5.0 Fichon, 98, rue Marcadet in the 18th, 09.70.94.52.14, closed Mondays (Metro: Jules Joffrin) calls itself a "cave a poisons" and that it is. In its opening 3 weeks it has attracted score of locals, adding to the "boboization" as Rubin calls it, of our neighhood - cf the Table d'Eugene, Rallonge, Noun, Sunset and Hardware Societe. It's located in a big space that was cookingware and houseware emporium, where those of us who didn't want to trek to BHV could find stuff we needed. The lunch menu is quite a bargain; 17E for 2 dishes and 20 E for 3.
I arrived quite a bit earlier than my pal, the real food critic, and had a lovely glass of white Cotes de Blaye (3.5E) and he soon entered with his dog, a fluffy Scotty/terrier hybrid I venture. We agreed to share everything; thus starting with unpeeled shrimp and an azuki mayo as well as haddock and herring.
Then we shared plates of squid stuffed with chorizo and other goodies, cod ceviche and a 3-some accompaniment of fresh greens, bouillon and a risotto-like grain that was too coldish to make it interesting.
At some point he asked me how I rate the place and I shrugged and he said "Yah, it's not much, I might come in the evening (see dinner carte above) if I still lived here, but......."
The bill with one bottle and 3 glasses of wine, not great bread (when we're sitting 50 feet from one of the quarter's best bakeries) but superb coffee, was 75.80 E for the couple.
Go? He invented the phrase "It's not urgent" and we applied it again. The name Fichon, we forgot to ask about, but must be a pun on "fish on."
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