Rentrée 2010 - Greatest Hits

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.

Le Temps au Temps. . . – Time Is On My Side

When you’re on a roll, you’re on a roll. Fresh off the very satisfying dinner at Casa Olympe, a visit to the even more spatially-challenged 24-seater, Le Temps Au Temp, resulted in an equally favorable dining experience.

After a bit of typical Mortstiff chicanery, leading Co. into thinking we were returning to one of our frequent haunts, Le Bistrot Paul Bert, I grabbed her hand and led her across the street explaining we should check out Le Temps, a “place where it’s virtually impossible to get a reservation.” Hey, have to keep things lively and fresh. It didn’t take Co. more than two seconds to see through the ruse, and it didn’t take me more than a week in advance to get the reservation. Thinking that the recession might finally be denting the Paris restaurant scene, that idea quickly evaporated as the tables started to fill up at this tiny little spot (a dozen tightly-packed tables) in one of my favorite non-touristical areas for dining in Paris. Rue Paul Bert has its aforementioned namesake and next-door seafood counterpart, L’Écallier du Bistrot; around the corner is one of the better Moroccan restaurants in Paris, Mansouria. In short, if you’re up for a good meal, you can’t go wrong by getting out at Faidherbe-Chaligny metro stop. Just make sure you’ve reserved someplace first.

More casual and welcoming than Casa Olympe, Le Temps is without pretension. Thus, despite the tight squeeze, the experience tends to be pretty laid back. Forget about Fodor’s promise that single diners can sit at one of the stools in front of the bar. That’s a no go - no stools during our visit, but sure enough, behind the bar, mounted on the wall was a large facsimile of a clock – hence the name (‘Time to Time’). A single diner seemed to be enjoying herself at one of the two outdoor tables set up in front of the restaurant.

Taking the place of a fixed menu was a chalkboard listing of the day’s 30€ fixed price offerings. I’ve already lamented my distaste for the largely illegible chalkboards hanging from Paris est to Paris ouest. To its credit, Le Temps had at least one blackboard in full view on every wall, which didn’t necessarily make the task any easier for your’s truly. It’s not my fault my eyes aren’t getting any younger, and poor Co. isn’t faring much better. Together, we mounted a full-blown effort and made our choices. I opted for the linguine de saumon marinee with avocat moussiline and mint leaf. Co. went with the queu de langoustine au fenouil. Both dishes were creative and tasty. Now for the embarrassing part of this review. After the entrees, I settled into an eating groove and stopped taking notes, thinking I could not possibly forget the specific details of all that ensued. Well, beyond the memory of a fish plate with celery mousse for me, and an immaculately prepared plate of lightly cooked chunks of duck for Co., I am at a loss. Instead, have a look at some representative photos that I borrowed from a foodie froggie’s blog. I do remember our wine, a lusty domaine des Vercheres Bourgogne 2006 (27€), which did the proverbial job and then some. Although forgotten in detail, the overall experience was of an above-average, understated, but thoughtfully prepared dinner. We’ll definitely revisit, a compliment if I’ve ever heard one.


LE TEMPS AU TEMPS
13, rue Paul Bert
75011 Paris
tel.: 01 43 79 63 40
Video link

Le Bistrot Paul Bert - Bert's Hat Trick

It’s called Le Bistrot Paul Bert (Paul Bert for short), it’s located on rue Paul Bert in the 11^th arrondissement, and its owner is Bertrand (Bert for short) Auboyneau. Coincidence? I think not. Regular readers of this blog (all two of you?) may recall that Paul Bert appeared on Mortstiff’s ‘best of’ list for 2007. The most recent visit – my third - on March 7^th didn’t reach the heights of previous visits, but was good enough to keep this one on the list of ‘go to’ Paris bistrots.

There are three rooms to Paul Bert – to the left of the entrance, one enters the smallest room, a converted butcher shop, and it looks it. The main room has a bar and several tables and is the most lively and boisterous of the three. My preference is the room on the right – nice tablecloths, mustard walls, a bit more relaxed in a bougeouise arty we’re in Paris sort of a way. This is a restaurant that has scrapped the idea of having a menu you can actually hold and fondle – instead, yes, my personal bane, there are freshly scrawled chalk boards positioned in every nook and cranny with the day's offerings. My condolences to the poor workers who have to prepare the chalk boards daily (and modify them throughout the evening, accordingly). What a monumental (and horrifying) task that must be.

Getting to basics – Mortstiff & Co. each opted for the 34 euro menu accompanied by a bottle of Ardeche red, a recommended blackboard wine special for 20 euros. (By the way, there is an actual carte de vins.) Among our selections were a plate of scallops in their shells, a fish tartare, pig shoulder, and squid risotto. I’d say the tartare and risotto were the standouts. The preparation of the risotto was particularly interesting, including a little sliver of sweet tomato that really hit the spot. The highlight of the meal, without question, was the dessert. I’ve learned from experience that Paul Bert’s macaroons are probably among the best in Paris. Rather than duplicate our order, Co. & I struck a deal to go 50/50 on the desserts, an even split. And I’m glad we did, because the combination of dessert 1 (Paul Bert’s tiramisu) with dessert 2 (Paul Bert’s strawberry macaroon, about the size of a Big Mac) made for a whole fundmentally greater than the sum of the parts. You know it’s good when the only word that comes to mind is ‘More!’

If I recall correctly, I discovered Paul Bert via a review I read by Patricia Wells, the noted restaurant critic. I feel about PW the way I feel about Robert Christgau for music and Andrew Sarris for film. We may not share the same tastes and I often disagree with their opinions, but I hold them in high esteem in their respective fields.

Here’s what PW has to say about Paul Bert on her web site:

I could dine at this boisterous, crowded old-time bistro once a week, feasting on steak and fries, ultra-fresh fish and shellfish, always imaginatively prepared and served with a flourish. One of the city’s surest bistro bets, with a great wine list to boot.

Once a week would definitely overdo it for me – once every couple of months should do the job.

LE BISTROT PAUL BERT

18, rue Paul Bert, Paris 11.
Telephone: 01 43 72 24 01.

Overall note (out of 10): 6.5

Food: 7

Ambiance: 6.5-7 (Its got that Paris bistrot ambiance down pat.)

Price: middle bracket reasonable (93€, including wine)

Service: 7 (It was the first night for our waitress, and the staff must have spent a grand total of 5 minutes to train her. After a mighty struggle popping the cork of our wine bottle, I thought she was about to storm out in tears. But she put forth a gallant effort and seemed to ease into the job as the evening wore on. The rest of the staff is amiable, energetic and unobtrusively attentive).

Note: Bert! Do something about the bread. Tossing slices of a skinny baguette in a basket should be beneath you.