Recommendation #7
15/12/2024, Mamiche, 32 Rue du Château d'Eau, 75010
If you’re Parisian you’ll be sick of the sight of this recommendation because everyone knows Mamiche. Its ze fashionable bobo bakery. It’s insufferably trendy and dangerously close to my flat.
I will caveat this recommendation though by saying I don’t love everything Mamiche related. On Saturday I was nursing a red wine, champagne & spicy Margarita hangover after a dîner arosé at la Belle Époque in the 2ème. I woke up with a headache and deep thirst for carbs (and water). I wandered down the Canal feeling self consciously grimy against the sea of weekend joggers. I headed down Rue Lucien Sampaix and straight past Mamiche bakery, I turned right down Rue Château d’Eau then left onto Rue Bouchardon where I headed into Mamiche Traiteur, the relatively new deli version of the bakery.
It’s got a bit of a revamped 50’s feel to it with it’s all white tiles and flashes of bright orange paint. It’s exactly what you would expect from the new arm of one of Paris’ most fashionable boulangerie. Though the original Mamiche sells sandwiches, in the traiteur they are “extra special sandwiches” less jambon beurre and more slices of ham hand-smoked by children in the Mountains of Italy with traditionally churned full-fat butter from the breast of a sacred cow baguette.
I purchase my favourite hangover food which is a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich (I know, fish on a hangover surprises me too) and with it an oat milk cappuccino. The prices are a bit too high for Paris. The salmon roll is what they call their mini sandwich and mini it was, that was 6.50euros. This I can accept, especially for good quality fish. The cappuccino however was weak and luke warm and at 5 euros: DAYLIGHT ROBBERY. The sandwich was fine but wasn’t a patch on a Brick Lane salmon and cream cheese bagel. Not to get too pedantic but I actually think the bread was wrong for the filling, a sourdough baguette requires a strong bite so can’t be paired with soft fillings because they just splurge out the sides (which is exactly what happened). Sodden in cream cheese and with my tepid cappuccino in hand I walked back on myself and begrudgingly queued for the classic Mamiche. I ordered a slab of babka and as the dense chocolate pastry filled my mouth I remembered why I love this place. Orgasmically good, sickeningly rich, chocolate babka. Tout ça pour dire, skip the deli and go straight the to the original.
