Cafe Le Chartreux



It crept up on me and came as a bit of a surprise. It was the Café Le Chartreux situated downstairs in our building. It is a small and unprepossessing establishment, a little tatty and worn at the edges.

I didn’t pay much attention as I came and went. Finally I noticed that it was always busy and usually full. The owner/proprietor does not look like a café guy, seems like a CPA with a nice smile when he finds it. He has just the right touch: soft, friendly, and trusting.

The café is open from early morning until 11 pm, unless there is an impromptu party then closing seems negotiable. The breakfast crew starts it off with baguettes, croissants and espresso. Then the moms drop their kids off at the school across the street and come in for a café crème and chat with each other.

The lunch bunch is next and they enjoy a leisurely meal followed by the afternoon café habitués; they stretch and bend the day until the happy hour crowd arrives. The dinner regulars are followed by late night drop-ins. It’s a full day.

The café has a delightful combination of informality and intimacy that is disarming and embracing. Maybe it is because Paris apartments are small and cramped so café life is so important. The French seem to live a more communal life than we Americans. Talking with friends is very important, and the café is a perfect extension of French life. Mary thinks it is a Parisian version of Cheers, where everyone knows your name. I know they are very loyal.

We have begun to stop in for a late dinner when we don’t want to go far. It is the usual French café with the menu written on a blackboard; the owner brings it and leans it against a chair for our convenience. He speaks an odd mixture of French and English with us, tonight he threw in two Spanish words.

He plays music CD’s on a small system, when I inquire about the music he will bring the CD cover to the table. His taste is eclectic and interesting. He knows his stuff, likes blues and jazz a lot.

I like watching his light management touch, one night someone’s 9 year old daughters served our table and swept up later like they were playing grown-up. The café scene is a multi generational one; there are seniors, kids, and middle-agers occupying the same space. In America there would be more age separation.

I always wonder how 12 tatty tables, some 70’s décor best ignored, and old photos of long forgotten French actresses could make such a compelling café atmosphere. Maybe it is the cheeseburger on the menu, but I think it has a lot to do with the owner and a more to do with the people themselves. “Where everyone knows your name.”