Mansouria - No Aces in the Desert

Paris is no desert, especially when it comes to Moroccan restaurants, but unfortunately Mansouria is no oasis in the crowd.  Funny, I used to think it was.  Last decade, Co. and I had probably made the trip over to the Faidherbe-Chaligny Bermuda Triangle for a Moroccan repast 4 or 5 times, but for some reason the restaurant fell off our charts.  As a longtime mainstay, we considered the ambiance and cooking a cut above average compared to your typical neighborhood Moroccan.  Co. always commented about how the lamb had that special something, and I always enjoy a tasty, steaming hot tagine.

And so it was about a month ago when I suddenly had the inspiration to return to Mansouria for something a bit off the beaten path of neo-bistrots/contemporary French cuisine.  Out of the metro bearing northwest instead of northeast, the latter in the direction of Paul Bert and his neighbors.  There she was, an impressive orange glow on the corner, and upon entry, nothing much had changed.  Inside, several small, well-appointed rooms await, but we were led - as is often a custom when the restaurant hasn't yet filled up - to a conspicuous table next to a front window.  Check out the website for some more photos of the various
Mansourian rooms.  Elegant, chic, very Middle Eastern, yes indeed.

Not one who usually opts for a fixed menu in ethnic establishments, I found everything I desired in the reasonably-priced menu Diaffa (28€) - the briwatte du fromage entry, poulet tagine with lemon and olives, and an unassuming refresher for dessert.

Co. went with the spicy shrimp fingers (Les doigts de la mariée, 8€), the aforementioned lamb couscous (20€), and a tea gourmand (accompanied by 2 cornes de gazelle - those half-moon-shaped almond pastries, 8€).  

And this is what the tagine and lamb looked like, respectively:

 

As perhaps suggested by the photos, the meal left us wondering why we had thought Mansouria was so wonderful.  My tangine was uninspired, and Co. opined that her lamb was lacking that special something, whatever it ever had been.  The accompanying dishes were pretty forgettable.  Service was friendly and attentive, and sure enough, it wasn't long before the place filled up, another busy night in the popular Triangle, location perhaps having a lot to do with Mansouria's longevity.  My two thumbs up went up for the couscous, delicate and fine, as it should be, and the little dish of overly spicy harissa I had requested.  I noticed the server issuing the same warning to each table, along the lines of 'you must be careful not to try this because it is so spicy.'  Is such concern really warranted?  I mean, when I ask for hot sauce, I only want to be warned when it isn't going to melt the inside of my mouth.  I have to admit, though, this one was pretty melt-worthy.

Overall, with a decent Moroccan red for a change (Riad Jamil, 26€), our dinner clocked in at 90€ for a truly unimpressive price-quality relationship.  Trust me, you can do as well, or better, at a far more reasonable price at your neighborhood Moroccan standby, which is where I'll be headed next time.

MANSOURIA
11 rue Faidherbe
75011 Paris
tel: 01.43.71.00.16
web: http://www.mansouria.fr/

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