Mariage Freres From ThinkParis

Founded in 1854, this famous establishment is to tea in Paris what Berthillon is to ice cream. A fragrant wave of dozens of different teas strikes you as soon as you step into this atmospheric establishment located in a tiny side street in the Marais. Passing a quaint cashier's booth, you come first to a shop where a vast selection of the finest quality teas is for sale from tin drums that line the wooden counters. (100 gms of an excellent tea such as lapsang imperial goes for 35F.) Also on sale are food items jams, chocolates and candies all flavored with tea, as are all the dishes served in the back room restaurant/salon de thé, which has a colonial air thanks to the potted palms, rattan flooring and linen-clad waiters. The à la carte menu includes dishes such as an extraordinary fillet of duck with a smoked tea sauce served with polenta and girolles mushrooms (90F). Of course afternoon tea is not neglected and is served between 3-6:30pm. You can opt for an assortment of fine sandwiches, a mini croque-monsieur, cake and tea for 125F. Individual cakes such as madeleines, superb financiers, scones and muffins go for 40F and a slice of one of the offerings on the delectable "colonial trolley" costs 44F. There is also an upstairs tea museum open on demand, and a tea cellar, which is closed to the public.
Mariage Freres, 30 rue du Bourg-Tibourg, 75004 Paris, France, Tel. 01.42.72.28.11 Open daily.

The Irish Eyes -- Irish-European Cultural Magazine

Winter in Paris is weird. When the sun shines and you are in its path you are warm and pleasant. When you get in the shade, the cold goes straight to your bones and no amount of layering can protect you. I have tried down jackets, thermolactyl underwear, silk socks, the insulated boots worn by huge lumberjacks, to no avail. The dampness goes through all the layers and stays with you.

The only cure is heat from within, but too much whiskey makes me drunk and too much coffee makes me shake. I have fond memories of orange pekoe tea and date-nut bars by a roar-ing fire with my grandmother while icy winds shook the rafters. So off we go in search of a good cup of tea.

Our first stop is Toraya, a Japanese tea house on the rue St. Florentin. The original Toraya was a pastry shop in Japan in the 7th century which provided pastry to the Imperial family. Today there are 80 of them in Japan and they recently opened in New York City. Wood panelling and beige and orange armchairs set a '70s tone to this establishment, which looks more like an airport lounge than a tea house. But this is only my gaijin* point of view.

The specialities here are Japanese teas and azuki bean cakes. The atmosphere is quite serene, there is no smoking and the only sound you hear is a tape of birds chirping. I chose a frothy green tea (Macha) which is served in a large ceramic bowl and frankly tastes like bitter old aquarium water, not that I have ever taken a mouthful of aquarium water.

My Japanese friend tells me that it is an acquired taste. He must be right. He and my wife order Seichan which is also green tea but to me looks yellow. The azuki bean cakes are beautiful. There are several different types and they are presented on a black lacquer tray with a helpful explan-ation of each type of cake. They are made of red bean paste envelop-ing white bean paste or white bean paste enveloping red bean paste. None of them, however, are red or white. You have to eat them with a small sharpened stick which takes some getting used to and makes huge bites impossible.

Ladurée on the rue Royale opened in 1862 as a boulangerie and in 1890 as a tea house. They recently opened a branch on the Champs-Elysées, but I was advised to go to the original. Ladurée sells pastries to go and there is always a crowd outside looking through the window at the rich concoctions of the day. Inside we wait quite a while to be seated. Once seated, however, the waitress scowls at us because we weren't able to read the 10-page menu and make up our minds in less than 12.57 seconds. The staff at Ladurée has obviously been trained at the "You are lucky we will take your money" school of French service. The decor is belle époque: verdigris and gold with marble-topped tables and frescos on the ceiling. The clientele consists mostly of older ladies with tiny yapping dogs dressed in sweaters; wealthy tourists with shopping bags; and young BCBG parents wrapped in Hermès scarves, telling their children to sit straight, don't play with your food, leave the dog alone, etc. The combination of dogs, shopping bags, children and tiny tables do not make for a relaxing experience.

We order tea and the speciality of the house, macaron au citron. The macaron is perfect. The meringue is baked just enough to be crunchy without the usual rip-out-your-dental-fillings centre. Unfortunately, smoking is allowed at Ladurée and it is virtually impossible to appreciate the delicate aroma wafting from my cup of Darjeeling.

No discussion of Parisian tea houses would be complete without Mariage Frères. This venerable institution on rue du Bourg Tibourg is the grandaddy of tea houses. Mariage Frères was founded in 1854 by M. Mariage and today has two outlets in Paris and five outlets in Japan. We enter and are immediately enveloped in the heady aroma of 450 different teas being dispensed in the beautiful wood-panelled boutique before the duplex salon de thé. Tea aficionados can buy every possible type of tea, tea- pot, tea strainer, tea book and tea utensil. The shoppers here are as serious as an ARTE modern dance documentary. I feel like I have invaded a secret world of experts in the midst of a private ceremony.

We push our way to the back and ask for a table for two. There are several tables of four available but we are escorted to a table for two next to the rest room. I protest and am told that the other tables are reserved for parties of four. While perusing the menu which features 450 different teas, a couple is seated at one of the tables for four. What are we, chopped liver? The other couple is not especially well dressed or better dressed than we are. We order tea and pass on the tea-flavoured pastries.

I have been told brunch here is excellent but you'd better reserve. The tea is excellent. It tastes very much like.... tea. Prices for a pot of tea, about half a litre, range from 30-70 francs. This a relatively good deal, considering that at any café in Paris you get two cups for about 18 francs. The waiters have the kind of at-ittude you expect at a nightclub: if they smiled their faces would probably split into two.

I was going to continue on to a few other tea houses, but, except for Toraya, I find that the service is just too overwhelmingly bad in these establishments. There must be some chemical in tea that makes people unpleasant after long periods of exposure to it. I dec-ide not to exercise any more masochistic tendencies and retire to my apartment where I can take my shoes off, brew some supermarket tea, throw an Irish mohair blanket over my lap and read a good book, all for about two francs. No wonder the early American colonists threw cases of the stuff into Boston Harbour; who needs the attitude?

*gaijin = Westerner

Marc Cosnard Des Closets