Le Villaret - Aging Well

Last Thursday evening, on the heels of a spontaneous and ill-chosen dinner at Chez Clement on the Champs Elysee (enough said), Co.and I directed some family to a monumental step up to one of my old Paris favorites, Le Villaret, a serious, comfortable, always-filled bistrot that veritably defines the term 'Paris bistrot.'  Hell, Le Villaret has been high on my list since not long after my arrival in France about 20 years ago, and it just keeps getting better with age. . .although I'm not sure I'd be willing to make that bold statement about yours truly. 

Not from the night we were there, but Villaret is always filled.

True, there was a few-years lull when Co. and I turned our attention elsewhere, a bit put off by Villaret's rather pricey ala carte menu.  Problem now solved - Villaret offers one of the best menu degustation deals in town, with its 55€ six-course dinner, accompanied by a mise-en-bouche (a  tasty spinach cream) and a plate of patisseries along with the cafe (4€).  And with quantity comes distinct quality, each dish delicately prepared with fresh ingredients and panache.  A couple years ago, Villaret's owners spiced up the interior, which now is still cozy but more refined, with less of the Swiss chalet look, and more glimpses of the superb wine selection.  Along with pricier bottles, Villaret now offers some very affordable options, including an excellent Cabardes Cazaban (30€).  Some highlights from the meal follow below.  What is missing is the initial entree, a seasonal asperge consomme, and a penultimate dessert consisting of some sort of coconut concoction and passion fruit.

Sardines - not my favorite - but this dish was excellent.

Sandre pierre and leeks

Pigeon and large peas - again, a dish that typically isn't one of my top choices, but this one was more than fine.

White chocolate and other goodies inside, accompanied by pina colada ice.

The upshot - an excellent meal, each dish adding to the overall Gestalt in a way that really made sense.  When you can say that about a meal that includes a couple of dishes that you may typically shy away from, you get what Villaret is all about.  And when their menu includes items you actually like, well then it doesn't get much better than that.

LE VILLARET
13 rue Ternaux
75011 Paris
tel: 01 43 57 75 56

reserve at least a week in advance.

Interesting wall adornment in the Oberkampf area nearby

Le Villaret - Mort's Pick

Yes, yes, I know, ‘Mort’s Pick’ is a pretty lame blog instalment heading, but as you probably know if you’ve been a regular follower of this blog, Le Villaret has long been one of my preferred bistrots in the French capital. And if you can think up a snappily witty twist on ‘Le Villaret,’ I will eat my beret. Le Villaret is all about the food, so who needs gimmicky teasers anyway?

At any rate, my last visit to this venue, just a short walk from the Parmentier metro stop on the unimposing and discreet rue Ternaux, was a little unsettling, as all the familiar faces – owner and staff – were gone. As I eventually was informed that the restaurant had changed owners, I was relieved to see the familiar chef Olivier poking his head from the kitchen as he always seems wont to do. Nonetheless, Co. and I arrived on Friday night with some degree of trepidation, not knowing what, if any, changes the V. had undergone. And, I am happy to report, the changes are few and positive. Standing out among the positives is an extremely affordable 32€ menu, featuring three or four choices for a 3-course meal. I always expected to pay a bit more than usual at Le V., primarily because a la carte was essentially the only choice. Now, in addition to the standard menu, there also is an affordable menu de degustation for 50€.

I’ve always found the V. to be comfortable and welcoming. The relatively small-sized interior is handsomely short of who gives a ratatouille, with some timber strips along the walls suggestive of an earlier life as ski lodge. If you arrive shortly after 8 p.m., as we generally do, you can expect the near empty dining room to be filled and convivial by the time you’ve consumed your mis-en-bouche, entrée, and one-third of your bottle of wine. But enough about atmosphere, as mentioned, the V. is all about food. I was immediately attracted to the 32€ menu, and had already decided on the following lineup by the time Co. had foraged her reading glasses out of her purse:
Entrée: Salade tiede de bulots et pomme de terre et vinegrette. Plat: Filets de rouget poeles et pancetta, fenouil a la grecque et olives de sicile. Dessert: Le baba ua rhum, crème vanillas, salade de mangue a la citronelle.

I was smugly satisfied at the alacrity of my decision making, as the ultimately accommodating waitress began to answer Co’s questions about whether it would be possible to order an entrée from the menu a la carte, from which it was mysteriously absent. And by the time I had drifted into contemplation about whatever lofty thoughts had drifted into my Bunnahabhain single malt-crossed mind, I was quickly lured into a discussion about the possibility of swapping the joues de porc offering on the 50€ menu de degustation (MEG), which I do not eat, for a fish alternative. (As is always the case, with the MEG, it is all or nothing – if one person orders it, everyone at the table must abide.) One glance in Co’s direction, and I realized that asking her to forego the MEG, with its promised langoustines and coquille St. Jacques would have serious repercussions during the remainder of the weekend, so the Mort abides, the Mort abides.

As I try to interpret my generally incoherent notes, please follow to the best of your ability my description of the 6-course meal (including two dessert courses), misspellings included. The festivities began with a mis-en-bouche consisting of a crème de courgette, a hint of pleasures to come. First up from the menu was another soup, this time a crème de rouget with small morsels of corizzo and croutons. This was a fish soup off the beaten path, yet without doubt it worked. Moving on to solids, the next entrée consisted of queues de langoustine with salade de mache, round baked potato chips (for want of a better term), and xeres vinagrette. This was excellent – the three meaty strips of langoustine (including two tails) were sweet and delectable, their flavor enhanced, not diluted by the xeres. This dish was followed by another winner consisting of the coquilles St. Jacques simmering in a sea of lentils au foie gras. I suppose these dishes were supposed to serve as entrees, but were uncommonly sized for a degustation menu, which more typical of Paris restaurants substitutes breadth for quantity. As Co. welcomed the arrival of her joues de porc with persil, I rejoiced at the arrival of my replacement fish, the rouget dish I had contemplated from the start. Neither of us found any reason to complain at this fortuitous turn of events. The two desserts represented odd and unanticipated choices. First up was a dish consisting of two ice creams (chocolate and guanaco) and a sliver of qumquat. Long before the finale, some sort of pear concoction with mint grand duque, Co. had grown pale before the quantity of food we were consuming. I was holding up fine, but then I hadn’t eaten a crepe stuffed with confecture before leaving home as had my lovely, but somewhat undisciplined dinner companion. Once again, my philosophy is as it has always been, single malt whiskey, oui, crepe, non, especially when a degustation menu awaits.

By the time I was busy draining the last two drops out of the excellent Corbieres La Pompadour 2007 Castelmaur (25€) and contemplating lofty thoughts involving the aforementioned langoustines, I noticed the elegant chap sitting at the next table offer from his finger (!) a taste of a white sauce that had accompanied his dessert to Co. The finger to finger swap left Co. in a bit of a flustered dilemma, but ever polite, she obliged, and upon tasting the truffle sauce agreed that it was more than inappropriate for a dessert. The sauce was quickly replaced by a more dessert-friendly white sauce which – all things fair in finger to finger combat – our neighbor obliged me to try, only this time it, thankfully, arrived by spoon. Le Villaret – it’s that kind of place. Friendly, subtle, and inconspicuous, but always surprising.

LE VILLARET
13, rue Ternaux
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 57 75 56
no web site (too bad!)
Closed: Saturday lunch and Sunday

Note: Valentine's Day dinner at La Dinee, albeit two days before the actual event, was another great choice, as expected. While the meal didn't reach the heights of our visit last summer, it did not disappoint. What did disappoint were the numerous empty tables in the restaurant. A cold, unfriendly late Winter Friday night, two days before Valentine's Day may, in part, explain the lack of diners, but La Dinee definitely merits our support.

Paris Restaurant Musings at the End of a Decade

I promised to continue my tour of the rue Oberkampf restaurant scene and, as far as I’m concerned, a promise is a promise. A couple years ago, Le Café Charbon, a Paris institution and one of the oldest cafes in the capital, was beginning to do some interesting things with the food, although this has always been more of a drinking establishment than restaurant, hovering somewhere in-between neighborhood and trendy. I remember some decent lunches and a fairly understated but eclectic dinner menu, as I fuelled up before concerts in the groovy back room (the chandeliered Le Nouveau Casino). My last visit, sometime last Fall, suggests that they’ve given up on the food. Casual reigned, with burgers, salads, and the like ruling the day. Too bad, but I still consider it my first option in the area if I want to while away some hours chatting with a friend over drinks. Not the greatest selection of single malts, but what can I say, sometimes you have to slum it. And despite the comments online about Le Charbon being snobbish or apathetic or cold, well, if you can’t handle what often passes as Parisian warmth, there’s always Cleveland.

At any rate, a couple weeks ago, there I was in Le Charbon musing over the state of the world, humanity, and other sundry topics, with my Jamaican friend, Rastaman. I was in a Jack Daniels kind of mood and R-man was in a hot chocolate sort of mood – you can’t account for tastes – and so on we mused, both of us gradually warming up in our own idiosyncratic ways. Before the clock hit 8:30 p.m., we both realized that we had warmed up enough to start thinking about other needs, such as food, and with the words ‘casual’ and ‘cheap’ and ‘no reservation on a Friday night’ entering into our musings, we headed out the door and straight ahead, across the street to another Oberkampf institution, L’Occitanie. Only when I took a gander at the façade and awning did I have the odd impression of the something was happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones variety. There was the old reliable next-door neighbor, Chez Justine (oddly, all closed up for the evening!), and viola!, the name L’Occitanie up there in the upper right corner of the front wall. Not exactly the bright neon variety, I nonetheless felt assured that I hadn’t taken a wrong turn in Denmark, or something like that. As I later learned, this was L’Occitanie no more, having been replaced by a third Au Pied de Fouet location in the city during the Spring of 2008. Am I out of the loop, or am I out of the loop? Originally installed in in the 7th (45, rue de Babylone) some 150 years ago, a second Au Pied was inaugurated in the Latin Quarter (3, rue Saint Benoit) in 2007. And then there was a third, all specializing in southwest cuisine.

We squeezed through the body-challenged entrance to find a boisterous, packed room of Parisians doing what packed rooms of Parisians often do, happily eating, drinking, and conversing. Sans reservation, Rasta and I stood in the front for a short five minutes at which time a tiny square of a table suddenly materialized amidst the others and we squeezed in. I’m sure I’ve already commented about the close seating in many Parisian restaurants. Well, Au Pied gives new meaning to the word ‘close.’ Think intimate, think people at the next table sitting on your lap. But no one seemed to mind, so why should we? This is the sort of place that positively reeks of old Paris. Think simplicity, authenticity, cheap. My shrimp appetizer, for example, consisted of a half dozen whole, peeled shrimp lying naked side by side on my plate next to a glop of mayo. Not exactly creative, but with the Chinon and bread, guess what? This did the job. I followed this with a confit de canard ‘Maison,’ (10.50€), which arrived with the duck sitting on a bed of mashed potatoes, pieces of duck perfectly cook, falling without effort off the bone. Simple but hearty. Rastaman went with the supreme de volaille and had good things to say about the sauce (as in ‘this sauce is really good’). For dessert, we continued with the tried and true, a tarte Tintin and a daily special rhubarb tarte. All for the ridiculous price of 48€ (wine, one appetizer, two plates, two desserts, one café). No wonder they are packing them in like sardines.

It wasn’t much more than a week or two before the aforementioned foray along Oberkampf that I was back with the Moose for an impromptu dinner at L’Estaminet, about a block further along rue Oberkampf. This is another establishment that can best be described as friendly, young, and packed. So packed that, after a ten minute wait at the bar, we were reluctantly guided downstairs to a room that the waitstaff had hoped to close off for the rest of the evening. This was the first time since the smoking ban that I had been in the cavelike rooms in the restaurant and the first time I could actually breathe as I ate my meal. At L’Estaminet, there is more of an effort than you find at Au Pied to add a little creativity to the preparation of dishes and my verdict on this occasion was that the results are hit and miss. The hit was my risotto aux cepes et magret fumé entrée (7€), a big surprise, given that this dish has often been a big disappointment elsewhere (Oslo being the most recent I can recall). This was tasty and warming, with copious slices of magret and I would go back for that dish alone. My main dish, however, the nage St. Jacques et rougets, coulis de langoustine vapeurs et legumes (17€), was the reverse – a big disappointment for a highly anticipated dish. The sauce and diced vegetables overwhelmed the scallops and rouget, and by the time I was halfway through, I was bored.

Now just a hop, skip, and jump away from the new decade (the 10s?), out of curiosity I pulled out my old agenda for January 2000 to find out how I started the decade eating-wise. There it was, clear as day, one of my favorite bistrots in the 11th, not far from Oberkampf, but closer to Parmentier, Le Villaret. This is a restaurant that I sorely neglected this year, with only one visit since the new ownership arrived. This is definitely on my list to review for 2010.

Before ringing in the new, my hat (if I had one) is off to the meal of the year, personally speaking, at Ze Kitchen Galerie, during a recent dinner with Co. and our pardners from Texas, J. L. and Tina ‘Brigitte’ Marie. Unfortunately, without notes and without an updated menu at Ze’s website, I can’t provide a description of my entrée that would do it justice, but it was a slightly cooked piece of dorade with thinly-sliced pieces of ginger and mango. Intriguing, creative, delicious. For the plate, I opted for the canard de ‘challans’ and foie gras grilles, jus betterave, and ginger. Wow. One last time, year of the beet. And, of course, the white chocolate, wasabi, pistachio sauce, and green tea epic dessert. I almost forgot what a killer dessert that is. Almost.

A dinner with Co. at the Mark Singer restaurant La Cave Gourmande, came a close second. With my notes long since having disappeared (new year’s resolution no. 1: keep notes!), it is literally a meal beyond description. The restaurant with two names, two large rooms, and one petite waitress (Mrs. Mark Singer?), the meal was creative and pretty close to perfection. Details to come, after next visit, I promise. But that dinner at Ze Kitchen was at that level beyond perfection. I can’t wait to go back. Bring on the 10s, I’m ready.

CAFÉ CHARBON
109, rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 43 57 55 13
no website

AU PIED DE FOUET
96, rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 48 06 46 98
Website: http://www.aupieddefouet.com/France/Presentation/11eme

L’ESTAMINET
116 rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 43 57 34 29
no website

MARK SINGER RESTAURANT LA CAVE GOURMANDE
10, rue du Général Brunet
Tel: 01 40 40 03 30
no website

ZE KITCHEN GALERIE
4, rue des Grands Augustins
Tel: 01 44 32 00 32
website: http://www.zekitchengalerie.fr

Entrées For The Rentrée

An auspicious rentrée for Mortstiff & Co. – ‘rentrée’ as in regeneration, blooming, reemergence from the cocoon, the great awakening from the somnabulance of summer, I am so French - this year came not with a whimper or a bang, but more of a ‘splat.’ As is our wont, I accompanied Co. to the rooftop one starry, early September night, and led her in our annual dance to the end of summer, a tango. My spanking new 600€ tango shoes, with their six-inch heels were feeling uncharacteristically snug, which may account for why a couple minutes into our routine, I boleroed when I should have ganchoed, and the next thing I knew Co. had pasodobled right into the Hospital Montfermeil emergency room. So with Co. out of commission, things have been rather slow on the restaurant front, including a requisite cancellation of our much anticipated inaugural visit to La Bigarrade (rescheduled for the end of this month).

Nonetheless, we did manage to squeeze in a couple sure things since my last posting – Le Villaret and Les Magnolias. These are two of our mainstays, and for good reason. There is no way you walk out of these restaurants without a strong desire to return. I’ve already made the point that Le Villaret, which is located not far from the Place de la Republique off of Oberkampf in the 11th, is my favorite Paris bistrot. Small enough to feel intimate, yet roomy enough to offset the all-too-common claustrophobia that makes many small Parisian bistrots seem oppressive, the wood and brick Le Villaret is a perfect spot to settle in from the Autumn chill and enjoy the chef’s latest creations. For our visit, we sampled the salade salsola confit auberge et tarte fin sardines, fricassee chipirons et artichauts, ris de veau, and the canette en deux cuissons. I don’t know how many times I’ve sworn off ordering any sardine dish in a restaurant, but the sardine entrée was excellent. Le Villaret also boasts one of the most impressive cheese trays in Paris – in their case, a four-tiered wooden box. Better than Astier’s – the bistrot a couple blocks away – noteworthy cheese plate. A 22€ tasty 2006 Corbiere efficiently rounded out the meal, and all-told, the bill for two (3 courses + wine + coffee) came to 118€. [Just a question: why not include some menus on the menu?] During this latest visit, I was surprised to learn that the previous owner – as much an institution as the restaurant – had retired, which accounted for the frantic new owner’s hyperactivity and apparent stress. I’d be stressful too if I had to keep rushing into the kitchen to make sure that the two cooks – a husband and wife team who could periodically be heard yelling at each other through the kitchen doors – hadn’t strangled each other.

LE VILLARET - 13 rue Terneaux 75011 Paris
tel: 01 43 57 75 56

As for Les Magnolias, there’s not much to add to my earlier review (see the posting for 11 fev. 2008). Jean Chauvel is a grand artiste – his meals are prepared as works of art. You hesitate before taking knife and fork to them. I really hit the jackpot this time with the raie (ray or skate fish) preparation, described thusly on the menu: ‘ Raie bouclée flottant sur quelques tâches de grenades braise tiède de maïs et panais, noué de poivre du Vietnam.’ It was Co’s turn to opt for the ‘4-21’ dessert, a concoction where the overall gestalt is fundamentally greater than the sum of its parts. The first time I tried this dessert I wondered what I was supposed to do with the little glass of grilled peanuts and the small glass of pastis and rose petals. Ultimately, I understood, and you will, too. Eureka, I’ve got it.

LES MAGNOLIAS – 48, avenue de Bry - 94 Le Perreux-sur-Marne tel : 01 48 72 47 43

Sandwiched in-between Villaret and Magnolias were two pleasantly surprising Asian restaurants, the Restaurant Le Palais de l’Hirondelle and Voyage en Siam. I happened upon Le Palais during the intellectually stimulating, biannual Festival America in Vincennes. All the debates and lectures that had transpired during the afternoon with some of the noted authors of the Americas (N. and S.) had left me with a decent appetite to slake before the evening’s concert with Luke Doucet, Oh! Susanna, and Arlo’s definitely grown up daughter, Sarah Lee Guthrie. On my own, and thus with no great desire to over-complicate things given the 90-minutes I had at my disposal, I figured a local Asian restaurant would do the trick. Le Palais specializes in Chinese, Thai, and grilled cuisine. My selections were quite good, especially the appetizer of onoo fish in banana skin. Don’t worry, I never heard of it either, but it was tasty, prepared in a sauce that seemed to incorporate coconut milk and curry. I followed that up with giant shrimp hunan with a side order of riz gluant, all washed down with a carafe of red wine. The damper on the evening came when I complained to the waitress that the wine had the distinct aroma and taste of cork. Her response, to the best of my translation skills, was along the lines of, ‘look, you jerk, it’s only a carafe, what do you expect, Pomerol?’ Well, that’s pretty true, the wine was only something like 7€, but she may as well have given me a coke laced with gasoline. If it’s bad, I ain’t going to drink it. Case closed. After I insisted I received my replacement carafe. At the end of the meal, as I paid my 35€, we exchanged some polite banter and I left with everything hunky dory between me and the waitress who I hope I never, ever see again. Still, if you’re stuck in Vincennes and are up for some very good inexpensive Asian food, Le Palais de l’Hirondelle is recommended.

LE PALAIS DE L’HIRONDELLE - 4, rue du Midi - 94300 Vincennes tel : 01 43 28 20 06

Voyage au Siam is a Thai restaurant in the 11^th, just off avenue de la Republique on rue Saint-Maur. This was the choice for a post-meeting rendevous with several of my work colleagues. It’s a nice little spot, very comfortable, with welcoming geisha girls, I mean waitresses, collectively taking a small choreographed bow to welcome each patron. Given there were about twelve of us, we were led to the back of the restaurant to a large table logistically isolated from the rest of the evening’s paying customers. That was great, because you know what happens when a dozen co-workers all start pontificating at the same time in a restaurant – it can get noisy. I can’t speak for any of my colleagues, but they all looked pretty satisfied with their selections, and they spanned the gamut. As for myself, I opted for the Mii-krob entrée : vermicelles de riz croustillants mélanges avec du tofu, de la ciboulette et des feuilles de coriander à la sauce acidulée-sucrée-salée – and, I can add, on a bed of salad. This was an original dish – maybe not in Thailand, but I had never had it before in Paris – light but satisfying. The main plate was a highlight – Pla Pao, an entire sea bass (bar) with Thai spices, wrapped in a grilled banana leaf and served with a coriander and lime sauce. This was a pretty succulent and involving dish and by its end I realized I had hardly touched my bamboo basket of riz gluant. I passed on dessert, but we worked our way through several bottles of a reasonably priced burgundy (18€). Hard to believe, but the two-course menu + coffee was priced at 17€, which just didn’t seem fair to somebody other than me.

VOYAGE AU SIAM - 60, rue Saint-Maur - 75011 Paris tel : 01 47 00 46 87

In sum, four thumbs up to start off the new restaurant season. Two established
restaurants gourmand continuing to satisfy, and two casual, reasonably priced Asian spots to take note of. Off to a good start, true, but as Co. can attest, watch out for that first step, it’s a doozy.

Mort’s One-Month Hiatus Highlights

More than one month without a blog installment – one would think Mortstiff & Co.
have starved to death. Au contraire, other preoccupations have intervened, such as my day job and a one-week trip to Slovenia, but that hasn’t prevented me from one of my favorite pasttimes--visiting restaurants. A little bit older, a lot fewer memory cells in the brain, but I’ll try to briefly summarize the highlights of my dining experiences during my non-blogospheric period. It may not surprise, but I have absolutely nothing to contribute about the restaurant scene in Slovenia. Stuck out in the countryside, a hop, skip, and jump from the Croatian border, there weren’t many options. Not to say that I didn’t eat well, but it wasn’t exactly fine dining either. A couple novelty dishes, such as soya goulash and massacred potatos, were more interesting for their butchered English translations than taste.

Back in France, the time spent consisted mostly of returns to some past haunts. After the satisfying first trip to L’Ourcine (see January 31), our second trip turned out to reflect a sophomore jinx. Could be my disappointment can be attributed to a limited menu of offerings that just didn’t appeal to my ever demanding palette. With a regularly changing carte, that could be rectified next visit, assuming there is a next visit. Also less impressive than usual was a return trip to La Cave Gourmande, but don’t get me wrong – it was still very good.
The audacious chef Mark Singer came to our table to ask whether we were aware that our wine selection – a 1999 Cotes du Ventoux – was a rather strong choice to accompany our fish entrees. Well, Mortstiff & Co. have been working on a case at home, so you might say we are rapidly becoming Ventoux aficionados. Rather than demure, we insisted, but it was a pretty amusing exchange. Our efficient and pleasant waitress frantically explained that her boss was not insane, just a bit eccentric.

The most satisfying meal during the hiatus had to be a return to Le Villaret, in the 11^th, not far from Place de la Republique. To date, Le Villaret is hands down my favorite Paris bistrot. I’ve probably frequented the place between 20-30 times, and I have never had a poor or mediocre meal there. I keep putting it off, but eventually I’ll write a more complete description. Just to say that my visit this time, with a friend visiting from ‘down under’ was terrific on several levels – quality of the food, wine, ambiance, and service. Zagat’s calls it ‘a hidden jewel’ – I would not disagree.

LE VILLARET
13, Rue Ternaux
75011 Paris
tel. +33 1 43 57 89 76

LA CAVE GOURMANDE
10, Rue Gén Brunet 75019 Paris
tel. +33 1 40 40 03 30