Bouillon Chartier, 7 rue Faubourg Montmartre

Effortless fine dining in Paris is one of the Great French Myths. It’s up there with ubiquitous stripy jumpers, berets and the romantic notion that Provence is Paradise.

In truth, packed McDonalds and heaving Starbucks are easier to come by than truly decent places to eat in the capital.

But when it’s good, it’s bloody brilliant.

At Chartier, they don’t care if you’re a tourist, a local, eating alone or in a group of 10, rich or poor, friendly or terse, articulate or completely gibbering insane. I went on a recommendation, as I hope you will, and I was eating alone. Despite the many empty tables (it was getting on 3pm), they sat me opposite another guy also on his own. Not to everyone’s taste perhaps, not really to my taste, but here it just seemed like the right thing to do.

Now the place itself is marvellous. It opened as a workers’ canteen in 1896 and shows no sign of really changing. The entrance is just off the busy rue faubourg montmartre in a little courtyard. The food is brasserie basic and pretty unremarkable but a half-bottle of decent house red at 2 euros 60 actually made me laugh out loud.

It may have become a sort-of tourist trap but the waiters, most of whom must have been there since it opened, don’t seem to have noticed. It wouldn’t want to change for the world, and the day it’s a Starbucks is a black day for us all.