Travelling the world allows us to discover new cuisines, cultures that have nothing to do with our own, and unexpected places. From small street food stalls in Bangkok to Michelin-starred restaurants in New York, we have the chance to eat in places of all styles and budgets. But despite this incredible diversity, there’s one thing I miss every time I travel. I can try the simplest, most typical restaurants, as well as the starred ones. It’s not a question of quality, finesse or sophistication, but rather something to do with atmosphere, which is almost cultural: the French bistro.
A brief history of the French bistro
The concept of the French bistro dates back to the XIXᵉ century, when small Parisian properties began serving simple, affordable dishes in a friendly, relaxed atmosphere. The bistro quickly became a fundamental part of French gastronomic culture, offering a space to eat, chat and socialize.
The term “bistro” comes from the Russian word “быстро” (bystro), meaning “fast”. Legend has it that Russian soldiers garrisoned in Paris during the Franco-Russian war of 1814 asked to be served quickly, giving rise to the term. However, this origin remains uncertain.
Another, more logical version is provided by Alain Fontaine, restaurateur and president of the Association for the Recognition of the Art of Living in the Bistros and Cafés of France as Intangible Cultural Heritage: it comes from the Old French word “bistrouillet“, meaning “of little things”.
Bistros developed with the urbanization of Paris in the XIXᵉ century, meeting the needs of the working class and office workers looking for quick, simple meals. They became essential meeting places, particularly for Parisian intellectuals and artists in the early XXᵉ century, such as writers and painters who met in bistros like La Rotonde or Le Procope.
A unique atmosphere
When I think of French bistros abroad, I immediately recall this very special atmosphere. It’s not a luxury restaurant, but a simple place where you feel at home. A bistro is first and foremost a zinc, a timeworn pewter counter where generations of customers have sat to share a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. It’s not just a bar or a restaurant; it’s a place where people come to chat, exchange ideas and even philosophize, all without pretension. Far from standardized formulas, the French bistro exudes authenticity.
And I’d even go so far as to say that it’s the ancestor of social networks: you get to know each other, you socialize, you exchange, you learn from each other.
After all, wasn’t it Sam Palmisano, then CEO of IBM, who addressed students at a top French business school at the time of the boom in online social networking, saying
“And you, go social networking, not online but in bars.”
So the bistro represents much more than just cuisine. Sure, steak-frites and blanquette de veau are iconic, but it’s the conviviality that makes these dishes memorable. The chatty waiter always ready with a joke, the regulars, the menu written in chalk on a slate, the checkered tablecloth – all these markers combine to create a warm atmosphere that I’ve never really found anywhere else.
An atmosphere you can’t find anywhere else
The Italian Osteria is perhaps the closest thing to this. But it focuses on regional, terroir-based cuisine, whereas the French bistro has a more universal vocation in terms of French gastronomy.
The Spanish tapas bar: you share small bites instead of sitting down to a meal. You don’t stay as long either, as you’re more into nibbling than eating.
The German Biergarten cultivates the culture of beer, whereas the bistro places greater emphasis on wine and is an outdoor property. The closest thing to a bistro is the Alsatian Bierstub and its cousin the winstub, which puts wine back at the center of the village. But they do justice to excellent Alsace cuisine, and what’s more, they lack the traditional zinc without which a bistro will never be a bistro.
What about the American diner? It’s not a place where you stay, where you linger, and the aim is to increase customer turnover, not to let them have an interminable chat over a drink. The service is impersonal and lacks zinc. And it has no personality or strong cultural roots. There’s a bistro culture, but no diner culture.
Still in the U.S., there are real bistros that have taken on all the codes of the French bistro: logically, they were created either by Frenchmen or by Americans who understood that the “Frenchie” side of the concept was bound to catch on. All the codes except one: service! I won’t go back over the fact that service in the United States is getting worse and worse year after year, to the point where it’s expected to sink to abysmal depths, but being French over there means a certain style, an art de vivre, associated with something luxurious. The result is a totally overplayed service where simplicity and conviviality have disappeared, where the waiter thinks he’s in a gourmet restaurant where you don’t even have to think about coming in unannounced without a reservation to have a beer, a glass of wine or an egg mayonnaise at the counter.
When you mix the spirit of a bistro with the service of a hip restaurant, you get a gastronomic Frankenstein without personality, where the very essence of the concept has been lost.
And in any case, there’s a relationship to wine and aperitifs in the French bistro that isn’t as present in similar venues abroad, where drinking may be less central to the culinary experience.
I can take the question in all directions; the French bistro is distinguished by its traditional cuisine, its intimate atmosphere, its link with French culture and history, and its relationship with wine and the art of living. A model, often imitated, never equalled, that remains unique thanks to its roots in French heritage and society.
The luxury of simplicity
In fact, it’s this simplicity that I miss the most. The bistro is a place where you can sit down without fuss, order a generous dish and feel free to take your time. At a time when the restaurant business is moving towards ever greater sophistication, the bistro reminds me that pleasure often lies in the simplest things.
Abroad, as I said, I’ve often found venues that try to recreate the spirit of the French bistro, but there’s always something missing. Sometimes, it’s the welcome that’s too formal, or the decor that’s too “postcard”; other times, the prices soar, whereas the spirit of the bistro is also to be affordable for all. We were talking about this the other day with some friends, and agreed that if you transpose a good Parisian bistro where you can eat real home-made food for 15 euros at lunchtime, or a starter, main course and dessert menu with aperitif, wine and coffee for less than 50 euros in New York, the bill will undoubtedly rise to 100 euros, excluding tax and service.
This simplicity, which some consider outdated in France, is in fact a precious luxury, even if I sometimes have to be abroad to realize it.
You miss a bistro…
The bistro is not just a restaurant, but a pillar of our culture. Every culture has its own equivalent of the bistro, whether it’s the osteria in Italy or the tapas bar in Spain, but for me nothing is quite like the French bistro, where the cuisine, the atmosphere and the encounters produce something quite unique. And there’s no doubt that Italians and Spaniards say the same thing about the properties that are emblematic of their culture.
In short, when I’ve been away from France for several weeks, it’s not unusual for me to grab a bite at my favorite bistro as soon as I leave the airport, sometimes even before I get home to drop off my bags.
A long post with a touch of nostalgia, inspired by some figures: did you know that the French bistro is an endangered species? There were 500,000 in 1900, 400,000 after the Second World War, and fewer than 40,000 in 2024.
And what does the bistro represent for you? Is it a symbol to be preserved, an institution to be reinvented or a relic of another era doomed to disappear?
Image : parisien bistro by Catarina Belova via Shutterstock.
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