A Parisian Bistro in Geneva: L’Odéon

Travel author and chef Anthony Bourdain evokes ground rules when dining out, two of which I also adhere by:

1. Never eat in a restaurant in which the restroom is disgusting (a restroom should be relatively easy to clean, so can you even imagine the refrigerator)?
2. A long menu list should raise a red flag. More options mean that exotic, hard to find meat and fish may have been sitting in a freezer for a long while. Slimmer menu means fresher meals.

I was pleased upon finding that the Brasserie Odéon’s selection was kept to a minimum – keeping the options to the essentials: frog legs, snails, and sardines.

Geneva was sweltering under a historic June heatwave—36°C without air conditioning in a country famously reluctant to embrace it. Our apartment felt warmer than the street, making dinner on a shaded terrace less of a luxury than a survival strategy.

Walking outside felt like stepping on Mars, the heat burning through my thin strands of hair. The more my pale skin sizzles like bacon on a frying pan, the more I make peace with the fact that I will never truly be a summer girly, counting down the days until I can throw on a knit sweater, jump in rain puddles, and watch reruns of The Gilmore Girls.

Empty due to hot air, I nevertheless took a peek inside L’Odéon’s interiors, much like a traditional Parisian bistro. Romantic touches included wine bottles with wax candles oozing on the glass, dried flowers and gold rimmed mirrors strung on deep emerald painted walls. A side room had a vintage bottle of Chartreuse propped near an old piano and an acoustic guitar. A perfect setting for old souls wanting to escape to Belle Epoque Paris.

The World Cup France-Norway match was to start in one hour – a perfect excuse to eat traditional French cuisine. We ordered two glasses of rose, requesting ice cubes, transforming a normal glass of wine into a piscine, or “swimming pool”. The concept is often met with scoffs and rolled eyes from wine connoisseurs, however even piscines are permitted when temperatures reach a certain level of discomfort.  

To start: a can of salty sardines on olive oil slathered bread – the fastest way to my heart (I may even go as far as to kiss your feet if artichokes, olives, or capers are involved). There is something about sardines that makes me think of the Italian coast (are they even Italian?), or an excursion on a boat wearing nautical stripes, pretending to knot rope when I’ve never in fact have even been sailing in my life.

“Can we eat the skin?” my husband wearily asked the waiter.

“None of our customers have died yet,” he replied.

As we bit into the crunchy bread, fingers greased with olive oil, I overheard bits and pieces of conversations surrounding us: all in French. Another sure sign of l’Odeon’s appeal: it seems to have guarded its reputation as just a really great neighborhood restaurant – not yet victim to an overflow of tourists such as La Brasserie Lipp. L’Odéon is small enough that you can hear yourself think and comfortably discuss with your date.

The waiters carried silver-covered cloches while wearing crisp white button-down shirts, much like those in a traditional Parisian bistro. I overhear a server share that the director is cool, because she allows staff to choose their own shirt materials such as linen in the summer heat.

“L’appétit vient en mangeant,” Laurent laughed as our second course arrived. I ordered perch filets served with truffle-coated allumettes—thin fries whose name literally means “matchsticks.” For Monsieur, a crispy cordon-bleu, piled high with jam, chicken and cheese. My dinner choice was easy once hearing the magic words “fresh from the lake”. Strangely enough, perch from the nearby lake is a rare commodity, often being imported from Estonia. Lac Leman perch is often larger…and perhaps it’s purely psychological, but to me they taste noticeably better.

Laurent enjoyed his cordon bleu, but the true star of the show was the side of mashed potatoes. The creamy dish with hints of garlic stayed with him, even after the meal, going so far as to find the chef and ask him himself why his potatoes are so much creamer and richer in taste than what we’ve made at home.

The secret? 250 grams of butter for 500 grams of potatoes.

Feeling pleasantly full, we finished our meal with two iced coffees, like a piscine, the concept is sort of blasphemy in French restaurants, but social codes were lifted given the exceptional heatwave.

By the time we left, the terrace had filled with locals still lingering over glasses of wine. L’Odéon has earned a spot on my list of Geneva favorites, perhaps because it doesn’t need to try to impress. We’ll happily return when the leaves turn gold, curious to see what a new season brings to its menu.

Address: Bd de Saint-Georges 60, 1205 Genève  |  Website: L’Odéon Genève