Paris Restaurants and Beyond

La Vitrine - Spring Backwards, Fall Ahead

2012-02-04T17:04:00.000-08:00

By Paris standards, this past Friday night was virtually arctic, but Co. and I gamely donned several layers and headed out to the metro, direction Pigalle, and ascended into the Paris night at the Anvers stop. As we walked toward La Vitrine, our destination for the evening, and approached the square on rue Turgot, we paused for a moment to turn around to have a look at the Sacre Coeur, sitting majestically atop Montmartre all aglow. Once we passed the Auvergne cheese and fish stalls aligning the square, there was the Montparnasse tower off in the distance straight ahead. Paris it is. And my mood was truly upbeat, because after checking out Vitrine's website and catching a glimpse at the following dishes, I was looking forward to a memorable meal.

I really wanted to like La Vitrine. First, there are those snide comments on other review sites about how La Vitrine is doomed from the start, having moved into the old site of the local legend, Spring. Now, I still haven't found out how wonderful and super fantastic Spring is, because the last time I tried to reserve there, which is when they still resided at the rue de la Tour D'Auvergne location, I was told, sorry, we're fully booked until 2015, or something like that. Second, everything was copacetic upon arrival. A nice welcome from the charming hostess, we were seated abutting the counter separating the dining room from the open kitchen.

It's understandable that a wildly successful venue like Spring would bolt from its original location. La Vitrine's owners have done an admirable job of making full use of the limited sq. meters, lining up a grand total of 9 tables along the two walls. The offerings for the evening, barely legible on two mounted slate boards included the following dishes, as listed at the website:

Unfortunatley, La Vitrine ultimately didn't live up to expectations. I went with the marinated tuna, the fish of the day - a rectangular slab of lean white fish, poisson maigre - and the lemon tartelette. Co. opted for the raviole (which unfortunately couldn't touch that of Table D'Eugene, see my last entry), cochon, and creme brulee. The personal touch of Israeli-born-and-bred chef Kobi Villot-Malka, seen preparing the tuna marinee dish below, was plainly visible to the naked eye. After all, as he was preparing the dishes, he was probably as close to me as Co. was at the other side of our small square table.

All that work put into each individual tuna entree resulted in a dish whose taste was surprisingly un-wow (pardon my deconstruction of the English language). My maigre (2nd image below) was delicious, but the accompanying thick turnip circle didn't seem to make any sense - its slightly bitter taste contrary to the almost sweet elegance of the fish. The small cubes of panais - a root vegetable close to the carrot - were pretty much tasteless. What could have been a great dish ended up as a minor disappointment. Co. was less critical of her cochon dish, savoring the topinabour cream. Two big thumbs up for the desserts, however. I now recognize that I am an easy mark when it comes to well-prepared lemon tarts, and the one at La Vitrine was a winner, accompanied by a mound of gentle slices of mango and cassis. Much care also went into the creme brulee with truffes preparation - Co. happens to be a creme brulee fanatic, and this one scored mightedly.

The meal was washed down with a decent bottle of Haute Cotes Beaune, reasonably priced at 27€. The wine menu was relatively short, but well composed. A couple of post-meal cafes, brought to the table in cute little covered tasses, brought the grand total, including a couple 'supplements' to 107€. The menu lacked from inclusion of a cheese course - incomprehensible given the Auvergne cheese stalls a couple blocks away, and I'll say it again - why not bring a couple patisseries along with the coffee, especially when the dessert menu lacks a chocolate option? Little things, big effects. Too bad to see only three other tables occupied during our visit, perhaps more a function of the weather than reputation. I got the impression chef Kobi likes to experiment, so maybe you'll have better luck, but I don't think we'll be returning. La Vitrine is still fairly new and it deserves a look. Nonetheless, as we made our way to Gare du Nord, a light snow was falling, reminding us that we're still a long way from Spring.

LA VITRINE
28, rue de la Tour D'Auvergne
75009 Paris
01 45 23 99 13
website: www.restaurant-lavitrine.com

Easing Into 2012

2012-02-04T16:10:00.000-08:00

As per habitude, Co. and I eased into 2012 by venturing out to two of our usual haunts during the first two weekends of the year, Table d'Eugene and L'Agrume, respectively. At a time when a new year heralds all kinds of potential for change, including various resolutions that we typically forget about one week later, when it comes to restaurants, our tendency is to lean toward the tried and true. And that's about all I have to say about these two Paris bistrots that I have previously reviewed extensively at this site - we tried them again and they remain true to our hearts.

LA TABLE D'EUGENE Admittedly, the return trip to Eugene was over a month ago, and I'm afraid I can't provide many details about the various courses that comprised the 38€ menu, accompanied by a 33€ bottle of Saumur (Eolithe). As usual, Co. was transported more by Eugene than I was, but my ravioles in cream entree was sublime (2nd image below). I've had that disgusting looking chocolate dessert you see below - the Blob - before: it starts off as an elegantly perfect, shiny globe, but once the chocolate cream is poured over the glistening black chocolate exterior, the composition implodes. The kid in me really gets off on that sort of thing, but the decrepit hedonistic adult in me loves the taste. The highlights follow:

L'AGRUME One week later it was back to L'Agrume, a venue we try to get to 4 or 5 times during the year, and why not? Chef Franck Marchesi makes sure to change the menu...every single day. So there we were, snug at our favorite front corner table, surrounded by glass in the comfortable, dimly lit room, but in full view of the open kitchen activity. I had my camera in my pocket, but once I snapped a barely readable photo of the evening's five-course 39€ tasting menu, the camera returned to my pocket for the rest of the meal. I must have felt more Parisian than tourist/blogger that evening, especially after progressing through the tasty bottle of Palhas red (34€) and didn't want to wreck the mood by playing photographer. You'll just have to close your eyes and imagine - up to the somewhat disappointing banana dessert, it was business as usual, i.e., excellent, the creamy risotto with smoked eel a standout.

LA TABLE D'EUGENE
18 rue Eugene Sue
75018 Paris
tel: 01 42 55 61 64

L'AGRUME
15, rue des Fosses St-Marcel
Paris 5th
01 43 31 86 48
website: www.restaurantlagrume.fr

“Top of the world, Ma!” - Bests 2011

2012-01-10T16:43:00.000-08:00

In fact, before that gas tank explodes in White Heat, James Cagney actually yells, “Made it, Ma. Top of the world!” But let's not nitpick. It's that time again, actually, it's 10 days past that time again, to name my top five restaurants of the year, in this case 2011. Hard to believe, but Paris Restaurants and Beyond is now entering its fourth year, with somewhere around 80 or so restaurants reviewed, so I first have to give myself an award for keeping with it. Congratulations, me. It would be nice to hear from more readers, especially with your own recommendations, but I know, you are shy and I don't want to press you. I'm happy you come to this site and welcome your contributions.

As mentioned in previous PR and B 'best of' installments, I have no claim to suggest that any restaurants named here are in fact the 'best' restaurants, which would be a ridiculous claim to verify anyway - only that my best meals outside my own kitchen were found in the venues listed. 'Best' for me includes originality from the chef, fresh and inventive ingredients, and an overall enjoyable and memorable experience, the latter of which includes conviviality, atmosphere, and service from staff and fellow diners. Without further ado, here are my top five for 2011 (full reviews and addresses by clicking the relevant links in the 'restaurants reviewed to date' list to the right):

1. Le Gaigne - two really terrific dinners at Le Gaigne in 2011. I don't know why we don't hear or read more about this little gem situated between Beaubourg and the Marais, but the menus degustation for the two visits were inventive and completely satisfying. You've read my reviews, now check out another from the One Spoonful at a Time blog. Le Gaigne is tiny, but chef/owner Mickael Gaignon performs some grand magic in his kitchen.

2. La Gazzetta - regular readers of this blog should not be surprised by this choice, as I have been praising the restaurant since 2010.

3. Chateaubriand - I wouldn't go so far as to agree that this is the best restaurant in Paris, as has been claimed, but it's damn good. Multi-dishes pass before you in a blur, creative and hip, but alas, some of those dishes are just too tiny for their own good. And they are good.

4. Septime - This new addition to my 'go to' Paris restaurant list, along with Chatomat, were the most promising restaurants I dined at in 2011. Not great, but enough to suggest that they may soon be. I really enjoyed my dinner, particularly at Septime, last Fall, but it's hard to jump to conclusions after just one visit. I'm really looking forward to the next time.

5. Chatomat - see no. 4 above, and it's true, I did call this one 'great' in my review. In retrospective, let me just amend that by saying 'we'll see.'

Co., my dining cohort, is pretty much in agreement with these choices, although she'd probably nudge Septime or Chatomat from their mutual slots to include La Table D'Eugene, one of her personal favorites.

Best tapas - Aux Deux Amis - chaotic and crazy in the early evening. That herring ended up on the floor, but too much fun to care. And even the simple tapas were fresh and memorable.

Best oyster restaurant - Le Pleine Mer. 'Restaurant' may be stretching it, but there's no denying this is one of the top, if not the top 'o the world, places to eat oysters in Paris, especially if you are seeking authenticity down by the seashore in the heart of Paris.

Best online shopping for Mexican condiments - Dos Mexicanas, hands down. Based in Villepinte (France metropolitan). Sauces, hot peppers, chipotle, you name it. Great selection, reasonable prices, and I've already received orders within one or two days of ordering online.

Best movie about food: El Bulli - Cooking In Progress. This documentary about Ferran Adrià's majestic, but alas now closed, greatest restaurant in the world is mesmerizing from the opening shot of Adrià tasting a flourescent lollipop, to the final close-ups of the 38 dishes served during a typical meal. The film covers the six months the El Bulli team spent in their experimental labs in Barcelona, and follows the evolution of the new menu items for the restaurant's upcoming season in Roses, Spain. At one point during the experimental phase, Adrià tells his chefs, 'Don't worry about the quality of the taste, it must be magical!'

Disappointments of the Year - there were a number of these, although if you're not expecting much (see Millesimes 62, La Cerisaie, and Tintilou), it would be unfair to classify a venue as disappointing. But when Frenchie and JaJa get so many rave reviews (albeit 'rave' is an exaggeration for JaJa), disappointment definitely does apply. People talk about Frenchie like it's the bees-knees, so maybe I hit a bad night, but I was distinctly underwhelmed. And as for Jaja, fuggedaboutit.

Pleine Mer - Oyster Heaven

2011-12-31T06:44:00.000-08:00

The allusion to oysters in my last review - L'Aquarelle in the Charente Maritime region- was no accident. By some strange turn of events, I didn't have an opportunity to to sample any oysters in that oyster-rich part of the country during my recent visit, so I brought my oyster - hereafter 'huitre' - craving back to Paris. What better way to bid 'adieu' to 2011 than by ingesting a dozen huitres and a bottle of muscadet?

There are many options for huitres in Paris, needless to say, from the highly touted Le Bistrot du Dome to the higher (Le Bar a Huitres) to lower (La Criee) chains. Co. and I, however, opted for the one that sounded most authentical and unpretentious, and, based on our meal there, hit the nail on the head.

Just the huitres, Jack, just the huitres. Pleine Mer is located an easy six-minute walk from Gare du Nord on the funky little rue Chabrol. Along the route, be sure to step into the immense (and also funky) Marché Saint-Quentin which, easily enough, is found on rue Saint-Quentin. As we approached the petite restaurant, we espied Sylvain Bertheau, propriétaire-ostréiculteur, in front finishing up a smoke in the pouring rain. M. Bertheau is Pleine Mer - shucker, waiter, owner, cashier, etc. - at least for our end-of-year visit. Once through the entrance, you pass a couple of large stainless-steel refrigerators for upcoming take-out orders and crates of freshly-packed oysters stacked on the floor.

We installed ourselves at one of the 8 or so small square tables, and were immediately informed by M. Bertheau that he had no smoked salmon for the evening, but plenty of huitres of the Cancal region of France, numbers 1, 2, and 3. Pleine Mer typically promises varieties of huitres ranging from 1 to 6, the lower numbers denoting larger (and higher priced) options. A 'formule' of a dozen huitres, a dish of tarama, and smoked salmon is possible, but as bears no explanation, only on days when M. Bertheau has smoked salmon on tap. This was not one of those nights, but never fear, we came for huitres, so huitres it was. Not that we had a choice.

Co. and I each selected a dozen no. 2 huitres (16.50€ each), which arrived on a bed of algae and plenty of fresh sea water in the shells, three slices of lemon, a basket of brown sliced bread and butter, and a bottle of muscadet (13€). M. Bertheau also offered us gratis a little dish of tarama cabillaud to smear on the bread. Now I ask you, what could be better on a chilly, rainy, end-of-the-year night in Paris? For dessert, we finished up with the one option available, a large slab of the buttery/sugary Breton cake, Kouign-Amann (3.50€ per slice), with its crusty, slightly burned top. This is a deadly guilty pleasure guaranteed to add a few notches to your cholesterol level.

With Pleine Mer, simplicity, authenticity, a lack of pretention, a convivial host, and some of the tastiest huitres you can imagine tell the story, all at the humble price of 54€ for two (including wine). What else is there to say? If you are in Paris and you crave a little huitres house by the sea, without actually being at the sea, you couldn't do better, in my humble opinion.

PLEINE MER

22, rue de Chabrol
Paris (75010)
TÉL : +33 1 53 34 64 47

Notes: On tap to start off the new year is a return visit to Table d'Eugene. I also promise to work up the energy to compile a 2011 recap, as soon as I chase my new year's hangover.

L'Aquarelle - A Pearl in the Oyster

2011-12-24T05:50:00.000-08:00

If you are headed down to the Charente Maritime region of France (La Rochelle, Rochefort, Royan, St. Palais-sur-Mer, Santes et al.), there are probably two things on your mind: oysters and wine. Once you get beyond the seafood, however, this is pretty much a gastronomical wasteland. One glaring exception is the Michelin-starred L'Aquarelle, a pearl in the tiny village of Breuillet, a hop, skip, and jump outside of St. Palais-sur-Mer, home of the alleged best zoo in France.

Co. and I happened to be in these familiar stomping grounds for a pre-holidays visit, just in time for the latest sou'wester tempest to hit. With 120km/hr winds and torrential rain lasting the night before, we were just hoping the restaurant would still be standing for our Friday evening reservation. Sure enough, there it was, all aglow in the quiet, quiet still-rain soaked streets of Breuillet, not another human, animal, or vegetable in sight. Upon entering the restaurant you get the feeling of being home, a nice refuge from the imposing climatic forces of a late December by the sea.

L'Aquarelle details all are available at their informative website, once you get past that weird condom transforming into a dinner plate introductory motif. Twenty years my junior, chef Xavier Taffart brings his strong credentials to the kitchen and flaunts his creative skills well (be sure to check out the food images there). Tapping into our collective unconscious, Taffart's cooking seems to draw from the Jungian archetype of the circle - yin/yang, anima/animus - which is apparent in several dishes. That he has more up his sleeve than is apparent at first glance was clear when we ordered the 6-dish 55€ menu degustation and found that it consisted almost entirely of items that were not available on the regular menu. (For another 20€ the menu degustation is accompanied by five glasses of pre-selected wines.) When in Rome, or in this case, Bordeaux country, order a local wine. And so we did, and this turned out to be a real gem, a 2009 Villanova rouge. Fruity and midway between light and strong, this wine reminded me of some of the top riojas I have sampled in Spain.

The meal commenced with a three-part amuse bouche: a bettrave mousse, cigarette lardons et creme, and a celery mousse, all outstanding, but the highlight was the beet mousse, which was served in a candied shell resembling an egg (yin). My photo shows what it looks like when you crack the egg before snapping the picture.

The first official dish was a warming combination of a couple tender gnocci in a soup comprised of onion and cheese. There is no photo, which demonstrates what happens when you completely eat the dish before thinking of snapping a photo. Up next was a circle of foie gras pot-au-feu (yang), with herring eggs and haddock mousse. This is what it's all about, really put me in the holiday spirit - or was that the third glass of Villanova?

Dish 3 was comprised of a creative combination of cabillaud 1/2 sel, pulpe de topinambours, mayonnaise vanille, and citron. Yes, the topinambour raises its ever prevalent (in French restaurants) head again, with some flowers and mushrooms thrown in to round out the (this time) square-shaped dish.

The next dish was my personal favorite (Co. would vote for the foie gras hands down) lotte curry (anima), with sweet onion, asparagus and seminole, betraying my predilection for Asian spices.

The obligatory interlude before dessert was next on the agenda, as the fully-stocked chariot of cheeses was brought to our table. I savored a few choice morsels, the slab of comte, strong and essential.

Next, we were informed by our attentive yet not quite ready for prime-time waiter (youth!) that our next dish was not dessert, but pre-dessert, which was a way to tell us that there were, in fact, two desserts. The pre-dessert was less ordinary than it may have appeared - mango creme sandwiched between a wave of sugared potato (quick: potato. Fruit or vegetable?), its delicate curves reminding me of the turbulent waves of the sea a couple kilometers to the west. This was damn good.

Not to be outdone, however, was the actual dessert, or dessert no. 2 for those of you who are counting - a trio of edible, miniature geodesic domes (animus): a candied shell encapsulating jasmine creme, with a couple faux cherries to boot, the latter composed of crushed apple. Visions of Futuroscope, the science theme park 60 or so kilometers to the north, entered my mind.

Along with the post-meal cafe came a cart jam-packed with any child's fantasy of stocking stuffers - candies, cakes, macaroons. At this point, no sense overdoing it, but what harm can a couple of little cakes on the house create?

So, overall, I am more than satisfied that the tempest did not blow away L'Aquarelle before my scheduled visit. The price/quality ratio is a deal closer: a six-course meal, a bottle of wine, coffee, and some extras thrown in came to a mere 138.50€. It's hard to find fault with anything food related, but if there is a nit to pick it would have to be the piped in music that further confirms Frank Zappa's famous quote that people wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass. Muted, but not quite enough, just go with the subdued baroque under these circumstances. And that white concept spoon - I go one way, it goes the other - really needs to be rendered to the trashbin. But these are minor quibbles. L'Aquarelle is truly deserving of its Michelin star. It's not around the corner, but add this venue to your reasons to venture southwest of Paris, even during the off-season.

L'AQUARELLE
22, rte Cande
17920 Breuillet
tel. 05.46.22.11.38
website: http://www.laquarelle.net/accueil.html

Notes:

1. According to Aurelie Taffart, our proprieter-hostess, the restaurant's current location is a rental and the couple is in the process of building a permanent home for L'Aquarelle, which will remain in Breuillet, so it shouldn't be too hard to find.

2. Thanks to LB, whose Google search was better than mine, and who recommended L'Aquarelle as a can't miss option.

3. With one of our mainstays by the sea in Royan - Le Petit Bouchon - closed for the season, Co. and I gambled on La Jabotière, which sits next door to the casino - and lost. Nice waitstaff, a view of the sea, and they really seem to try, but the food just wasn't up to snuff.

Chatomat - Dumb Name, Great Restaurant

2011-12-13T16:25:00.000-08:00

If you have to ask "Who knows what a Chatomat is?!" as Le Fooding Guide recently did while naming said restaurant the "Meilleure Table" of 2011, chances are you've got a dumb name on your hands - almost as dumb (or presumptuous) as claiming to know what is the 'best table' in a city with more than 40,000 restaurants (see 'Paris'). No, it's not a distributor of 'chats' (cats), nor is it a Facebook or Twitter competitor. Paris Update's Grégory Picard suggests the name is 'a punning response to Chateaubriand,' the terrific Parisian restaurant that I have often lauded at this site. If so, I don't get the pun, but who cares anyway? I can't put it any more succinctly than Le Fooding, that 'one thing's for sure, it's a damn good restaurant.'

A short walk from the Menilmontant metro stop and just around the corner from the little bistrot La Boulangerie, which I wrote about a couple months ago, on a street that is oh so typically Paris - how did the Woodman miss it as a locale for Midnight in Paris? - Chatomat is a diminutive spot that seats no more than 24. Tiny, in the sense that you'll have difficulty discerning the ongoing conversation at your table from the one next to you - speaking of oh so Paris - but comfortable enough not to let that detract from the understated, joyful dishes brought to your table. Co. and I arrived at 8 p.m. on the dot and had our choice of tables, selecting one in the back against the wall that allowed Co. to keep tabs on the efficient goings-on in the kitchen, helmed by Alice Di Cagno and Victor Gaillard, a multicultural coupling that brings a fusion of flavors to the meal.

If you are a regular reader, you know how I am a sucker for the little things - a finely appointed 'amuse bouche' offered before placing one's order goes a long way to endearing me as a loyal patron. Well, Chatomat has this one down pat, with a pair of succulent oysters and toast appearing before us, a fine omen of things to come.

The well-balanced (whites and reds) and fairly-priced wine list made for a difficult choice, but I was satisfied with our Saint Nicolas de Bourgueil, Domaine Du Mortier (32€). The food carte is sparse, with 3 options for each course, and no 'menu' offered. A no-brainer for Co., as she went with the pan-fried foie gras, which turned out to be very special indeed (12€). I glommed onto the salmon dish: saumon fumé mi-cuit/velouté de fèvettes/clémentine (10€). This dish worked well without setting off fireworks, yet with each component nicely complementing the other. I wasn't so bleary-eyed from the wine yet as the photo suggests - does anyone want to buy a nice ASUS smartphone with a lousy camera?

For the main course, Co. went with the bar (sea bass) with round rice and leeks(18€) and I opted for the volaille fermier (20€)- both turned out to be delicate and creative surprises, the fish enhanced in part by jus de betterave, and the chicken structured in two facons with creamy semoule. Forget my smartphone, here are some more accomplished images of Chatomat offerings from Google images:

We split a dish of two slabs of tart and excellent Comté cheese served with quince confeture and raisin toast (10€), and thankfully, there was still some Bourgueil left to wash it down. The desserts did not disappoint - a pain perdu (8€)and a mousse chocolat (6€). As is wont to happen - maybe it's me - my dessert - the mousse - started off slow, but I figured it out by the end and wanted more. What we got, eschewing a post-meal cafe for a change, were two tiny lemon tarts, another freebie that iced it for me.

So there you have it. Two three-course meals, cheese, and wine clocked in at a reasonable 116€. There appears to be good reason a lot of folks are chatting about Chatomat. It doesn't go out of its way to 'wow' you - there is nothing ostentatious about the the food, decor, or service - but that understated approach goes a long way to charm.

CHATOMAT
6 rue Victor Letalle
Paris 20
tel. 01 47 97 25 77
no website

Note: there's a hot little nightspot a couple doors down from Chatomat, Le Feline, perhaps a noise nuisance for Chatomat's owners, but the throng outside simply adds to the ambiance of the setting.

Le Guide Fooding 2012 - Winners' Circle

2011-12-07T17:43:00.000-08:00

Although the 2012 Fooding Guide has been sitting on my table for the better part of a month, I have been remiss in sharing their latest list of top tables for 2011 - the so-called Le palmarès, blame it on the day job. But I'm psyched - on the list is the last venue I favorably reviewed - Septime - and at the top is where Co. and I are heading this coming weekend - Chatomat. In the groove, and a nice list to start off 2012 with - I already have Au Passage in the radar. What am I waiting for, drum roll, please . . .

A bit closer look at the Paris establishments follow, photos (click to enlarge) courtesy of Le Figaro:

If there is more buzz about another affordable restaurant gastronomique these days than Chatomat, I haven't heard it. According to Fooding, "Who knows what a Chatomat is?! One thing for sure it's a damn good restaurant!" Enough said for now, my review is forthcoming.

Well, I've been pretty clear that I'm not on the Frenchie bandwagon, but maybe there's something to the wine bar.

I just read a favorable review of Au Passage at one of the Paris newsletter sites, and I'm definitely intrigued. Per Fooding, "The food is jazzed up a bit by a former Spring cook, but really it's just good, simple, and inexpensive." Sounds like the place to go for lunch, but I'll probably opt for a dinner, early 2012.

Ah, Septime, one of my personal favorite discoveries of 2011. "Food not quite spot on at first but seventh heaven really can't be that far off..." which is why I'll be returning as soon as possible.

I like to think of myself as a man of substance, so why not a restaurant of substance? Fooding says "dazzling" and who am I to argue until I get there and try it on for size firsthand?

So many restaurants, so little time, as I've intoned on countless occasions, but where, where, I ask you, can you "watch the barge-boats pass by from this lone spot on the Ile Seguin, a temporary restaurant managed by the South West chef Arnaud Daguin. His concise, unpretentious and delicious vegetarian menu uses all organic produce." But does "temporary" mean Les Grandes Tables won't be back as "best decor" restaurant next year?

So that brings us to Pantruche, none other than 'best bistrot' of 2011. Hmmm...never heard of it, but "something on the menu to please everyone.." I'm sold.

I haven't thought about it too much yet, but I guess having 4 or 5 of these as destinations for 2012 is a pretty good start for New Year's resolutions. Check out how I'm doing by regularly returning here for concise, pithy, witty, and anything but objective reviews.

For a complete listing of Le Guide Fooding palmare winners dating back to 2000, check out this link. The Guide Fooding 2012 now available at newsstands for a mere 9,90€.

Septime - Settling For Better

2011-11-11T16:15:00.000-08:00

I don't know what it is about this time of year, but people in the capital are definitely more frazzled than usual - the streets, stations, and trains are more packed than ever; the weather has that ambiguous seasonal mix that spells 'blah'; and the Parisian disposition seems to be especially ornery - or maybe it's just me. Anyway, as a fellow diner at Le Gaigne astutely observed around the end of another exceptionally satisfying meal at that venue, 'You're lucky to be living here!' And after back-to-back weekends of excellent dinners at Septime and the aforementioned Le Gaigne, I would have to agree.

As I've already done my due diligence regarding Le Gaigne, I turn my focus in this installment on Septime, another one of those hot bistrots of the moment that many have been raving about. And when that happens, my warning antennae start signaling caution. I've been to enough over-hyped, over-priced bistrots in Paris to know that the raves often can result in a significant letdown - good, but not good enough. In fact, among the many raves for Septime are more than a few 'disappointed/decu' customer comments, and I must admit, I wasn't expecting much. Yet, as this review's title suggests, this time I settled for better than expected. Other than my personal gripe at not having a mise-en-bouche, the meal was thoroughly satisfying from the opening entree to the understated, yet epic, dessert.

Septime is a venue that I took a quick liking to as soon as Co. and I were guided into the far dining room, which sported that uncanny combination of unfinished/ modern, with a rustic far wall sporting a long horizontal mirror, an iron spiral staircase, potted plants embellishing the large storefront window looking out on rue de Charonne, and a young, upbeat and friendly waitstaff. Yes, we eased into our wooden butcher block square of a table and were quickly handed a little clipboard on which a sparse carte of offerings was attached. This was a no-brainer, a 5-course 55€ 'menu' consisting of a sampling of items from the a la carte offerings selected by 30-year-old chef Bertrand Grebaut. A basket of mouth-watering country bread (did I just say 'mouth-watering'?) arrived at the table shortly before our 35€ Pinot Noir Binner. I love good bread and here there was no complaint.

This is where my review breaks down - blame it too much Pinot, blame it on interference from my dinner at Le Gaigne last night, blame it on the Macarena - but details as to our particular dishes are lacking in my memory networks. I took some photos, but they really don't do justice to the dishes, so I've just added a couple from other sites. Here's what I can tell you: the meal got off to an interesting start with a light combination of delicate scallops with cresson. This was a subtle dish whose pleasures slowly snuck up on me. It wasn't the highlight of the meal by any means, but a sign that chef Grebaut has a talent for bringing forth flavors without overcomplicating a meal. Let's just say elegantly simple. The opener was followed by couteaux and beurres des herbes arrayed in a long narrow shell. This dish was perfumed and tasty (what the hell, here's my photo.

Now for some professional images from redvisitor:

Next up was a rouget dish accompanied by topinambour--the Jerusalem artichoke has made its way to every Parisian kitchen on the planet--and cabbage, another home run. Next, poulette de patis/racines - if you're thinking there isn't much you can do with chicken that hasn't already been done, you should have tried this. Not exceptionally creative, yet the meat was succulent and plentiful. Yes, when I say plentiful, it was nice to have a tasting menu for a change that consisted of more than microscopic dishes. All I can remember about the dessert - maybe it was the pinot afterall - is that when I saw the little block of chocolate and mango accompaniment, my first words to Co. were along the lines of 'not very interesting.' Wrong. This was one of those dishes that starts out slow and quickly builds to a crescendo. By the end, I noticed that both Co. and I were still scraping the plate with our spoons to get that last drop. That's always a good sign.

I wish I could relate more about the specific plates, but this is another one of those places with rapidly changing menus - no complaint, change is a good thing, of course. But in the wake of Le Gaigne's killer dinner last night, it's kind of difficult to think of anything but. Nonetheless, Septime reminded me more than a little of Le Chateaubriand, one of my favorites, so I'm looking forward to a return visit. Why 'Septime'? Check out this video link. The film was Le Grand Restaurant, and the character played by Louis de Funès aspired to open a 'great restaurant' called Septime. Monsieur Grebaut is obviously a film buff, and in his case, life imitates art.

SEPTIME
80 rue de Charonne
75011 Paris
tel: 01 43 67 38 29
no website

Jaja - Dahling I Love You, But Give Me Park Avenue

2011-10-19T16:47:00.000-07:00

Sitting here la la, waiting for my Jaja, a hm ahm. Sorry, I digress. I hope my readers will appreciate the elliptical title of this here installment, even though, as one should know, it was Eva who starred in the referenced pinnacle (or should I say 'nadir') of '60s American mindless TV, Green Acres, and not sis Zsa Zsa, may she continue to battle the grim reaper. Where was I? Ah yes, Jaja. It doesn't take much to get me off my butt and into a new restaurant venue in the heart of Paris, and so to Jaja Co. and I trekked last Friday night, after I read Sarah Emily Miano's favorable (with reservations) review in the online Paris Update newsletter. As suggested, Miano's review fell far short of a rave, but enough to pique my interest in the possibilities. Ms. Miano, who was saddened by the lack of pichets on the wine list (does it sound elitist if I add a 'tsk' here?), also effused that "The burger, when presented to a neighboring diner, had me drooling." Well, hopefully she'll grow with the job, but Ms. Miano is clearly no Richard Hesse, her resident predecessor at aforementioned newsletter. New York is where I'd rather stay, I get allergic smelling hay, I just adore a penthouse view. I don't know, I can't get that Green Acres theme song out of my mind now. I wish I could say the same for our 129€ mediocre meal at Jaja.

Location! Location! Right smack dab in the heart of the trendy Marais district in a quiet courtyard amidst the shops and hordes of passersby, one enters the glass front of the restaurant and still feels outside, the large front rooms doubling as a terrace with retractable roof during the warm weather months. There are other rooms in the back and downstairs, and these emulate less terrace than cave, images available at the restaurant's website gallery. Young, attractive, and efficient waitresses fanned out from their little tete a tete phone klatsch around the central bar as soon as the tables started filling up with casually attired patrons who looked like they had dropped in for a quick nosh. We are not exactly talking Michelin-level here.

For an idea as to what to expect in the way of dishes, here is a look at Jaja's online carte, little of which matched what was on offer during our visit (click to enlarge):

From the ala carte offerings for the evening of our visit (a 'menu' only available at lunchtime), I selected the poelee d'ecrevisses as an entree, or as they prefer at Jaja my 'first act', essentially a mound of Asian noodles sporting several bland crayfish. I lost interest midway in, so Co. obliged as I periodically snatched some of her fricassee de champignons, a competently prepared dish of smoky mushrooms - both opening acts overpriced at 17€. For the 'classics not to be missed' Co. went with the canard sauvage, while I selected a blackboard special of filet de barbue poele et puree de topinambours, priced, respectively, at 23€ and 26€. I can't complain about my fish dish, topped by what appeared to be a pistou sauce, but both dishes, while workmanlike, evinced little evidence of creativity. Desserts as well were hardly inspired - my tiramissu marron and Co's tartare mangue/ananas provided the obligatory sugar fix at the end of the meal and nothing more. Top notch, however, was the bottle of Languedoc St. Chinian, a bold red that kept me in good spirits even when having to pay the 129€ for an uninspired meal. No complaints whatsoever regarding the wine list - plenty of reasonably priced and interesting choices, including some foreign bottles.

Jaja comes to the Marais bearing something of a pedigree, having been conceived by the same folks behind Glou, another trendy spot also located in the Marais that I have not reviewed at this site. Take away that pedigree and stick Jaja in some burg off the beaten path and I wouldn't put much money on its chances for long-term success. In fact, take away the location and the nice terrace, I have no idea why Jaja would merit the detour. If you're in need of a refilling during a hectic shopping trip to the interesting shops of the Marais and are willing to pay for mediocrity, you know where to go.

jaja. That's correct, it isn't supposed to be capitalized and that period is part of the name. Sitting here la la Waiting for my Ya Ya a hm ahm Sitting here la la Waiting for my Ya Ya uh

3 rue Sainte Croix de la Bretonnerie
75004 Paris
tel. 01 42 74 71 52
website

Going Back

2011-10-13T18:11:00.000-07:00

Say something once, why say it again? Which explains why I haven't posted for a while. As I gear up for some new venues, some obligatory return visits were in order. One of the hazards of a passionate interest in restaurants, not to mention restaurants in Paris, is that you discover places that are so good, once is not enough. Rather than belabor the point, and because I've reviewed L'Agrume, Le Chateaubriand, and Rino in previous installments, I merely intend to reproduce the tasting menus/ menus degustation that Co. and I experienced over the last few weeks, just to give an idea as to what some local chefs are up to as the chill of Autumn begins to envelop the Parisian atmosphere.

First up was Rino. Not exactly an old favorite, but the first visit there made me want to go back, though I couldn't exactly pinpoint why - maybe it was the terrific rouget I had there during visit 1. Once again, each of the offerings were satisfying - with the standout being a very unique appetizer of ravioli with onion confit and oyster. Nonetheless, I can't say I was particularly wowed by anything, and for that reason, I doubt I'll be returning in the near future. (Click on the menu to enlarge)

Next up, one of my favorites, L'Agrume. I earlier promised I wouldn't review L'Agrume again - in that case, twice was enough - so this isn't a review, just a quick glance. Out of our several visits, Co. & I found this visit to come up a bit short with chef Franck Marchesi-Grandi rather heavy on the light with the first two courses consisting of Burratina cheese and tomato pulp followed by a mousseline de topinambour. The highlight clearly consisted of the poached langoustines - small bloated but light langostines - a real marvel. Dessert was largely forgettable.

Finally, a second visit to Le Chateaubriand, and this did not disappoint. I really like this place, boisterous and noisy, a steady flow of diverse diners and energetic, witty and young waitpersons, and one surprise after another as the multiple courses ebb and flow before you. Highlights here consisted of the red tuna, turnip, and radish dish, as well as an apparently simple lait ribot which edged us into dessert territory. Unfortunately, reserving proved to be more challenging this second time around, and if there is one problem I have with Le Chateaubriand's multiple dishes is that once some dishes get your taste buds going, the offering is gone. In other words, sometimes copious is not a bad thing (hint).

There you have it, Le Chateaubriand wins the retro tour, with L'Agrume coming in runner up. You can't go wrong at either venue. And now, with the exception of a long overdue detour to Les Magnolias, out with the old and in with the new - coming next: JaJa and Septime!

RINO
46, rue Trousseau
75011 Paris
tel.: 01 48 06 95 85
web: www.rino-restaurant.com

L'AGRUME
15, rue des fosses St-Marcel
Paris 5
tel. 01 43 31 86 48

LE CHATEAUBRIAND
129 Avenue Parmentier
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 57 45 95

Kei - Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

2011-09-02T17:28:00.000-07:00

Formerly the table of Gerard Besson, now home to the precise, elegant haute cuisine of Ducasse-trained Kei Kobayashi, albeit in a funereal setting.

Thus reads le Fooding's English introduction to Kei restaurant, a short walk from Les Halles in the center of Paris, and a rather early toast to the fading summer nights and re-entry into real Parisian life, because you know we are all zombies during the summer. My tan is fading! So Co. and I decided to start off with a bang by hitting the Japanese fusion spot of the moment, still somewhat under the radar - not discovered yet by the New York Times even, so the place was filled with real-life Parisians during our Friday evening visit. Funereal is one way to put it, sterile and austere is perhaps a more polite way of describing the rather cold white room, bereft of any wall adornments or musical accompaniment. Rather roomy given the spacey separation of tables, which I would estimate, comfortably sits about 30. Wrapped scroll-like on the table was a sheet of paper that when unfolded did not, much to my chagrin, hint at what was to come, simply informing the diner of two choices: composition 1 (85€) or composition 2 (95€) with 'viandes au choix' (your choice of meats). What is a person to do with all this information?!

Well, as it were, I did some research before setting out and quickly learned nothing about what dishes to expect, only that the difference between the two fixed menus was six or eight courses. When you're already starting off at 85€ per person not including wine, it's a no-brainer to ante in another 10€ for the two additional plates, which is precisely what we chose. Now the way I look at it, when I'm spending that kind of money, I would like to know how the meal is going to unfold, but Kei is one of those places that assumes we are all 8 years old and love surprises!! So nothing was forecast, only revealed, one by one. Kei also is one of those places where the waiter brings the plate and then mumbles as quickly as possible what it consists of and then leaves. For yours truly, who always must do a fine balancing act between gulping wine, understanding the French-speaking waiter, and trying to remember so I can write about it later, I found myself particularly challenged at Kei. I gamely tried to hear again what that Japanese tidbit was topping the sorbet and crab amuse bouche #2 (the first photo below), so I inquired one of the young staff who brought our water. He said he'd find out. Whoops, not a good thing. For a restaurant with high ambitions like Kei, shouldn't we expect each waitperson to be fully informed of the evening's repast? A little pre-game huddle with chef Kei Kobayashi before the opening whistle? Yes, I think.

So finding myself immensely overmatched, I just sat back and enjoyed the meal and let the photos speak for themselves. Let me just say Chef Kobayashi is an artiste, as the composition of each course surely attests, with the subtle application of perfumes and spices, foam, and flowers, the latter echoing the Nordic influence of chez Noma et al. We opted for a Corsican red at 43€, an Orenga di Gaffory 2004.

So the lowdown. I can't get rid of a distinct feeling of letdown by the Kei experience. I kept thinking, such beautifully presented food should knock me out. I'll be savoring the memory of each dish for decades to come! But alas, I would have to say that there was not a single dish that really scored among the eight dishes, two amuse bouches, and a throw-in third desert. Well, I take that back, I had a pretty lusty interaction with that throw-in dessert, especially the rich, rich, buttery caramel (the last photo below). But I think Chef Kobayashi was aspiring to something a lot higher than that. True, the pigeon (in lieu of the lamb) was delicate and very tasty, and the fish had a nicely croustillant skin and succulent meat. The blue lobster was meaty and tasty. All very nice, but nothing super fantastic. For a bill that totaled 239€ for the two 8-course menus, bottle of wine (43€), and bottle of water (6€) (no post-meal cafes this time), I expect way more bang for my buck (or euro). Hell, throw in another 100€ and you've got a brand new ASUS Transformer tablet PC (I can't wait for it to arrive!). I appreciated KK taking the time to come out of his kitchen to chat with us as we were leaving, asking what we liked, etc. That says something.

So here you go - my photos in the order in which the dishes were served, and sorry for the blurry ones. Check out the photos at Kei's website and you'll see what I mean about KK the artiste.

KEI
5, rue Coq Heron
75001 Paris
tel.: 01 42 33 14 74
website

Going Natives: Wally Fay and Lao Lane Xang 2

2011-08-19T17:39:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again and the natives are going, going, gone. During past Augusts I have lamented the Parisian mass migrations to beaches and other sun-drenched locales in the hinterlands during August, even though an ersatz beach has now come to Paris, running along the Seine. I'll spare the reader my typical complaints, save the fact that beginning in early August I tried to reserve at ten of Mortstiff & Co's old reliables and, reliably enough, they were all closed for the 'conges d'été' until at least the last week of the month. I will also mention that our neighborhood ice cream parlor is also closed during August. That is not a misprint. I'll leave you to muse on that one.

Never fear, there are enough ethnic venues in the capital to leave the hungry warrior well-fed until life starts up again in September. First stop was the highly touted Senegalese restaurant Wally Fay, and it did not disappoint. If you enjoy consulting lefooding.com's regular feature 'Leurs restos preferes,' where each week three noted personalities with ties to France reveal their top three preferred restaurants, you'll notice that Wally Fay pops up periodically, as it did for Israeli singer-songwriter Yael Naim. That's how I found out about the unpretentiously hip African venue in the 11th. As lefooding's guide put it:

Superb place, mix between inn and loft. African cuisine without a Jimmy Clegg trip. Quite subtle food, mix between continental and West Indies’.

A tasteful soul/funk soundtrack (from Aretha to Fela) and dark woodsy decor, replete with discarded old primary school chairs and amiable waitstaff, Co. & I had a laid back reintroduction to some African/Antilles spices. We split an entree of gratin de crabe, a mainstay in just about any Antilles restaurant in Paris, but this is one that for once woke up my taste buds, nice chunks of crab included (9€).

I went with the national Senegalese fish dish, "Thiep bou dien," the most expensive item on the menu at a mere 19€. This kept reminding me of a N. African couscous, minus the grain - a dish of tasty short-grained red rice and a quarter of lime accompanied this dish of vegetables (carrots, turnips, eggplant) and a nice thick slab of grouper fish (I think) smothered in a tomato-based sauce endowed with various African spices (colombo, etc.).

Co. opted for N'dole boeuf, a delicately spiced melange of beef and spinach cooked with a barely detectable peanut butter (17€). The aloco de cote d'ivoire (6€) side dish seemed like a good choice for an accompaniment and as far as I'm concerned, this was the highlight of the meal. A dish of chopped banana plantains cooked in red palm oil, these were delicate, non-oily, and addictive (6€).

The plates were copious enough, and the dessert menu didn't spark much interest, perhaps as is the wont in such restaurants. The entree came with a tiny little separate serving of a spicy hot sauce, and it was not shy. Dinner was washed down with a 22€ Bourgueil, selected from a sparse list scrawled on a wall-sized chalkboard. To sum up, back in the day, Co. and I tried several African restaurants in town and nothing really caught our fancy. Wally Faye definitely may be the ticket. I'm definitely going back to check out those jumbo shrimp Creole next time.

Despite the attentiveness of our waiter, I must admit our mutual butchering of the French language limited our dialogue to such an extent that I decided not to ask, "Why Wally Fay?" The only Wally Fay I ever heard of is the Jack Carson character in the 1945 Michael Curtiz film, Mildred Pearce. Mildred, played by Joan Crawford (Kate Winslet in the remake), runs her own waffles and chicken diner, but as far as I know there is no connection between the film and the Paris-based Wally Fay.

WALLY FAY
6 rue Godefroy Cavaignac
75011 Paris
tel. 01 40 24 17 79

Next stop, the Thai restaurant Lao Lane Xang 2 in the Chinatown in the 13th around Tolbiac. By the time we got to the topic of recent good meals in Parisian restaurants at a dinner reception following a friend's marriage in Versailles (hohum, somebody has to do it), the room was already spinning around from the copious glasses of champagne and wine. Yet I did manage to punch 'Lao Lane' into my iPhone, recommended by the lovely blonde lady to my left. So off Co. and I went earlier this evening, and once again we were led along the right path. A few people lingering outside waiting to be seated in the amply-size, two-tiered restaurant, a good sign. After about a 2-minute wait - for once, we hadn't reserved - we were led upstairs to a modern, finely-appointed room with obligatory elephant imagery, but one of the more pristine rooms I've seen in an Asian restaurant in Paris, and A/C!, yes we've got it in Paris, not that it was really needed - until we took in the moderately spiced cuisine, that is.

Long story short, given that the waiter quickly disposed of the bill that listed the names of our items, we started off with a salade of fruit de mer, which was a meal in itself--a couple shrimp, nice-sized scallops, and mussels-- and excellent. This was followed by two coconut and red curry dishes, one with canard and the other with six large shrimp.

When I first saw the curry dishes on a tray, I opined to Co. that 'the soups look excellent, we'll have to come back during the winter,' only to find that the 'soups' were our main dishes. Which made me jealous, because however tasty, I really wanted the sauteed dishes the guys sitting next to us seemed to be enjoying. Live and learn. But the dishes were very tasty, with various sliced vegetables included (onion, green pepper), thickened by the accompanying riz gluant.

And a couple more images from a Google search (a papaya salad and a sauteed duck dish:

You can't beat the prices at Lao Lane Xang, with most items ranging from about 7€ to 12€. Other Asian cuisines were on offer, including Vietnamese and Laotian. By the time we left, after paying a paltry 42€ including a pichet de vin rouge (8€ for 50cl), the line was now snaking along the sidewalk.

LAO LANE XANG 2
102, avenue d'Ivry
Paris 75013
tel: 01 58 89 00 00

Chalet du Parc - When In France . . .

2011-07-29T16:18:00.000-07:00

Well, it's summer--at least going by the calendar, not by the July autumnal weather--and when one lives in France, one is obliged to take at least one leisurely Sunday afternoon lunching in the country at a quaint, over-priced chalet-like restaurant near a park, then go home and paint some sunflowers or elegantly appointed country dancers and exercise to burn off all those calories you acquired during the 4-hour, multi-course lunch. So, clearly up for our national duty on what may have been the only truly sunny, temperate day in the past two months, Mortstiff and Co. took the car out of mothballs a few weekends ago, and drove approximately 30 kilometers southeast to the quaint, over-priced chalet-like restaurant near a park called, aptly enough, Chalet du Parc, located in peaceful Yerres. That it's taken me this long to write up my review suggests something about our experience. Ambience and atmosphere get high grades, but the albeit creative cooking of chef Philippe Detourbe left us somewhat unimpressed. More fairly, it was pretty good, but not especially memorable. Nonetheless, I actually took some decent photos this time, thanks to the sun, and I don't want to let the opportunity to share them fall through the cracks. Without the photos, however, I know I wouldn't have remembered a single dish if not for the carte cheat sheet.

Although the dining rooms appeared comfortable and cozy, lunch is all about eating on the terrace, which is where we were guided, in full view of the park. Genial staff, pretensions apparently on holiday, with 90% of the rest of France, though the other 10% appeared to be on the filled terrace. Here's the order of the day, rather than my having to wear out my fingers on the keyboard:

Feel free to order ala carte, but the weekend 45€ menu is the way to go, plus you'll be paying nearly twice as much if you don't. We opted for the langoustines (Co. was content) and haddock (I was disenchanted) entrees:

Both main plates hit the spot - I went with the turf (volaille) and Co. snagged the surf (merlan), both quite tasty and thumbs way up on Monsieur Detourbe's presentation. If you have any doubt as to which was which in the photos, drop me a line:

The desserts, however delectable they may appear in the photos, were decidedly underwhelming. I went traditional with the classical Paris Brest - you get what you ask for - whereas Co. almost cracked a couple teeth cracking into the white candied vacherin within which her fruits rouges nested:

There you have it. Along with a 28€ St Nicolas de Bourgueil and two expressos, the lunch totalled 126€, rather pricy for a leisurely Sunday lunch in the Parisian countryside, but you get the sun (if you're lucky), the park, the little galerie just caddy-corner to the chalet, and some nice photos. It could be worse.

CHALET DU PARC
2 rue de Concy
91330 Yerres
tel. 01 69 06 86 29
website: www.chaletdupark.fr

Note: Philippe Detourbe runs another restaurant in Paris, L'Ampere, 1 rue Ampere, 75017 Paris (tel. 01 47 63 72 05) and gives cooking classes, all detailed at his website, www.philippedetourbe.fr. Let us know what you find out if you try them.

L'Auberge de la Brie - A Tale of Two Critics

2011-06-20T17:53:00.001-07:00

Goin' up the country, east of Paris to Couilly-Pont-Aux-Dames and the Michelin starred L'Auberge de la Brie, via word of mouth and nothing else, except true to its name, Paris Restaurants and Beyond is obliged to check out the beyond from time to time. 'Beyond' in this case means heading east along the N34, past the Marne, and just after the first toll booth (2.10€), at least I think, as I was not doing the driving. I need full concentration on the meal to come and find oncoming cars a tad too distracting. Not far from the center of town, and given the size of Couilly, the center is about all there is, on a quiet street, sits the Auberge, very country-ish.

Chef Alain and Celine Pavard hold court at their unpretentiously pretentious restaurant that seats about 25-30 at mostly round tables in a finely appointed, bright room.

Always a good start, the evening quickly got off to a good start with two tasty amuses bouches - four spicey millefilles, followed by a small bowl of fois gras covered by asparagus soup, the latter of which truly caught Co's fancy. L'Auberge is not cheap by usual Paris Restaurant and Beyond standards, especially if you plan to order ala carte, although there is a very reasonably-priced 46€ four-course menu that had me tempted, with dishes like a starter of Bonbons crousti-fondants de chèvre servis tièdes,Gaspacho et dés de betteraves rouges, pointe de mascarpone (that's all one dish, by the way) and a plate of Suprême de pintade farci et gratiné au comté Asperges vertes, pommes dauphines, sauce champagne among the choices.

Instead, we compromised and opted for the 5-course (69€) and 4-course (60€) menu gourmands, me opting out of the meat course, with Ris de veau braisé au jus réduit Marmelade d'oignons au jambon Ibérico,Macaronis farcis et gratinés not my cup of tea nor the pigeon alternative: Poitrine de Pigeonneau rôtie au foie gras poêlé, Craquant de charlottes, épinards frais, rouelles d'échalote. Now even with my more psychological than physiological aversion to pigeon, I was clearly ready to take a few bites off Co's dish, and when this became evident to Mme Pavard, well, what do you know? When course three arrived, we found that two individual and copious preparations of the pigeon dish had been prepared - what turned out to be a kind of breast of pigeon sandwich - sandwiched between two rounded and thick crepes (think American pancakes) and stuffed with spinach, a very elegant dish that, sorry, wasn't exactly my cup of tea, but which really caught Co.'s fancy. Have to admit, that was a pretty classy act by M. Pavard.

As for the other courses, starting with the entrees - Co. was wowed by her foie gras dish (Foie gras de canard aux artichauts, Tube de pain de mie croustillant et émincé de Bresaola),the foie gras enhanced as it was by a terrific honeyed crust, artichoke and ham). I enjoyed my Carpaccio de lotte fumée à l'huile d'olives Picholines,Tomates séchées, caviar d'aubergines, pignons de pin - the pignons a nice touch, the thinly sliced lotte, but I don't know why, it just didn't send me to the stratosphere. Entrees followed by the fish plates: Filet de Sandre et poêlée de girolles, Ravioles de Carbonara et jus réduit de volaille for Co. and Filets de Rouget-Barbet en croûte de viennoise, Confit de fenouil aux olives de Kalamata et galettes de risotto moelleux for your's truly. Once again, Co. found her fish transplendant, whereas I was more impressed by the preparation than the memory of my rouget, the very tasty olives confit notwithstanding.

Following the pigeon(s), came the cheese, and I must admit, halfway into the fish, I think we both were already well sated, but onward we pressed! Co.'s long strip of Le Brie de Meaux farci aux noix was truly impressive, as was the cheese tray, from which I selected. Dessert was preceded by a candy store interlude as a row of varied colored marshmallow concoctions and patisseries were brought to the table (that's Michelin star territory right there), as well as a large glass sundae bowl of individually plastic-wrapped bon bons, of which I could never imagine an adult imbibing. I went the chocolate route for dessert, selecting from the Dessert menu the Tarte sablée au chocolat guanaja Servie tiède, crème glacée, chocolat liégeois "à boire" and Co. opting for the Framboises et chaud-froid de crème brûlée à la vanille, neither of which I found particularly enchanting, although I am sure Co. once again would disagree.

So there you have it, an elegant change of pace in a room that warmed up as the evening progressed. The tale of two critics should be pretty obvious by this juncture - Co. was thoroughly impressed by the whole Gestalt, whereas cranky, jaded old me ended up satisfied, having spent an enjoyable and at times surprising evening out, despite not being particularly wowed by my selections. Lest I forgot, the copious helpings of food were ably washed down by a tasty Haut Medoc Chateau Peyrabon 2001, reasonably priced at 36€. Excellent wine list, with enough under 45€ choices to keep one within budget.

L'AUBERGE DE LA BRIE
14, avenue Boulingre
77860 Couilly-Pont-Aux-Dames
tel: 01 64 63 51 80
Website: aubergedelabrie.com

Tintilou - A Work in Progress

2011-06-15T17:20:00.000-07:00

The more things change. . . after reading a couple positive reviews of Tinilou, including Heidi Ellison's Paris Update review, I started getting a feeling of deja vu when I noticed the rue de Montreuil address, and sure enough, it was the very same address of L’Aiguière, a restaurant I used to frequent, but had long forgotten about . . . at least since 30 June 2008, when I penned my not very kind review. L’Aiguière had been around for a number of years, but had obviously run its course. Fast forward to this past March when chef Jean-François Renard took over as new owner and gradually began the transition from L’Aiguière to Tintilou. And when I say 'gradually,' I mean it. Other than a complete transformation of the interior, whose now bright and bold new colors
apparently didn't touch the fancy of Ms. Ellison, there isn't a single clue as to the new restaurant's new nomenclature. "L’Aiguière" proliferates - on the menus, on the facade, on the little restaurant cards available at the entrance, and on the bill. In my view, if you're going to change your positioning - and that apparently is what the new owner has in mind, catering to a younger and more laid back clientele than its predecessor - maybe it would be a good idea to get that new name out there as bold and bright as the decor.

Before moving to the food, I have to disagree with Ms. Ellison's assessment of the new decor, which she suggests isn't to everyone's taste. So many Parisian restaurants have an overly stodgy look - L’Aiguière was awash in subdued nautical blues and whites, and the furnishings were handsome in that 'my grandmother would feel right at home here' kind of way. So kudos to M. Renard for throwing caution to the wind and brightening the place up. Apparently, he is also more than willing to take risks with the food, too, but not too boldly. Yet, it's early and I'm hoping once he settles in, the confidence will come. Co. and I opted for the 3-course 35€ fixed-price menu and, following a tasty mise-en-bouche, started off with two promising entrees: for me, the nem de rouget barbet, vinegrette ail et noix de cajou; for Co., boudon noir de Toulouse, pomme verte et crevette laquee (both pictured below).

Co. was particularly satisfied with her boudin noir, but the presentation won out over taste where my nems were concerned - actually one large nem sliced in half, evidentally much effort into the preparation, but this dish called for more taste sensations than were forthcoming, and the small bowl of cashew garlic vinegrette lacked the requisite spiciness. An interesting dish that did not totally disappoint, but it did come up short.

No photos of the main dishes: for me, a fresh Turbot, Barigoule de courgettes aux fèves et basilic Thaï, pretty good; for Co., 'la coucotte de mois', sot l'y laisse et ris de agneau cumin sesame, artichats poivrades, no platitudes for the latter. Co. opted for dessert cherries - Cerises, citronnelle, glace à « La pie qui chante »; for me, Rhubarbe, tuile dentelle abricot fraise. I had been forewarned by the reviews I consulted that the rhubarbe concoction, completely enveloped by a meringue crust, would be epic. My verdict: epic, as in very, very good.

Overall, a distinct predilection by M. Renard toward Asian fusion without losing the French traditional (another entree boasted Sardines Bretonnes, carpaccio de canard frais, guacamole).

My guess is that it's still a bit too early to tell whether Tintilou will reach the heights of the top new bistrots in Paris; it has a way to go, but the promise is there, and I will definitely check it out again during the Sept./Oct. rentree. They have some glitches to work out, that's for sure - for one, if you're going to call your new restaurant by a new name - get rid of the old one!! And, though I hesitate to mention this, it must be said - when our bill arrived, I noticed in addition to the 70€ for the two menus and 19€ for the Bourgueil, cuvée Jean Carmet, Bouvet Ladubay [by the way, the wine menu is replete with reasonably priced, interesting bottles], there was 6€ supplement. The 'supplements' are pretty common in Parisian restaurants - certain dishes that are part of a fixed-price menu may have an additional surcharge. That's not the problem. The problem during our visit is that no surcharge was indicated on the carte. That is a problem. This was confirmed when we exited and checked out the carte on display in the front. Sure enough, no supplement. Co., more courageous than myself, marched back into the restaurant to point this out. By the time I coyly followed, a waiter was already pulling 6€ in change out of the cash register. The hostess than explained that they hadn't checked the printed menu when it came back from wherever it started out from. Not a good policy, although I have a feeling they'll be more attentive to proofing the menu in the future. I notice at the website the supplement (for the coucotte de mois lamb dish, by the way) is indeed noted, only it has mysteriously increased to 7.50€. What are you goin' to do? A work in progress, indeed.

LE TINTILOU
37 bis rue de Montreuil
75011 Paris
tel.: 01 43 72 42 32
Website: http://www.tintilou.fr/

More food from the website:

Millésimes 62 - Middle of the Road

2011-06-01T16:45:00.001-07:00

What to do when you need a place to eat in close proximity to Gare du Montparnasse? Well, if you know Paris, that's kind of a stupid question, because there are eateries coming up the wazoo. But this was the situation I was in, looking for a decent, last minute spot after picking up Co. at the station. La Cerisaie would have been perfect, just a hop, skip, and a jump outside the door of the station, but if you checked my last review, you know, been there, done that, and I didn't much like it. I thought of some of the famous Montparnasse brasseries like La Coupole and Le Bistrot du Dome, but I wasn't really up for the atrocious price/quality ratio they promised.

Now, how I came upon Millesimes 62, I cannot recall, but my 2008 Pudlo Paris guide recommended it highly, to wit: "Elegant and charming, flavorsome and vinic." I ask you, who the hell says "vinic"? I read somewhere what a great guide the Pudlo is (not so humbly named after its author, Gilles Pudlowski). Let me be the first to correct that. The Pudlo may not be the worst restaurant guide I have on hand, but it's pretty close. In fact, why mince words? It's lousy. Yet, ever in need of confirmation of my numerous, strongly-held opinions, I gave benefit to the doubt and reserved at M62. Situated elegantly and charmingly in an imposing batiment at the Place de Catalogne, right down the bvd Pasteur from the station, we were vinically welcomed by the friendly maitre-d Jean-Marc. I said 'Bonjour," Jean-Marc responded in English, always a bad start for your's truly. We were guided to an artifact-rich, nicely appointed dining room, which somehow gave me the impression that I was on someone's elegant and charming yacht. I don't know what gave me that nautical impression, but there was hint of a curiously unpleasant aroma in the room, probably attributed to an overly exuberant cleaning product.

I'm afraid my memory of the meal itself, unfortunately, is not as vivid in my long-term memory as Jean-Marc, the nautical ambiance, and the weird smell. We opted, as we are wont to do, for the three course menu, modestly priced at 29€. Co. was underwhelmed by her crumble de chevre chaud, sirop a la tomate. I fared better with a tartare de saumon. As for the main plates, check out my award-winning accompanying photos. To tell you the truth, I can't remember what the hell Co. ordered, nor can she, but I think it is very probable that she partook of the poitrine de canard roti, carmel d'epices. Whatever, her main dish came in a nice little container, with a nice boring half tomato on the side. I am afraid that her selection was neither flavorsome nor vinic. I selected the filet de bar a la plancha, courgettes confites (with a 1€50 supplement, quoi?). I remember the rather crispy skin of the fish and the rather tasty meat, but for some reason I had the impression it was taking me forever to finish the damn dish. I kept talking, eating, and drinking, as per habitude, yet the fish never seemed to diminish in size. There were desserts, and whatever they were, I'm sure they were okay. Co's impression of the whole Gestalt was decidedly more negative than mine, but basically let's just say the meal was nothing to write home about, wherever home may be. Too bad, because the Millesimes team really seem to be making a concerted effort to succeed. The aforementioned aroma notwithstanding, they've got an elegant and charming, and perhaps at times vinic, bar and dining room, they offer money-off discounts online, and the staff is friendly enough. Now if they could just do something to perk up the food, they might be on to something. (The bill: 87.50€, including a 28€ bottle of St Nicolas Bourgueil.)

May was a washout for me keeping up this blog, but a few eating experiences to point out before bringing this installment to a close. I'm not much of a lunch guy when it comes to dining out, yet circumstance--some non-French visitors during the month--required that I scope out a few spots in unfamiliar quarters for lunch. My research pointed me to two venues that more than proved to be up to the task. The first was just off the Champs-Elysee, near the Etoile, and around where my visiting companion was holed up in a 600€/night hotel. Not far away I found the small bistrot Oscar (still referred to as Bistrot Bizet in outdated guidebooks). We had a nice private table next to the opened facade, kind of half in/half out and had a very satisfying three-course lunch menu, a bit pricey at about 35€ per person with two glasses of wine a piece, but copious, and as I have always advised, if you can afford a 600€/night hotel room, you can afford a 35€ lunch. Oscar proved to be everything an extended lunch (over two hours) in Paris is supposed to be.

The second worthy lunch of note was around the eastern edge of Paris in the 20th, La Boulangerie. Just in town from the US left coast's sunny California via NYC to an overcast Paris, my companion and myself ambled over to La Boulangerie, one of those spots that has long been on my 'to do' list since Time Out Paris used to have a little English section in Pariscope. La Boulangerie met all the necessary requirements for a welcome to Paris lunch--a genial staff and full house, and well prepared three-course menu. Affordably priced 17€ menus, three glasses of wine, and two cafes came to a measly 54.50 for two. With savings like that, you'll have plenty left over to check out that 600€ hotel, if that's your cup of tea.

Just to add,the highlights of the month of May were two dinners at a couple favorites: La Gazzetta and Le Gaigne. Go there now.

MILLÉSIMES 62
Sandrine & Stephane Savorgnan
13/15 place de Catalogne
75014 Paris
tel. 01 43 35 35 35
website

OSCAR
6, rue de Chailoot
75116 Paris
tel. 01 476 20 26 92

LA BOULANGERIE
15 rue des Panoyaux
75020 Paris
tel. 01 43 58 45 45

La Cerisaie - Smaller Than a Breadbox

2011-04-20T16:48:00.000-07:00

Co. and I walked into a telephone booth last Friday night and found La Cerisaie, a much-praised traditional French Southwest bistro, snugly situated in the shadow of the Montparnasse tower. I've often lamented about the various size-challenged Parisian eateries I've reviewed here, but it goes with the territory. Paris real estate is expensive and at a premium - you take what you can get. But for La Cerisaie's space, a 'no thanks' might have been more appropriate for the proprietors, chef Cyril Lalanne and his wife, the latter of whom was literally breathing down my neck throughout the entire meal as she maneuvered her way towards the diners to my left. And that's all too bad, because we could never get very comfortable, however deeply we delved into the 2007 Corbiere (29€) and however pleasant the demeanor of Mme Lalanne. And when you're not comfortable, you find that you're not paying much attention to the food.

At any rate, the regularly changing blackboard menu consisted of about 5 offerings each of 9€ entrees, 15-20€ plates, and 9€ desserts. Everything was very Southwest and decently prepared, with Co. opting for the starter of soupe froid de petit pois et jambon arieges, while I went with the saumon mousse, the latter a rare concoction that provided a nice little puddle for the bread. I rather enjoyed my main dish, a magret d'oie et poivre roti aux epice, several slices of goose enhanced by the peppery flavor; Co. was less enthusiastic about her couchon noir de bigorre avec asperges blancs. Jesus, black pig? There should be a law.

As Co. plied workmanlike through her poelee de frais gariguettes et glace nouget, I was pretty much knocked out by what to the eye looked like a rather ordinary slice of tarte fondante au chocolate accompanied by a scoop of glace cafe. Taste-wise, however, wow. The sweet blend of chocolate and coffee left a tinge of salt on the palette. Definite highlight of the evening.

In short, our experience at La Cerisaie didn't soar to the heights suggested by the raves I came across prior to reserving, particularly in two of my favorite restaurant resources, Le Fooding and A. Lobrano's Hungry for Paris. If you're just emerging out of the Montparnasse station with a healthy hunger for authentic Southwestern cooking and don't want to walk far, La Cerisaie might be just the ticket. Of course, you best be sure to reserve beforehand, otherwise, no way Jose. (You have two choices - 7:30 and 9:30 p.m.) Unless there is an expansion in the offing, I won't be returning, however. I have enough of spending two hours feeling like I'm in somebody's way. When asked by a patron at the next table why she doesn't find a larger space, Mme Lalande admitted that a larger venue would be too much work, reflecting the desire to keep La Cerisaie a basic mom & pop's organization.

LA CERISAIE
70, boulevard Edgar Quinet
75014 Paris
tel.: 01 43 20 98 98
no website

Not So Frenchie

2011-03-25T18:34:00.000-07:00

Given the effusive reviews and significant buzz about Frenchie dating back to 2009, I finally was able to snag a table for two last Friday night. That magical triumvirate of Spring, Yam' Tcha, and Frenchie, three of the most talked about contemporary bistrots on the Paris restaurant scene over the past couple of years, makes for a heady challenge just to get through the door. To date, I still haven't succeeded at getting a reservation at Spring, although I haven't been trying too hard after the last phone conversation I had while trying to book - 'Table? You want a table? At Spring? Do you think we actually allow diners into our sacred batiment? Ha! surely you jest monsieur.' Or something like that.

Long story short, it wasn't that difficult to get that table at Frenchie, at least when asking for the reservation a solid two months in advance. Viola, nothing to it. The problem is, I expected a very special experience (only a week earlier L'Agrume's chef Monsieur Marchesi-Grandiand included Frenchie among his preferred Paris venues), but what I ended up getting was, 'uh, not so bad, actually pretty good.' Voted the Fooding 2009 du meilleur cuisinier (best cook award), chef Greg Marchand, from Nantes to New York City (including a stint at Gramercy Tavern) to Paris kept peering out from the spatially-challenged kitchen in the back of the diminutive stone and red brick duplex dining area, as if to get some sort of confirmation that he was on the right track. A couple tables away, I gave him a polite nod and smile, which seemed to satisfy him enough to send him scampering back to the kitchen.

Frenchie is one of those places - at least on the basis of me and Co.'s Friday night visit - where you hear English being spoken as soon as you pass the threshold, where waitresses answer in English even though you ('you' being me with my pitiful accent) make an effort to speak in French. The menu was printed on a sheet of paper, which self-destructs in one week - that is, different menu every week. Here's what was on tap (click on the menu if it isn't totally readable):

The foie gras torchon, agrumes was a 14€ addition, served as a fine start to the meal, a savory wedge of foie gras with accompanying dollop of citrus fruit jam and toasted bread. I don't know, this must be the period of the mackerel in France, with that otherwise unappetizing fish serving prominently in various guises as an entree, the night before at Le Villaret (as a mackerel press with far too many carrots), and at Frenchie with cauliflower and pickels. Monsieur Marchand's maquereau fume elevated the lowly status of that fish, although I'm not sure why he chose to call two miniscule circles of marinated carrots as 'pickles.' Meanwhile, Co. pondered where on earth the lardo di colonnata was hidden in her salade tiede de legumes. Her assessment of the papardelle, ragout d'agneau was similarly less than inspired. I couldn't fault my well-prepared, fresh pieces of merlu de ligne - the flavor of the two halves of a walnut rounding out this round pretty effectively. No complaints around the table for the panacotta, avocat, chocolat dessert, which was satisfyingly orgasmic. All washed down with a Penedes Indigena red, priced at a reasonable 30€.

In short, the meal was very good, but far short of memorable. Marchand eschews rigorous sauces, and his dishes are Italian and, to lesser extent, American inspired, with the addition of variously subtle ingredients. Although the room is satisfyingly urban/rustic, I could have done without the buffoon at the next table who was opining at a relatively constant rate at a decibel level that was more appropriate for a football match, in some bizarre language that I pegged as Eastern European and Co. dubbed Danish. But that was the rare exception in the largely English-speaking dining area. Strangely enough, when we arrived on time for our 7:30 pm reservation, the dining area was nearly full, something you rarely see at the notable Parisian bistrots. Given the 38€ three-course ever-changing menu, there's no reason not to give Frenchie a second chance, but I have a feeling I won't be trying too hard to get that elusive reservation next time.

FRENCHIE
5 rue du Nil
Paris 75002
tel. 01 40 39 96 19
Video (with Greg Marchand interview)

L'Agrume - (Re)View From the Front

2011-03-12T14:30:00.001-08:00

Okay, I promise this is my last review of L'Agrume, one of Mort & Co.'s current favorites...until further notice. Having waited too long to reserve a table, we were offered a couple stools at the counter overlooking chef Franck Marchesi-Grandi's one-man show in the restaurant's open kitchen. A bit hesitant, I took comfort from Margaret Kemps' Bonjour Paris blog, where she wrote:

L'Agrume is the talk of the town, “did you eat at the counter?” the key question. Fib if you have to, the whole repas won't cost what you'd pay for starters at Robuchon's Atelier.

So to the counter we went, and it was a treat. The food, as usual, was more than up to snuff. I've already written about how good the food is, so I won't repeat myself, but as usual, we couldn't resist the 37 euro menu degustation which, a couple Friday evenings ago, consisted of the following:

Tartare de dorade lie a la chair de tourteau - Citron et radi noir
(Sea bream tatar mixed with crab flesh - Lemon and horseradish)

Pommes - Charlotte - Celeri et ecume de truffe noire
(Small potatoes with celery root and black truffle cream)

Pave de bar poche - Etuvee de poireaux et ecume fumee
(Poached sea bass with leeks and smoked foam)

Poitrine de cochon fermrotie - Mousseline de carottes et condiment moutarde
(Roasted farm pork breast with carrot puree and mustard and herbs condiment)

Pomelos - Concombre et banane - Mousse de chocolat blanc et feuilletage
(Grapefruit - Cucumber and banana - White chocolate mousse and puff pastry)

(Come to think of it - cucumber, fruit or vegetable?)

To talk or not to talk? - that was the question, but once the chattier other couple to our right at the counter (which seats only four) started chipping in a few comments/questions for Monsieur Marchesi-Grandi, so did we. I assumed he was pretty much on automatic pilot, with most of the preparation having been taken care of prior to showtime. The other couple, convinced, to my chagrin, that my former town Boston is the most European American city - don't ask (obviously they'd never spent any time in Roxbury or S. Boston) - opted for ala carte choices, offering more opportunities to watch the chef at work, preparing Les 6 huitres roses super speciales No. 2 de L'Etang de Thau (The 6 super special pink oysters No.2) - not much to do there, but they definitely looked super, Pates 'Gnocchi Napolitains' truffe noire - creme - parmesan et jambon blanc (Napolitano gnocchi pasta with black truffle -cream - parmesan and white ham), among other tantalizing delights.

And what came out of the customer - cooking genius banter? Some fun discussion of favorite restaurants (thumbs up for Les Magnolias, La Gazzetta, Yam'Tcha, Frenchie, and Ze Kitchen Galerie, but down for Atelier Joël Robuchon, the latter considered too much of a factory for FMG's taste). Monsieur Marchesi-Grandi is also not very fond of New York City - a great place to hone his craft (which he did), but he wouldn't want to live there (so he left). And this mind-blowing revelation - he changes the menu degustation every day, according to personal whim and what he comes upon at the market each morning. What did I learn from a culinary perspective? When the poitrine de cochon is too hot to the touch, use prongs; foam rules; one can do amazing things with two tablespoons, one in each hand; and host Karine Perrin wears a killer perfume.

L'AGRUME
15, rue Des Fosses Saint-Marcel
75005 Paris
tel.: 01.43.31.86.48

Aux Deux Amis - Is That a Herring On the Floor or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

2011-02-26T15:42:00.001-08:00

Following two immensely satisfying return visits to La Table D'Eugene (but was it us four English speaking diners that led to the 25€ 'mistake' charged for the wine?) and Lilane (a hidden gem if ever there was one), it was time for something completely different, as in the retro-hipster wine bar Aux Deux Amis, unimposing facade sitting right there on rue Oberkampf for all to pass without a double-take. Nonetheless, ADA caught my attention when it won Le Fooding's 2010 award for 'Meilleur Petit Luxe'- best small luxury, a clever and not inaccurate way of describing this tiny little bistro. To wit, here's Le Fooding's English synopsis in a nutshell:

'Take a 70's-like bistro, put smart wines on the counter, cook classic radishes or modern wasabi codfish, add a former waiter of Le Chateaubriand: you get the perfect new food hang-out of the year.'

Well, as it turns out, I obviously wasn't the only one for whom that assessment struck a resounding chord. By the time the Moose and I arrived at an early 7:30 p.m. on a Wednesday evening, the place was packed with young and up Parisians, some sitting, some standing, but about as jam-packed as a small storefront bistrot can be. The entire interior seemed to be wallpapered in mirrors, bathed in yellow flourescence. It took about 15 minutes for us to be guided to the back - and when I say guided, I mean, a narrow path was cleared so that we could traverse the room - no, it's not there - back to the front, yep, there it is, your reserved table, between the window and the long marble bar. I should add, 'table' is probably an exaggeration - the little round cafe table was more of a nightstand, but neither Moose nor I was phased to the least, having imbibed a few whiskeys at that little Rhum Marin bar on rue St. Maur between ave. Republique and Oberkampf, where, you won't believe this, the laid-back owner plays some decent jazz compilations.

It didn't take long to be served at ADA, even given the tumultuous atmosphere. We started with three tapas dishes picked randomly after the waiter read the list of about 12 possibilities from his little scratchpad: piquillos, moules, and St. Jack panais. A pot of vin rouge (19€) arrived when the bartender stretched out to reach our table--as it turned out, our food arrived in similar fashion--which was a lot more sensible than asking our waiter to make any more trips to our table than one could humanly navigate through the crowd. (It was only later that I noticed that the 'carte' was scrawled on one of the mirrors next to the bar, but have a look at the adjoining photo and tell me if you could have ordered from that.) The wine and three tapas plates and bread challenged the miniscule table more than one should have asked, but we managed a fine balancing act and thoroughly enjoyed round one. Simple dishes, but fine quality, with a little bit of panache thrown in by whoever prepared the dishes. About midway through the food and wine, Moose sat back contentedly and, taking in the room, just cooed, 'This is why I love this city.' I know what he meant.

By the time I circumnavigated my way back from the 'rooms', I was happy to see that Moose had taken the initiative to order round two, which again consisted of three choices: Hareng pomme a l'huile, bourrata tapas (a very tasty and fresh Italian cheese, made from mozzarella and cream), and a salade de choux. I should explain, Moose and I were going moitie-moitie on each of these dishes, so when it was my turn to have a go at the herring, I looked at the plate and immediately wondered where my half of the herring was. When Moose explained that it was actually lying on the floor under the table, it was at that point that I realized that our functionally-challenged table had met its match. Nonetheless, the remaining garnishes were very tasty, and another day, I am sure, I will be able to taste the accompanying herring. The tally for two pitchers of wine and six tapas selections came to a reasonable 70.50€.

An inexpensive prix-fix lunch gives way to a tapas-style dinners, so if you're looking for more of a sit-down full-course meal, lunch is your better bet. Still, if you want a truly Parisian experience, go for the evening's tapas. It's not haute cuisine, but I don't think you'll regret it. And go when it's packed and jammed, because, well, it's just more fun that way.

AUX DEUX AMIS

45 rue Oberkampf
75011 Paris
tel. 01 58 30 38 13
website: none

La Gazzetta- Déjà Vu, All Over Again

2011-01-24T14:15:00.001-08:00

Whatever you do, make sure you get to La Gazetta before their current dinner menu changes. Don't worry, if you can't reserve in time, I'm sure the next menu will be equally intriguing, and then you can comment about it and tell me what I missed. Touché.

This was my second visit - you can read my more effusive October 2010 reactions here - and the restaurant continues with its dinner option of 5 (39€) or 7 (52€) dishes - throw caution to the wind and go for the larger menu - at that price, you won't be disappointed. Have a look:

The large scallop in its shell smothered in lentils got the proceedings off to a nice start - why don't we see that combination more often, as it definitely works. Mackerel is not much my cup of tea, no matter how prepared, but the second dish proved to be a fascinating experiment. The pistou de celeri was more complex than it looked, simplicity at first glance - a tepee-like construction of steamed brocoli hiding a magical concoction of apricots, vinegar, and pistachio. Chef Petter Nilsson clearly hit his stride by the main courses, a nice slab of langoustine meat with grilled pear and white turnip, followed by slightly cooked beef and endives (for Co.) and lotte and endives (for myself)- perfectly cooked and memorable. (Co. had to wince when she overhead the young foreign woman at the nearby table send the beef back as too rare - I thought I heard chef Nilsson scream 'Sacre bloody bleu' from the kitchen, but maybe I just imagined it.) Those great heights were tempered by the two more subtle, but equally pleasing dishes that rounded out the evening.

Couldn't resist the Rayos Uva 2009 Rioja (31€), which was a preferred wine of the moment on the previous menu.

La Gaz's lunch menu bears a decidedly different look, one that is more tapas oriented (16€, with some supplements), along with an intriguing pizza margherita. Definitely worth checking out.

In short, two thumbs way up for this second visit to La Gazzetta, which continues to enchant with imaginative dishes.

LA GAZZETTA
29, Rue de Cotte
75012 Paris
tel. 01 43 47 47 05
Website

Le Gaigne - Good Things Come in Small Packages

2011-01-15T18:36:00.000-08:00

My first visit to Le Gaigne last August had that ‘we’re closing for vacation tomorrow and may never come back’ feel about it, which is why I relegated the restaurant to my honorable mention list for 2010 but no higher. I vaguely remember at least half the tables unoccupied, an above average though not particularly exceptional meal, and not much more except for the suspicion that no one really had their heart in it. Well, last night’s return visit left a distinctly different impression – a restaurant nearly at the top of its game, full-speed ahead, damn the torpedoes mode.

When I say that good things come in small packages, I mean that literally - Le Gaigne’s storefront restaurant on the quiet rue Pecquay off the far busier Rambuteau is so small, that squeezing into it and your place at the table is not unlike trying to zip up your tightest pair of jeans after binging during the Xmas season. I counted seating capacity at about 20, with the distinct impression there were twice as many diners. Each time another couple of patrons entered what I thought (my back to most of the other tables) was a filled to capacity room, I was afraid the damn place was going to burst. All those winter coats and other rainy, gloomy January accessories (umbrellas, scarves, etc.) added to the bloated feel, which is probably why things felt a lot airier in the summer. But it wasn’t just that, everything looked and felt more elegant than it had during the first trip - the seating, the lighting, the spiral staircase leading to the cave just to my left, a precarious juxtaposition two-thirds into the bottle of the Co.-preferred light but tasty 2008 Anjou Village Rouge - Chateau la Francaie (21€).

The 5-course menu dégustation (42€) could not be forsaken - after checking on line, I noticed I missed out on last month's, which looked even better, but ended on Jan. 10. As it turns out, I doubt if it could have surpassed what we ended up with; to wit:

1. Tartelette d'endives parfumées au citron de Sicile, chèvre meringué
2. Gougère aux escargots du pré de Mme Liège à la sauce soubise, salade de laitue, crème d'ail rose
3. Saint-Jacques d'Erquy poêlées au beurre de thym, royale de crabe à l'encre de
seiche, purée de topinambour
4. For Co.: Queue de Boeuf (origine France) braisée au vin rouge, cassolette de
navets boule; for me: Suprême rôti de Chapon fermier du Gers, sa cuisse en
bonbon croustillant, légumes racines et potiron d'or et carottes de couleur à la
marjolaine
5. Nuage de Brie de Meaux, mesclun aux noisettes (Supplément 3€)
6. La Pomme dans tous ses états

It's difficult to say which dish was the more memorable, but I had the distinct impression the meal sort of built to a crescendo by #4. I was wowed by the roti de chapon, very succulent, the taste enhanced by the cubed vegetables spiced with marjoram and nested inside a hollowed-out miniature pumpkin, but the pan fried Saint-Jacques (scallops) were an inspiration, cooked in squid ink and mired in a puree of Jerusalem artichoke. I detected a couple of states missing in the dessert promising the apple in all its states, but the multi-tiered oval of cooked and raw apple hit the spot.

Co. and I shared the supplemental (3€) cheese dish - a wisp of light, spreadable Brie and greens, if anything, the one disappointment of the evening in terms of the food. There were a couple other downsides which bear mention - no amuse bouche, a miscue in my book. And although the pace of delivery of our plates began to slow as the evening progressed and the sole, young, comely blond server began to attend to latecomers, the wait became so interminable between the cheese and dessert that I was wondering if Waiting for Godot shouldn't have been titled Waiting for Giagnon (the 27-year-old chef Mickaël Giagnon). The table of four Americans to my right received increasing attention as they ordered their third or fourth bottle of wine. I guess that's understandable, c'est la vie.

The bill for two menu degustation (definitely the way to go in my humble opinion), plus wine and cheese (for one) came to par for the course: 108€ - a bargain that any reasonable fooding fan should not let pass.

LE GAIGNE
12 rue Pecquay
75004 Paris
tel: 01 44 59 86 72
website: http://restaurantlegaigne.fr
Closed: Sunday & Monday

Paris Bests 2010 - Mortstiff Opens the Envelopes

2011-01-01T08:19:00.000-08:00

Where were my all-around most satisfying Paris restaurant experiences in 2010? I’m glad you asked. Here they are, more or less in order of preference. Each links to the more complete reviews. Three-way tie for number 5 – these were restaurants that may not have been at the starry-eyed Michelin level, but where I had some really tasty meals and I want to go back in 2011. Good enough.

Top Five (or Seven)

1. L'Agrume – best smile in Paris, surprising fixed menus,
great price/quality. Two trips, both equally great.

2. Le Chateaubriand – I said it before, I’ll say it again – best meal I had all year in a Paris restaurant. Hip and noisy (the atmosphere), multi-course meal with plenty of experimentation and unique ingredients. Possible to get a table! Possible to get a table!

3. La Gazzetta - Rounds out my favorite fixed-menu triumvirate, fresh offbeat combinations – sea urchin and beet, oysters under crushed tomato. Take me back, sweet viginie.

4. Rino – Not the pinnacle as I had been led to expect, but still the best rouget I’ve ever had. Some work on dessert and who knows how high we go next time.

5. Lilane / Fabrique 4 / La Beure Noisette – decisions, decisions:
Lilane for being so unexpectedly good and laid back.
Fabrique 4 for its potential.
La Beure Noisette for the old-timey bistrot feel – we got in the last day before their renovation, so the return should be revealing.

Honorable Mentions

Yam ‘Tcha – Innovative, fresh cooking with an Asian twist. Would have made
top five (or eight?) if they hadn’t kicked us out in the pouring rain to wait and if they hadn’t dramatically raised their prices as soon as they got that star. Rename Yam ‘Tsk?

La Table d’Eugene – I know it was good, but not as memorable as my first visits there.

Le Gaigne - see above. Very good meal near Beaubourg, I'm just sorry I don't remember it better.

Ze Kitchen Galerie – Would have been listed if I had actually eaten there in 2010. Shocked to realize I never got around to it. That will be corrected in ’11.

Biggest Disappointments -better luck next time . . . if there is a next time.

Pramil - Rated at TripAdvisor as number 14 out of 6354 restaurants in Paris. It's good, but it's not that good. I would go so far as to say nothing to write home about. I did write, to TripAdvisor, and they quickly pulled my critique. Boo to TripAdvisor and their censors.

L'Aromatik - They try, but my ears are still ringing from the din, and the bloody summer heat reminds me of an evening spent in hell.

Au Petit Marguery - just couldn't get into those wild birds.

Random Bit(e)s
Lafayette Gourmand, Blvd Haussmann - a mind-boggling cornucopia of colors and aromas, including two of my favorite spots in Paris:

Best Take-Away Thai - Blue Elephant stand at the food court. You'll want one of everything. They also have a chain of restaurants in major world cities. The one in Paris is at 43-45 rue de la Roquette (Bastill) - worth a visit?

Best Alcohol Selection - Bibliotheque du Vin, Lafayette Gourmand, Blvd Haussmann.
Why they stopped carrying my favorite single malt, Bunnahabhain, I do not know, but there are many alternatives. And where else can you purchase a bottle of Remy Martin cognac Louis XIII dans sa carafe for a mere 29,080€?

Beyond Good Taste - Worst Foodie Gift-Giving Ideas

2010-12-21T05:48:00.000-08:00

What with Xmas and the New Year just around the corner, time to take a brief hiatus from the restaurant review scene. This is a moment for pigging out at home. And I've begun to do my share, with the traditional (smoked salmon, multi-fish terrines, escargot drenched in persil butter, mini feuilletes of black olive, etc.) and non-traditional (Mortstiff's famous spicy fish chowder, etc.), not to mention the glutinous buches de noel beckoning from the freezer and copious varieties of beverages to wash all this down.

But if you've waited until the last minute for your annual gift-buying spree, there are numerous items of note that are available for the avid food and dining enthusiast, from books (such as Rene Redzepi's Noma: Time and Place in Nordic Cuisine) to kitchen appliances, like the inexpensive Capresso frothPRO milk frother I just purchased. The frother works great, although once I translated the customer reviews from the German site from which I ordered it, I'm a bit hesitant to recommend it as a gift - apparently, I can expect a lifespan of about five weeks before the thing goes kaput.

But from my experience, you definitely can't go wrong with the simple gift of a bottle. For example, I would not say no to a 21-years aged PortWood bottle of The Balvenie.

There are also plenty of items out there to avoid at all costs as possible gifts, unless you really, really don't like the person for whom you are buying it. Some amusing examples from Robert Sietsema's Village Voice column Our 10 Worst Foodie Xmas Presents. I've posted below some of the more noteworthy examples - you can check out all 10 at the Sietsema link.

Awful Gift #9: Chocolate Bathroom Scale, uncommongoods.com

This actual bathroom scale bears images of succulent chocolates, which should make your gift recipient really pleased each time that person checks out his or her weight. Worse, instead of pounds or kilos, there is a graduated list of obnoxious phrases like 'I'm so amazing.'

Awful Gift #7: Banana Stand, curiousphotos.blogspot.com

I must admit, if I ever received this luxurious banana holder as a gift, I would be torn as to where to put it - in the kitchen or in a place of prominence in the living room. Can you say trash can?

Awful Gift #4: Funny Chef Outfit, justotc.com

What I would like to know is what is so funny about a stupid chef outfit, and who would you imagine would appreciate receiving one?

Awful Gift #3: Ms. Food Face Plate

There are no doubt many creative cooks who would love to receive something like this, which would make food presentation as simple as connect the dots, some of whom may in fact have a mental age above 4.

Awful Gift #2: Pizza Cutter Fork, curiousphotos.blogspot.com

I'm sure that on paper this 'futter' must have looked like a great idea. My guess is it would end up in the back of one's kitchen drawer within days, assuming it could fit.

Awful Gift #1: Fetus Cookie Cutter, hogmalion.com

I'm sure some expectant parents might find this cookie-cutter shaped like a days-old fetus to be an ideal gift.

Still can't decide? Here's one for honorable mention.

Happy shopping!

Le Chateaubriand - Movin' On Up

2010-12-16T16:47:00.000-08:00

That's what I'm talking about - originality, surprise, subtlety, outrageousness. What am I talking about? Last Friday night's dinner at Le Chateaubriand (let's say LC, for short), quite possibly the best meal I've had in Paris all year. LC has been on my radar for some time, but each time I came close to reserving, something held me back. 'You'll either love it or hate it!' 'Noisy and crowded!' And this one from Le Fooding: 'Impossible to get a table. Impossible to get a table: need further explanation?' And also from Le Fooding: 'Gourmet works of art.' There you have it, yin and yang, to go or not to go? Well, when someone tells me 'impossible to get a table' I immediately reach for my phone. Let's face it, if it were truly impossible, how could the restaurant make any business? And sure enough, I was offered a table two Fridays away without difficulty. 'Impossible to get a table' -don't believe it.

LC sits on a busy section of avenue Parmentier in a funky area of the 11th, and that funky atmosphere follows you into LC, an old-style Parisian bistro that once was an old-fashioned grocery, remnants of which appear in their antiquity here and there on the otherwise unadorned walls, save the obligatory chalkboards announcing the available wines by the glass. This is a roomy bistrot that starts feeling more intimate once the room fills, and believe me, it doesn't take long for the place to fill up. Nonetheless, Co. and I were ushered to a cozy corner in the back room, apart from the more hustle-bustle of the larger front room/bar area. And it does get noisy, but in a quasi-bawdy way that adds to the atmosphere, if you get my drift - this is what a Parisian bistrot is supposed to be all about.

But all that noise and crowdedness is for a reason - the evening's 50€ set menu created and prepared by chef Inaki Aizpitarte, who emanates from the French Basque country, and previously held court at La Famille. Alexander Lobrano (Hungry for Paris, Random House) put it very well when he described Aizpitarte as 'a brilliant miniaturist, composing original origami-like compositions of taste that are often potent and pretty.' Our menu for the evening was explained by a young, bearded waiter, slowly, with questions saved for the end. We started off with a set of five amuses bouche, wham bam thank you ma'am, one after the other. First up, a small plate of four gougères - savory little puff pastries, with what may have been subtly embellished by pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top. (Photo thanks to the great eye and camera of gourmet traveler.) A low-key start, with hints of the miniaturist concoctions to come. Our empty plate was soon replaced by two small bowls of cheviche with tiny scallops in their liquid, which our spunky waitress informed us should be consumed in a single gulp. Up next came a dish of two grenouille enveloped by a mysterious sauce with bread crumbs. If frog turns you off, never fear, this looked nothing like aforesaid amphibian. The string of amuses bouche continued with a bowl of miso-like bouillon with small cubes of foie gras. And that was followed up by a plate of tiny crevettes grise with berries and pineapple. Bear in mind, this was all to wet our appetite for the set dinner, which hadn't started yet! I suggested to Co. that this wouldn't be a bad time to pay for the wine (an adequate, but rather light, 36€ Bourgueil) and leave, our stomachs filled with the pre-meal tapas selection, but of course, this was solely in jest, as both us really wanted to see what was next.

What was next was a mulet noir, perles du Japon, huitre, cresson dish. My blurry photo will give you some idea, but the photo really doesn't do justice. Next, a cabillaud, pil pil, betteraves dish. Pil pil reflects the Basque origins of this recipe (i.e., the dish was prepared in a special sauce originating in the Basque country), which was highlighted by a delicate, sweet lump of beet, which really brought the steamed cod alive with flavor. Well, it's been two years that the betterave has been showing up in one way or another in finer restaurants around the world (see my Finland reviews), and when this much maligned root is cooked right, it can't be, sorry I can't resist, beat. But I'm starting to get that 'been there, done that' attitude about the beet. With 2011 right around the corner, I say, 'Next trendy vegetable, please!'

At this stage of the festivities, Co. partook of the boeuf, beurre noisette, racines offering, while I was granted an appropriately bloody portion of canard in lieu of the beef. The dish worked well with either meat, and this was just fine. Up next, two desserts, a dish of pommes, butternut, rose, obligatorily consumed before the crunchier chocolat, celeri invention. (You have the option of going with the desserts or the fromages du jour.) And that was that. Each dish reflecting the confidence and skill of the artisan in the kitchen, not a false note during the entire epic meal.

Don't take my word for it, just go. With Rino and LC under the belt this month, I feel like we're movin' on up quality-wise. Yet in both cases, the set menu approach keeps the prices down, with LC topping out at 139€, including one post-meal cafe and the wine, and how many courses, if you include the amuses bouche and two desserts? I count 10. While I also liked Rino very much, if I was stranded on a desert island and could only take one of the two bistrots with me, it would be Le Chateaubriand, hands down.

Note: other than my pitiful photo of the appetizer (Mulet noir), the other food photos from the aforementioned gourmet traveler; others from qype and The New York Times.

LE CHATEAUBRIAND
129 ave. Parmentier
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 57 45 95
website: can't find one

P.S. There's another Le Chateaubriand restaurant in Paris, in the 17th. That's not the one I'm talking about.

Today's Italo-French Genius Bistrot - Rino

2010-12-09T18:51:00.000-08:00

Out with the old, in with the new. As a follow-up to a string of return visits, Co. and I put on our trendiest clothes and headed out to the new big deal neobistrot in Paris, Rino. Like La Gazzetta, where chef/owner Giovanni Passerini previously shared cooking duties before opening his own venue, Rino boasts an inventive array of dishes a la Italian/French mode.

Outside and in, Rino is minimalistic to the core. Easy to miss from the outside, once past the bar/kitchen area, where a few stand-up tables line the opposite wall, you are ushered into a 20-seater room that looks like someone’s quickly converted garage, retro hanging lamps notwithstanding.

Be forewarned, at Rino there is no choice apart from your selection of the 4- or 6-course tasting menu, the carte held up on a slate tablet by the laid-back waiter. When I asked for the wine carte, I was informed, ‘J’ai un bon rouge vous pouvez essayer’ [I have a nice red you can try.] Apparently there is also a nice white, if that’s your preference. At 28€, the Chateau de Lacroux Gaillac held its own, and who was I to complain? It was nice not to have to fathom a largely incomprehensible wine list for a change.

Despite being recently awarded a Le Fooding palmarè as ‘meiller bistrot d’auteur,’ Co. and I cautiously selected the four-course option, skeptical as we are about anything dubbed ‘best’ by any critic, journalist, politician, or any other so-called expert that might be hanging out a sign. Not that I don’t trust the Fooding guide, but somehow their ‘what would have happened if Petter Nilsson had had a kid with Monica Belluci’ endorsement left me a bit hesitant. Our repas unfolded as such, following a welcoming amuse bouche of pumpkin petit marron: ravioles avec coques, rouget et legumes sec, an agneau dish for Co. replaced at my asking for a substitution with cabillaud et legumes, and a dessert mixture of crème, agrume, nuts, and another ingredient that I can’t read off my notes. The ravioles were very nice, like the room, minimalistically presented without much sauce; the rouget, probably the best preparation I ever have had, and I have tried rouget high and low, left and right; the cabillaud, not as epic but thoroughly satisfying. I enjoyed the dessert as the diet/cholesterol lethal mixture it was, but Co. was decidedly underwhelmed, suggesting it was pretty mundane. With two espressos to round out the evening, the bill came to a remarkably reasonable 109€.

What to conclude about Rino? The reviews are effusive, and the bistrot did win that palmarè, whatever the hell ‘meiller bistrot d’auteur’ is supposed to represent. As one reviewer put it, Passerini’s cuisine is ‘inventive and passionate’ and I would not disagree. Still, I’m not convinced Rino is yet deserving of any ‘best’ nomenclature - it is very good, but not especially spectacular (call me 'jaded'?). I’ll definitely go back, but I’m not ready to run out into the street waving my arms and screaming ‘they’re number one, they’re number one’ quite yet. Still, I have to admit, Rino offers a very appealing price/quality rapport.

Accompanying photos not mine, but glommed off other websites. Pretty representative of our dishes, however.

RINO
46, rue Trousseau
75011 Paris
01 48 06 95 85
website: http://www.rino-restaurant.com

Second Helpings

2010-12-09T17:02:00.001-08:00

Almost a month since my last installment, so a lot of catching up to do. I'll begin with some repeat visits, three to be exact. Two mainstays (Au Petit Margery and Le Marsangy) and one 'not sure' (Urbane). You'll find expanded reviews, albeit earlier ones, by following the links on the right. But without further adieu, I begin with my second visit to Urbane, this time with Co. in tow. Urbane has notoriously mixed reviews online, with one relatively consistent theme - the food doesn't always work, but when it does it's pretty interesting. That was basically my reaction during my initial visit, that time running solo. One reviewer I came across made an interesting comment about Urbane's gastronomical efforts: 'Maybe if you drink enough, the food will begin to make sense.' Right there in a nutshell could be the reason why my initial review of Urbane was on the right side of positive. Let's just say that I had more than enough to drink that evening, much more than enough, and by the time dessert arrived, the room was dancing while I was trying real hard not to pass out. To this very day, I have no idea whether I ate what I remember to be a rather tasty looking dessert. At any rate, the second, far more sober visit, left me with a decidedly different impression. Everything was pretty good, but rather uninspiring, and I needed no mind-altering substances to figure out the food, although it may have helped me understand the rather distant comportment of the Irish lass owner. Both Co. and I agreed that we could have stayed home and cooked up something at least as satisfying. Of course, at Urbane, you don't have to wash the dishes.

Next up was Au Petit Marguery, which I've reviewed a couple times now. APM is pretty much a Parisian institution, where you're likely to drag visiting family or friends and rest assured they will leave satisfied. But this time Co. & my visit coincided with hunting season and the carte was heavily laden with a rigorous assortment of wild game and birds, many with 10€ supplements added to the 35€ cost of a 3-course menu. I selected what, for me, were pretty out of the ordinary dishes, consisting of an entree of Purée de Grouse et toasts and a plat of perdreau roti avec pommes de terre sautées et sauce aux champignons sauvages. Please believe me when I say I have nothing against the grouse, although like snowflakes, I've never seen two pictures of a grouse that look alike (top image). But I can tell you, pureed grouse is definitely not my cup of tea - chopped liver, very strong chopped liver, if you get my drift. And the toasts consisted of toasted white bread, which if served consistently enough to aforementioned grouse, I am afraid the poor bugger would die of malnourishment. I fared better with the perdreau, although the very tasty mixture of sauteed potatoes and wild mushrooms overwhelmed my interest in wild bird no. 2 (right image). Very disappointing, and for my money, over-priced.

Finally, the Moose and I headed over for libation and grub one late-ish, rainy Wednesday evening to Le Marsangy in the 11th. It's a shame that Marsangy boasts one of the ugliest restaurant facades in Paris, because inside everything is warm and welcoming. The food is far from spectacular, but quite satisfying (I especially appreciated the millefeuille with langoustines and avocado), and it's always impressive to see the complete wine list written by hand on the chalkboard running the length of the restaurant's back wall. The owner looked far less like Lyle Lovett this time, but his down-home attitude was nonetheless appreciated.

URBANE (see above)

AU PETIT MARGUERY
9, Boulevard de Port Royal
75013 Paris
tel. 01 43 31 58 59
website: http://petitmarguery.com/fr/index.html

LE MARSANGY
73 ave Parmentier
75011 Paris
tel: 47 00 94 25
no website!

And the Winners Are - Le Palmarès Fooding 2010

2010-11-15T16:49:00.000-08:00

Le Palmarès - 'winners,' or in more common French usage, the Oscars, have just been awarded to the creme de la creme of the 2010 Paris and beyond restaurant scene by Lefooding.com, producers of an informative website and even better restaurant guide (mentioned in my last installment). Yes, it does seem rather early, and this is probably the first 'top whatever' list to appear for 2010, but, well...forget it, Jake, this is France. I have no idea what criteria the list is based on, or the process by which winners are chosen, but that doesn't mean my interest is not piqued for some new ideas for future meals, and of course, subsequent reviews. Two have been on my radar for some time: Spring (last year's big news and this year's big relocation) and La Tête dans les olives. A lot of buzz for both. And good to see another top spot around Parmentier, although I'm not so sure I'm willing to try a restaurant on the basis of best decor alone.

So here they are, Le Palmarès Fooding 2010. Let's just hope they don't turn out to be red herrings.

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Petit Luxe
Aux Deux Amis, Paris

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Bistrot d’Auteur
Rino, Paris

FOODING d’Honneur 2010
Bertrand Larcher
Breizh Café, Paris
La Table Breizh Café, Cancale

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Auberge
L’Auberge, Audierne

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Décor
Rem Koolhaas et Clément Blanchet
Le Dauphin, 131 avenue Parmentier, Paris 11e

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Table d’Hôte
La Tête dans les olives, Paris

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Cave à Manger
Les Papilles Insolites, Pau

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Agit’Popote
Spring, Paris

Links to each of these venues at lefooding.com website.

Lilane - Gracious

2010-11-08T17:06:00.000-08:00

In his book The Anatomy of Buzz, Emmanuel Rosen estimates that 27% of consumers go to a restaurant because of recommendations from a friend, and the more expensive the restaurant, the more important the recommendations. As I've previously written, I virtually never frequent a restaurant for a serious meal without first having heard or read something positive about it. Paris may be a capital for fine dining, but there are also a lot of dumps. Sometimes, though, all it takes is a broken carrying bag. For the second time in a month, when the strap broke on my leather bag, I went off to L'Epee de Cuir in the 5th arrondissement for a repair. This time, I headed back to the metro via a back road and came upon Restaurant Lilane, a gracious-
looking venue on none other that rue Gracieuse, almost in the shadow of the Great Mosque of Paris (see photo). A few days later, the name had stayed stuck, and so I did some online investigating. Lilane is largely under the radar, perhaps with the exception of the wonderful 2010 Fooding guide (the 2011 guide is promised for Nov. 18), but everything I read was favorable, with the word 'raffine' appearing more than once. So off Co. and I went.

What can I say but that Lilane was a nice little discovery. Warm welcome, subdued lighting, modern brown decor, unpretentious. The place hadn't yet filled up so we were offered our choice of three small round tables, and opted for the more isolated one where those two guys are sitting (photo graciously lifted from the Lilane website). 'Why Lilane?' I inquired to our gracious hostess (see photo) . The answer, she explained, is that the name is a compromise (she is Leila, the chef is Stéphane Guilnitude: get it?).

We started off on good fooding with a satiny smooth velouté de pomme de terre amuse bouche, followed by two 3-course menus more than reasonable priced at 32€ a pop. Our entrees consisted of an apparent Lilane specialty, Ravioles de langoustines, tombée de poireaux en feuilleté, fully living up to their reputation, but the ravioles could have been served hotter. The other entree, a Fricasse d'escargots aux legume oublies was nicely prepared, with a copious helping of succulent snails. For the main plates, I opted for the fish, Filet de bar fricassee de legumes et tomate seche, while Co. went for the plat du jour, a tasty Foie gras de canard poêlé, artichauts barigoule, which carried a 3€ supplement. For dessert, Co. opted for one of her faves, the souffle au grand marinier; I went the chocolate route with a fine barreau chocolate noir et marron glacé. I could not complain. What stood out during the meal for me was how well-prepared was the fish. I look forward to trying out some other fish plates on subsequent visits. Before I forget, this was all washed down with a bottle of Menetou-Salon, Jean Teiller 2006 (26€), a tasty Loire. Total for the two menus (+ supplement), wine, and one espresso came to 95.50€.

So now the word is out, and I'm kind of surprised is hasn't been already. Lilane may not be Michelin level gourmet cuisine, but that doesn't seem to be the point. Definitely worth checking out.

RESTAURANT LILANE
8 rue Gracieuse
75005 Paris
tel: 01 45 87 90 68
closed: Sat. lunch, Sunday & Monday

P.S. L'Epee de Cuir, one of the few places I know in Paris that repairs airport damaged luggage, charged me twice for the same repair in the span of one month, and the proprieter's idea of customer service is a sneer accompanied by the mantra, 'Show me the money!' Not very gracious, indeed. How's that for some word of mouth?

P.P.S. The Great Mosque of Paris (La Grande Mosquée de Paris, 39 rue Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire) has a nice little cafe/tea room, and though I've never tried it, a small restaurant. More information at their site.

Yam 'Tcha - Singin' In the Rain

2010-10-16T06:11:00.000-07:00

First things first, and most importantly: the food at Yam ‘Tcha is great. Diminutive co-owner (with husband Chiwah) Adeline Grattard, via L’Astrance and Hong Kong, prepares creative, delicate, and sometimes sublime Asian/French fused dishes in the open kitchen just to the right of the entrance of her storefront restaurant Yam ‘Tcha. This was a dinner Co. and I were looking forward to for 1-1/2 months, the lead time necessary to luck out with a reservation, once they start accepting them more than a month in advance. For good reason – you could barely cram 20 diners into the two tiny rooms that comprise the restaurant, along with the aforementioned tiny kitchen up front, a tea bar, and a phone booth-sized bathroom.

The size of Yam ‘Tcha, or lack thereof, may have been one reason why our eagerly anticipated evening got off to a rocky start. Arriving 15 minutes in advance of our reservation, not wanting to put the latest wave of transport strikes to more of a test than necessary and not all that enthusiastic about loitering around Les Halles in the pouring rain, we were ready for food, drink, and drying off. Unfortunately,
we got none of the above. We were brusquely informed that the staff wasn’t yet ready or appropriately dressed and were duly sent back out into the pouring rain. Not that it was my responsibility or anything, but I did my best to defend this action to Co., who was shall I say a bit hot under the collar, as we took a glass at the bar of a nearby restaurant. My arguments, though, were pretty hollow. I mean, it was already after 8 p.m. when we arrived, and I’ve already seen girls get dressed, so what would have been the problem with sitting us at a table with a warming glass of tea on the house? At more than 200 euros for the meal, let’s face it, they could afford it.

As for the meal, you know the drill. Prix fixe menus at 85 euros a pop, consisting of two entrées, two plates, a cheese dish, and dessert, all chosen by Adeline for the evening. However, you do have a choice when it comes to drink – a selection of different wines (40€ per person), teas (30€ per person), or wines/teas (40€ per person) for each plate. None of these sounded like an appetizing deal for me, so I asked for the wine menu and selected a 2007 Langedoc for 40€. But you can’t get too far without tea at Yam ‘Tcha (literally, ‘drink tea’; Chiwah is purportedly an expert, and one staff member spent the entire evening preparing various herbal concoctions at the bar to my right). Thus, we were started off with a Chinese variety that did nothing to soothe my sour mood. I admit, I am not a connoisseur or enthusiast of tea, and our free cup of tea tasted to me like the usual tea served at any typical Chinatown venue. Tea was followed by an amuse bouche consisting of a subtle bowlful of bright green cresson soup, in which a succulent oyster was floating along with some lardons. Along with the wine, I was feeling better already.

Doing the little things wrong, part 2. As our cresson soup was served the server promised that I would not leave without a listing of the offerings for the evening, after I delicately explained how I have difficulty remembering the complicated descriptions of the various plates. It is nice to be able to relax without having to scrawl what turns out to be unreadable gibberish on paper in preparation of my review. Well, as it turns out, what with all the drink and good food, and the opportunity to compliment Adeline as we moved toward the exit, I ended up leaving without that list. This is something the staff should not have allowed to happen, after promising that this would indeed be delivered. But then, despite their apparent attentiveness and concern, there was just something that was not quite genuine about the staff. So without the details on paper or remaining in my memory banks, what you end up with is an expurgated, incomplete description of the various courses. Here goes.

- Coquille St. Jacques (2 large sized, succulent scallops), algue, emulsion, pomme de Terre cuites partiellement

- Foie gras (poached), tomate, sauce sucrée, calamars – a definite highlight

- Dorade, delicately sitting on a bed of steamed Asian vegetables

- Veau (Co.) / tofu (me) served on a mound of brilliantly cooked aubergines (vapeur, 2 sauces de soja, gingembre, poive de Szechuan)

- Fromage

- Cheesecake + figue + fruits (gingembre, framboise), served with a bowl of ananas + ?

Pretty vague, I realize, but then the menu changes every night, so you’re not going to get this anyway. I’ve included some photos of dishes previously uploaded online, so you get the general flavor.

Although the evening got off to a damp start, we were warm, satisfied, and tipsy by the end of the dinner, and who can ask for more? Yam ‘Tcha’s prices have distinctly increased since receiving Michelin star #1, so don’t believe those 45-65€ ranges you see at other sites. If you go with one of the special wine/tea tastings and throw in coffee at the end, you can expect to pay more than 300€ for two (if that’s a turnoff, you might want to try the more affordable lunch). Opting instead for the bottle and no café, we checked out with a reasonable 212€ tab. Those extra 2€, by the way, were charged for the couple glasses of mineral water Co. asked for along the way, part 3 of how to get the little things wrong.

So there you have it. Yam ‘Tcha gets the big thing – the food – more than right. But those little customer relationship details are enough to keep me from having any great yearning to return anytime soon.

YAM 'TCHA
4 rue Sauval
75001 Paris
tel. 01 40 26 08 07
No Website!

La Gazzetta - Good News

2010-10-01T16:20:00.000-07:00

I had high expectations for La Gazzetta and it did not disappoint. La Gazz (if you don’t mind the truncation) as you may know, is one of the 6 great affordable, price-fixe wonders of the contemporary Parisian restaurant scene annointed in a widely regarded New York Times piece penned this past April by Christine Muhlke. Not that I don’t have the perpiscacity to discover these places on my own, but let’s just say that Muhlke got me to L’Agrume and La Gazz faster than I may have on my own. And after all, I did hit Jadis nearly a year before Muhlke’s article and found it to be decidedly underwhelming. Not so for L’Agrume, as I have well documented here, and certainly not so for La Gazz – both are the kinds of places you want to keep going back to, with friends in tow. Both feature inventive cooks, an unpretentious yet subtly sophisticated atmosphere, and ever-changing fixed menus.

In the case of La Gazz, that ever-changing fixed menu changes every week and is boldly announced at the restaurant’s website, how’s that for a 21st century Parisian culinary experience? Good to see someone knows how to set up a website and keep it fresh, and for a French site that doesn’t take three weeks to load, my hat is off to ya. And what is even cooler for those who still like a little surprise upon arrival, you can expect a little tweak here or there. Thus, a pre-announced online biche dish became a poulard in bricks & mortar reality.

La Gazz’s dinner menu essentially offers two menu choices – 5 plates (39€) or 7 plates (52€) – both of which are great deals. Coupled with an affordable wine list
– Co. and I opted for our international favorite - Rioja - in this case, a 31€ Rayos Uva 2009 (I have never, never met a Rioja I didn’t like), and you certainly can’t complain, especially once the food starts coming. The Rioja didn’t rise anywhere near our top, but it was adequate for the pleasures to come. First up was a highlight, and one of the best kinds: one that doesn’t sound intriguing until you start experiencing it, a Maquereau fumé, brûlé, topinambours et citron confit. The poor man’s topinambours (Jerusalem artichoke) were cooked to a crunchiness that meshed well with the smoked fish, enveloped by the sweet tinge of lemon confit. Original and very tasty. Next course, huîtres et tomates écrasées, courgette – nice sized 1-1/2 oysters under a cover of crushed tomato; again, not something that sounds like writing home about. . . until you try it, that is. The third plate was a light vegetable adventure. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, the carrot is an underrated vegetable, which is one reason I was really looking forward to see what René Redzepi’s Noma would make of it. Alas, that never came to pass, but La Gazz’s 39-year-old Swedish chef Petter Nilsson’s take was an intriguing alternative, with his carottes cuites au foin et rôties, semoule de lait et feuilles. It was the mousse-like mound of semoule that made the dish for me. Three up, three hits, with one drawback – the relatively stingy dishes each left you craving for more.

At this point, yours truly took a detour – passing on the jarret de veau et oursin, betterave blanche et pourpier, I settled for five, while Co. went whole hog with the lucky seven. I tasted her oursin and betterave (a tweak, originally designated as an oursin et poitrine de porc on the website), saving the veal for another lifetime. The taste of sea urchin was indescribable, so unfortunately, I can’t describe it. The word 'interesting' certainly applies. Another tweak was the poularde de Pierre Duplantier, salsifis et olives, estragon et girolles, essentially two rectangular slabs of poultry accompanied by two thin cigars of salsified olives. Very nice dish, and the replacement for the online biche de la Sarthe. Co.’s second add-on consisted of a sublime mousse yaourt de brebis, racine de persil et prunelle, the dried prune cut in thinly slice shards and placed atop the brebis, which went especially well with the accompanying country bread. As usual, I was already verbally downgrading the rather pedestrian-looking dessert, in two parts (in fact, the dessert and my review). On the left, rein de reinette trop cuit et terre chocolate, oxalis – or, in layman’s terms, an overly cooked half an apple sitting atop a shattered mound of chocolate crumbs – and to the right, soupe de Reine Claude et glace lait réduit – or, as we used to say in Philadelphia, 'yo, what is this, a slab of milk sorbet in gravy or sumptin?' Well, this turned out to be another one of those experiences where as you’re talking about how disappointed you are in not getting some elegant chocolate croustillant concoction or whatnot, the dessert starts getting better and better, until you’re struggling to get that last drop out of the plate and into your mouth, which is now uttering comments like, ‘man, what was that? That was damn good.’ That kind of dessert.

I don't like to brag, but do you notice a pattern here? I think this makes the third or fourth dinner in a row which prominently featured beet in one of the plates. Was I ahead of the curve claiming 2009 as year of the betterave, or what? As it turns out, the veal with betterave dish was probably the least inspired, if I am to believe Co., and why wouldn't I? Chef Nilsson apparently sees the potential in this rather nasty little root, as suggested by the accompanying photo, which was not on the list during our visit, a beets with watercress coulis construction.

An espresso to finish up for myself, accompanied by a couple of pastries gratis, and the final tally came to 124.50€ - that’s one 5-plate and one 7-plate menu, the Rioja, and one café. La Gazz, unlike many popular bistros in the capital is roomy – what amounts to a sizable loft loosely distinguished by three rooms. Co. and I had a nice little table in front sandwiched by the street window on one side and the bar on the other. Rue de Cotte is animated, with plenty of bars, in a lively part of town, about halfway between Nation and Bastille, not far from some other Mortstiff & Co. haunts (Paul Bert, et al.). Even on this gloomy, rainy early Fall evening, things were looking up.

LA GAZZETTA
29, rue de Cotte
75012 Paris
tel: 01 43 47 47 05
website: www.lagazzetta.fr

Rentrée 2010 - Greatest Hits

2010-09-18T15:16:00.000-07:00

The famous French rentrée, for those who still aren't familiar with that term, signals the beginning of the post-summer vacation return to life for Parisians and beyond. The restaurants having reopened, the French are now allowed to dine out again. I want to thank whatever powers that be who make this possible every September, because I am always nervous that Parisians in particular will simply forget to come home. Once again, I have learned that fears be damned, it's back on the road to gastronomic delights and other assorted pleasures.

This time around, as is becoming my typical pattern, I decided to return to some favorite haunts, thus guaranteeing a smooth passage back into Parisian life. As I have already reviewed in detail the three restaurants I've frequented so far this month, I intend to be brief and simply signify the highlights, or, if you will, greatest hits.

First up was a typically satisfying dinner at Bistrot Paul Bert. Yes, the Moose is
back after virtually traversing the globe, and halfway around he said 'I do' - the permanent kind. Paul Bert's constantly changing blackboard menu, once again only barely readable, always seems to sport some interesting surprises, and the highlight for me during our recent dinner was an entrée consisting of a tartare de mulet au vinegre japonaise. I can't remember having a tartare comprised of mullet fish before, and if it was anywhere near as good as this entrée I definitely would have remembered it. I didn't brave the camera this time, but the accompanying image from the cookingout blog gives a good idea - take away the vegetable and that's pretty much what the Paul Bert tartare looked like. And it tasted as good as it looks. This was part 1 of a 3-course 34 euro menu. Meanwhile, the Moose, on the heels of sampling the culinary charms of Japan, the Philippines, Thailand, Canada, and the UK, was hardly jaded as he praised his veal main dish effusively. Paul Bert continues to stand above a majority of similarly priced bistrots in the capital. It's not always inventive, but you know you won't be disappointed.

Next highlight came at the end of Co. & I's latest excursion to the suburbs at Les Magnolias, where we like to think of ourselves as regulars, and we hope that Mme Chauvel and her team feel the same. The hits at Magnolias this visit came at the periphery of the 3-course menu - the multiple amuse bouches and other assorted surprises that are served as accompaniments, including one of our all-time favorites, the famous Les Magnolias mustard macaroon, tiny but to the point. As for the dishes themselves, my heart belongs to a new dessert creation by chef Jean Chauvel, a chocolate 'mystere' praline et cerises. First you marvel at the aesthetically composed architecture of the dish, then you eat it, and the taste was as elegant as it looked. Co.'s highlight was an inventively prepared pigeon dish, the details of which have already faded from our collective memory. As is usually the case, quality comes with a price, and Les Magnolias prices have been slowly but steadily creeping up over the years to the current 3-course 58€ menu and 92€ menu dégustation levels.

My second excursion with Co. took place last Friday night at L'Agrume. This was our second visit to this new star on the Paris restaurant scene and it did not disappoint. It's difficult to select a highlight when each of the five courses could pass as such, but I'd have to say the consensus was the dish that on face value sounded the least interesting of the lot - the mousseline de chou-fleur - anguille fumé et oeufs de poisson. That's right, what amounted to cold cauliflower soup with smoked eel and fish eggs was right up there with epic. But not to be denied were the blue lobster - grapefruit and avocado cream entrée, the pavé de bar et beterraves rouges, the lapin roti - courgettes et citron confit, and a complex, artery constricting dessert that involved vanilla, cream and apples constructed as a guilty pleasure of the best kind. At 37€, L'Agrume's five-course menu degustation could well be the best deal in town, accompanied as it is by Karine's never-ending smile and altogether pleasant disposition, so what are you waiting for?

LES MAGNOLIAS
48, avenue de Bry
94 Le Perreux / Marne
Tèl (33-1) 48.72.47.43

LE BISTROT PAUL BERT
18, rue Paul Bert
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 72 24 01

L'AGRUME
15 rue des fosses St-Marcel
Paris 5
01 43 31 86 48

Note: If you guessed The Marvelettes, you are a gentleman/lady and a scholar.

L’Écu de France (Reprise) - Form Follows Function

2010-08-29T17:30:00.000-07:00

A well-kept secret, assuredly, but now the secret is out - yours truly & Co. have returned twice to L’Écu de France, the 'atmosphere, atmosphere' venue along the Marne that I reviewed back in June '08. If you've read that review, you already know that I was somewhat conflicted, essentially concluding with the impression that the restaurant was aloof and over-priced. Now that I am a full two years older, wiser, and much more mature, I am willing to admit that I stand corrected - I have no reason to conclude aloofness any longer, I confidently can supplant 'over-priced' with 'pricey', and you no longer have to take a copy of War & Peace to bide your time between courses (and even then, I would instead recommend Larsson's Millennium trilogy, now that I am more than halfway through book 3 and well on my way to finishing before the end of the current decade).

All kidding aside ('a dyslexic man walks into a bra . . .'), no I mean it, all kidding aside, this time I intend to make a long story (my first Ecu review) short (this second review). And in short, the chef is doing a great job conjuring up some interesting and imaginative dishes. Even cooler, the chef requests that specific, specially designed plates are ordered for serving those creations, from an independent (and secret except for those, ahem, who know) createur francais, as a means of further embellishing and enhancing the already artistic presentation of the food. Form follows function.

Now, I hope you are sitting down, because this time I took photos!

Here's the Asiatic-leaning mise-en-bouche:

First course - Co. opted for the Millefeuille de Foie gras de Canard et magret fumé,
pain d’épice à la saubressade, jus au caramel (18€) and I selected Filet de Daurade Royale, consommé froid d’algue et Thon séché marinade de légumes au thé vert (15€):

Co. was very pleased with the delicately layered foie gras, although we found little evidence of pain d’épice à la saubressade, unless it was the sprinkly stuff you see on the plate. My dish hit the mark conceptually, but this was definitely not my cup of tea, green or not.

Moving on to the main dishes, here we go, two big hits. Co. was knocked out (in a good way) by her lamb dish, Canon d’Agneau du Limousin en cappuccino d’arabica,
farandole de poires en compotée et confite au Bourgogne (19 €), the plate comprised of two bowled spaces, one for the lamb, the other for the pear, and the great gesture here was the cappuccino sauce - lamb cooked in coffee?, you've got to be kidding, but like I said, a knockout. My dish was up there as well, the Magret de Canard du Pays d’Auge caramélisé au Pondichéry risotto « Arborio » à la betterave, émulsion de réglisse (21€) - a hint of nostalgia with the return to the beet, last year's big thing, and the combo was Technicolor - the beet red and the duck pink bleeding over the risotto, enveloped by the purple plate.

Desserts also were near-perfect on the satisfaction scale. Co. went with the lemon inspired Macaron au Fenouil et citron vert glacé, litchis à la fleur de menthe (15€), whereas I couldn't deny an after dinner cigar, the chocolate variety, Cigare « Partagas » en After Eight,émulsion d’orange sanguine, turbiné au moment (19€), which looks kind of well, phallic, but the chocolate, mint, orange melange with little squares of lime jello was epic.

Not to be denied, my espresso came with a small plate of tasty patisseries, not that they were needed by this point. But if its free, I'll take it. Before I forget, all this grub was washed down with a Givry « Clos Salomon » 2005 (M. du Gardin), a tasty red for 35€.

Total for the evening - two 3-course meals, wine, and one cafe came to 149€. Just a reminder - L'Ecu has a strange concept - you can order the plates in 1/2 portion or full. Once again, we opted for the less expensive 1/2 portion and could not fathom eating anything more by the end of the meal, certainly not twice as much.

Service was diligent and attentive, with a couple of minor glitches subtly evident in the background, and for an end of August Friday night, the large room was well populated. It's off the beaten path and you'll need a car to get there, but the next time you go visit the Marne, check out L'Ecu. Interesting place.

L’ÉCU DE FRANCE
31 Rue Champigny
94430 Chennevieres-sur-Marne
tel: 01 45 76 00 03
Website (with directions): http://www.ecudefrance.com/

The Archaeology of Eating

2010-08-23T05:04:00.000-07:00

A bit off the beaten track, but earlier today I received an interesting item from my friend Will Jarvis, world's leading expert on time capsules.

And this emailed analysis from the noted British anthropologist Brian Durrans:

Since experimental archaeology is already widely practiced, excavating a site a mere decade old cannot make ordinary sense but seems to be a further gimmick to keep alive the original gimmick of the trenchside banquet itself. Any activity that takes place beside a purpose-dug trench carries strong associations of evil intent, which I suppose could add to the fascination even if most people can't quite put their finger on it. The French and sumptuary cuisine epitomise Pierre Bourdieu's classic studies of 'distinctions of taste' as social markers, and all those films in the 1960s and 70s by Bunuel and others (Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, etc.) in which patterns of eating were metaphors for social (dis)order; but the only purpose I can think of for the (premature) excavation of what was in any case originally a staged event trenchside is to refocus attention on the ephemerality of bourgeois foodways, which is increasingly fascinating to people - witness the enormous growth of cooking programmes and publishing - by exploiting popular interest using latest forms of communication technology. There would for instance in this case be no point in re-excavating if its only expression were in print media. But it all rehearses the time capsule theme.

Aside from the social science perspective on Spoerri's project, I think it's useful to keep in mind that Spoerri is presumed to be an artist. So his buried repast can be viewed as a performance art work as well as a look into the ancient customs of the 1980s. And in my meanderings through the bars, restaurants, and cafes around the world, I've come across some photographers of food who are doing some amazing work transforming food into permanent art. In Turku, Finland I happened to stumble upon Seilo Ristimäki, one of Finland's leading advertising photographers. Seilo heads the Iloinen Liftari Studios, and is responsible for some breathtaking food photos. You can check out his site here.

La Dinée – Rentrée Reprise

2010-08-21T05:55:00.000-07:00

Exactly a year ago I raved about a late August dinner at La Dinée, which sits in the impossible to park except during late August, 15th arrondissement. In an effort to repeat history, Co. and I returned last (Friday) night. Once again, the crowd was sparse - and here I expected that this blog would have had hordes of eager diners lining up at the door. Well, if this blog has had any effect on La Dinée's under the radar success on the Paris restaurant scene, it wasn't apparent during our visit, as only one other table was occupied, unfortunately, by a persistently yapping foursome who seemed unduly obsessed by Montreal. To be fair, these were the first days back from the conges annuel, so the sparse crowd was understandable.

To make a long story short, overall I'd have to say that you still can expect to have an above average meal at Dinée, though perhaps not nearly as transcendent as I suggested a year ago. And it's going to cost you more. Maybe this blog has had an impact after all, though not quite what I had in mind. What once was a rather steep 41€ 3-course menu has risen to an even steeper 47€, with no apparent rise in kitchen creativity, and still no amuse-bouche. Compare than with La Gagne's terrific 5-course menu degustation priced at 42€, or Les Magnolias' far more original 3-course 57€ menu, and you have to wonder what justifies Dinée's pricing policy (there is a less expensive 2-plate alternative at 39€). And to top things off, our 35€ Bourgeuil's (2007) worthiness was only distinguished by its unworthiness. A disappointing, from my standpoint, Brochette de caille aux épices des Indes, taboulé de maïs entree was offset by Co's very good, lemony Poêlée de chipirons aux citrons et tomates confites, salade d'herbettes au parmesan. I accidentally got some of my caille into some of Co's lemon (guilty!), and guess what? It improved.

No complaints regarding the main plates: for me, Suprême de pintade, tombée de chou frisé aux lardons et escargots (nice idea, adding the escargot to the moist poultry); for Co., Daurade royale à la peau croustillante, risotto aux haricts de soja vert (whose success was enhanced by an interesting orange-based sauce). My highlight came at dessert, Tarte fondante au chocolat, sorbet cacao - everything you could ever ask from chocolate and 'more!'; Co's Soupe de fraises, glace au fromage blanc et spéculos - refreshing for a warm summer night, but not much more.
In short, my thumbs are still up for La Dinée, but there are better deals to be had in town.

LA DINÉE
85, rue Leblanc
75015 Paris
tel: 01 45 54 20 49
website: www.restaurant-ladinee.com

Le Beurre Noisette - Just In Time

2010-08-14T16:40:00.000-07:00

This is a modern world - thank you Paul Weller for that great song - and I like to think of myself as a modern guy, so as I went down my list and through my guides trying to find a last minute place to reserve a Friday night dinner slap-dab in the middle of August and the annual restaurant closing period, I hesitated when I came to Le Beurre Noisette. Hadn't I been there before? After some research, it appeared that in fact, I had not. Something about the name - hazelnut butter - no, maybe not. But the more I read, both hot and cold reviews, the less excited I became about BN. No promises of dramatic, revolutionary, over the top, creations from the kitchen. What is a modern guy to do?

Although the words 'steady,' 'refined,' and 'imaginative' kept popping up in reviews - and there's certainly nothing wrong with that - comments about the 'coldness' and 'slowness' of the staff, 'nothing special about the dishes,' etc. were evident as well. But as a modern man, I prefer to march to the beat of my own drum, and after all, every place else was closed. So Co. and I reserved for the 9:30 pm second serving (the first was slated for 7 pm - hell, I'm just waking up around then), trekked across town to a remote area in the 15th, and bopped in an unfashionably half hour in advance to find a nice little table against the wall available. Obviously, we weren't the only ones with BN in mind this Friday evening - both relatively small rooms were packed ('seats about 40' is becoming a familiar refrain in the capital), and so were the five or six sidewalk tables on a rather chilly Friday evening. Patrons of all ilks - a heady mix of tourists (Japanese to my right, Italians directly in front) and regulars (obvious from the familiar greetings they received at the door). And then we proceeded to have a surprisingly terrific dinner in a convivial atmosphere, waning days of summer evident amidst an atmosphere that conveyed a kind of 'it's now or never' feel about it.

If chef Thierry Blanqui has an imaginative flair in the kitchen (and photos online - here or here, for example - suggest that he does), it wasn't very evident during our evening, which reeked of French tradition and Blanqui's Auvergne origins. Having previously passed through some of the top French kitchens, such as La Tour d'Argent and Pavillon Ledoyen, Blanqui set up shop in the 15th back in 2001. Over that time, BN has apparently accrued a number of faithful regulars, who keep going back to an ever changing menu - scrawled, erased, scrawled, erased ad infinitum on those dastardly portable slate boards that they bring to your table. I yearn for the day when we can just call up the daily menu on a little screen embedded in the table top - probably just around the corner for most of the world, and a few decades away for the French, who appear to have a certain fondness for chalk.

The animated, amiable, hard-working, but largely over-matched waitstaff - all two to be exact, immediately pointed out the dishes that weren't available, only a couple of which either myself or Co. had actually contemplated. Which could only mean one thing - they are emptying out the fridge and about to close shop for the conges annuel. But in this case we were informed that the - indeed - impending respite would last two full months, bearing promise of a renovation of the restaurant. Judging from the decor, which I will politely describe as, uhm, rustic, that renovation is coming none too soon. We definitely got there just in time. So no time to lose, let's get to the food.

Co. started off with a carpaccio de pied de couchon, prepared with lentils, croutons, and a few swirls of extremely sharp cheese. Not one to go any nearer to a pig's foot than possible, I took Co. on her word that this was an excellent entree, elegantly simple, yet nonetheless original. With few options available, I was torn between a gaspacho with melon and shrimps (on the side) dish or an entree of sardines with grilled bread. Not a great fan of sardines, I took my chances and was pretty satisfied - the sardines steeped in marinated onions in one of those mad scientist glass beakers. Along with the basket of thick slices of fresh country bread on the table, and a 50 cl pichet of a recommended wine, a VDP d'Orange 2005 (20 euros), I could not complain and so I did not.

For once, Co. and I were hesitating between the same two main courses, so we ordered both, along with the pre-order nuptual agreement that we would switch plates at the halfway point. The clear winner, and a big hit, was the torte de foie gras de canard, which came with a helping of magret de canard - pretty simple - the foie gras pastry and the slab of duck, with a side dish of green salad. Which is not to deny the success of the other dish - a filet de paigre (a type of dorade fish) with green lentils. The fish was quite tasty, but the tort de foie gras was wow. Not very summery, true, which may explain Co.'s choice of a pineapple dessert, which came in a martini glass, topped with a healthy dollop of mousse de noix de coco. As I contemplated my own dessert choice, I was struck by the three Italian men at the nearby table, about to dig into their own desserts. For some reason, person A couldn't quite bring himself to initiate the festivities by dipping into his strawberry dish - which appeared to be concocted as a two-story tarte. He then passed the tarte to person B, who thought for a while before passing it to person C. As I predicted - you can ask Co. - it wasn't long before the tarte was resting back where this game of musical desserts commenced, whereupon person A who, by the next time I looked, cleaned his plate of any evidence of what had laid there before. Maybe this is some sort of Italian dessert eating ritual I never knew about before, but as I am easily amused, I found this rather amusing. I decided to forego the strawberry dessert nonetheless. Still thirsty after our humble pichet, I was drawn to what is more or less, apparently, a BN standard, their homemade baba au rum. What was particularly conforting about that dish is that the rum was on the side, in the form of a large bottle of Saint James. My eyes are bigger than my brain, or something like that, and before I knew it, my dessert had turned into rum accompanied by a little baba, rather than the other way round. Whoops.

Before the end of meal cafe, we were treated to a small plate consisting of a couple madeleines and a couple homemade marshmallows. With one cafe, the pichet, and the two 3-course 32€ menus the cost of the meal rounded out to 86.50€, yielding one of the best price/quality ratios I've seen in a long time. In two months, you can check out BN for yourself, assuming you haven't already. It will be interesting to see what the remodeling yields and what sorts of dishes Monsieur Blanqui conjures up for the rentree.

LE BEURRE NOISETTE
68 rue Vasco de Gama
75015 Paris
tel. 01 48 56 82 49
no website, but apparently, word of mouth rocks!

Dumbest Restaurant Customer of the Year Award 2010

2010-08-12T15:13:00.000-07:00

It's August, so it goes without saying - though I'll say it anyway - that things are pretty, pretty slow on the Paris restaurant front. Anyplace worth eating (and I've tried many favorites, including Les Magnolias, L'Agrume, La Dinee et al.) is closed for vacation (the so-called 'conges annuels'). You've read my harangues about this before. You have to hand it to the French, who put vacation above profits on their life satisfaction scale. The capital is filled with tourists, who are forced to scrape the bottom of the barrel for food - fast food chains, inexpensive Turkish kebab joints, and rundown Parisian cafes. I can hear them now, summing up their culinary vacation adventures to their friends: 'uhm, I don't known, but it seems to me that French cuisine is a bit overrated.'

Given the vacuum, I figure this is as good a time as any to turn a bit whimsical and commence the all-new PRAB Dumbest Restaurant Customer of the Year Award for 2010. I know what you are thinking. There are four months to go and a lot of dumb people out there! Trust me, our initial DRCYA winner cannot be beat! And so, I am proud to name as winner, none other than shabbily dressed, 43-year-old Baltimore, Maryland denizen, Andrew Palmer (in photo). Mr. Palmer, you see, is well known among restaurateurs--not only in Baltimore, but all along the US east coast--as the kind of guy who happily orders, merrily eats and drinks, and at meal's end, falls to the floor feigning a seizure to avoid paying the bill. Pretty neat scam, huh? Well, not for Mr. Palmer, for whom this scam never seems to work. In more cases than not, he is rushed to the hospital emergency room and then to a 90-day free vacation in a jail cell. The authorities have finally noticed a pattern, and his last arrest led to a conviction based on a consolidation of his last six convictions. This time, his sentence is 18 months in jail.

You can read the full story here. Maybe Mr. Palmer will become an Internet folk hero, like the JetBlue flight attendant Steve Slater who lost it and abandoned his post (and in so doing, chucked his job) after some passengers got a little unruly, or he started a fight, or whatever the case ultimately proves to be. But I am afraid our DRCYA recipient won't be so lucky. It's okay to be dumb to become an Internet sensation, but not this dumb. You really have to wonder if our charter award winner has more personal problems than just being dumb. One arrest followed a (free) meal of chicken wings and beers at Baltimore's Burke's Cafe. I can tell you, that meal would in no way justify eating prison grub for the following 90 days. I liked Burke's when I was a college student in Baltimore, but when I went back as a grownup, I realized that either my tastes had grown much more sophisticated or Burke's standards had dramatically declined. Probably a combination of the two. But that is neither here nor there. Nothing makes sense about a criminal who continues to perpetrate a non-profitable crime that inevitably lands the perpetrator in the slammer. Unless he really likes prison food. And if that is the case, maybe our dumbest restaurant customer of the year isn't so dumb after all. The prison cafeteria never closes.

Le Gaigne - Another Winner

2010-08-07T16:59:00.000-07:00

Le Gaigne, close enough to the French 'gagner' (to win) and 'gagnant' (winner) to project a boastful, winning facade even before one enters, but the name itself is reference to owner and chef with the strong pedigree and substantial CV, Mickael Gaignon.

Am I detecting a pattern here? Small storefront restaurant just off the beaten path of a trendy quarter (I counted a mere 12 tables at Le Gaigne), run by a dynamic and young couple - he of culinary expertise manning the kitchen, she of efficient and amiable hosting and serving in the dining room, evidence of a creative flair in the dishes (sometimes a hit, sometimes a miss, but who's counting?), fresh produce, unique ingredients, modestly priced menus and a decent price/quality rapport. If this reminds you of some of my previous reviews (see Fabrique 4, L'Agrume), then I rest my case.

Co. and I reached Le Gagne, which sits on the edge of the Marais, following a leisurely stroll that commenced at the Forum Les Halles. Three or four blocks along rue Rambuteau, past Beaubourg (Pompidou Center), navigating around the hordes of tourists in the center of Paris on a mild Friday, August evening, past the little cheesecake shop that I fortunately espied for the first time (but certainly not the last), one reaches the tiny rue Pecquay and the now off-white restaurant Le Gaigne. Lucky enough to reserve on their last weekend before the restaurant joins everyone else on vacation until the end of August, I wasn't expecting much of a crowd during our meal, bearing in mind that a 'crowd' in Le Gagne would comprise about 20 patrons. And as it turned out, as we entered around 8:30 pm. we had our choice of all but one table, the one occupied by a sole woman contentedly already having begun her first course, working on an especially difficult New York Times crossword puzzle (I'm still only half done myself). Well, it didn't take long for the restaurant to fill up, until only one tiny, lonely table remained unoccupied, it's intended diners having bailed without notice, much to the chagrin of the couples, sans reservation, who were turned away during the course of the evening.

Le Gaigne's carte changes on the first of each month, but can be consulted online prior to one's visit (September's will appear on August 31). The relatively short August menu, a continuation of July's for obvious reasons (August only equals one week in this case) nonetheless posed more than one difficult choice dilemma, easily leading us to opt for the 5-course menu degustation. I guess I can gripe about the fact that Le Gaigne doesn't offer the standard menu for dinner (lunch offers a 17€ two-plate menu and 23€ three-plater), but the 42€ menu degustation is a great deal, and relatively speaking, the far better alternative to ala carte. For an additional 17€, your dishes come accompanied by three glasses of wine (Sancerre 'Les Grands Champs' blanc, Cotes de Brouilly 'Les Muses', and a Muscat de Rivesaltes 'Chateau les Pins'). Never having understood the point of vin blanc, I went the traditional route and selected a Bourgogne Pinot Noir (29€) and was glad I did.

On to the food. Up first was a millefeuille de legumes aux olives noires de
Kalamata, a delicately prepared entree that was summer refreshing, with (if memory serves me correctly) pieces of cauliflower, green beans, and eggplant (see photo - the one I got without anyone looking). I don't think the payoff warranted the obvious amount of preparation that went into this dish, but it was a more than functional start. As is often the case with menu degustations, portions often are about mid-size what you can expect if you just order the damn dish off the carte, but happily, M. Gaignon didn't scimp here, but instead presented the full-size version. This was followed by a plate consisting of two croquettes de queue et pied de veau au curry, requettes et amandes fraiches, salade de sucrine et lange de veau (try saying that five times in a row as quickly as you can). Not a veal eater myself, I was granted permission to exchange dish 2 with one of the following from the ala carte menu: (a) Filets de sardine farcis d'une creme d'avocat a la brunoise de radis et concombre, artichaut poivrade marine, or (b) Poelee de champignons du moment, marmelade d'oignons de Trebons, omelette aux oeufs bio de la ferme de Champignolles. I was torn, and sans coin in my pocket, drum roll please, I chose (b). Bingo - this was a terrific dish, the taste growing in complexity as I delved deeper, the rectangular slab of omelette with onion marmelade topping providing a nice counterbalance to the mushrooms. A highlight.

Moving on to stage 3, the fish dish, which consisted of a relatively small filet de daurade cuit au plat et brandade, coulis de persil, pommes-de-terre grenaille mitraille aux oignons nouveaus. I really appreciated the complements to the fish with crispy skin intact, a tasty mound of brandade and the accompanying dish of small rounded potatoes with persil and 'new' (whatever that means) tasty onions. Dish four was perhaps the most inventive - Lapin en trois facons, aubergines grillees, poelee de courgettes. None of the three rabbit preparations looked anything like you would imagine a rabbit dish, and without attempting to describe them, please just take my word for it. Another hit. At this point in the festivities, one has the option to take a cheese detour with a nuage de camembert fermier, but it'll cost you an additional 3€ supplement (M. Gaignon, come on, why not just throw it in the deal?). I overheard the crossword woman really raving about this dish to a couple of guys at the next table, and if I had still been hungry, and a little less drunk, I would have sprung for it and been in a position to explain what the fuss was about. To finish up, for dessert we received a plate of peches pochees, parfait glace a la verveine, meringue et noisettes caramelisees. Call me strange, please, but I am not a big fan of peaches. Still, even beyond the half poached peach (try saying that . . ., oh forget it) there was enough about this rather original dish to keep it interesting, especially the minty verveine leaf and the caramelized nuts.

Overall, a very satisfying, relaxing, August meal in the up and coming storefront category of the Parisian gastronomique scene. I'm looking forward to checking out the changing Le Gaigne cartes, once this summer vacation nonsense is over and done with. [Two menu degustation, wine, and one cafe totaled 115.50€]

LE GAIGNE
12, Rue Pecquay
75004 Paris
tel: 01 44 59 86 72
www.restaurantlegaigne.fr

L'Aromatik - Sounds of the City

2010-07-11T18:22:00.000-07:00

It was a sultry Friday night, but Co. and I braved the non-air conditioned metro and ventured out to the theater district in the 9th, to L’Aromatik, which a May issue of Telerama promoted as a ‘bistrot coloré à la partition fusion honorable.’ The bistrot, which apparently dates back to the circa 1920s-30s jazz era (when they didn't have AC), is a claustrophobic, but quaint, Art Deco venue which sits on the rather uninteresting, long and windy rue Jean-Baptiste-Pigalle, a street that arises from the Moulin Rouge in the Pigalle area to sights unseen and unknown. Well, I guess it’s true - you do learn something every day, and on that sultry Friday night, the first thing I learned is that Pigalle was originally a somebody before he became a someplace and a some street – an 18th C. sculptor to be precise. The second thing I learned is to never again visit L’Aromatik on a sultry Friday night, or any other sultry night for that matter, at least not until they get that second overhead fan working again (assuming it ever did).

The place is small, but we managed to appropriate a little table – and I do mean little – more or less by its lonesome, but we were already working up a sweat before the rest of the tables filled. I counted four floor fans and the one workable overhead fan cranking away, to little avail. The front of the restaurant was wide open for air, but here is where I learned a third thing – the narrow, typically Parisian rue JB Pigalle may look charming from the outside, but inside it is one noisy mother! My back to the street, I listened to a steady parade of buses, motos, Mack trucks, and Sherman tanks. How the tanks fit such a narrow street I cannot say, but the decibel level, not counting the screaming patrons, managed to drown out the waiter’s explanations and the lilting melodies of Miles Davis’s So What, which remained barely audible in the background.

The heat and noise did little for my disposition, so you may want to take my evaluation of the food with a grain of salt or some other aromatik spice of your preference. But let me digress for just another minute. What is it with restaurateurs’ fascination with naming their venues with mispelled words? Aromatik, Thai Me Up, Brews Brothers, you get the idea. Is this supposed to denote an ironic or playful indicator of imaginative meanderings in the kitchen? Anyway, I suppose Aromatik is supposed to signify a sort of thinking outside the box in the sense of asiatic and organic ingredients that justify the fusion-oriented nomenclature. Along those lines, to start off, following a tasty amuse bouche of crème of sardine with tomato, Co. went Mediterranean with the gaspacho entrée and I went Asian with the rouleaux de printemps à l'aïoli de Marseille. Even cold soup sounded too warm for me under the circumstances; Spring rolls struck me as a couple months more temperate. Neither of us was wowed by our choices. Co. did appreciate the combination of ham and fruit pieces in the soup (normally the ham is an accompaniment). My spring rolls had that tres fusion look, but appearances were deceiving in this case. Once I cut into the Spring rolls, a veritable garden blossomed onto my plate, which made me wonder why the dish was accompanied by a mound of greens. Until I reached the tasty two pieces of shrimp in the second roll, I felt like the green gardener. The uninspired sauce (mayo/mustard, tournesol) did little to spice up this disappointing entrée. But I admit, it looked nice.

The main plates were more satisfying, Co. going with the pintade and myself choosing the plat du jour, crevettes and risotto, identified as ‘Suggestion Bertrand’ (after youthful chef Bertrand Martin) on the bill. By this point, I think a delirium had set in largely attributed, I am sure, to the wine (a more than tolerable Domaine du Trillol Corbieres 2005) and rising heat. I vaguely remember Co’s pintade with peaches, having tried a couple forkfuls. I also remember two huge shrimp sitting atop my risotto, which was accompanied – imaginatively enough – by some paper thin slices of smoked duck. Things could have been worse, I guess. But if this is supposed to be fusion country, we were largely on the peripherique.

I am always lightly amused by French stabs at New York cheesecake, so I couldn’t resist trying Aromatik’s Cheese cake New-Yorkais au chocolat blanc. I couldn’t quite fuse my memory of the typical New York cheesecake with the round dessert that appeared on my plate, and where the white chocolate was my taste buds would not disclose, but I did experience a nostalgic rush when I found that it was sitting on a base composed of actual graham cracker.

Co’s 3-course ‘menu’ was priced at a reasonable 35 euros, but because Bertrand’s suggestion wasn’t included as a ‘menu’ choice, my ala carte total ran a bit higher at 46 euros. Topped off by the 25 euro Corbieres, our bill came to 106 euros, air not included, but more than enough decibels of noise to give you a free headache for the rest of the weekend. Overall, my evaluation of L’Aromatik is clearly less favorable than the more laudatory reviews you’ll find at Lobrano and Talbot’s blogs. Chalk it up to the weather, the noise, whatever. I have to hand it to Monsieur Martin, at least he is making an effort – judging from the dishes that appear on the menu – to spice up the typical Parisian bistrot menu, the latter of which is so predictable at this point you surely won’t need a roadmap. Even the reasonably-priced wine list included some non-French (an Australian, a Chilean, and a Spanish), and some biologique alternatives. But if you choose to try L’Aromatik before the end of the summer, just be sure to dress lightly and take some ear plugs.

L'AROMATIK
7, rue Jean-Baptiste-Pigalle
01 48 74 62 27
website
video

Fabrique 4 – No Reservation

2010-06-26T18:14:00.000-07:00

Fabrique 4, or Bistrot F 4 for the more conceptual reader, is a tiny, funky little bistrot in a thriving corner of the 17th. It is in good company, with one of Paris Restaurants and Beyond’s favorites, La Bigarrade, just around the corner, and the overflowing Bloc bar/café a few doors away. It didn’t hurt that Friday evening happened to be one of those rarities in Paris – the weather was nice!: still sunny and mild at 8:30 pm, the hint of a full moon on the horizon, and weekend revelers packing the streets in search of a boisson and a bite. Co. and I were greeted outside F 4 by a youthful couple lazing around at one of the marble tables lined up in front of the façade. The casual duo turned out not to be a couple of layabout Parisian university students as first glance suggested, but F 4 co-owners Jade et Thibault, another pair of conjoint restaurateurs who seem to be spreading throughout the capital. Trust me, I have nothing against youth – I used to be one myself, and anyway, give them another 20 or 30 years and they will be as decrepit as me. It just so happens that these talented neophytes are infusing some imaginative culinary flair into the Paris restaurant scene. It’s understandable that the F 4 duo were relaxing in the waning moments of sunshine, because once they ushered us inside to a corner table for 5, the serious work of the evening kicked into full force.

The F 4 carte is a bit conceptual, with the ‘Food F’ starting off the list of choices: sashimi de boeuf (with roquette salad and parmesan) and a salade Ceasar au gambas, either of which could serve as an entrée or main dish. Next category, clear-cut entrees, comprised the ‘be 4’ category, with options consisting of the likes of foie gras mi-cuit and asperges a la flamande. Then it’s on to the main plates, surf (‘Waters’) or turf (‘Pattes,’ as in paws), with four options available in each category. ‘Happy ends’ rounds out the menu with a choice of--you guessed it--four desserts. Co. and I opted for the two Food Fs, respectively. Great start – Co. waxed effusively over the tenderness of the sashimi beef (10€) – a copious lineup of thinly sliced meat squares with a cornichon, orange, and mayonaise sauce running alongside - a sashimi dish that is rare in French restaurants. Meanwhile, my dish consisted of 3 sizable grilled gambas, on a bed of bulgar grain and young green asparagus, a dollop of anchovy butter, and a few slices of toasted baguette (16€). This was definitely a tasty dish, but I didn’t understand the point of the toast – the slices were hard and uninteresting, as if Thibault had forgotten to add the garlic and butter, which would have served as a more logical accompaniment to the gambas.

On to our main plate dishes. Red mullet is one of my favorites and so it was no surprise I picked the rouget with risotto, a quite satisfying option (15€). Co. continued her carnivorish ways, literally having a cow with her selection of ribs de boeuf (17€), two large slabs of meaty bones—the meat she once again praised for its tendresse—along with vegetables and some lightly fried potato squares. To finish up, my happy ending was happier than Co's happy ending, with a far superior fondant of chocolate with an accompanying nuts/syrup guilty pleasure concoction (6€) vis-à-vis Co’s somewhat perplexing tiramisu (6€). The wine list is short but sweet, with several reasonably priced, interesting bottles. We opted for the unfamiliar St. Pourçain 2008, a red strongly reminiscent of Chinon (24€), bringing the total to a reasonable 94€.

The F 4 interior consists of chandeliered modernity – two chandeliers hanging overhead the stylish tables and bar, with a nicely chosen Impressionistic painting running along the far wall. I counted five tables inside, and five out, which makes reserving essential - don't be misled by this entry's title, I refer to those who didn't get to eat. Jade must have turned away a steady stream of somewhere between 20 and 30 youthful patrons throughout the evening who were hoping to be seated despite the full house inside and out. No second serving, no taking advantage of the empty space inside to set up some more tables. It was pretty clear that the dynamic Jade/Thibault duet was one that played to its own demanding limits. (Jade later explained that in lieu of the five outside tables during the cold weather months, they cram in enough extra seats to accommodate 27 – how they do that I cannot fathom, although I have vague images of an endless stream of clowns pouring out of a VW). In short, F 4 merits a return visit. We’re not in Michelin country, but you could do worse. It will be interesting to follow Thibault’s future creations.

FABRIQUE 4
17 rue Brochant
75017 Paris
tel. +33 1 58 59 06 47
website

Copenhagen or Bust

2010-06-14T18:47:00.000-07:00

Let me be clear – I like Copenhagen. I like Denmark. I like the Danes. I like the fact that it’s a joy walking around the city, a joy meeting people, a joy using the efficient mass transportation, a joy touring the canal by boat, etc. etc. In fact, the New York Times recently proclaimed the Danes as the most joyful people on the planet. With the prices in Denmark, I’m not exactly sure what they are so joyous about. Maybe they got to eat in all the good restaurants that I didn’t during my recent visit. That must be it.

Unfortunately, my stay in Copenhagen from a dining experience was pretty much a bust. No, I did not make it to René Redzepi’s Noma, the recently rated best restaurant in the world. The closest I got to Noma was when we passed it on a boat tour and the guide explained how one must reserve two years in advance. So I was one year and 350 days late when I called and ended up on a waiting list. So sue me. Maybe this is all for the better – a look at Noma’s menu leaves cause for pausing, with items like biodegradeable grain and smoked musk ox cheek. No sense trying to reserve again for two years hence. Chances are Noma will have been displaced from the top spot to number 3, 4, or worse, and who wants to eat in the 3rd or 4th best restaurant in the world anyway? Everyone knows Avis and Hertz – does anyone care who is no. 3? Case closed.

The Noma experience was pretty typical, even for mere 1-star Michelin restaurants in the capital. I tried the way, way, way over-priced Formel B, The Paul, Krogs Fiskeresteraunt, among others, only to find them all fully booked. Another disappointment was the more affordable smørrebrød (open sandwiches) landmark, Ida Davidsen, a family run business that comes highly recommended. I trekked out to the restaurant for lunch one afternoon, navigating a couple buses and a couple maps, only to learn at the door that they could not seat poor old me because they were filled. When I got back to my hotel later in the day, I checked my restaurant list and next to Ida Davidson I found I had written ‘must reserve!!!’. Doh.

Well, I had to eat, so my aspirations lowered, I did end up with a few good experiences, if not especially memorable. First up, and what turned out to be the highlight meal, was a seafood place in walking distance from my Mayfair Clarion Hotel, Kødbyens Fiskebar, a modern, converted warehouse in the hip meatpacking district, where one can sit at one of the 20 or so scattered tables, at the ample bar, or at the circular aquarium. I chose the bar and chatted up the bartender/server, who informed me that the soft shell crab sandwich I had seen on their online menu was not on the current menu because of supply issues. This was the one offering they imported frozen, but being Baltimore bred, I would take a soft-shell crab sandwich any way I could get it. I settled for a couple glasses of Maker’s Mark to console my weary traveling mind, and opted for a trout tartare entrée, and a baked cod main dish. Both were excellent: the tartare had a crunchy element to it, which I learned from the bartender was spent grain, similar to rye. Denmark does bread and does it well – the accompanying basket of dark breads was addictive. The cod came accompanied by artichokes with truffle powder and salsify (long roots), as well as a small bucket of boiled potatoes. On the surface, Fiskebar comes off as laid back and casual, but there’s obviously someone making an effort in the kitchen. (In fact, there are two kitchens: a cold, raw seafood kitchen, and another responsible for the hot dishes.) When I settled for an espresso when I ordered a post-meal latte, the waitress graciously comped it. Dinner for one, with a couple drinks and free coffee came to, by Copenhagen standards, a relative bargain at 55 euros, although part of that included a 3 or 4 euro charge for using a foreign credit card. With the euro crumbling, the Danes are veritably gloating with their bloody kroner, but my advice is ‘Get with the program!’ so that I can travel without having to do little currency conversion equations in my mind all day long.

I know it’s a piece of garbage, but I had in hand during the trip a 2010 edition Copenhagaen Berlitz pocket guide. One of their recommended restaurants in the Radhuspladsen district was Passagens Spicehus, described as ‘the place for Nordic food.’ I telephoned and reserved a place for one. Only when I showed up, the restaurant that I found was a Japanese venue, where I was informed that Passagens had closed shop four years ago! So, in essence, the folks at Berlitz apparently either don’t visit the venues they recommend, or simply assume that they haven’t changed in four years. Moral of the story: do not buy the Berlitz travel guides.

One of the kind chefs at the Japanese spot, upon learning that I was looking for some traditional Danish cooking recommended a small restaurant a couple blocks away next door to the Waterloo strip club, Frida’s. The menu didn’t appeal to me, so I ended up eating a couple doors down from the Gentleman’s Hollywood strip club, across from my hotel. In Copenhagen, when you ask for directions, be sure to ask for the nearest strip club, otherwise people won’t know what you’re talking about. The restaurant was the Frk. Barners Kaelder, which had all the aura of another Copenhagen landmark, though definitely not of the strip club variety. There I started off with the herring platter, which promised three varieties of herring ‘according to the cook’s mood.’ Well, it turned out that the cook was in a pickled spice (chili and cinnamon), mustard, and pickled onion kind of a mood. The ample portions of the three herring varieties were accompanied by small dishes of diced onions, capers, and solidified dripped fat. I dipped into the dripped fat, thinking it was horseradish or something like that and nearly regurgitated. When I asked the waiter if he didn’t think that maybe a bowl of solidified dripped fat wasn’t exactly on the Surgeon General’s most healthy foods list, he simply shrugged and mentioned how butter and smoking are bad for you, too, so what are you gonna do? My main dish wasn’t as intriguing – a large grilled skate fish, with a bowl of boiled potatoes, the latter of which seem as obvious as salt and pepper shakers on the Danish table. Barners has a nice terrace, but you guessed it, it was full, so I settled for a table in the quaint interior. Nothing quaint about the rather motley crew of fellow customers. At the table in front of me was a joyous, bearded Dane brandishing a blood red Satan t-shirt with the caption, ‘God is busy. Can I help you?’ The bill, including a couple glasses of wine and that hideous credit card fee, came to 55.50 euros.

Also noteworthy was the inexpensive lunch at Kaelder 12 bistro around the corner from Ida Davidsen where people like me without a reservation at Ida’s are exiled, a knowing nod from the owner upon entry. An interesting selection of smørrebrøds, and they come recommended from the folks at Ida’s, who eat at Kaelder’s, as I was informed by Ida’s joyous host who had turned me away. The priciest meal came at the expense of dinner at Els restaurant at the end of the famous Nyhavn strip of cafes, restaurants, and bars, and a few steps away from the Kongens Nytorv square, where I was accosted outside the Danish Royal Theater (Det Konelige Teater) by a dapper gentleman trying to unload a couple tickets for the evening’s performance of My Fair Lady. I was tempted, but as far as I am concerned, there was only one fair lady and that was Audrey Hepburn who, alas, is no longer with us. You can check out Els’ offerings at their website, as there was nothing much that memorable about my meal, other than the restaurant’s charming 19th century décor. Here again I opted for the herring platter entrée, and I was mildly amused to find that Els’ chef must have been in the very same mood as Barners’ cook, what with the identical selection of three types of herrings. At Els, I finally mustered up the courage to order a half bottle of wine – a S. African Shiraz, Cape Tranquility. As is true throughout Scandinavia, the wine prices are outrageous. Count on about $100 per bottle. Blame it on the economy, 100% plus restaurant mark-ups, import costs, whatever, you’ll do better simply ordering a couple akvavits with your meal. The bill at Els, for two three-course meals and the half Shiraz, totaled 140 euros. Finally, one of my more enjoyable meals was a casual lunch on the narrow glass-enclosed terrace at the Dansk Arkitektur Center's Dacafe overlooking one of the canals. I started off with an interesting terrine, followed by a very tasty open-faced grilled chicken sandwich. Lunch for two, with a couple glasses of wine came to 53 euros.

There’s more, but this should give you a flavor for Copenhagen dining. With better advanced planning, there appear to be some hidden culinary treasures in the city. My guess is that with a little effort, you can make out much better than I did. So much for the North, time to set the compass for the south and return to the Valencia region of Spain, where the the Riojas are plentiful. . . and cheap.

KODBYENS FISKEBAR
Den Hvide Kodby
Flaesketorvet 100
tel. +45 32 15 56 56
website

FRK. BARNERS KAELDER
Helgoldandsgade 8A
tel. 33 33 05 33
website

DANSK ARKITEKTUR CENTER
Strandgade 27B
tel. 32 57 19 30

ELS
Store Strandstraede 3
tel: 33 14 13 41
website

Havanita - Mother Cuba

2010-05-28T18:59:00.001-07:00

Sweet deep Spring, me and Co. cruising the cultural circuit in Bastille on a crowded Friday night. Starting off with the final dress rehearsal, invite and press only performance of Wagner’s La Walkyrie at the Bastille Opera, a little Wagner goes a long way, so we weren't too depressed bolting after Act 1 and heading over to Café de la Danse. Tickets for the iconic Portugese musician Rodrigo Leão and his Cinema Ensemble group well in hand before getting hold of the opera ducats, so there we were, standing in the passage Louis Philippe, just off the well-trodden rue de Lappe, lingering before the doors opened a good 30 minutes late – probably should have stayed for Wagner’s Act 2. (By the way, at the snack bar at the Opera, I dropped a quick 10 spot on a thimble glass of red wine and a small bottle of water. I didn’t look at the price of the sandwiches.) On the way to the Café, I stepped into the long-standing, trendy Cuban restaurant & bar, Havanita and reserved for later in the evening – the place was already hopping at 7:30 pm.

After an extremely satisfying and impeccable performance of tango-infused Portugese
music by Leão’s ensemble, it was back to Havanita, slowly seeping through the madding crowd of trendy youth, doing their Mardi Gras thing on the packed rue de Lappe. Straight to one of the café-like tables, sinking into the deep leather chairs, we debated the merits of a

3-course meal with limited time before the last trains. Our dinner ultimately compromised by the hour, we still enjoyed a leisurely meal in the boisterous atmosphere of Havana, Paris style. This was our third, I think, visit to Havanita over the years, which I remembered more for its laid-back, casual atmosphere than its gastronomic offerings.

Barely able to comprehend the carte what with the conversations raging at a decible level just under screaming so as to be heard over the non-stop Caribbean music, we settled for an entrée split of crabe farci aux saveurs des caraïbes et son chutney de pomme (7.80€). This didn’t look nearly as good as whatever it was the guy to my left had ordered (which appeared to be some shrimp in a banana leaf or something to that effect), but better than what his date was having (guacamole d’avocat). It tasted pretty good, though, as crab should, accompanied with some greens. Maybe with all that racket in the place, it wasn’t surprising when our Iman lookalike waitress glided by and asked to be reminded of Co’s choice of plat, which happened to be pièce de boeuf grilleé d’argentine, sauce aux poivres de Jamaïque et sa pureé de patate douce (16.80€). This dish didn’t look as good as those to our left and right, and the disappointment on Co’s face told me everything I needed to know about Havanita’s beef dish. A big fan of Argentinian beef, it was evident that Co. had much better back in the day, including, coincidentally, during her trip to Cuba once upon a time. (When I mentioned to Co. how she may be the only person in Havanita to have actually visited Havana, she diplomatically corrected me – doing a quick study of the youthful clientele - by suggesting maybe not the only one, but definitely the first. Mmm, and I will probably be the last.) On a more upbeat note, I thoroughly enjoyed my main dish, the ceviche de dorade et gambas sur en lit de epinard (16.80€). This was a cold dish of marinated rectangles of dorade and, once I determined where they were (nope, not under the table), small morsels of marinated gambas. This on a bed of spinach leaves, dried tomatoes, and spidery red, white, and green sprouts. Accompanied by a side order of haricots noirs (4€ supplement), I was in heaven, not especially because the meal was so spectacular, which it wasn’t, but because it was just a nice change of pace from more typical French fare. There are many other dishes to choose from, but this is one I definitely recommend.

With time rapidly spinning by, we passed on dessert and café, despite Co’s temptation to swing for a croustillant de mangue (7.50€). That temptation was tempered when the aforementioned possibility showed up on the table to my right. Looked pretty good to me, but Co. wasn’t especially impressed. My meal was washed down with a few Cubanero beers (at 6.50€ a pop), Co. settling down to water after a long day. In short, for a post-Wagnerian tango-infused Portugese sort of late-evening meal, this was a good choice for laying back (no choice with those chairs – although there are normal tables for the less-spinally challenged) and slaking one’s appetite in a popular corner of Paris. Havanita looks like a good

spot for slaking one’s thirst as well, with a well-stocked bar and a plethora of cocktail choices on the carte. Alas, another time. For a restaurant that is more atmosphere than fabulously authentic Cuban cuisine (not even a bloody bottle of tabasco on the table! Sacre bleu!), it’s a little surprising that Havanita still packs them in after so many years, especially on a street where the neon signs change with such rapidity. It could be that Havanita has risen to the heights of a Bastille landmark, or that there are so few Cuban/Caribbean venues in Paris, who knows? But how I would love to see a truly authentic, cutting edge Southwestern American grille, Mexican cantina (though Celito Lindo next door to Havanita can be considered one of the better Mexican spots in town), Caribbean venue in Paris! Until that time, if it ever comes, spots like Havanita will have to do.

HAVANITA CAFÉ

11, rue de Lappe
75011 Paris
tel: 01 43 55 96 42
Even the website is noisy!

Agapes – Pour the Wine, Hold the Kids

2010-05-19T17:30:00.000-07:00

Agapes – sounds familiar, doesn’t it ? So thought Co. and I as we passed the restaurant at the intersection of rue Poliveau and rue des Fossés Saint-Marcel, on our way a few doors down to L’Agrume earlier this month. Sure enough, a search reveals some other Agapes in France, one higher priced with apparently high aspirations in the 16th and one in my old vacation stomping grounds down in St. Palais in southwest France. But Co. and I are pretty sure we’ve never stepped inside any of these. If you’re not familiar with the language, the French ‘agapes’ essentially means ‘banquet’ or ‘feast’, so it’s not surprising more than one restaurateur has glommed onto it as a restaurant name. And it starts with ‘A’, meaning you’ll be listed right at the top of whatever list your restaurant is likely to be listed on. Anyway, we perused the displayed menu outside Agapes in the 5th and decided it was worth a try.

I wouldn’t dub Agapes Restaurant either the banquet place or the feast place, but I would say after our visit last Friday night that it is a worthy spot for a traditional French meal with a small degree of creative flair, reasonably priced, and tres auberge-like. Yes, I could imagine this spot somewhere out in the countryside, maybe on the way to a weekend of ski, with its warm and comfortably woodsy interior and its laid back, pleasant servers. With a smile.

One of those aforementioned servers kicked off our meal with a mise en bouche – two simple, but interesting morsels of bread accompanied by a mustard sauce. I was tempted to order a 2005 Bourgogne Pinot Noir “Louis Gras” (27.90€), only to be informed by our server that it wasn’t available – too bad, it’s been a while for the Pinot. This, however, provided the opportunity for a useful tidbit of information – he explained that the restaurant was about to go on a short hiatus for renovations and redecorating, so when you go, you will go to the ‘new and improved’ Agapes. Which explains the light stock in the cave during our visit. I settled for wine door number two, a perrenial favorite, a 2007 St Nicolas de Bourgueil “Domaine de la Cabernelle” (24.50€) – it was available and it did not disappoint. (More than once, the bottle was delicately taken from my hand by an accommodating server as I went to pour.)

The Bourgueil effectively washed down a tasty but unspectacular three course menu, priced at 30€. (The restaurant also offers a market-determined 5-course ‘Menu Gourmand’ at 56€, including apératif and café). [No food photos, but I swiped a couple representative images from the Agapes website.] I started off with an entrée of rouget barbet, accompanied by a sauce vigneronne and épinard-moelle. I really enjoyed this, but I am not a big fan of bone marrow, which essentially is what the ‘moelle’ refers to. Nonetheless, it was an inspired complement to the rouget. I was busily contemplating the little ceramic bowl inside of which rested a small cluster of greens – uhm, nope, can’t eat that part - only to eventually discover it wasn’t a ceramic bowl after all, duh, but a hollow bone, thus reflecting on the rouget preparation. The eyes – after the knees, they’re the next to go. With a 5€ supplement, Co. went with the foie gras de canard rôti, en terrine, fruits marinés (tangerines, I believe), sangria réduite. Co. is a tough cookie to crack when it comes to foie gras, having been raised on the stuff, but she seemed satisfied with this preparation.

On to the plates – for a main course I threw caution to the wind and ordered what normally isn’t my preference – unlike rouget, which is always high up on my ‘I want that’ scale – rabbit! Auberge, France, lapin – I don’t know about you, but they seem to go together for me, so there it was, râble de lapin fermier (i.e., the meaty breast), ses abats au beurre d’escargot, amandes grillées. Bearing in mind I am not a lapin connaisseur, this did the job for me, even if it didn’t knock my socks off, or untie my shoes even. Co. opted for the poisson de jour from Brittany which, if memory serves me correct, was a cabaillaud. I had a couple tastes and it was fresh and well-pepared. For dessert, I had a diet deadly Le cacao, basically a chocolate pudding with tuile craquante. I admit it, I’m a sucker for anything craquante in a dessert, so just stick that word in the description (in this case, crème et tuile craquante, viennois au fruit de la passion) and I am hooked. Just take that ‘craquante’ out of the description and what happens? You don’t want it. Well, this turned out to be pretty tasty. Co. took the orange-kiwi (minestrone au marsala, biscuit pistache) and seemed, well, to tell you the truth, I don’t know what she seemed. So there you have it, two 3-course menus, wine, and 2 cafés, for a total 92.30€.

Drum roll, please, it is now time for my monthly tirade. Having arrived rather early, we were seated in the roomier back room and it seemed like the place to be. By the main dish I was fully convinced how misguided our choice was, after glancing at the serene, calm atmosphere in the smaller and more somber front room. Directly behind our table, two couples who happened to bring along for dinner at a fine Parisian establishment – I hope you are sitting down – children! Two of whom were tamed, and the other, the young one dressed in a Batman T, untamed, with enormously distressing consequences. Now, one thing about eating out with Co. is that she always picks the seat facing the interior of the restaurant, leaving me contemplating activities on the street (if there’s a window) or the facing wall, where hopefully there is some artwork that I can memorize every fine detail of by dessert; otherwise, it comes down to, ‘is that an insect?’ So usually when we leave a restaurant, Co. will say something like, ‘hey Mort, you know that guy sitting a few tables away who…’ and I will respond with ‘there was another guy in the restaurant?’ Anyway, at first, I just assumed that those noises I kept hearing during my entrée were someone’s jungle sounds CD playing from next door, but by the time the little imp was lifting sugarcubes from the bowl accompanying my coffee, I
realized a ‘jungle music okay, but no kids allowed’ policy might not be misguided. True, I imagine most Parisian restaurateurs simply assume, what unthinking rubes would dare bring un enfant – a child, mon Dieu! – into my wonderfully French restaurant? Of course, this will not happen here! So in lieu of a ‘no kids allowed’ policy (which is not as rare as you might think in Paris), here is my advice to parents (choose one): (1) bring your kids to dinner, but sedate them first; (2) bring your kids to dinner, but keep them under the table, with a bowl of water (or milk); (c) on the way to dinner, drop your kids off at McDo; or (4) learn and apply the following term: ‘babysitter.’ I counted two or three moments where le petit Batman nearly tripped a server loaded up with plates. You know that look when a disapproving adult glances at a child - you know the one that says ‘I could strangle the little bugger’ – that’s the one I saw more than once at Agapes. Hey, you can’t fault Agapes – I doubt they fielded the reservation request with the addendum, ‘and don’t forget to bring your little monstres’! But it was a thorn in our side during the meal and the next time we think of Agapes I am sure we’ll be running for our Batmobile and speeding off in the other direction.

AGAPES RESTAURANT

47 bis rue Poliveau
75005 Paris
tel: 01 43 31 69 20
Internet site: www.restaurant-agapes.com (with video)

L’Agrume – Gracious Humility

2010-05-01T18:56:00.000-07:00

Nice expression, ‘gracious humility,’ too bad I hadn’t thought of it first. No, that honor goes to New York Times Magazine food editor Christine Muhlke, describing L’Agrume as such in a recent article about some new, affordable hotspots on the Paris restaurant scene. Stealing that description for this installment’s review should make it pretty obvious that I agree. Nothing ostentatious or gratuitous in the delicate and inspired preparation of dishes at L’Agrume, which isn’t meant to suggest Parisian snobbishness. Quite the opposite, the atmosphere in the smallish gray/black modern two-room bistrot (one out of view downstairs) is laid back, comfortable, animated, and, of course, packed. And, as Co. & I were informed by under-40 chef/owner Franck Marchesi-Grandi’s conjoint/hostess, Karine Perrin, since that Times piece ran a couple weeks ago, packed more with Americans than French. And sure enough, the first table to fill after our arrival as the evening’s openers consisted of four vociferous Americanos, whom I overheard uttering ‘New York Times’ several times during their meal. When will discretion become the better part of valor so that some people—I’m not naming names—will remember my famous restaurant motto : you are not at home, so please…SHUT UP !

Power of the printed word – who says newspapers are dead ? The Times’ (that’s the fourth time, I know) mention of L’Agrume in toto comprised a mere 85cm (or 3.5 inches) – six sentences, yet enough to send hordes of English-speaking foodies off the beaten path to L’Agrume. Not that the restaurant needs any help – the word already had gotten out—yes, that’s right, hard to believe, even before my review—that L’Agrume’s 5-course menu dégustation represents one of the best deals in town, that town being PARIS. Of course, a little worldwide publicity doesn’t hurt.

Okay, down to business, bearing in mind that the 5-course meal—not the only choice, by the way, as there is an ala carte menu as well—is apt to change on a regular basis. No mise-en-bouche at the outset, but a nice little chat with the diminutive, black-clad Mme Perrin, got us settled comfortably into a nice little nook in the front by the window, but still in view of the open kitchen, where Monsieur Marchesi-Grandi was hard at work preparing the evening’s delicacies, aided by a young, female assistant. There you have it – two advantages to being the first to arrive : you have a non-harried hostess to chat up and you get your pick of tables. With two assistants handling the upstairs and downstairs rooms, service ran like a well-oiled machine late into the evening. First up was a finely prepared tartare de dorade grise lié à la chair d’araignée Pomelos et pomme verte. This is my kind of opener,
a perfectly constructed slightly salted mound of fish tartar with a sweet fruity counterpoint. My highest compliment : ‘More !’ Unfortunately, Co. smacked my hand and socked my jaw so that I wouldn’t bring undue attention to our table when I pulled out my phone and tried to snap a photo of the first course. But the accompanying photo (top) taken from the Paris Notebook blog’s review of L’Agrume bears a striking resemblance. (The other photo from Simon Says is of a L'Agrume fish dish not among those we sampled during our visit.) The tartar was followed by a dish consisting of vinegrette de pommes charlotte – asperges vertes et foie gras. Very French, very excellent foie gras. Next up, a small slab of bourride de Saint Pierre, the sumptuous fish accompanied by thinly sliced green peppers and chorizo. Fourth course consisted of extremely tender slices of basse côte de bœuf ‘Black Angus’ rôti, with carrots and red onions. Our hostess obliged without a moan, merci, when I asked to have the beef dish supplanted by a non-red meat offering. My substitute consisted of a satisfying piece of broiled dorade – more fish, true, but no problemo, bring it on. Our dessert brought the evening’s tally to a perfect five for five courses : fraises et coulis de pêches Blanches, crème fourettée vanillée et feuilletage. As far as I’m concerned, you can’t go wrong when you add a crusty feuilleté with fresh strawberries and cream, and if you are an impeccable chef like M. Marchesi-Grandi sneaking in a virtually invisible layer of white peaches, you really can’t go wrong. So to steal again from Ms. Muhlke, you can find fancier meals in Paris restaurants, but perhaps none so gracious.

If there was one drawback to the evening it was our wine. A tasty 2008 bottle of Bourguiel Gueil – Catherine & Pierre Breton at 32€ unfortunately had a very slight taste of cork throughout, but which really wasn’t immediately evident. So much for my finely attuned oenological sense of taste. The wine and end-of-meal espresso brought the bill to a 105€ total, almost criminal given the high quality of the meal. And there appears to be an even better deal awaiting lunch-goers.

In my research for L’Agrume, I was struck by this heading from the Simon Says blog: ‘La réponse au sadisme ambiant.’ Wait a minute, I know my French isn’t the greatest, but what the hell does ‘the response to ambient sadism’ mean? Please, someone, enlighten me. Well, the review itself also seemed a bit above my coherence level, so I turned, as most of us ex-pats ultimately do, to Google translator, recently rated by the New York Times (back again!) as the most accurate online translator to date. So here are just some English translated snippets from M. Simon’s unique tongue :

It is still accelerating Pretties narcissistic undergoing gastronomy. Here it is struck by a kind of unbridled exhibitionism with reality shows. This world is so peaceful unrecognizable in this new great dance agitated. Leaders and caring as if truculent Constant become Taras Bulba sadis young chicks to tears.

It is still far from what is really a chef: passionate but something a bit deeper than the dishes scraped with powdered ginger, yuzu and syringe sweatshirt with shaved Parmesan. Suddenly, there is something calm, velvety chestnut and plates subsided.

If this universe shines in big tables fly high, research and talent, it is inseparably associated with a more everyday, and closer to us. Long live the big names, but kudos to those working in the shadows, in neon! If they remain our favorite tables is that they want us closer, more friendly in their search reasoned. Here is an address and extra cut in the coupon so sentimental. It's called L’Agrume, a restaurant high to a grasshopper no bigger than a pancake.

OH-KAY….I’m sorry I just can’t compete with that sort of, ahem, eloquence. At the same time, I thank the restaurant gods that we were spared the syringe sweatshirt, and I am slapping myself silly for not having the acumen to recognize how L’Agrume is not unlike a grasshopper no bigger than a pancake. It is only fair, you can find Francois Simon’s words in their natural tongue at the Simon Says website. I must add M. Simon’s concluding assessment, which I think says it all: ‘You'll love this address simple, stark, it's like a javelin tasty. Yippee!’ Tasty javelin?! N’importe quoi.

L'AGRUME
15, rue des Fossés Saint-Marcel 75005 Paris
01 43 31 86 48
Métro 5 Saint-Marcel, Métro 7 Les Gobelins

Le Relais Guillaume De Normandy - Somethin' on the Dock of the Baie

2010-04-25T17:19:00.000-07:00

As the sun ominously dipped behind La Baie de Somme, I stood outside the gates of the chosen restaurant for the evening, Le Relais Guillaume de Normandy, a chill emanating off the dark waters as night descended. I think it was at that point that I nervously intoned, ‘Uh, Co., I hate to say this, but I think we took a wrong turn in Eu and have ended up at the house of the Addams Family. . . da da da da, snap snap.’ A child neither of 1930s New Yorker cartoons nor 1960s schlock American TV, my French companion could only gaze wonderingly at this madman before her. It was that kind of week. Instead of visiting the Ferdinand Brasserie on the canal of Aarhus, Denmark as I had planned—the plans having been dashed by an Icelandic volcanic cloud of ash that served to ground my plane and 100s of others—I instead found myself spending a weekend vacation along the Normandy coast with Co. visiting a gothic seaside restaurant/hotel, among other assorted and asundry attractions. Well, I guess it could have been worse: to wit, I could have been awaiting another airport meal.

Despite the uncanny similarity to aforementioned macabre Addams house, a glance around the restaurant revealed a distinctly uncharacteristically Addams waitstaff and clientele. Although perhaps if one of our waitresses had been a bit more like Morticia and a lot less like Lurch, I probably would have enjoyed the dinner experience a bit more.

Contrary to expectations, the interior of Relais—widely rated online as a top restaurant in Saint-Valery-Sur-Somme (but definitely not a top hotel)—was sunnier than I expected, reminiscent of a decent Cape Cod seafood restaurant, but lo and behold, it offered no view of the bay as we had hoped (at least not from our vantage point in the restaurant’s main dining room).

The extensive carte offered four different menus—not including the ‘menu enfants—ranging from the 3-course 18€ ‘menu tradition’ to the 5-course 43€ ‘menu Baie de Somme.’ As fate would have it, we were tempted by the middle two four-course menus, with Co. enchanted by the 33€ ‘menu decouverte’ and me bewitched by the 26€ ‘menu terroir.’ To make a long story short, the choices comprising these two menus are reproduced below from the Relais’s website.

I started with the salad de mache, which came with two creamy circles of shrimp butter and mackerel spread and four thin slices of grilled country bread. This was a pretty simple and unimposing dish, but it suited me fine, especially as washed down with our slightly bitter choice of wine, a 2005 Victoria II Haut-Medoc (21.50€). Co. meanwhile was impressed with her langoustine and pork foot-filled pastry. The idea of anything edible coming out of a pork foot is so anathema to me that I nearly resisted tasting her dish, but Co. was diplomatic enough to have eliminated the porcine aspects of the two heaping forkfuls that she graciously set in the direction of my mouth and I’m glad she did. Moving on to the main dish, despite a disappointing mango embellished portion of barbue, a river fish on Co’s side, my filet de plie (plaice fish) in a sauce comprised of bouchot mussels and coques proved to be the highlight of the meal. This was a light and sumptuous fish, one of the tastiest I’ve had in a long time. It didn’t hurt that I followed this dish up with a circle of roasted chevre with honey and pignons on a small square of toast, which also beat Co’s choice of three cheeses and salad hands down. My gratin de pomme flambé with calvados also had the edge over Co’s choice of a strawberry dessert, which came enveloped within a crepe. What can I say? When you’re on a roll, you’re on a roll, and that 26€ menu turns out to be a clear winner when stacked up against its 33€ competition. Go figure. All told, skipping coffee, our evening racked up a more than reasonable sum of 80.50€. Try finding two 4-course meals with wine in Paris for that price, I challenge you.

Overall, this was a satisfying enough dinner, and if you happen to be cruising along the Normandy coast sometime, volcano ash cloud notwithstanding, the Relais certainly warrants a detour. In and of itself, it wouldn’t justify a 2 to 2-1/2 hour drive from Paris, but I guess that goes without saying. Although our trip was a short one, my research revealed a few additional hidden gems in the Baie de Sommes environs. Our mussels/frites/ salad lunch at the Restaurant Les Canotiers (on the port) in Le Crotoy was typical and satisfying, despite my failure to locate the recommended La Grignotine (5, porte de Pont) for the same. On the road in Picardie, we took a little spin to check out the carte at Le Cle Des Champs in Favieres and it is one I’ll definitely keep on my list – good potential there. Back in Le Crotoy I was tempted by L’Auberge de la Marine, whose hotel sounds like a real Addams Family nightmare, but whose food merits a lot of praise online and in the guidebooks. In Amiens, Les Marissons (68 Rue des Marissons) caused some real trepidation – elegantly situated on the town’s central canal – Co. yin-ed, having read some strong positive reviews, while I yang-ed, having read a number of terrible critiques online before our trip. If you’ve been there, please solve the mystery. We passed this time.

LE RELAIS GUILLAUME DE NORMANDY
Qaui du Romerel
80230 Saint-Valery-sur-Somme
tel: 03 22 60 82 36

Note: The hotel choices in the Baie de Sommes region leave a lot to be desired, but we fared more than comfortably at a B&B in Eu, a traditional manor hideaway where we reserved a 3rd floor suite for a mere 60 euros, the Manoir de Beaumont (route de Beaumont, email: catherine@demarquet.eu). Not exactly bristling with amenities (croissant breakfast, map, bathroom), no wifi, no TV, no radio. But at that price, who can complain?

Down and Dirty With the Sarkos at Big Ben’s

2010-04-07T18:37:00.000-07:00

It is already old news, the Sarkos’ recent visit to the US to slum it in Obama-ville, but my once reliable and speedy DC contacts aren’t what they used to be.
Nonetheless, I can’t resist the opportunity to give equal discursion to the culinary predilections on US shores of the increasingly indigestable, hyperactive Napoleonic wanabee (give the man some Ritalin!) after giving coverage to the widely-beloved (well, more or less) O-man when he and Michelle visited Paris (see last June’s post).

For those who have followed the trajectory of Sarko’s career, you are already aware that his relationship with living beef and farmers (we’ll get to the cover girl models soon enough) has not been a smooth one. Back in February 2008, there was that nasty incident at the annual Paris Agriculture Show—one of the yearly highlights of the French political scene—Nicky lost his temper when a farmer refused to dirty his hand by shaking Sarko’s, throwing fuel on the fire that Sarko cannot connect with rural France. (It didn’t help matters that his predecessor, Jacques Chirac, would spend countless hours of his presidency schmoozing with cows and tasting produce on the farm.) Okay, he may have told the ‘stupid asshole’ to ‘fuck off’, but once cooler heads prevailed, Sarko was pushing hard for French cuisine to be listed by the UN agency Unesco, as part of the world’s cultural heritage.

All this is simply pedantic background leading up to the recent US visit. Ever eager to create a good impression with anyone other than farmers, we might well have expected the Sarkos to make a pit stop for Le Big Mac at a DC McDonald’s, just to make clear, ‘yo, Americans, no hard feelings over that freedom fries imbroglio.’ But where the Sarkos go, the Sarkos go in style, so forget the McDo idea, and say ‘bonjour’ to Ben’s Chili Bowl, a Washington landmark since 1958, a claim boldly displayed on the restaurant’s façade. Leading up to a black tie dinner at the White House, the Sarkos chowed down for lunch at the shabby U Street venue with Ben’s specialties, chili dogs and half-smokes (hotdogs with a somewhat spicy, cholesterol laden sausage center).

Ben’s may have a storied history (see the restaurant’s website), but let’s face it, a fast-food joint is a fast-food joint, and I can’t find evidence of anyone waxing euphoric over Ben’s burgers and dogs. This assessment from Richard Adams’ blog at guardian.co.uk, is hardly flattering, but probably pretty accurate:

Sadly, the only problem with Ben's Chili Bowl is that while the atmosphere is great, the food is mediocre, even by fast food
standards. The signature "chili" is oily and very salty, and is itself mild but
served at a ferociously hot temperature. Le Monde's Washington correspondent summed it up pretty well: "une institution devenue assez touristique où l'on mange des hot-dogs".

I realize, you are about to pass out from all the suspense, but now it is time to get down to everybody’s favorite question, ‘Just who is boning Carla on the side?’ Kidding! And no, for the last time, it was not me who set off those nasty rumors about extramarital sexual shenanigans emanating from the Elysée Palace. No, I am sure the question on everyone’s minds is, “So what the hell did they eat at Ben’s already, mon dieu?!” A simple question, I grant you, but as always seems to be the case in Washington, things are never what they seem, where there are at least three sides to every story. In this case, those sides appear to be fries, chips, and soda.

An initial report from TMZ claimed that Sarko ordered a chili dog, fries, and a Coke, while his favorite off the runway French pop singer opted for a turkey burger, which she apparently didn’t eat. As a nice embellishment to this unconfirmed report, TMZ had the prez leaving a $100 tip. Au contraire, according to the Washington Post, which asserted that both Sarko and his third lady had a “chili burger and a half-smoke,” while one of Sarko’s offspring from a previous marriage ordered a burger. Then there was the New York Times’ The Caucus,” which boasted of learning directly from Ben’s manager Doris Pollard, who served the French visitors: “The Sarkozys, accompanied by Mr. Sarkozy’s two sons by a previous marriage, had — get this — two half smokes each.” Flash!! Ex-Model, Svelt Yeh-Yeh Girl Gorges on Two, That’s Right Two, Half Dogs. Ooh la la. And didn’t the Huffington Post report that there was only one son, 12-year-old petit Louie, who lives with model #1 Cecilia Attias in New York, who was joined not by his brother, but by a friend? Details, details. Let’s face it, whatever they ate, and whoever was with them, it was greasy and not too healthy, and the preponderance of evidence suggests Carla had more than her fare share, as in ‘seconds.’ (Every time I tried to reach her personal number, she hung up on me. I say it again, I did not start those rumors!). According to Ms. Pollard, the former model “looked wonderful, in gray slacks and a black top. She’s so tall and stately and pretty.” (Is beauty in the eyes of the beholder or what?) But keep eating those double half smokes, my dear, and we’ll see what happens to that figure.

Meanwhile, back at the White House, Nickie’s American counterpart had a healthier lunch, what exactly I cannot say because I am not at liberty to disclose state secrets. When informed of the Sarko’s jaunt to Ben’s, Obama seemed impressed. Rather than ho hum the visit with a “been there, done that” (see accompanying photo of BO wolfing one down at Ben's), the svelt President commended the Sarkozys on their "discriminating palate."

If you are the French president accompanied by svelt wife numero trois, and you “drop all pretense” to visit a famous hotdog spot for lunch, isn’t that pretty pretentious after all? But let’s face it, it’s a far cry from old St. Nicolas’ favorite haunt in the French capital, the Michelin 3-star Hotel Bristol, where Elysée’s most admired chef, Eric Fréchon, holds court.

BEN'S CHILI BOWL
1213 U Street, NW
Washington, DC 20009
tel. 202-667-0909

Pramil - Achtung! Let's Fall in Love?

2010-04-02T15:39:00.001-07:00

Latest excursion to Paris 3, not far from Republique and a short stroll from the Temple metro stop. Highly anticipated, Pramil was on some 'go to' lists and given this endorsement by Fooding 2010: 'charming decor, serious wine, sincere cooking...We say: "Let's do it, let's fall in love..." If that wasn't enough to pique my taste buds, here's another rave from an online forum (http://www.eat-out.net): We dined at pramil on our last night in paris, the atmosphere very intimate, service perfect, presentation perfect, farm fresh produce excellent, good wine list and menu variety well balanced, loved it !!

Now, let me be honest - honest Mort is what they used to call me on the streets of Baltimore - I don't necessarily disagree with these assessments, but unlike aforementioned citations, I did not fall in love with Pramil and ended up the evening with an indecisive yet decidedly south of positive reaction of 'eh'. Or as Co. phrased it, 'it was good but nothing to rave (sic) home about.'

Is sincerity enough anymore? Not in my book. If I'm going to spend 100 euros and up for a meal, I expect more than sincerity - I expect something pretty damn special, with a mise en bouche and some little patisseries thrown in with the cafe to boot. None of which were forthcoming from Pramil. The evening began with me and Co. being overtaken on Vertbois by a verbose contingent of Germans who, lo and behold, were headed to the same destination. They were already through the door and admitting they had not reserved when we made our grand entrance, me trying to project an expression that 'no way am I with them.' As they disappointingly filed back out through the door, the leader of the pack mentioned to the hostess, 'well, tomorrow night then', whereupon the hostess threw back that sort of expression that reeked of, 'don't count on it.' Let me understand - you visit a restaurant on a Friday night only to be told that it is filled. So you expect a different outcome on Saturday night? Wouldn't you at least ask if it were possible to book a table for tomorrow night? But then, what do I know, as I sometimes ask myself. Who can account for the affairs of men and state and, oh lord, unthinking tourists.

We were seated in the little room in the back - way back - with sun roof through which no sun was evident - this is Paris afterall. Pleasant hostess takes our order but wimped out when it came to recommendations. When I say I am hesitating between (a)Cake aux choux fleur avec confiture de piment and (b) salade de lentilles et calamars and wanted to know which was the more creative dish, I was basically informed that one's taste is personal. So French, so I opted for the one I didn't know (a). Co., also opting for the 30 euro formule, chose the asparagus soup with creme of fois gras. My cakes were probably difficult to make, but nothing spectacular. Nonetheless, the small dollop accompaniment of piment jelly really elevated this dish from the hohum. Too bad that dollop was so small. In discussing with the chef (M. Alain Pramil?) later, I was informed that 'it is so spicy, a little bit goes a long way,' not aware that yours truly drinks bottles of tabasco sauce for breakfast. In true love, who wants to settle for only one nice little bite? Co. seemed to have enjoyed her cream of asparagus, to the point that I was afraid she was going to lick the bowl, but in retrospect she dubbed it merely as 'good, no more.'

Moving on to the main dishes, I quickly downed the eight coquilles saint-jacques in a garlic cream sauce while Co. slowly worked her way through a plat du jour, a lamb salee, with fenouil and feve (green beans not unlike Japanese endamame). My sauce was quite good as the go-with the scallops and Co. described her lamb thusly: 'tender, tasty, and perfumed' (or TTP in restaurant blogging circles). Her myrtille (bilberry) and my homemade nougat glace desserts provided a solid but non-spectacular finish to a solid but non-spectacular meal. Co. preferred something light for drinking purposes, so I went with the Irancy Benoit Cantin 2006 super legere Bourgogne at 28 euros. Nice selection of wines, well thought-out choices with some unexpected surprises.

What can I say - this all probably sounds pretty good on paper and I would have to agree that it was all pretty good on paper (in fact the bill remained south of the century mark (91 euros for two 3-course meals and wine). Just nothing to rave home about. When it comes to love, who wants to settle for 'eh'?

PRAMIL
tel: 01 42 72 03 60
no web site

La Table D’Eugène - Jean Genie

2010-03-13T17:24:00.000-08:00

No, not Jean Genet, not David Bowie, not Eugene Finkelstein (my lab partner in 4th grade), and not even the 19th-century French novelist Joseph Marie Eugène Sue (though you are definitely getting warm). No, La Table D’Eugène, an increasingly popular little bistrot in a multi-cultural section of the 18th is named after the street on which it rests, rue Eugène Sue, numero 18 to be precise. Co. and I reserved for Friday night, first serving (19h45; a second serving commences at 22h), and walked the short 1-1/2 blocks from the Marcadet-Poissonniers metro, nearly in the shadow of the Sacre-Coeur and the touristy district of Montmartre, huddled together in the still cold Parisian air, unaware that we were heading to our best meal of the still young year.

If there is one word that I hope characterizes this review site, it is “truth.” Try as they might to blackmail me with lobster tails, crates of champagne, and good old-fashioned cash to wax effusively about their venues, restaurateurs know I cannot be swayed (though when it comes to lobster tails, I am definitely open to suggestion). So let me begin my review of our experience at TDE by first debunking some claims that I have come upon online; to wit:

1. Impossible to reserve (paris.menupages.com) – Not! While this complaint may accurately reflect the rising status of the venue, this reviewer had no difficulty reserving a table for two at either serving four days before said reservation. True, it was packed by the time we left (and when a party of six arrives at 21h15, does that mean they are late for the first serving, early for the second, or just plain idiots?). If you wait the day before to reserve, or even worse as I watched a couple couples turned away at the door without any reservation at all, well, there’s always the shish-kabob place around the corner.

2. Too expensive (hungryforparis.squarespace.com). Nuh-uh. Everything’s relative, and as my long-deceased relative Aunt Rose (ex-owner of a steak house in Huntington Beach, CA many, many years ago) used to tell me, “In this life, Mort, you get what you pay for.” Our bill for two 35€ menus, a 23€ bottle of Vin de Table Sorga red, a 3€ supplement for a rabbit entrée, and two post-hoc cafés came to an incredibly reasonable 102€, pretty par for a just short of Michelin star-friendly meal, and more affordable than other lesser quality bistrots I’ve frequented over the years. And while I’m ranting, I’m surprised that Alexander Lobrano, author of the hungryforparis site, whom I generally find to be a very knowledgeable and engaging authority on French restaurants, also got the wine list wrong as well, calling it “top heavy”. I found an affordable bottle in nearly every category (25-35€), leading to a much wider and affordable selection than you’ll find elsewhere. Don’t get me wrong – Lobrano and I do agree that Eugene is a top spot.

3. Service is slow. (www.eat-out.net). Once again, I beg to differ. If attentive service is one’s definition of ‘slow,’ well then I give up, it’s slow. Two young servers among the best I can remember in a long time in a Paris venue proved efficient, not slow. Strange as it may seem, they really seemed to care. For example, as I settled into the wine list and pointed to a Cote du Rhone, our server seemed perplexed, ultimately dissuading me, explaining how the wine would definitely conflict with our dinner selections. I’m not one to nitpick when it comes to mixing and matching, but I had to let expertise take the place of valor when the server started raving about a cheaper, that's right, cheaper Vin de Table (which I never, ever would have considered, equating that term with a 3€ Fran Prix supermarket special), the aforementioned Sorga, and how it was the first run of an upstart southern vinyard that would superbly complement our meal. As I tasted the Sorga, he began to explain the taste, it’s piquancy, how it would yield a somewhat sparkling gaseous sensation under the tongue, and by the time I swallowed, he had perfectly nailed what had just transpired in my mouth but which I could never have adequately described on my own. I wonder how do they do that? He assured us that the sparkling sensation would subside after a few minutes of aerating the bottle and sure enough, it did. Okay, granted, it’s not like you don’t get recommendations from sommeliers in Paris restaurants, but this server and his partner throughout the meal kept checking, explaining, and lingering unobtrusively just to be sure, even when the room filled up, no copy of War and Peace required.

4. Colorful entrées almost make up for uneven main courses. (Fooding, Le Guide France 2010). If this ever was true, it either isn’t anymore, or the main dishes that Co. and I selected were just lucky choices. In fact, I think we both preferred the main course to the entrées, which isn’t intended to deride the latter.

I could go on, but it’s getting late and I really should start talking about the food, which, in fact, I already have begun to do. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since creating this site it is this: My handwriting after a few drinks is as bad as it is when I wake up in the middle of the night to scrawl down my next Pulitzer-ready idea, only to find complete gibberish in the light of the morning. So, until I find a better system, please bear with the following description, taken from my hastily jotted scribblings. Co. launched her meal with a rabbit dish, with the rabbit cooked two ways, a rable de lapin and lapin farcie with veal and ginger. This was an originally prepared and satisfying starter and probably eked out my choice, but only barely. I opted for a dish of gambas and chiperons, elegantly arranged on a bed of tiny vegetables. The chiperons were perfectly cooked, without the rubbery quality one often finds, and once consumed, the plate surprisingly held the remnants of an excellent balsamic (I think) based sauce that required three good sized scoops of the tablespoon. That leftover sauce was worth the price of admission in and of itself. Co. followed up with the roti bar on a bed of chou vert and spume and the following praise: ‘excellent, definitely, extremely tasty and tender.’ Thanks, Co. As for me, I keep heading in the direction of magret de canard, don't ask me why, it's just the way things are these days. My incoherent notes seem to suggest that the magret came with "eamach with greia”, which for all I know could be Gaelic for something tasty, but probably is just the Sorga talking. I do remember, aha, that the rosé-cooked magret was a pretty significant slab, topped with its crunchy skin and accompanied with pear soaked in wine and pear not soaked in wine, as well as a rectangular-shaped, slightly grilled rack of polenta. Overall, the combination was superb, although I’d still love to remember what that eamach with greia was all about.

Where did I read that Eugene’s desserts were disappointing? Au contraire, I am happy to report. Our dessert choices turned out to be the highlights of our meal, both the citron with sable dish and the chocolate dessert, but especially the chocolate dessert, which arrived as what appeared to be a medium-sized scoop of chocolate ice cream, but once topped with a cacahuète-based sauce at the table, magical things started to happen, recalling that Sorga-induced tingling sensation in the mouth and a crunchiness from somewhere. This was a metamorphic and memorable dish.

Overall, if you haven’t figured it out yet, our experience at TDE was really top notch, not yet at the level of a Michelin star, but it may not be long. The Fooding 2010 guide concludes its review with “Keep trying, Gene, you’re getting there!” Well, it’s probably gotten closer, and let's not forget that it is only a small step from genie to genius. A mise en bouche and/or a couple pastries with the café wouldn’t hurt, and what do Parisian restaurateurs have against music? With a relatively young, contemporary clientele, some cool vibes could boost the already convivial atmosphere.

LA TABLE D’EUGÈNE

Néobistrot
18, rue Eugène-Sue
75018 Paris tel. 01 42 55 61 64
No website!
Closed Sunday and Monday