Paris Bar on Kantstraße is the West Berlin address where food plays second fiddle and the room itself is the show.
French brasserie classics on solid ground, thin crisp fries on the side — the menu holds the place together, but nobody comes for the menu alone. People come because painters, actors and fashion faces meet here, hanging the walls with their own paintings until the room reads more gallery than restaurant. At the bar, someone in black with a cigar; in the dining room, scene regulars next to Charlottenburg locals. Old-West-Berlin glamour without posing — an institution Berlin's dining memory cannot do without.
