Relais de Guermantes: Proust Country the Geurmantes Way

If you remember your Proust, you no doubt recall that the Geurmantes name figures prominently in the author's epic Remembrance of Things Past.  Not far from the Geurmantes manor you'll find a cozy country inn that itself looks like something that sprung out of a historic French novel, and the setting for mine and Co's choice on the 'at least one restaurant out in the country per summer' circuit.  This being late August, we didn't have much time left to choose, and our preference, La Mere Au Diable turned out to be closed for vacation for another week.  The devil is in the details, so to Le Relais de Guermantes we gamboled. 

Le Relais was definitely open, with each table in the smallish secluded courtyard eventually taken, and some tables in the quaint restaurant interior also filled.  You couldn't ask for a more idyllic late summer, early evening setting, even with the occasional mosquito dropping by for a chat.  Unfortunately, the setting trumped the food, which ranged from pretty good (my croustillantes de gambas served with a puree of avocado and a pepper chutney) to pretty bland (Co's lamb, a replacement for the gigot on the carte which was unavailable).  If you check out the carte below (click to enlarge), you'll observe that Co. opted for the 34.50€ Maxine menu and I went upscale with the 44€ offering.  Washed down with a reasonably priced Saint Nicolas de Bourgueil (28€), which arrived at the table from a rather frigid cave.

 

And here's what the food looked like:

 

 

 

Alas, the closest we got to a madeleine were the little cakes that made up part of my dessert, the illustrious Cafe Gourmand, which was better than this usually turns out, and accompanied by a nifty wooden box containing various sugars, pistachio nuts, and chocolate pieces filled with marshmallow.  However pleasant the meal turned out to be, it fell way short of Proust's famous madeleine moment from the Remembrance books:

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin.

LE RELAIS DE GUERMANTES
Place de l'Eglise
77600 Guermantes
tel: 01 64 30 13 03
website: http://www.relais-de-guermantes.com/

L'Apibo - Fresh Air and Breaking Glass

Last Friday night Co. and I ventured to rue Tiquetonne, the animated, pedestrian-oriented street in Paris's Montorgueil quarter to check out L'Apibo, a small venue across street from what appears to be a very popular pizzeria, amid a plethora of other cafes and restaurants.  This being a temperate evening in the waning weeks of the summer, we asked for one of the 10 or so tables on the sidewalk.  Our Thai hostess/owner/waitress (staff on vacation, we were informed) congenially discussed with us the absurd evening ritual of garbage collection - on rue Tiquetonne, not once, but twice - on a Friday evening when people are outside trying to eat.  She ruminated on the god-awful parking situation - thankfully, we took the metro - and how her unassuming moto was ticketed twice in the past week.  But otherwise, the street was more people than vehicles, the main form of transportation being the asundry baby carriages we espied as parents waited to be seated at the pizzeria.  Animated more than boisterous, except for the obnoxious guffaw coming from a pizzeria table of heavy drinking, but apparently harmless, Eastern Europeans. C'est la vie a Paris.

I remember reading another post about L'Apibo somewhere (now forgotten), with the author dubbing the restaurant as 'quasi-gastronomique' - I can't say I disagree.  As described at the restaurant's website, L'Apibo offers 'une cuisine d'instinct, curieuse et spontanée,' and I think you'll figure that one out even if you don't speak French.  Note that the description doesn't say 'fantastic,' 'unforgettable,' and 'super-fantastic,' but you can't have eveything.  Price/quality speaking, you could do worse.  Chef Anthony Boucher conjured up a very satisfying, quasi-innovative, summery carte on the night of our visit.  All washed down with a very good Corsican Sartene red (28€).  Grand total: 92€.

Not long after we were seated we were brought a refreshing amuse bouche in the form of a cold melon soup.  

Co. and I opted for the 3 course 32€ menu, selecting from among the options classified under the headings, 'pour commencer,' 'pour continuer,' and 'pour finir.'  There, you've just learned some more French.  The carte looked like this (click to enlarge):

A commencer:  Nearly seduced by the gambas, I ended up more intrigued by the daurade tartare, accompanied by vegetables, deli style pickles (hard to find in Paris), wasabi, and lime, the latter three being my Achille's (or is it stomach's) heel.  This was good, but nothing special until I hit the wasabi, which, when combined with the pickle, adhered to L'Apibo's promise of instinct, curiosity, and spontaneity.  Co., ever a lover of the foie gras, selected foie gras (and that's not a carrot, but a piece of melon you see).  On a warm night, these dishes hit the spot, even if they came up short of dazzling.  Meanwhile, a couple more hearty guffaws and rowdy back pats from our European neighbors across the narrow street at the pizzeria.

ALERT: Don't rush out to get your eyes examined, yes, my tablet camera failed me again and the photos below are blurry.  But consider this, if you drink a lot and then go to L'Apibo and keep drinking, this is probably what you food will actually look like.

A continuer:  The highlights of the meal fell in this category, with Co.'s bar on a bed of black rice (also hard to find in Paris), tandoori sauce, and eggplant caviar on one hand, and on the other, my stuffed encornet with blettes (chard) and pine nuts.  Both of us turned out to be reluctant to swap much of either dish and when we did, it was a jolt, with tastes apparently coming from opposite sides of the globe.  Meanwhile, some louder discourse from our European neighbors.

 

A finir: Summery selections, Co. went with the peaches and I went with the far healthier chocolate, both pretty decent.  Meanwhile, more yukking it up by our European neighbors across the narrow street at the aforementioned pizzeria.

 

And a grand finish it was:  as we stood and began to navigate our way past the tables to the left, all of a sudden our Eastern neighbors' table across the narrow street at the pizzeria thrust forward and every single plate, glass, and bottle smashed into a million pieces in the middle of the street.  Continuing with the evening's theme, an act replete with instinct, curiosity, and spontaneity.  My only regret is that I didn't take a photo, but the ever popular phrase 'it looked like a war zone' should suffice.


L'APIBO

31 rue Tiquetonne
75002 Paris
tel:  01 55 34 94 50
website: http://www.restaurant-lapibo.fr/

La Fontaine De Mars - Institutionalized

In accidental honor of the start of a real-life heatwave, with Paris finally joining the global warming trend, Co. and I hooked up with our Texan- pardners-by-way-of-New Jersey and now in Paris to stay for a dinner at La Fontaine de Mars, a Parisian dining institution in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.  You get to be called an 'institution' when you've been in business at the same address since 1908 - other than the same address part, I am rapidly closing in on

institutional status myself, but let's not go there.  For me and Co., this was our first return appearance at said institution in 13 years, a rather unimpressive debut for which all I could remember is that I ate something with an egg in it.  Not a good sign, but I was up for giving La Fontaine a second chance, the first since the famous "Obama ate there" cache.  Now expanded, the restaurant on this balmy Friday evening had a very open and airy feel about it,

with a stable of tables in the front, and scattered along an adjoining courtyard.  Even our indoor table had the feel of being outside, with the open area leading to the courtyard right off one side.

Another part of being a restaurant institution is that those tables tend to be filled, with a combo of tourists and locals, and the carte never seems to change.  Yes, there are eggs on the dinner menu in one façon or another, a peculiarity of the southwestern cooking emphasis.  One of the entree specialities, oeufs meurette (11€), or two eggs baked in red wine, shallot and bacon sauce, received high praise from our pardner who knows a thing or two about searing bacon in reduced red wine, and in his humble opinion, La Fontaine got it right.  I enjoyed my special plat du jour, supions a la plancha 21€), at least more than our other pardner who expected something more in the way of grilled.  Co. really appreciated her magret canard (29€), and once we swapped dishes mid-stream, I had to agree it outdid my calamari.  The three of us who opted for dessert all curiously trended toward lemon, maybe thinking the tarte du jour would slake the heat or something, and it did the job, without anything spectacular to tell granny about.  Here's a pictorial display for your delight (click to enlarge and save your eyes):

 

Roulé d'aubergine confite au chèvre frais (14€) - you don't see this on many cartes; nice sauce.

Terrine de canard Maison au foie gras (15€) - half gone, once Co. and I did our swap.  This trumped the eggplant dish.  I was surprised - positively - that this wasn't more of a jellied terrine dish.  Pretty tasty.

This here is the soupions Friday special, the baby calamari resting comfortably on a bed of mashed potatoes (21€).

Tartare de boeuf (21€) - how else to follow up reduced wine and bacon?

The lemon tarte du jour (11€)

All in all, an enjoyable meal, and as mentioned, I'm glad our pardners recommended it, because I wouldn't have gone back on my own after our initial rather disappointing excursion.  I can't remember the servers at all, which is an especially nice asset when you prefer to concentrate on conversation with your friends without unnecessary interruptions.  My gripe, and you've heard this before, is that the carte is of the 'a la' nature, lacking a more affordable fixed price menu.  Nonetheless, we did wine on the cheap, going with a couple bottles of the low-priced, but decent house wine,“Sélection Fontaine de Mars” at 16€ a pop, and the total for four came in at a reasonable 203€.  Check out those red and white checkered tablecloths - an institution in their own right.

LA FONTAINE DE MARS  

129, rue Saint Dominique

75007 Paris

tel: 01 47 05 46 44

website:  http://www.fontainedemars.com/index.html

 

 

L'Ebauchoir - Eat A Peach

I was up for something off the beaten path from the tour of the fancy neo-bistrots, which in the past months has included some old favorites and some new discoveries.  Something more traditional, an old Parisian mainstay, popular and summery with outdoor dining possibilities, now that we are deep in the heart of summer in the capital, and for once the weather is temperate and sunny and the livin' is easy.  Fish are jumpin', etc.  What do you want, I just learned a new jazz arrangement for Summertime on the guitar, so the tune keeps haunting me.

And so, verdict is in, L'Ebauchoir it was.  According to minimal research, everybody loves L'Ebauchoir for its conviviality, traditional and tasty cooking, at - drum roll, please - low prices and space for twenty diners out on the 'terrace,' facing the rather non-descript and shady rue de Citeaux in the heart of the Faidherbe - Chaligny area, where one week earlier, Co. and I had a terrific meal a couple blocks away at 6 Paul Bert.


One of the main reasons I chose L'Ebauchoir was to dine outside, but by the time we arrived in the early evening, the sun had deserted rue de Citeaux and Co., feeling a chill, pushed me through the door and the host did the rest, leading us to a small table by the window.  Even inside though, L'Ebauchoir was airy and open enough to suggest outdoor dining, so what the hey.  Well, no question, this is a convivial and popular joint - the host and his minions made for a laid-back, friendly, and competent staff and the atmosphere, filled with apparent locals, wall mural, and antique mirrors certainly made us feel at home, home being Paris, France.  The food and prices, however, served to undermine the overall experience, with disappointments on both fronts.


Heavy on meat, with a couple entree and dessert specials on the posted blackboard, it was quickly evident that long-term owners Thomas Dufour and Thierry Bruneau had a run on peaches this week, because a majority of dishes included peaches in one facon or another.  I was tempted by the entree special - a crab salad on avocado (14€) but instead opted for mozzarella buffalo with peaches in a green pea sauce (13€).  This dish looked better than it tasted, the taste being rather bland, although the pea sauce definitely served well for sopping via the tastier than usual slices of baguette.

Co's entree, the tuna tartare (14€), was probably the hit of the evening, with its large chunks of marinated tuna bearing an unidentified spice that left a curiously interesting aftertaste - in a good way.

On to the plates, with your's truly opting for the one main course fish dish on the evening's carte, a slab of tuna on a hefty and heavily marinated slice of eggplant, with pea pods, small roasted potatoes, and aforementioned peaches (22€).  Again, this looked better than it tasted.  I really had a hard time finishing this for lack of interest halfway through.  The potatoes were tasty, but the fish, which I had asked to be cooked 'a rose,' was in fact overcooked for my taste, and dry as a result, and the eggplant did not compute at all.

 

Not to brag or anything, but the fish tacos I concocted the night before were far superior to L'Ebauchoir's tuna dish, so why not take a gander at my own personal baby.  Light, spicy, and tasty - everything my main course at L'Ebauchoir was not.  Attention - you cannot order this fish taco dish at L'Ebauchoir, but if you would like the recipe, let me know.

Co. complained less, but was nonetheless uninspired by her lamb, potato puree (with three pieces of garlic embedded), and courgettes melange (20€).  Maybe it needed some peaches...

My dessert was a no-brainer, L'Ebauchoir's trademark dish, the traditional gateau riz (rice pudding cake), just like your mammy used to make if your mammy made rice pudding cake.  This arrived in a metal cooking container that contained enough gateau riz to feed four diners - you take as much as you want, which mirrors the restaurant's 'au comptoir' option for wine if you choose not to select an entire bottle.  For the wine, you pay as you go; for the dessert, you pay 7€, regardless of how much you consume.  Well, I don't deny, this was really good.  I disagree with one disenchanted diner's  online assessment arguing that this dish was overrated because the caramel syrup overwhelmed the cake.  I think that syrup really made the dish special.

 

Co. went with the dessert special, an almond mouse with raspberries, and seemed perfectly happy with her choice (8€).  Oddly, the chef apparently deemed the peaches to be appropriate for all menu items save the desserts. 

 As for wine, we opted for the special of the evening, a bottle of Poivre et Sel (Gamay, Pineau d'aunis), which was as light and fruity as the waiter promised (no peaches included, thankfully) (26€). Otherwise, the wine menu is copious and fairly priced.

As you can surmise, the meal was hearty - a carte, save the peaches, that would have been at home in the middle of winter, with its heavy emphasis on meat among its main dishes (with a vegetarian dish included, it is fair to say), more traditional than innovative, and no great shakes.  That's well and good when all you are expecting is an unpretentious, low-priced meal in a popular, pleasant Parisian bistrot.  But whereas I had been led to expect, from my humble pre-dinner research, something around a 60€ bill, we ended up paying nearly twice as much (110€), something you already know if you were keeping a running score as you read the above.  That's not outrageous by Paris standards and is, in fact, around what we usually pay (or at least not significantly lower) for the innovative neo-bistrots I usually write about.  In fact, it's a couple euros more expensive than the far more interesting and satisfying meal we had last week at 6 Paul Bert - in fact, no comparison.  L'Ebauchoir would have received less of my chagrin had their carte included a reasonably priced three-course menu, but alas, that was not to be had, and what you end up with is a price/quality ratio overwhelmingly favoring price.  My recommendation, if you must, is to go there for lunch.  Especially if you have a peaches fetish.

L'EBAUCHOIR 

43/45 rue de Citeaux
75012 Paris
tel. 01 43 42 49 31
website:  http://www.lebauchoir.com/

6 Paul Bert - Diner's Delight

Cross an upscale American diner (the place, not the person who eats in it) with a country store and voila you've got 6 Paul Bert, aptly named - though with no great originality - for its corner locale on rue Paul Bert, numero 6, and listed as one of Condé Nast’s Best New Restaurants of 2013.  Earth to bistrot - scratch one of the sixes on the facade, lest people think they are eating at  66 Paul Bert.  Bertrand Auboyneau is the Godfather of aforesaid rue, owning two successful restaurants there already: the mainstay, Paul Bert, of course, and L'Ecailler du Bistro.

When you enter you see the shelves of condiments - bottles and tins - which gives an initial impression of country story or urban farmhouse, but that first impression is quickly dispelled by the zinc bar, hanging silver lamps, two long rows of rectangular tables, both pretty much communal given the couple of centimeters than separate each, and small open kitchen in the rear, over which conspicuously hangs one of those retro primary school wall clocks.  Co. and I had little difficulty reserving about a week in advance, a bit surprising given the apparent popularity of the place, but this being the first 'grand depart' weekend of the Parisian vacances, maybe the fact that the Parisians are fleeing had something to do with it.  Still, can't complain about availability.

6 Paul Bert slants towards Septime originality, with a more Au Passage tapas motif.  Basically, what that means is that the dishes are excellent . . . but small.  My langoustine tartar dish was veritably microscopic - gone in a flash - but really really good.  The carte, see below, offers several choices which can be selected ala carte, but your best bet is the 42€ menu including your choice of three dishes and one dessert (or a cheese plate).  That should do the job - it did for us.  And as is usually the case with such creative concoctions, there may be some misses, but most of our dishes were unanimously hits.

    le carte, early July 2013 (click to enlarge)

 

Here you've got our first dishes - in the foreground, my tartare de langoustine and the purple chou-fleur . . . as good as this tasted, there should have been more.  By the time I got my mouth around the subtleties of taste, it was gone.  Poof.  In the background, Co's petit poulpes, courgettes and capers, a much more copious plate.  Co. didn't see much innovative about the dish, but once we swapped, I was more impressed, especially as the confit de lemon (I think) meshed with the bouillon de jambon, pouples,and capers.  Impressive.

Closeup on the tartare de langoustine.  Cross a lobster with a crayfish and it's offspring will come out not unlike a langoustine, the tartare almost sweet to the taste.

 Moving right along, next stop, my choice of bonite with chou rouge - the white glop is a faisselle a l'amande.  Not unlike raw tuna, this dish really rocked.  

Whereas Co. waited patiently to dig into her carpaccio de paleron de bouffe, with more chou and a radi  and  mayonaisse ciboulette.

 

For my third dish, I went with the artichokes, bulots, peas, and aoili.  I was least impressed by this dish, but fascinated by the odd pairing of bulots and artichokes.

  

Meanwhile, Co nearly fell off her chair with glee over this pigeon and mushrooms preparation.  Once again, an odd pairing of the pigeonneau and myrtilles fruit, made this a very special dish.

Dessert time - three choices, all seasonal fruit-based dishes.  I went red, Co. went grapefruit.  Understated and good, but not knock your socks off great.

No question, chef Louis-Philippe is not afraid to mix and match, with odd seasonal combinations which mostly seem to work.  Sommelie Solenne Jouan oversees the impressive and reasonably priced selection of natural wines.  We chose an inexpensive Touraine (La Butte Puzelat 2012) at 24€, bringing the tab to a 108€ total and an ideal price/quality ratio.

 If you want more, check out some of Louis-Philippe's other offerings here and here.  Or better yet, why not try reserving and eating there yourself.  Then post your photos here, really, it's allowed.  Don't be afraid.

6 PAUL BERT

street address:  take a wild guess

tel. 01 43 79 14 32

website:  huh?

The Godfather hisself.