Month: January 2025
Some people move to Paris for love, others for work. Enrico managed both. At 28, this Italian historian traded Milan for the 19th arrondissement, chasing a teenage dream of living in the City of Light – and, as it happens, the French boyfriend didn’t hurt either.
On Choosing France
“I’d dreamt of living in Paris since I was 13,” Enrico told me. “The city’s allure was irresistible. And professionally, France seemed far more accommodating for someone like me who had studied history – not the most ‘specialised’ path.”
In other words: Italy moved slowly, Paris moved faster, and he was ready to catch up.
First Hurdles: Housing and Paperwork
Like every new arrival, he attempted the impossible: finding an apartment in Paris before moving. “Budget constraints and landlords’ demands made it nearly impossible,” he admits. Salvation arrived in the form of his French partner, who helped open doors otherwise bolted shut.
And then came the inevitable brush with French bureaucracy. “The Assurance Maladie process was painfully slow — long phone waits, little communication, and an approach to digitalisation that feels… optimistic at best. But, surprisingly, the tax office was fantastic. Quick, responsive, and helpful.” A phrase rarely uttered in France, but we’ll let the tax office have its moment.
Settling in the 19th Arrondissement
Enrico planted himself firmly on the rive droite. “I prefer the vibe of the north bank,” he explained. “The 19th has it all: traditional Paris streets, modern architecture, parks, and quieter corners.” In short: it’s Paris with layers, without the postcard pretence.
The Work Culture Shock
If housing was predictable chaos, the workplace was something else. “My first week felt surreal — I had to remind myself daily that I was finally living in Paris. But the real culture shock was in the workplace. In Italy, career progression takes time. In France, I found people advancing quickly, regardless of age. It felt like a completely different rhythm.”
And job-hunting? Thankfully, easier than flat-hunting. “Friends recommended Welcome to the Jungle, and it turned out to be an excellent resource.”
Language and Social Life
Enrico’s schoolboy French helped, but it was his relationship that made the difference. “Having a French boyfriend was the best crash course,” he laughed. “Daily language practice, plus someone to untangle all the acronyms of French administration.”
Making friends, however, wasn’t always straightforward. “At work, the international crowd made things easier. But sometimes the French can seem reserved — perhaps out of nervousness about speaking English.” Still, he built a network and found his Paris rhythm.
Life Between Italy and France
Having lived in Milan, the shock of Parisian prices wasn’t as brutal as it might have been. But the housing merry-go-round left its mark: “In just two years, I moved apartments four times,” he recalled. A very Parisian rite of passage — your loyalty is not measured in years lived in a flat, but in the number of boxes you’ve carried up narrow staircases.
Final Thoughts
Enrico’s Paris is not the city of glossy tourist brochures, nor is it the cliché of artists on the Left Bank. It’s the lived-in, ever-shifting Paris of the 19th arrondissement, the administrative letters in triplicate, the workplace that hums faster than expected. A Paris chosen for love, sustained by resilience, and made richer by its challenges.
As Enrico proves, embracing change in France is less about conquering culture shock and more about learning to laugh at it — preferably while waiting on hold with Assurance Maladie.
French: bouillir. English: to boil.
In France, however, a bouillon is not merely broth, but a whole institution: a bustling, democratic restaurant where good food arrives quickly, wine flows freely, and the bill arrives with suspicious modesty.
A butcher’s idea
The story begins in 1855 with Pierre-Louis Duval, a butcher from Montlhéry. His idea was brilliantly simple: serve workers a hot plate of boiled beef in broth at a fixed price. He opened his first shop on rue de Montesquieu, a stone’s throw from the great market of Les Halles. Porters, butchers, and market workers — who spent their days hauling carcasses and cabbages — needed something hearty and affordable. Duval gave it to them.
The formula was irresistible. By the turn of the century, bouillons had multiplied across Paris. More than 250 dotted the city by 1900, feeding everyone from labourers to clerks, artists to students. They were efficient, lively, and egalitarian — France’s answer to fast food long before the phrase was coined.
Cafés for the bohemians
It’s easy to imagine Montparnasse’s writers and painters — drunk on wine, words, and self-importance — ending up in a bouillon. Between arguments about philosophy and politics, they fuelled themselves with onion soup, steak, and cheap Bordeaux before stumbling back to create something immortal. Proust, no doubt, would have found something to remember about the ritual.
The decline and the revival
Bouillons began to fade in the mid-20th century. Modern cafés, brasseries, and the arrival of international fast food pushed them into decline. By the 1980s, only a handful survived, chief among them the legendary Bouillon Chartier near Grands Boulevards, still feeding Parisians in its gilded Belle Époque dining hall.
And then, against all odds, the bouillon made a comeback. Around 2017, new owners reopened historic dining halls and revived the format for a new generation. Bouillon Pigalle, with its cavernous red banquettes, was an instant hit. Suddenly, queues wrapped around the block for the very experience Parisians’ great-grandparents once took for granted: classic dishes, served without fuss, in a noisy, cheerful room where nobody pretends to be discreet. Even Emily in Paris has been to a bouillon.
Today, bouillons are thriving again — in Paris and beyond. They have become a modern ritual: friends meeting after work, tourists seeking “real” French food, students splurging on dessert, families eating together at long tables. It’s fast food à la française — but with linen tablecloths and a respectable wine list.
What’s on the menu?
A bouillon menu is a parade of French essentials:
- Entrées: oeufs mayonnaise, os à moelle, escargots.
- Plats: soupe à l’oignon gratinée, steak frites, roast chicken with chips.
- Desserts: the canon of French patisserie — riz au lait, baba au rhum, pain perdu, île flottante, mousse au chocolat, crème brûlée, profiteroles.
The delight lies in the abundance. A table of four can order half the dessert menu without risking financial catastrophe — the true luxury of a bouillon.
Why go?
Because bouillons are loud, generous, and joyful. Because they remind you that good food doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated. And because there’s something deeply Parisian about clinking glasses in a crowded dining hall where, 150 years ago, the city’s market workers once did the same.