Paris

Every serious cook in the world has an opinion about Paris, and most of them formed it at a counter here. The grand houses, Le Cinq at the George V, Arpège with Alain Passard’s vegetable gardens, Plénitude at the Cheval Blanc, Kei Kobayashi’s Japanese-French precision, define the top of the craft. The Jules Verne puts dinner on the Eiffel Tower, and Le Grand Véfour has been serving under gilded ceilings since the eighteenth century.

The other Paris eats at Septime, at wine bars in the 11th, at the Relais de l’Entrecôte where the only question is how you want your steak, and at Brasserie Lipp where the waiters have outlived governments. Bistronomy, the movement that took starred technique into small rooms with short menus, was born here and still sets the tone.

Paris is expensive, formal by German standards and unforgiving about time. Book the great houses two months ahead, lunch is the affordable door, and never confuse a café with a restaurant when it comes to service charge: it is included, and a few coins on the table are enough.