As someone who grew up in Israel, Israeli kitchen holds a big place in my heart and stomach. In New York, and in London (and Paris, I suppose) it's not the easiest food to find. And when you find a good Israeli run kitchen, you're going to lick your plate clean - promise. I inhale a Miznon pita faster than any other food. It's fresh and it's delicious and it's made with love.
I go to the flea market in St Ouen to look for old cameras and expired film. But it’s also a great place to see all the different walks of life from Paris’ extreme social scene. At the top of the ladder you’ve got the aristo-bourgeois crowd acquiring Louis XV furniture at the indoor antiques markets; the thirty-something bobo set paying way over the odds for mid-century designer chairs and formica tables; the banlieusards from the Neuf Trois getting kitted out with the latest sneakers and hoodies along the rue des Rosières; then at the very bottom you’ve got people trying to scratch a living selling second hand food at the Carré des biffes at Porte Montmartre. It’s an eye opener for sure.