Comment: My search for a jambon beurre in Paris led me to the best sandwich in LA

We have a great croissant in Los Angeles. The baguettes at République and Clark Street Bakery are top-notch. Frits? There are too many local favorites to count. But when a counter full of wine, good mustard, and all kinds of cured meats that smell like feet is impossibly thin? Paris is the place to be.

During a recent trip, I was looking for the perfect jambon beurre, a wonderful French sandwich of ham and butter on a baguette. This is what you can find in almost every bakery in Paris, behind all the charcuterie counters and in the café in your terminal at the airport. But when I did a quick search for the best jambon beaver online, the same shop dominated the results. An online publication went so far as to claim that the Jambon Bever from Le Petit Vendôme was “the best sandwich in the world,” prompting dozens of influencers to visit the restaurant and proclaim it as such.

The best sandwich in the world? I am no stranger to making such absurd claims in this column. I have inspired readers to the best grilled cheese in the world. I encourage them to travel to Santa Ana for great food. I stand by these outrageous ads. But I suspected that this jambon beurre in Paris was the best sandwich in the world. I also couldn’t resist a visit to see for myself.

But first, I took a recommendation from a reliable source.

Outside the Caractère de Cochon in Paris.

(Jane Harris/Los Angeles Times)

On my first morning in Paris, I wandered from the Latin Quarter to Le Marais in search of the character de cochon. Betty Hallock, deputy food editor of the Los Angeles Times, recommended the small shop, claiming that it was actually home to the best jamon bever in Paris. Halloak tastes innocent. And she is never one to exaggerate a proposal.

The shop is located in a plum-colored building in the 3rd district of Marais. The lady inside was already helping a couple when I arrived, and kindly asked me to wait outside. The space is the size of a walk-in closet, and only one party is allowed at a time.

Baskets of saucissons hang from the ceiling and wine bottles line the walls. A man works a shiny metal meat slicer behind the counter.

The first question a woman asks is, do I want a sandwich? Then he directs me to a small refrigerator with tall glass doors, and asks me to choose my ham. There is a choice of jambon de Paris (boiled ham) and cured French ham, with meat rounds in every shade of pink. They are plain or filled with things like garlic or rosemary. I chose the simple Parisian jamon, then asked her to choose the ham for the second sandwich. He points to a deep black cured ham and says simply, “That’s it.”

A ham and butter sandwich from Caracter de Cochon in Paris.

(Jane Harris/Los Angeles Times)

Butter? of course. Then he asks me to wait outside while the sandwiches are assembled, and help the next customers.

After about three minutes on the street, she came out of the store and handed me my sandwich.

The baguette gives a satisfying crunch, then the butter melts into my mouth. There is a great rush of salt and cream, milk, some grass but mostly mild. Then the funk of cured ham floods my senses, fat and strong like a forgotten gym sock. Everything works in harmony, intoxicatingly simple and balanced. This is without a doubt one of the best sandwiches I have ever eaten. Three ingredients. And it costs about $16.

The Paris jambon is like the sandwich I imagined, the ham is soft, delicate and almost juicy. Both sandwiches are generously filled with ham and butter.

Surely, nothing is better than that.

The next day, I arrived at Le Petit Vendôme to find a line of 25 people stretching for a block. Behind me is a party of four from Florida. They read online that it was the best sandwich in the world. In front are tourists from Germany. They read the same.

A jamon bivre sandwich from Le Petit Vendome in Paris.

(Jane Harris/Los Angeles Times)

Le Petit Vendome is a full-service restaurant with a classic bistro menu in addition to sandwiches. While there is enough seating in the restaurant’s courtyard, they do not allow customers to order sandwiches at the tables. Even if you order a full meal. If you want to try the “best sandwich in the world”, you will have to wait.

After about an hour, we get to the front of the line. There is a woman who both takes orders and makes sandwiches. She is kind and patient with anyone who asks questions at her window in a language that is not her own.

We order one sandwich with jambon de Paris and another with saucisson.

The baguette is fresh, soft and chewy, but there is no crack or crunch in the crust. Ham is cut into substantial pieces with a firm, meaty texture. Although there is plenty of butter, the ham, and the whole sandwich, all need salt. Absent was the mind-boggling trifecta of flavors and textures we experienced yesterday.

It’s a sandwich I would eat again, but I regretted the hour we spent in line.

If you want a Caractère de Couch sandwich, you need to fly to Paris. But with a few ingredients sourced from shops and restaurants around Los Angeles, you can make something similar. First, you will need a good budget. Clark Street Bakery and Republic Restaurant are my favorites. They are crispy and airy with just the right amount of chew. Clark Street also makes its Jambon Beaver with Dijon mustard and cornichons.

Jambon Beaver Sandwich from Clark Street Bakery in Los Angeles.

(Jane Harris/Los Angeles Times)

For butter and ham, Beverly Hills Cheese Shop has a variety of French butter and ham. Ask for the best French butter at the store and you’ll be presented with a small boulder of border salted butter. I took half a pound from home to make some sandwiches and eat them with radishes for the rest of the week.

The shop carries both boiled and cured hams from France, and they are happy to give you a taste to help you decide. Kindly request that they cut it to pieces.

Brush both sides of your baguette with a generous amount of butter. Think of butter as an ingredient rather than a condiment. You want to be able to squeeze the butter into every bite. Then layer on a few slices of ham, but not so much that it overpowers the bread or butter. The key to this sandwich is balance, and each ingredient shines in harmony.

A jambon beaver sandwich made with a baguette from Clark Street Bakery and butter and ham from Beverly Hills Cheese Shop.

(Jane Harris/Los Angeles Times)

There you have it. The best sandwich in the world, in your kitchen.