Ready to buy these pretty, pretty bannetonsReady to buy these pretty, pretty bannetons
When you're ready to buy, the staff write your order by hand on a paper receiptWhen you're ready to buy, the staff write your order by hand on a paper receipt
Very reminiscent of Julie and JuliaVery reminiscent of Julie and Julia
I'm pretty sure I could have fit in this.I'm pretty sure I could have fit in this.
Everything you could ever need, and then some.Everything you could ever need, and then some.
So much stuff, so little space!So much stuff, so little space!
This banneton was 75 euros. I left it behind.This banneton was 75 euros. I left it behind.
Does this thing come with a license?Does this thing come with a license?
If you ever need a big cone for croquembouche, now you know where to go.If you ever need a big cone for croquembouche, now you know where to go.
E. Dehillerin in ParisE. Dehillerin in Paris
  • Ready to buy these pretty, pretty bannetons
  • When you're ready to buy, the staff write your order by hand on a paper receipt
  • Very reminiscent of Julie and Julia
  • I'm pretty sure I could have fit in this.
  • Everything you could ever need, and then some.
  • So much stuff, so little space!
  • This banneton was 75 euros. I left it behind.
  • Does this thing come with a license?
  • If you ever need a big cone for croquembouche, now you know where to go.
  • E. Dehillerin in Paris

In the fall Charlie and I travelled to Europe, visiting London, Paris, Lyon and the South of France.

At a cooking class I attended in Paris we were each given a coupon to Dehillerin. I hadn’t heard of it before, but soon everyone was talking about how it was so worth the trip just to visit. On our last day in Paris, we did.

Dehillerin is a cooking equipment store in Paris that opened in 1820 and hasn’t changed since. Part of its appeal to foodie tourists is that it was Julia Child’s favourite cooking store. It even appears in Julie and Julia, in the scene where Julia Child is shopping and pulling copper pots down off the walls. That’s unmistakably Dehillerin.

The store is cramped, with wooden shelving from floor to ceiling, and pots, pans and anything you could ever want to cook with in stacks, bins and piles. Most items had no packaging at all.

Thankfully when we were there there weren’t many people in the store. The aisles are tiny, and it’s hard to get around other people. In the creaky, dusty basement there is equipment targeted at restauranteurs, complete with pots that I could fit in.

The staff speak multiple languages, which is very helpful. I knew enough French to ask how much something was, but when Emile figured out that his quick French reply was too quick for my French, he quickly switched to English.

I snagged a couple of nice bannetons, which I was so proud of and gingerly carried by hand for the next two weeks and through our entire trip back across the Atlantic so they wouldn’t get destroyed by the airport baggage handlers.

If you find yourself in Paris, visit Dehillerin. It’s worth the trip.

4 Responses to “A visit to Dehillerin”

  1. Scott
    7 February 2012 at 2:12 pm #

    Look, it’s the anti-Tallulah’s!

  2. CoMo Homestead
    8 February 2012 at 9:14 am #

    Ha! Apparently. I haven’t been there yet, but I’m not expecting much based on your reviews.


Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. […] We spent our time in England and France, including London, Buxton, Canterbury and Paris. We made a similar trip last year, but a lot of the trip ended up going badly. We decided to retrace many of our steps this year and […]

  2. […] starting to feel that way, though. Last year I visited Dehillerin in Paris and bought bannetons. This year I just happened to be in the neighbourhood (no, really), so I stopped by for a few […]

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