My favorite books about Paris for foodies and historians

Not a repeat reader by nature, this book I have read three times, and keep a digital copy handy because I find myself consulting it when I’m in Paris. As a historian of 19th-century art, I knew modern Paris was the co-creation of Napoleon III and Baron Haussmann; its many boulevards, department stores, parks, train stations, and now ubiquitous 7-story, white buildings with wrought-iron window grates emerged during the second half of the 19th-century. Professor DeJean persuaded me otherwise: that Henry IV made the first modern improvements: planned neighborhoods, tax incentives to encourage enterprise, streetlights, and Europe’s first stone bridge intended for spectating rather than commerce – the Pont Neuf had no buildings, just alcoves with stone benches for viewing the city from the Seine River that traverses it.

In grad school, Adam and I had the same advisor, McArthur ‘Genius’ Kirk Varnedoe, and as a lifelong New Yorker reader, I’ve avidly followed his career. Paris to the Moon is an engaging memoir of his family and professional life as an ex-pat New Yorker writer in Paris during the 1990s. I love his insider-outsider perspective and the fact that he lived in my favorite neighborhood, rive Gauche at the boundary between the 6th and 7th arrondissements. With a sociologist-anthropologist’s eye, Adam interrogates the quintessentially Parisian (why Café Flore has surpassed Deux Magots in fashionability, for instance), attends lectures by celebrity sociologist Jean Beaudrillard, muses about the public reception of labor strikes, negotiates toddler culture in Paris, and take us food exploring with the iconic Alice Waters.

I always recommend this short read to anyone wanting to understand the weird, dystopic side of the late 19th-century Symbolist movement. Written in 1884 at the beginning of the avant-garde art movement that launched 20th-century modernism and abstraction, Huysmans tells the tale of an aristocrat repulsed by a Paris transformed by urbanization, commercialization, and massive immigration who builds himself a ‘Fortress of Solitude’ in a quiet suburb and interacts with the world through his imagination with the help of a loyal servant who maintained his physical milieu, silently serving meals and performing domestic tasks. Who doesn’t want to know more about a man determined to beautify his environment by commissioning a jeweler to embed precious stones into the shell of his pet tortoise?

Although not inspired by Ernest Hemingway, I have always frequented the same neighborhoods: the Latin Quarter around place Contrescarpe, where EH lived with his first wife, Hadley, on rue Cardinal Lemoine, and on the other side of the Luxembourg Garden along boulevard Montparnasse, where he lived beside a lumber mill just behind the still-wonderful restaurant La Cloiserie des Lilas, situated across from the Port-Royal RER station. Paris in 1920s, when Hemingway lived there, was an exhilarating place inhabited by other influential expats: James Joyce, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein. This memoir, written late in life, recounts the author’s adventures in Kerouac-like fashion during the years he was composing The Sun Also Rises.

After more than a decade as pastry chef at the renowned Chez Panisse in Berkeley, DL relocated to Paris in 2004. His blog and books have become the source of culinary advice for savvy American expats and tourists visiting the City of Light. Appart (French slang for apartment) is the adventure-filled story of DL as he establishes himself as a Parisian, an experience recounted with hilarity, insight, and, naturally, delicious recipes. Anyone entertaining the idea of moving to Paris (or wondering what that might be like) must read this delightful memoir.