How to Save Money Dining Out in France
Get the most bang for buck, the most enjoyment for your Euro with these tips.
Hello there! Before I get to today’s post, I wanted to let you know about a great Live Chat I had with Washington State-based poet and food-writer Jane Wong the other day. She’s coming to my neck of the woods for a poetry festival, but even if you live nowhere near the Midwest, this 30-minute chat is fascinating—she talks about how she grew up as a “restaurant baby” (her term for a child of a restaurateur) and how she feeds her ancestors through her words. Give it a listen!
Live with Wini Moranville
Note that this post is tied to a poetry festival in the Midwest, Jane's discussion of her work will be fascinating for anyone who loves beautiful food writing.
Now, onto today’s post:
How to Save Money When Dining Out in France
After 20 years of spending major chunks of the summer in la belle France—through strong dollar and weak—I’ve come up with a few dining strategies to make your money stretch a little further in restaurants.
As I’m writing, this, the dollar is relatively strong; however, even if you hit France during a weak-dollar stretch, dining out is still so much more reasonably priced than it is in the U.S. A couple reasons for that: The French always include tip and tax in every price listed on the menu; that is, if a croque monsieur is listed on the menu at 10 Euros, that’s what you’ll pay. It’s so refreshing! Also, they don’t stick it to you on the wine, which really adds up here in the U.S.A. Wine is always reasonably priced.
By understanding the basics of dining in France, and boning up on a few tricks for keeping the total bill down, you’ll spend less and enjoy dining more.
Note that multi-course menus often provide better value than ordering à la carte, but if you prefer a lighter meal, order a plat—not an entrée (more on that next). Also note that when you order multi-course meals, the portion sizes are sane. Think you can’t possibly eat four course? Give it a go—you’ll be surprised. French restaurateurs are genius at making you feel better for having dined with them, never worse, no matter how many courses you order.
An “entrée” is not what you might think. In France, an entrée is a first course (akin to what we might call an appetizer). When you consider the word, it makes sense—an entrée being something with which you enter the meal. The main dish is called a “plat” or “plat principal.” If you simply order an entrée, you may get puzzled looks from the waiter or worse, go away hungry (and France is no place to do this).
Most all restaurants post their menus outside their doors, so check them out before you ask to be seated. And read the fine print! Those wonderful 25-euro fixed-price menu options you see posted outside have a habit of disappearing once you sit down inside. This isn’t always a matter of “bait-and-switch” tactics. Sometimes, the fine print below the cheaper menu options (in French only) will say “served only at lunch and exclusive of weekends and holidays.” (Midi seulement, sauf dimanches et jours feriés.)
“Une carafe d’eau, s’il vous plait.” Learning these words will save you some dosh. Tap water is usually chilled, free, and highly drinkable, but you have to know how to ask for it. (Here’s roughly how to say it, by the way: oon carafe dough seal voo play.) Otherwise, if you simply ask for water, waiters might assume you mean bottled water, for which you’ll pay anywhere from two to five Euros. Sometimes it’s worth it, especially if the beautifully minerally Badiot is one of the options. The green-label (original) Badoit is my absolute favorite mineral water in the world, BTW.
A “pichet” of wine—in this case, a quarter of a liter (about 2 glasses). It’s usually inexpensive and highly drinkable. Vin au Pichet (or en Carafe) — If you’re a serious wine lover, you'll probably want to choose a specific bottle from the carte des vins. But if you're a more relaxed sipper, house wines served in pitchers (or carafes) are a great choice—affordable, easygoing, and often local. Un quart (pronounced “un car’) is about two glasses; une demi-carafe is roughly four glasses and will usually see two of you through dinner, especially if you start with an apéritif (which, let’s be honest, you should.)
Prix net/service compris means: net prices, service included. Read: no need to tip. Tipping? You rarely need to tip in French cafés and restaurants. Look for Prix Net on the menu or bill—this means “net prices,” i.e., taxes and service are included. That said, it’s become common to leave small change in cafés (a euro or two), and for exceptional service in a restaurant, up to 5% is a nice gesture. Just note that credit card slips usually don’t have a tip line, so bring a little cash if you plan to leave something extra.
Menu Touristique? Don’t necessarily run from those words. Sometimes, especially in more heavily touristed regions, perfectly good restaurants will post special prix-fixe menu options for tourists. These aren’t meant to snare unaware foreigners. The French are tourists, too (they travel more inside their country than outside of it), and restaurateurs know that not everyone wants to eat five courses every time they sit down for a meal—especially tourists who may be feeling overindulged after a few days. These quicker, less-complex, and less-expensive meals may not be the most memorable of your trip, but sometimes they’ll be just what you want to eat.
Croissant and coffee in a sidewalk cafe is much less expensive than hotel breakfasts, and often much more pleasant too. Breakfast Down the Street! Remember that you’re usually not obligated to have breakfast in your hotel, and that it can cost around $8 to $10 for croissant, bread, coffee, and juice. You’ll do much better down the street at a café or a bakery, where a croissant and a café au lait will cost half as much. Better yet, you’ll soak in the rhythm of village or city life as the neighborhood kicks into gear for the day—something no hotel breakfast room, however charming, can offer.
Tip: If a cafe doesn’t serve croissant—or if they’re out—just bring your own from a nearby bakery. French people do this all the time, and now, so do I. Just make sure the cafe isn’t serving croissant before bringing your own.
And now, my number-one way to save money dining in France
Rent a little apartment where you can do your own cooking. Honestly—it gets you to the “next level” of traveling in France. I’m working on a post about “what to cook in a small French kitchen.” Stay tuned, and be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss this post!
And isn't food (and wine) one of our primary reasons for going to France? In the U.S., seeing "entrée" on a menu for the listing of the main dishes always makes me want leave. In France, the entées are sometimes more inventive and interesting than the plat principals. My wife often orders two entrées and no plat. It is enough food for her and she enjoys the variety. Lunch is a good time to eat out in France. We often do that (usually one a bike rid) and then cook at our rented house in the evening.
Thank you, these are great suggestions!