6.4 Le Flamboire, 54, rue Blanche in the 9th, 06.95.01.77.38, closed Sunday (Metro: equidistant from Blanche and Pigalle) opened 2 January and was, according to its genial patron, master rotisseur and host, Jean-Yves Chesneau, only discovered by Francois-Regis Gaudry 2 weeks later when he stumbled out of the horrible 2 inch snow (take that Colorado and Siberia) and wrote it up in L'Express Styles.
Vegans, vegetarians and others with serious concerns about their arteries, despite the three crustacean and fish dishes, should probably avoid it, but for those of us who will believe in Fame's "I'm gonna live forever," this is Carnivore-Central - right up there with but a bit after Severo, Bis, Les Quilles, Le Meating, etc, etc.
We started with three "naturals" for boys eating out before the ballet - a multo-superior salade Flamboire of toasted bread, warmed goat cheese and chorizo (I think) - I mean really superior; foie gras and terrific bread; and a terrine Flamboire, which suited me just fine.
Then, showing us that all their products were nickel, they served us up top-of-the-line pork, beef (filet) and lamb (3 chops) with, oh my gosh, incredible potatoes, very differently flavored cornichons with herbs (not your Monoprix variety), 3 sauces (ciboulette and creme fraiche, something only my buddy Randy D. could identify and cauliflower in a creamy but not cream sauce).
At this point I called for a cessez-le-feu or cessation des hostilités (which is correct, I dunno?) but my buddies, who were eating like they'd just arrived from Romania (inside joke), hadda have dessert - thus a creme thing with red fruits and a chocolate fondant which M. Chesneau immediately declared insufficiently fondant (which it was) and commanded a second - which was.
With 1.5 bottles of Faugeres, 1 coffee, very, very decent bread and both an extra fondant and digestif (offered because M. was so sympa about my leaving my friend sitting here yesterday while I was sitting 1000 meters away) our bill per couple would truly be 109.33 E.
Go? Oh my; if you want superior product, cooked on the grill exquisitely, and served with a dash of pride and provenance - this is your spot. Plus the NYT hasn't figured it out yet.