Sunday Brunch at Chez Casimir (not the Pointe De Grouin) in the 10th: an Unexpected Journey to Alice's Wonderland

5.6 Chez Casimir, 6 rue de Belzunce in the 10th, 01.48.78.28.80, closed Saturday and Sunday nights (Metro: Gare du Nord) is a place I've been meaning to return to on weekends for brunch - but we'll come to that later.

Back-Story: The Pointe de Grouin, 8, rue de Belzunce, no telephone, no reservations, open 7/7, has been calling to me since it opened as Thierry Breton's third place in almost as many meters.  Since I couldn't call, couldn't reserve, I told my two buddies "Show up at noon sharp so we can get a seat."  "Yessir" they responded.  And so it was.  But when I arrived there was a strange crowd in front and when we muscled our way in the responsible said "Sorry we're complet."  "Complet, complet or just complet for a while?" "Complet, complet! There's a private function all day"  Ah yie yie.  Friend 1 says "What's Plan B?" "Ah yie yie, I have no idea" say I.  I'm walking down the street, weeping softly, thinking madly, scheming wildly - "I've got it, brunch at Chez Casimir, I read somewhere it's a real French spread not your Amurican mimosa/eggs benedict/crappy biscuits."  Friend #2 approaches the same guy who turned us away from #6, "OK, that round table in the corner with the uncomfortable shaky stools, in the freezing sun, but you gotta be gone by 1:30 PM."  "OK."

Friend #1 (this is not all in sequence) says "I hate buffets."  Friend #2 says "Come on, John, let's go."  Me, I go to barman and say "Wine, wine, we need wine after our trauma."  "Go by the kitchen Sir, get a bottle and we'll open it."  Hummmm, go by the kitchen, no sign of anything but tired bottles of aperos, but then - guy opens door to wine chiller, turns on light and there I am, all to myself."  Cool.  Then we pile plates with (I'll only gave memorable dishes): really tasty fish, nice bulots and mayo, good potato salad, over-the-top lentils and incredible cucumber slices.  After a while, lox on bread and eggs appear, then a really really good brandade, and a glass of warm leek soup that would put my mother to shame. 

Finally some cheese, some cookies and strawberries and cream, oh my.  The bill with a bottle of red and two glasses of white, plus one coffee but no bottled water, was 76.32 E a couple.

Go?  Well, I still want to try the Pointe de Grouin, but if you're in a squeeze on a weekend, you can do worse than this most French, most foodish, most friendly brunch.  Why the reference to Lewis Carroll?  Well, remember the Mad Hatter's table?  This place at high noon sorta resembled a bunch of mercury-addled Hatters with the March Hare, Dormouse or Alice thrown in for good measure.  Pure Boboland pleasure.