Chez Paula

Really good. Everything was fresh. Freshly baked prune tart topped off a really good lunch. The owner lovely.
You can also speak Spanish there if your French is iffy.

Bön, propre, mais portions trop petites.

Small French restaurant, with a very nice host. The food was amazing, but you should expect to take your time to eat. No rush, calm and homey atmosphere. Menu is quite cheap for Paris, but not a huge choice. I would for sure return!

Very good meal, and the service from Paula was outstanding.
You can get by without speaking French, just
Order one of the Plate du Jours. They were 16 €.
Such good food in a quaint little mom and pop place to eat.

Un bon point de chute…
… près du périphérique avec des menus (à 11 et 13 euros) avec entrée, plat et dessert. Le décor reste classique, avec des plats simples comme une blanquette de veau selon l’humeur du jour, convenables avec un très bon rapport qualité/​prix, de plus le service est plutôt rapide. Sinon peut-​être un accueil plus agréable serait un plus (la patronne est un peu sèche), mais cela reste un endroit recommandable à un budget très raisonnable.

Chez Paula was about a block away from my hotel and I passed it every morning and every evening, staring at the menu on the outside. Sizing it up on the inside. I was scared to enter an establishment where my rudimentary French might not have been enough. More so, none of their evening clientele looked like a tourist, and no matter how much I blended in with Paris, no matter how many Parisians stopped me on the street and spoke French to me… I was definitely a tourist.
After my fourth day, I felt a semi-​comfortable, had gathered my bearings and embarrassed myself enough with the Metro employees to face Chez Paula. It was early, about 8pm, Europeans are tres chic and don’t eat dinner until 9pm, there was only me in the dining room and another local who appeared to be friends with the couple who ran the joint. There was one chef and a woman, perhaps his wife, Paula perhaps? They were sitting in the back of the moderately sized restaurant, their feet tapping on the tile floor to the subtle background music. Everyone, including myself, looked startled to see me come in and struggle, «Desole, uhhh je né parle pas francias. Uhhh je voudrais une table uhhh pour un.» The woman gave a nervous smile and seated me near the front, not near them in the back.
The menu was extremely affordable, except what I wanted to try the most, Sole Muniere at 30euros. Instead, I had to try steak au poire with frites, which was a reasonable 9euros. Crudite as a starter, with a lovely vin ordinaire rouge. The chef casually strutted to the kitchen you can partially see from the dining room, the stainless steel appliances and range stove can be seen peeking through the doorway, and he got to work. Another local elder man came in with his paper. He’s apparently another regular, because she didn’t even have to ask what he wanted for an apéritif… she just brought it. Less than 30 minutes later, the woman put down my plate and she went to rejoin the chef and the younger man at the back table. They all watched me. I could feel the burn of anticipation, to see what my reaction was, but I was too excited to care. The tender skirt steak looked deliciously caramelized around the edges and the sauce was luscious. I cut into it and the perfect pinkness shown through, residual juice from the meat co-​mingling with the sauce and creating oxbows for the frites to float in like young blonde boys in inner tubes on the river during the summer. When I bit into it, my face must have made an expression I was unaware of, I was definitely content and turns out, so was the chef, the woman and the man. The chef smiled, put his back to his chair, crossed his leg and they continued with their conversation.
I took my time drinking my wine and reading my book and an hour later, the place started to fill in. I asked for the check, the woman thanked me and apologized for her English with a smile. Really, I should apologize, because after all, «I’m in beautiful Paris and I’m stupid for not learning French.» She replied, «No! It’s all right, we’ll see you tomorrow?»
They did.

Resto de quartier, cuisine traditionnelle, simple et bonne.
Formule midi 11EUR:
1 entrée (parmis 3)
+ 1 plat (parmis 3 dont un poisson)
+ 1 dessert (parmis 3, tous maison)
Paella le vendredi (spécialité de Paula)
Un incontournable quand je suis à Paris!
Mon combo: carottes rapées, filet de lieu noir sauce aux échalottes, tarte au ctiron. What else?!

Véritable institution, clientèle composée de fidèles clients comme de touristes de passage, «Chez Paula «est le rayon de soleil de la rue Letort ! Ouvert depuis 20 ans maintenant, l’établissement se veut familial avec un côté «bonne franquette «séduisant. Les produits viennent du marché, les poissons, viandes et légumes sont également frais, et les pâtisseries maison. En deux mots, c’est simple et bon marché.
Tandis que Paula et sa fille s’occupent de vous, c’est son mari qui tient les fourneaux. Et de quelle manière ! Certes, le restaurant cesse de servir à 21h, mais vous né serez pas déçu ! La carte est constituée de plats de cuisine traditionnelle française. En outré, la paëlla du vendredi est divine… alors, laissez-​vous tenter. Attention, le restaurant ferme ses portes le samedi et le dimanche, et en semaine, une réservation est plus sûre !

resto de quartier simple, pas chers et sympathique. 11EUR la formule entrée plat dessert pour le dejeuner, 13EUR pour le diner.
Venir avant 21h pour le diner.

ambiance familiale, serviettes à carreaux comme chez Mamie, super cuisine traditionnelle pour pas cher !