Ariana R.
Yelp
La Recyclerie is one of those places I thought I liked, and if I'd stuck to their gluten-free desserts and cheap cocktails, things might have stayed that way. The DIY workshops are creative and fun, with partners like Atelier de la Souris Verte, Le Triporteur and Sophrologie. Gare Ornano makes a dreamy setting for brocantes and classic film screenings (E.T., for example), and their gluten-free rhubarb crumble is melt-in-your-mouth delicious. With that, I've exhausted all the nice things I have to say about this forsaken place. I swear I got food poisoning from their nasty kitchen.
I visited after a bike ride to Puces aux Clignancourt; the sign said La Recyclerie opens at noon, and I stopped at the Velib station at 12:21. Only the staff hadn't opened the doors. They milled around, apparently aimlessly, as a lengthy line formed outside. One left for the tabac and locked the door behind him without so much as a glance towards the crowd of waiting customers. The manager came up around 12:30 and banged on the door, screaming for his employees to open up. When we finally made it inside, no one was behind the bar. No one would seat us. The patrons looked about, lost, until my husband and I just sat down at a picnic table.
The manager frantically restored some semblance of order, and four bartenders materialized, though only one decided to work that day. She was super nice; I felt bad for her because her boyfriend, who was not a La Recyclerie employee, who was not an employee of any company, anywhere, hung around drinking free beers all day.
When we finally placed our orders- which I thought would never happen, because the employees kept erasing things I wanted to order, telling me it wasn't available that day, and then writing the exact same menu item over again under that day's menu- the "fresh-pressed juice" they were charging 5 euro per cup for turned out to be a brand-spanking new bottle from Carrefour costing 3 euro per liter. The food took a long time, too, but we didn't mind until we got a look at it and realized they just spooned cat and rabbit food onto metal trays before buzzing us to come pick it up. Literally, my cats would not touch anything from La Recyclerie, and they eat pigeon droppings off our balcony.
Let's not talk about what happens when it's time to leave. No, let's: La Recyclerie makes you clean up after yourself. They shovel garbage unfit for animals onto trash unfit for polite homes, and they don't have the decency to bring it to you, nor put it back into the poubelle from whence it came. They don't compost, and the guy in the kitchen yelled at me! Have I mentioned that La Recyclerie wasn't letting anybody use the bathroom that day? We had to go to Square Clignancourt to get my blood pressure down.
The worst part is, I think we're going to go back. It's not the grossest meal I've ever had in Paris, and the prices are relatively reasonable. La Recyclerie gets 3 of 4 stars for atmosphere and 2 stars for food (the gluten-free desserts saved it). Go for a camion workshop, pop in for tea on your way to the flea market- but please, eat somewhere... anywhere... else.