris, most of which blurred together. That said, I genuinely appreciated the experimentation across many of the menus. At Rojo and Bar Nouveau in particular, I felt like I was drinking cocktails I truly couldn’t get in the U.S.
That feeling turned out to be true. I discovered post-mortem that Bar Nouveau is ranked #17 on the 2025 World’s Best Bars list—a ranking that largely excludes U.S. bars. Which is funny, considering we stopped in purely because it was halfway on our walk home and got us out of the cold.
Dessert
Pavlova with ripe red fruit is excellent. Turkish ice cream—especially when given the option to coat it in pistachios—is also excellent, and I’m even more fond of Bachir because the ice cream scooper hit on me.
Kith Treats Paris, for some reason, sucks. This is unfortunate, because Kith Treats Dallas is great. On the other hand, the iconic chocolate mousse at Chez Janou is unreal—partly because the server whips out a massive vat from who knows where and unceremoniously slops it onto the plate, and partly because it tastes like chocolate Jell-O pudding, but better, thanks to a generous hit of sea salt.
It’s apparently a widely held belief that the food in Paris isn’t that good. That was not my experience, and I think the photos alone back that up.
I’m of the opinion that food can be appreciated for its quirks and presentation anywhere. I’ve enjoyed “bad” food in places with famously bad food scenes because food is the story of a place—and not all stories are meant to be cathartic.
Brooklyn in Dallas 