Le Journal d'un Boutiquier, 8 mars

Bienvenue dans le Journal d'un Boutiquier!

For the first time in over three hundred weekly columns, this is an international diary entry, coming to you directly from Paris. And when I say Paris, I mean Paris, France, as our American friends put it, presumably to distinguish it from Paris, Texas. I have also visited that Paris, and it would not be easy to confuse the two.. To be fair, the Texan Paris does have an Eiffel Tower, or at least a 20-metre-high replica of the 300-metre original. There’s a giant red cowboy hat balanced on top of it, a finishing touch which Gustave Eiffel somehow forgot to bestow on his version. Take that, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys!

If you think that eating cheese is the main purpose of my trip here, you’d be half right. There’s also tasting wine. Since Kirkness & Gorie was founded, its range of stock has happily mixed the best of local produce with exciting imported goods from across Europe. In the 19th century, adverts referred to the shop as an “Italian warehouseman,” a phrase equivalent to “deli” today, indicating that fancy continental goods were a speciality. Italian food still graces our shelves – pasta, pesto, olive oil – but when it comes to wine and cheese, France is our most popular country of origin.

Talking to shopkeepers here, as I take every opportunity to do, I’m always asked, “Do you have any French cheese and wine in Keerkness et Gorie?” They’re astounded to hear that we regularly stock two dozen French cheeses and two hundred French wines. Of course we do. In my view, France has higher quality across a greater variety of cheese and wine than any other country. Yes, fantastic wines are made all around the world, and there are unique, unbeatable cheeses from every part of Europe, including Orkney. But for excellence in every style, nowhere comes close to France. So every day here is an opportunity to try something new, something that might eventually find its way to the shelves and fridges of K&G.

Just last night, for instance, I tried a cheese I’d never heard of before: Trappe Échourgnac, made by a community of nuns in an isolated part of central France. It’s a hard cow’s milk cheese, with a unique flavouring: walnut juice. It was unusual and delicious, and I’d love to stock it in our fridge. But whether I can find anyone who imports it into the UK, I don’t know. This kind of trip is not about making purchases, but collecting ideas and inspirations. The boring but essential practicalities will be investigated later.

On the wine front, there have been no big discoveries so far. I thought I’d made one last night at a wine bar in the Canal Saint-Martin area. The young server wore a checked bandana round his glossy-maned head, and stroked a well-trimmed goatee while considering his recommendations. He reminded me of Puss in Boots from Shrek. One of his suggestions was for an obscure white wine he said he’d only come across recently. The grape was Menetou, he purred, and it had a refreshing, almost saline character. That’s a new one on me, I thought. I know Menetou-Salon, a little-known area in the Loire Valley near Sancerre, which produces excellent, zingy Sauvignon Blancs, but I’d never come across a grape called Menetou. A sip confirmed the wine was indeed fresh and crisp, with a distinct grapefruit flavour. Very like a Loire Valley Sauvignon, in fact. I bought a glass and sat back to savour it, meanwhile reading the label on the bottle that the assistant had helpfully left for me: “Menetou-Salon, Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée. Vin de Loire. Issu de Sauvignon Blanc.”

Zut alors. As he explained, he’d recently settled in Paris, having been brought up in Lebanon, so I daresay has more important things to worry about at the moment, what with bombs and missiles raining down on his homeland.

“L'Angleterre est une nation de boutiquiers,” said Napoleon, which is usually taken as a great insult: Britian is a nation of small-minded, un-warlike shopkeepers. Late in his life, while in exile on St Helena, Napoleon expanded on his intention: “I meant that you were a nation of merchants, and that all your great riches, and your grand resources arose from commerce, which is true. What else constitutes the riches of England? It is not extent of territory, or a numerous population. It is not mines of gold, silver, or diamonds. Moreover, no man of sense ought to be ashamed of being called a shopkeeper.”

Visiting small shops and other independent businesses across the great city of Paris has brought many interesting conversations, insights into the challenges and opportunities of making a living here, and a thousand delicious mouthfuls of wine, cheese and other food.

Vive les boutiquiers!

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 12th March 2026. A new diary appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations, and occasional small corrections or additions.