Sitting on my high stool, I watched Hugo Desnoyer cutting my steak. Applied, stretched. In The Fanal blue, Colette wrote: “A butcher cutting, edge, pruning, tying, is a dancer, a mime.” Desnoyer adds: “We operate in the same manner as a pianist. The attack of a song is done in a time of restraint, and of great concentration. It is the whole body that is worn in front, weighs, and decides. The shoulder gives an impulse to the arm for a clean cut.” It is said that the cup is ice.
When, between two clients, the aesthete Hugo Desnoyer explains to you the nobility of his profession, it is said that you can push the door of his establishment with confidence. For a long time, it identified the producers who raise their cows, “give them space, grass, time, who end up with good grains”. It proclaims: “the beast must not be stressed, if not her flesh drown acidity. I only work with family-owned slaughterhouses: it takes its time. I demand that at no time labête not to worry. To relax, I request that we put the classical music.”
Hugo Desnoyer has had the good idea to install a few tables in a corner of his butcher’s shop of the Sixteenth century. Over lunch, we witness the ballet of the customers. Desnoyer is at his work station. He cut, watching, said hello, thank you. Occurs when one asks for the boss. A spectacle of everyday life. Side restaurant, a friendly staff, smiling, and joyful. We order a soup, an egg mayo, a laminated ham/cheese, foie gras. Then, a flank steak, a beef filet, a ribeye, a side of beef (meat rassies for 2 to 3 weeks). Or a carpaccio of veal, veal liver, veal sweetbreads, slice of leg of lamb, etc, Cheeses, desserts of the day and the wines well chosen.
I go back to my steak from the start, carved with love by the butcher, the star and cooked beautifully blue: a glare. The star, this is not Desnoyer, it is his meat.
Hugo Desnoyer, 28, rue du Docteur-Blanche, Paris Xvi (01.46.47.83.00). Card: about 50 € (3 courses, without drinks). Closed: Sunday and Monday. Open only at lunch.