korcarz
29 Rue des Rosiers, 75004 Paris, France
Click right to take a look around…
There’s no question about it: this establishment corners the market on “establish.” Sometimes, that means taking responsibility. Other times, that means taking for granted. This typified Jewish setting is an example of the latter. There are two ways to enter, neither particularly defined. If you walk in the side with the bakery case, you have to cross over to the bar, past the soft serve machine and the soft drinks fridge, nearing some tables. There is really no indication of what you should or can do here as two men seem to be working, but their pace is disorderly, at best it’s untailored. As I quietly stood at the invisible threshold, a couple came in and—although seeing me there waiting—pushed on into a table. As they slipped in, the dismal waiter in light blue handed them menus and gestured in welcome. It was like I didn’t exist. Even after securing a place among the inside of a cabinet collection of Jewish scenes—among them a congregation holding a Torah, an Orthodox group, a white dove on the Wailing Wall—the game of obliviousness continues. If you are one person, it’s not a place to consider. Waving away a menu, I ordered. And…they forgot; a poppy roll and an allonge still nowhere in sight after twenty minutes. I flagged down the other guy servicing the place—a seemingly kinder but no less unaware black cap and NIKE sweatshirt unit—and seconds later, it was petit dej’Emily joined by two framed rabbis (one catching your eye on the street, the other in mid-opine) above me. A group of young American girls talked in a volume unsuitable for how small the dining chamber’s first tier is.
“Does anyone need a period pill,” one of them hollered. But they were eight customers, so holler all they want. The whole experience is simply a lot of ruckus and frustration for not enough reward. When I was able to catch cap guy for the bill, I tapped my card, and—wouldn’t you know it—the machine stopped working. The one plus: the chairs were comfortable vinyl, high backs with scrolled fabric. Given how long you’re bound to be bound to this seat, this constructive something is the least they can do.
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Drink: Allongé
Not even a dash of hot water would drown out the shockingly bitter profile of this shot. Taking a clue from the dishware, I would say that they use illy espresso. I wouldn’t be all that surprised. The Le Cimballi is so exhausted that the logo has near been completely worn away. While I didn’t expect a lot, I didn’t expect a difficult drinking experience. My recommendation if you are in dire need of coffee: don’t get it solo and go as sweet on the pastry or post-meal treat as you can.
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Food: Roulé Pavot
I am very picky when it comes to my poppy roll. And, despite looking amazing, this pastry is a heaping dose of dry and tasteless. Its best quality: mass. If I did it over again—which I most certainly won’t—I’d try the strudel au pavot. Maybe, because of the poppy seed density, it would be more moist. It’s the same price, so I’d try my luck on this front.
Price: Roulé Pavot=5€; Allongé=3€
Hours: Sunday–Thursday {9-20}; Friday {8–15}; Saturday {CLOSED}
✓ WIFI*
Extra Notes:
The WIFI works on and off, so don’t rely on it in what is otherwise a connection blackhole.