A Literary and Food Tour: Eateries Loved by Writers and Artists
Home / Travel Blog / Blog Details
There exists a peculiar and potent alchemy in the spaces where creativity meets cuisine. For centuries, writers and artists have sought sustenance not just for the body, but for the soul and the imagination, in the bustling corners of cafes, the worn booths of taverns, and the unassuming tables of neighborhood bistros. These are not merely restaurants; they are sanctuaries, stages, and silent collaborators in the act of creation. To embark on a tour of these hallowed eateries is to trace the ghostly outlines of literary movements and artistic revolutions, one espresso, one bowl of stew, one glass of absinthe at a time. It is a journey into the very heart of cultural history, tasted and savored.
No institution is more synonymous with the artistic life than the classic café. These were the original co-working spaces, heated by debate, clouded with smoke, and fueled by cheap coffee and cheaper wine.
No literary food tour can begin anywhere but Paris’s Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Here, across the street from one another, sit Les Deux Magots and the Café de Flore. In the mid-20th century, these were the twin engines of existentialist thought. At the Flore, Simone de Beauvoir would hold her morning court, writing for hours amidst the art deco interiors. Jean-Paul Sartre famously claimed the café’s atmosphere was ideal for work because “we are not at home here, and yet we are not elsewhere.” The hot chocolate was a staple. A few steps away, Les Deux Magots, with its iconic statues of Chinese magistrates (les deux magots), played host to the likes of Ernest Hemingway in his earlier, poorer days, and later, Albert Camus. The ritual was simple: a café crème, a notebook, and the endless parade of human life for inspiration. To sit there today is to feel the weight of a thousand discarded drafts and revolutionary ideas that shaped modern literature.
Traveling east to Vienna, the atmosphere shifts from existential angst to fin-de-siècle intellectual ferment. Café Central was, as the saying went, a place “where time and space are consumed, but only the coffee appears on the bill.” With its soaring, vaulted ceilings and marble pillars, it resembled a cathedral dedicated to conversation. Leon Trotsky was a regular before the Revolution. Sigmund Freud might have analyzed the Viennese pastries. Most famously, it was a second home to the writers of the Jung Wien (Young Vienna) movement, like Peter Altenberg, who even had his mail delivered there. The menu, heavy with Apfelstrudel and Sachertorte, offered sweet comfort during hours of intense debate about art, politics, and the human psyche. The café was a microcosm of a fading empire, buzzing with the ideas that would eventually dismantle it.
If the café nurtured the mind, the pub and tavern fortified the spirit. These were places of camaraderie, confession, and often, brilliant, alcohol-lubricated insight.
Nestled by the Thames, The Dove boasts one of the smallest bars in England and one of the richest literary pedigrees. In the 18th century, the poet James Thomson would drink here, perhaps drawing inspiration from the river views for his work The Seasons. But its most legendary patron was Ernest Hemingway (again), who, during his 1920s London stint, famously arm-wrestled here. More consistently, it was a haunt for writers like Graham Greene and Richard Burton. The charm is in its intimacy; low ceilings, dark wood, and the quiet flow of the river outside create a cocoon perfect for plotting a novel or dissecting a poem over a pint of their excellent ale.
Crossing the Atlantic to New York’s West Village, The White Horse Tavern stands as a monument to post-war American bohemia. It is forever linked to the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, who allegedly drank his last 18 straight whiskies here before his death in 1953. But its legacy is broader: it was a haven for the Beat Generation. Jack Kerouac held court here, his On the Road energy spilling into raucous nights. Norman Mailer, Anaïs Nin, and Bob Dylan all passed through its doors. The atmosphere is unpretentious—checked tablecloths, a long wooden bar—a democratic space where the famous and the aspiring could rub shoulders, debate, and dream, fueled by hearty burgers and cold beer.
Beyond the iconic cafes and pubs are the personal favorites, the neighborhood spots where artists found a taste of home or an exotic escape, integral to their daily rhythm and work.
The sensory overload of New Orleans has fed countless writers. For Tennessee Williams, the city was his “spiritual home,” and he was a regular at Galatoire’s, where the Friday lunches are legendary. But perhaps even more evocative is Antoine’s, the oldest family-run restaurant in the U.S. Its private dining rooms, like the Mystery Room (where Prohibition was famously ignored), hosted literary giants like William Faulkner and Sherwood Anderson. The rich, creamy flavors of Oysters Rockefeller (invented here) or Pompano en Papillote provide a taste of the decadent, complex, and haunted South that these authors captured in their prose.
This tour is as much about the symbiosis between bookshop and bar as anything. Adjacent to the legendary City Lights Booksellers & Publishers in San Francisco’s North Beach is Vesuvio Cafe. The Beat heart of America still beats here. Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and Neal Cassady would move fluidly between the shelves of poetry and the bar’s wooden stools. Vesuvio, with its stained glass, quirky art, and maritime vibe, was the living room for a revolution in letters. Order a “Jack Kerouac”—a combination of rum, tequila, and orange juice—and imagine the feverish conversations about Howl and Dharma bums that once filled the air.
Today, seeking out these eateries has become a vibrant form of cultural tourism. It’s a way to move beyond the museum and the monument to experience history in a more intimate, participatory way. The act of sipping an aperitivo in a Roman café once frequented by Federico Fellini, or eating tapas in a Madrid tasca where Hemingway set a scene in The Sun Also Rises, connects us to the creative process in a uniquely tangible way.
When you plan your own literary and food tour, go beyond the snapshot. Order what the artist might have ordered. Sit for an hour with a journal or a book they wrote. Observe the light, the sounds, the pace. These places worked because they offered a specific blend of comfort and stimulation, anonymity and community. They remind us that creativity is not a solitary act performed in a vacuum, but one often fed by the clatter of dishes, the murmur of strangers, and the simple, profound pleasure of a good meal in a room humming with life. The legacy of these writers and artists is not just on the page or the canvas; it’s in the very air and on the menu, waiting for the next hungry pilgrim to take a seat and begin their own story.
Copyright Statement:
Author: Kunming Travel
Source: Kunming Travel
The copyright of this article belongs to the author. Reproduction is not allowed without permission.
Prev:Kunming Travel Card: How to Transfer Between Lines
Next:A Focus on Crafts: Minority Embroidery and Pottery Markets