Time of the Season - 2012 Greatest Hits

It's that time of the year again when I say "It's that time of the year again."  Time to look back at another year on the restaurant scene, both here (Paris) and farther afield - this time as far as Chinle, AZ, where as you will read below, frightening things await.

As in the past, this is not intended as a 'best of ' list  in the sense of 'best restaurant in Paris' - I probably can't afford that one anyway - but rather in a more personal, 'this is the best restaurant I ate at in Paris this year' sort of way.

2012 Favorite: Le Chateaubriand.

I am sure this is old news, since many have long since waxed eloquently about this Paris venue, but when I think about the meals that really stood out this past year, Chateaubriand keeps coming to mind.  There was that great dinner Co. and I had with our pardners from the US of A, highlighted by an amazing turbot, fenouil, and poutargue dish (1st photo), and the follow-up this past November, with the memorable lait ribot, herbes, beurre noisette and tocino del cielo  dessert (2nd photo), 3/4s of which consisted of ingredients that rarely appear on dessert plates.  Chateaubriand has its detractors, but who cares?  It's to be expected when the chef - in this case, Inaki Aizpitarte - dares to take risks with creative manifestations that do not always work - but hey that's what experimentation is all about, sometimes you just can't reject the null hypothesis.  All I know is that I'm always surprised at Chateaubriand, and mostly in a good way, and I love when the place starts building a buzz as the evening unfolds with a diverse mix of diners and laid back bohemian servers.  I'm also impressed that those servers never fall through the trap door behind the bar, which curiously remains open for much of the evening (3rd photo).  And, yes, Monsieur Aizpitarte does uncannily resemble Joe Flacco, had the latter decided to give up quarterbacking for the Baltimore Ravens and become a famous Parisian chef.

 

 

LE CHATEAUBRIAND: 129 ave. Parmentier, 75011 Paris, tel: 01.43.57.45.95

Best New Paris Restaurant Movement: La Dolce Italia.

To be honest, this probably isn't a movement at all, and if it is, it was no doubt underway before I came upon it, but the influx of really good Italian restaurants in the capital is certainly a welcome trend.  Two quite enjoyable dinners in 2012 were had at the Italian spots, Caffe dei Cioppi and Vilia.  At the latter, the elegantly simple bowl of DeCecco rigatoni and parmesan cheese got me buying DeCecco pasta and parmesan cheese the rest of the year, though not with the same effect.  I wouldn't go so far as to call La Gazzetta an Italian restaurant because it is oh so much more, but I can at least mention it here because, after all, this is my blog and I can babble to my heart's content.  Seriously, Gazzetta continues to be a personal favorite that I get back to as frequently as possible, for some of the same reasons that keep me returning to Chateaubriand.

Finally, although it has nothing to do with Italy, our return visit (finally) to Septime proved well worth the wait.

CAFFE DEI CIOPPI: 159, rue du Faubourg St. Antoine, Paris, tel: 01.43.46.10.14 

VILIA:  26, rue de Cotte, 75012 Paris, tel: 09.80.44.20.15        

LA GAZZETTA: 29, rue de Cotte, 5012 Paris, tel: 01.43.37.47.05

SEPTIME:  80, rue de Charonne, 75011 Paris, tel: 01.43.67.38.29

Worst Restaurant of 2012, USA: Garcia's.                                                                                      My worst meal of the year was had more than 5000 miles from Paris, Garcia's in Chinle, Arizona, which is definitely a good thing.  Chinle happens to be well located for visiting such famous sites as Monument Valley and the Canyon de Chelly.  The Garcia's decision is clear-cut, there are no competitors, because this was probably the worst meal I have ever had anywhere - save that Montezuma revenge special of fried chicken that I had in a greasy spoon in old Jerusalem, but please, let's not go there.  If you search Trip Advisor for Chinle restaurants, the first comment that pops up for Garcia's is 'As good as anywhere in town,' which doesn't sound too bad until you realize the alternatives are Burger King, Thunderbird Lodge restaurant, and that place next to the Best Western that looks like it dropped out of horror film.  Garcia's is the Chinle Holiday Inn's restaurant, and it's not like Co. and I were expecting much.  One has to eat, period, and the options in the local convenience store didn't offer much as an alternative.  One thing Garcia's has going for it is an 'all you can shove into your big fat face (an apt description of the typical Garcia diner, however politically incorrect that may sound) salad bar.  I'm just glad I got to it before I saw another patron coughing and wiping his nose, and then selecting items from the bar.  Our waitress certainly was pleasant enough, but visually, she was a disaster, slaking my appetite even before I had a look at that salad bar. I don't remember what I ate or why, but Co. made a big mistake with the most expensive item on the menu, a sirloin steak.  When I asked about alcohol, I was told, sure - just get back in your car and motor 200 miles south, you'll find some, but you won't find any on an Arizona Indian reservation, which is where Chinle lies.  To my chagrin, I had to settle for a Kaliber non-alcoholic beer, my first and last, trust me.  At any rate, I am sure there are worse restaurants in the world, I just hope I never have to find that out for myself.

Worst Restaurant of 2012, Paris: Abri.             No, in my view, you do not have to actually eat at a restaurant for it to be named to a 'worst of' list, especially when one does such a crack job of alienating customers before they ever get to your door.  And getting through the door at Abri appears to be a pleasure that only a select few have ever experienced.  Paris was abuzz about Katsuaki Okiyama's Abri in 2012, a creative sandwich shop by day and supposedly wonderful tasting menu restaurant by night.  So how did they get a reservation?  Because each time I call Monsieur O, I get the very same response: 'complet.'  Being a paranoid ex-pat, I quickly began to think that Mr. O discriminates against would-be diners with heavy English accents, but once I called and he said 'complet' before I got any further than 'bonjour.'  When I asked in November when it would be possible to snag a dinner reservation for two, Monsieur O became, for him I guess, veritably prolific, spitting out the response 'complet a la fin de Decembre.'  In short, I don't care if Abri is the bee's knees or not, Monsieur O. can shove it where the sun don't shine.  With all the hassles I've had reserving at Septime, at least they gave me some advice as to when to call, which nights were better than others, etc.  Monsieur Okiyama apparently doesn't have the courtesy to do even that.  So my only conclusion is that he is restaurateur asshole of the year.  Ironically, the 2013 Le Fooding guide awards Abri a 'palmare' for 'Fooding D'Amour.'

 Biggest Disappointment of 2012, Paris: Roseval.

                                                            Speaking of that 2013 Le Fooding guide which, as always, is a great inexpensive guide to 400 French restaurants, the Palmare for 'Meilleure Table' went to Simone Tondo & Michael Greenwold's Roseval, where the ambiance 'screams modern elegance, and the food is simply ambrosial.'  Well, based on my one dinner there this past Fall, there was nothing overtly elegant about the restaurant's interior, especially the pompous and impolite servers, and the food was good, but far from ambrosial.  I guess Roseval has been anointed this season's hot new thing, but move along reader, nothing that interesting here.  Far less disappointing was L'Agrume, another personal favorite that just didn't wow me this year the way it has in the past.  A different menu every day, amazingly, but the price has gone up and they still lack those little extras that could take the place to another level.

 Best Comeback Restaurant of 2012, Paris suburbs: Les Magnolias.

        I've done my share of hyping Les Magnolias, but somewhere along the line, my return visits to said venue were increasingly spaced, a bad sign.  But  Co. and I returned during the summer and had a magnificent meal.  I would go so far as to say that the food was ambrosial and the setting in Le Perreux-sur-Marne elegant.

 

LES MAGNOLIAS: 48, ave. de Bry, 94 Le Perreux sur Marne, tel: 01.48.72.47.43

 

My Favorite Homemade Drinks of 2012.  Hendrick's gin on the rocks with a slice of cucumber.  And to soothe my aching stomach from consuming too much spice, there is nothing better than a White Russian composed of 2/5s Smirnoff Black vodka, 2/5s Kaluha, and topped off with milk, some ice, and well-shaken with a coffee foamer.

Best Place(s) to Buy Spices in Paris. 

 I don't deny that the multi-colored spice display at Galeries Lafayette Gourmand is a sight to behold and tempting as hell, but my recommendation is to look, but do not buy.  Why?  Simple - it's far cheaper to go to the Indian district's Cash and Carry shops, where one can find a diverse range of spices at miniscule prices.  Case in point.  I purchased 50 grams worth of paprika at Gourmand for a price around 7€.  At one of my habitual C&C's, I found a 400 gm. package of paprika for 1.99€.  You can do the math, and I detected no discernible difference in taste.  At same C&C, I picked up a 400gm package of hot madras curry powder for 2.99€ and a 1kg package of garam masala for 4.89€.  At those volumes, you won't have to make multiple trips to the store to resupply.  The two or three C&Cs I visit regularly are located down the strip from the New Pondichery restaurant (where I usually buy a few pieces of chicken tandori to go) on rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis, right near the Gare du Nord train station.

Best Films that Didn't Make it to Paris in 2012:     The Master, Django Unchained, Lincoln, Zero Dark Thirty.  Best Film that Did:  Turin's Horse. 

Worst Films Appearing on Most French Best Films of 2012 Lists: Holy Motors, Cosmopolis (what is so fascinating about weirdos riding around town in a limosine?), Looper, Magic Mike, Moonrise Kingdom (a kid's movie).  In my view, these overrated films were interminable to sit through.

Disclaimer: Sorry about the line spacing, it is driving me crazy and nothing I attempt can get it to change.  Time for another White Russian.

 See you in 2013.   

Comments, feedback, gripes, glowing praises? - just click '(Aucun) Commentaire.' Spammers beware.

                  

 

Vilia - Viva Italia

Who says timing isn't everything?  Had I seen the new Woody Allen 'Italian' movie, To Rome With Love Thursday night instead of Saturday night, I would have cancelled my Friday dinner reservation at Vilia, another new neo-Italian restaurant in Paris.  No disrespect to the Woodman, who has made some of the great films of all time (Manhattan, Annie Hall), but To Rome is not only just plain horrible, it is tortuous.  Filled with cliches, Italian stereotypes, lame jokes that die with a loud thud, bad acting, terrible casting (Ellen Page as 'sexy, weird love interest'?, Penelope Cruz as an Italian hooker?  Woody Allen as a retired avant-garde opera director? ouch) my stomach was so upset after watching that sorry excuse for entertainment - are Woody and Judy Davis the most tiresome couple in the history of cinema?) that an Italian dinner would have been the last thing on my agenda.  But as I've said, timing is everything, and so Co. and I were able to benefit from a very satisfying evening at Vilia on aforesaid Friday evening.

Easy to reserve (that's becoming a much underused term in the capital these days, unfortunately - as in the ever elusive Septime and the equally slippery new kid on the block, Abri) and even easier to find - rue de Cotte, we strolled into Vilia around 8 pm and, as the first patrons, had our choice of a mere handful of tables.  Seating capacity at Vilia is, by my own bleary-eyed count, 22.  We grabbed one of the few lone two-seaters - lest getting crammed along one of the 6 or 4 seat tables, against the back wall, but nonetheless in the center of the action - bar against the right wall, tiny kitchen outside of my view down a small corridor in the back.  Recipe for success - take an old shop on a hip, buzzing street in Paris, build it into a restaurant, man the kitchen with a young, charismatic, confident chef, and they will come.  And restaurant bloggers will write their glowing reviews (e.g., Heidi Ellison, me).  An old furrier shop, Vilia is centrally located on a street where I wouldn't mind having a tiny apartment.  This is the third - you can look it up - restaurant within a few square meters of the same street that I have now reviewed at this site.  The superfantastic La Gazzetta is directly across the street, and the disappointing Miel & Paprika is just next door.  And if you aren't satisfied with those options, keep walking, there are plenty more venues in the neighborhood.

Co. & I, as is our habitude, opted for the 3-course menu (36€ per person) in lieu of the cheaper 2-course option (26€).  Not much in the way of choices - 3 entrees, 3 plats, and 3 desserts (or cheese).  But let me tell you about the wine first before we get to the actual grub.  Normally, I don't talk much about the wines at this site because I, gasp, am not an expert.  I adhere to the Don Winslow school of oenology, neatly summarized in his book, Savages, as follows:

The wine world is basically divided into red and white.  (We ain't gonna go far with this -- wine types are almost as hateful as tweekers.)  Every great wine-tasting session should end with arsenic.

And we might add John Niven's observation:

If you have to stop drinking, you're a fucking loser.

Okay, so much for esoteric wine philosophy.  The wine list at Vilia is short and sweet, or moitie-moitie, half French and half Italian.  When in Rome, as they say, so I asked our waitress's advice for a good Italian red and ended up with the very satisfying Cannonau Costera (28€).  Not long after sitting down at our table, the ruggedly handsome, foulard wearing, crazy chef/owner Marco Silvetti whipped past our table to snag a couple bags of DeCecco rigatoni off the mantlepiece, commenting that it is a key ingredient to success - later, we were able to verify that first-hand.  But shortly after our Costera arrived, Marco came by again and we had a brief chat about mutual origins and Italian wines, and here is what he said about the Sardinian-based Costera:

Sardinia, where the ground is hard and the people are silent.

Cryptic enough to enhance the flavor of the wine, which was very much like a French bordeaux, but with something special.  Full-bodied and somewhat sweeter than the French wines I am used to drinking, this bottle held up well throughout the meal, though I fear it might become a bit overwhelming on multiple occasions.  As for the food to wash down, Co. fared better than I did with the entree, thoroughly satisfied with her souffle of oursins (sea urchin), which I sadly did not photograph - but it probably would have been blurry anyway (see below), me less so - having bypassed the mackerel dish for a soup of langoustine, calamar, and clams.  Not to say it wasn't good, but I had hoped for something more special.  This soup struck me as a pretty typical fish soup, no bells or whistles.  Or as Annie Hall might have intoned, 'lah di dah.'

But just a second there.  Did I mention, no I didn't, that shortly into our first dishes, Marco wheeled out into the dining room a barrel-sized block of hollowed out cheese, poured a couple pots of that DeCecco rigatoni inside, and mixed in some broken-up parmesan cheese along with, not sure here, olive oil (?).  When Co. inquired just what exactly he was up to, he responded by bringing a small bowl of the pasta melange to our table, a somewhat belated, but generously welcomed, mise-en-bouche.

Well, let me tell you, this elegantly simple preparation was, in the jargon of today's youth, awesome, dude.  The pasta was al dente - tender but firm - and the cheese al perfecto.  I would have happily scrapped the 3-course menu and devoured a couple bowls of this dish.  But, alas, that was not to be the case.  Nonetheless, I felt pretty good about having chosen the pasta plat - raviolis mozzarella et bufala - three raviolis rectangles bearing small chunks of shrimp.  Co. went with the poulpe dish with charlottes and creme.

 

Once again, the pasta won out, though both dishes, as we swapped to verify, were rated 'tasty' on the tasty scale, perhaps with Co. a tad underwhelmed by her calamar.  The dessert choices didn't send shivers up my spine, and given Co.'s predilection for the tartelette with yougurt and strawberries, I took the waitress's advice and went with the creme brulee romarin et citronnelle, after she downgraded to no. 3 the third possibility, a panna cotta.  Not much of a creme brullee enthusiast, I did appreciate the sweet concoction that appeared before me.  Co. went euphroric over her hands-on, non-imposing to the naked eye tartellette, now bearing chocolate, as a late-night replacement for the yogurt - how does one run out of yogurt?

So, in sum, a satisfying, laid-back night.  Italian, yet not totally, which I am sure will keep Vilia as an interesting option, especially when you can't get reservations at La Gazzetta or Caffe dei Chioppi.

Arrivederci, baby.

VILIA

26, rue de Cotte

75012 Paris

tel. 09 80 44 20 15

no website

Tour de Tapas

Fearlessly, I've been busy, even as the mid-August tumbleweeds roll past the better establishments of a (finally) sun-drenched French capital.  Oh wait a minute, it's now cloudy.  Whatever.  As suggested by this post's pithy title, my recent incursions into the Parisian restaurant scene - more accurately carried out just prior to the mass restaurant closings of the French vacation period - center on the tapas circuit, more or less.  Once again this is going to be a quick summary-type post, rather than an indepth review of any particular establishment.  Overall, I have four dinners to discuss, and I am happy to report that each left me with a smile and a thumbs up.



AU PASSAGE
I know, I know, been there done that.  My full review from last February here.  This time, an extended meal/conversation with the Moose.  Back in town and big need to catch up, so the tapas motif served our needs well.  A last minute reservation got us two stools at the bar, which was fine with us.  Halfway through, we were kindly offered a table by one of the waitstaff, but we were fine where we were.  Our selections were each satisfying, and in fact, there's nothing really significantly different to report from my first visit's impressions.  Maybe I enjoyed the food more this time, or maybe it was just that I selected better.  Moose concurs.  The carte (click on image to view) on offer for our particular late July visit and some photos follow.

 

I started off with a refreshing and satisfying brandade de lieu jaune and Moose commenced with a refreshing and satisfying bowl of cresson soup.

 

 Next up, feeling very Irish despite his Canadian/British/Filipino pedigree, Moose stuck with the green (cucumber poutargue), whereas I've never seen a rouget dish that I couldn't say 'yes' to.

 

Finishing up, we got meaty, me with the magret and moose with the (no image) agneau.  I'd have to say my magret outshined the similar dish I had during the February visit - the grilled vegetables a very nice counterpoint to the lightly cooked magret.

Why we didn't order dessert I'm not sure, but it could be we had drunk ourselves under the bar by that point.  Too bad I didn't save the bill and I could have told you what wine we washed this all down with, but it was a tasty blackboard special - and of course, red.  Still the place to go if you are half my age - plenty of bright youthful faces at the tables - with friends, for an extended evening of wining and dining.  On this summer evening, Au Passage was a perfect choice.  We lingered outside for a while after the meal, chatting up some locals, including a disgruntled 20-something who was bemoaning her inability to snag a table that evening at Chateaubriand, and a couple enterprising young filmmakers.

AU PASSAGE
1 bis Passage Saint Sebastien
75011 Paris
tel: 01 43 55 07 52

AGUA LIMON

Much chagrined at having been left to her own devices in the kitchen while I was off gallivanting with the Moose, Co. and I followed up with our first excursion to a decidedly Spainish-oriented tapas joint, Agua Limon, situated in the 12th - and how I am starting to love this area between the Aligre market and Bastille.  Start at metro Faidherbe-Chaligny as the hub and you can walk from there to any number of terrific little restaurants.  Agua Limon itself is just a short walk from the Ledru Rollin metro, another good port of call.  

I haven't had much luck with Spanish tapas in the capital, but Agua Limon is a spot I definitely will be returning to; nothing spectacular, but pleasant, pleasing, and pretty authentic - the 3 Ps of something or another.  The open facade gave us a feeling of dining outside while inside the small front room; behind the bar runs another set of tables in a train car space.  A pleasant and helpful server guided us efficiently, but leisurely, through our tapas choices, some of which are pictured below.

To start, friture eperlans (9.30€). and poivrons grilles (5€).

Followed by friture calmars (9.30€) ...

Salicon pulpo (a highlight) (12€) ...

and poulet paprka (a bit too watery for my taste, but still pretty good, and a frequent choice among other diners) (7€).

Based on a small sample size, I'd say go with the seafood options, but you know what you like.  As I've never come across a Rioja I couldn't say yes to, we went with the Rioja Torres (25€) and were not disappointed; with coffee, the meal totaled out at 73.60€, so you can't beat the price for decent sized servings.

Agua Limon is small and informal, another great little summer venue in Paris, especially if your tastes lead you down the tapas route and you're nostalgic for those little dining sessions you remember so fondly from your last visit to Barcelona.

AGUA LIMON

12, rue Theophile-Roussel

tel. 01 43 44 92 24

website: http://www.restaurant-agualimon.com

 CAFFE DEI CIOPPI

Another new try, and admittedly, a much more challenging venue for snagging a table.  Yours truly failed in that regard on several occasions before getting a wobbly, tiny square of a table on the so-called terrace in the alley off Rue du Faubourg St. Antoine one Friday evening shortly before summer shutdown.  Close your eyes and you are off a little piazza in Milano, but when the food arrives, open your eyes and you are off a little piazza in Milano.  From Spain to Italy, a couple metro stops away.  CDC is an apparent favorite on the local celeb front, at least judging by LeFooding's postings, so of course I had to check this out because I like to be where the in-crowd crowds.

As soon as you hit CDC it hits you back as to why it's difficult to reserve - the food is very good - everything prepared in house, from the mozarella to the pastas and sauces - and it is reasonably priced.  It is inaccurate to call CDC a tapas restaurant, but I don't know why, it had the atmosphere of one.  Here's the menu du jour upon our arrival:

And our choices, beginning with the soup (not pictured) and truly, truly mozarella  ...

moving on to the linguine and filet de maigre, equally outstanding and thus we swapped halfway ...

... and finishing up with fondant chocolat and sbrisolona, the latter of which was particularly outstanding (and again, we couldn't resist swapping mid-course).

 

 

Despite their blur, I hope the photos speak for themselves.  Beverage-wise, a decent Rosso di Montefalco (20€), bringing the total (sans cafe) to 95.50€.  

I'm not a repository of recommendations for Italian dining in Paris, but you can't go wrong on that front at Caffe Dei Cioppi.  I'm looking forward to a return visit during the winter, but I'm afraid that once you take away those ten or so tables in the alley, one's chances of capturing a reservation inside this spatially-challenged venue is going to be a mighty tough 'get.'

CAFFE DEI CIOPPI

159, rue du Faubourg St Antoine

tel: 01 43 46 10 14

no website

LES MAGNOLIAS

As you no doubt know if you've been to this site before, Les Magnolias is a perennial venue for Mortstiff & Co., so I won't belabor the point (see my previous 2008 reviews here and here).  After a several month hiatus, we returned to Jean Chauvel's Michelin-starred establishment in the Paris banlieue of Le Perreux, after getting the distinct impression that M. Chauvel's magic was waning after his multiple rethinks of standard dishes.  Well, with our return during July, I have to say, resoundingly, that Les Magnolias is back.  New sauces, new ingredients, new structures, new conceptions, this was one fantastic meal, from start to finish.  Enough said.

 The carte (click to enlarge):

And some of our choices:

 

 

 

LES MAGNOLIAS 

48, avenue de Bry  

94 Le Perreux-sur-Marne

tel : 01 48 72 47 43

website: http://www.lesmagnolias.com

So there you have it - another Parisian summer almost gotten through.  August may be bleak and hopeless for restaurants in the capital, but we do what we can to survive.  That's going to do it here until the much-awaited rentree in September.  By then, I hope for a diversion along the lines of a recap of some highlights from our trip to the US southwest.  From tapas to tacos, the beat goes on.