La Vitrine - Spring Backwards, Fall Ahead

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

La Table D’Eugène - Jean Genie

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