Tea, in Paris, is taken seriously by a small number of houses and approached with mild interest by everyone else. Mariage Frères belongs to the first group, and has done since 1854 — long enough that the rest of the city has either fallen in line or stopped pretending to compete.
Go for the smell of the shop before anything else. Black tins, two storeys of them, a hundred and seventy years of buying habits codified into a wall. Buy one canister of something you would never otherwise drink, and a second of something you already know. The first is the souvenir. The second is the household supply.
A tea house in the Marais with more than seven hundred teas on offer, a small museum on the upper floor, and a tea-room restaurant serving lunch and afternoon tea.
Go for the smell of the shop before anything else. Black tins, two storeys of them, a hundred and seventy years of buying habits codified into a wall. Buy one canister of something you would never otherwise drink, and a second of something you already know. The first is the souvenir. The second is the household supply.
An hour, properly spent, with something to take home that will outlast the trip.
Saturdays are crowded. Go on a weekday morning if the goal is to actually taste anything.
The lunch room is calmer than the shop floor; book a table if a longer visit is the plan.