I knew the Black woman sitting alone at a window table at L’Arrêt in Paris was American by her posture. She was leaning into the table by her elbow, her chin propped up by her wrist. There was another American woman in the back of the restaurant tucked into a corner seat. Her waist-length knotless braids gave her away.
I also arrived solo, early for my 6 p.m. reservation, anxious to try the charming new bistro on a corner of the 7th arrondissement by U.S. chef Mashama Bailey. Over roasted chicken tartine, oysters, and mac and cheese, I watched the restaurant come alive and turn into what felt like an American meetup.
Business partners and expats from New York, Raleigh, and Boston ordered Cajun chicken, grilled halibut, and cornbread. Savannah, Georgia, sat next to me. Florida was near the bar. The chatter came with accents. A Baltimore drawl, nasal New Jersey vowels, and the sharply clipped -ing from the upper Great Lakes. (Was that Illinois or Ohio?)
As more diners realized they were surrounded by fellow Americans, they put down their translation apps and the servers surrendered to English. Several tables swapped stories about what brought us to Paris. Work, holidays, school, business, love. “Have you been to [Bailey’s Savannah restaurant] The Grey?” was always the next question.
The college students on a semester abroad from Atlanta and Los Angeles arrived sporting Alpha Kappa Alpha and Delta Sigma Theta gear. They had read about Bailey’s restaurant in a newspaper and were thrilled to spend their limited budget splitting bites of oxtails.
“They’re all from Philly,” Bailey said, pointing to the six Black women dining at L’Arrêt after attending a book signing by author Jeannine Cook, the founder of Harriett’s Book Shop, named for Harriet Tubman, which specializes in books by and about Black women. Cook and I had admired each other’s work from afar. We met for the first time, serendipitously, at Bailey’s restaurant on this corner in Paris.
By 8 p.m., the restaurant was filled with the laughter and exuberance found at cookouts and family reunions. Sometimes the keke-ing was coming from Bailey herself as she offered a kind of camaraderie that is rare in a city where a head nod and “bonsoir” are often the extent of most exchanges between foreign strangers. She was creating only-in-Paris magic that made everyone stay for cheese plates, conversation, and another glass of wine.
Throughout pop culture, American women are taught to hold Paris in high regard for its charm and romance. But for many Black women, the City of Light is a beacon of ease, comfort, and creativity. For generations, artists, authors and activists from Josephine Baker to Aretha Franklin, and scores of aunts and sisters have visited Paris to experience this version of American beauty and exceptionalism. With L’Arrêt, Bailey is following in their footsteps.
“Paris represents freedom, joy, and Black migration at its finest,” said Bailey who was raised in New York, moved back to her ancestral home of Savannah in 2014 to open The Grey, and now lives in Paris.
“I remember growing up as a child and listening to different stories about free-thinking Black people, and they all lived and worked and had an experience in Paris. When this opportunity came up for [business partner Johno Morisano] and me to open up in Paris, it felt like something that we couldn't pass up, especially given the history of Black American folks in the city.”
Building L’Arrêt, which opened in September 2025, was a years-long process for Bailey and Morisano. The outpost of The Grey was conceived as a classic French bistro, a callback to Bailey’s days in culinary school and as young chef in Paris. It was supposed to be a neighborhood restaurant, exemplifying its name, The Stop, where locals would order a nice burger, frites, and peut être, an apéro.
While you can order a Grey Market burger and a croque monsieur for lunch, dinner at L’Arrêt has evolved into a uniquely American dining experience, where grilled lamb chops, hoppin’ john, and other cultural dishes offer a lens into African American foodways. Her greens and shrimp toast are special treats for travelers, who have not experienced Port City Southern cooking.
“It's so exciting to serve Americans in Paris. Looking out into the dining room and seeing Black men, Black women, Black families, people from Savannah, all different nationalities,” she said. “It’s an honor that people are finding a little rest during their vacation or during their stay in Paris or Europe to spend their time with us.”
But with so many Americans visiting, it means accommodations can be a challenge.
“We can only seat about 40 to 45 people at a time,” Bailey said.
Finding ingredients can be a challenge, too. Grits, she said, have to shipped from Savannah.
“I'm still looking for a Paris source for cornmeal and heritage peas. And I would like to introduce rice at some point,” Bailey said. “So we have to manage expectations while trying to meet demand.” But she takes it in stride. "We're just gonna be ourselves and utilize the local ingredients around us. Ultimately, that’s what Southern, Black, African American cooking is. It’s utilizing what you have and making something out of nothing. As long as it's cooked with love and it's nurtured, it's gonna resonate.”
Bailey also receives a legion of guests from Paris and other parts of France. Despite her culinary training, she hasn’t felt compelled to make her dishes more classically French. Instead, she brought in culinary historian Dr. Jessica B. Harris to train her staff on African American cooking and culture. Although the strong flavors have been adjustment for some curious Parisians neighbors, Bailey doesn't shy away from the bold curry, allspice, and garlic that gives her cooking its power.
On the night I visited, some of the Americans agreed the macaroni and cheese needed just a little spark to brighten the Comté oozing over the elbow pasta. Rather than offer a pricey quenelle of caviar to stand in for salt and paprika or harissa, Bailey gave the Americans what they wanted: hot sauce.