John Talbott's Paris

Partage in the 5th: Unfortunately, just not in the running: an archival* review.

Ø- Le PartaӘe, 17, rue Frédéric-Sauton in the 5th, 01 43 29 46 25, closed Mondays and Saturday noon has been open about a year and got two hearts in Figaroscope in October, a couple of other mentions and then dropped off the radar screen. I now know why.

Despite it’s being chef’d by an exPershing Hall guy and having one of the most engaging, charming hostesses in creation, it just doesn’t have any moxie. OK, why did it take me a year to eat there? Because there were places higher up on the list that had to be attended to.

Why did I finally eat there? Because it finally crept up on the list as a Sunday lunch place. OK.

One, or at least I, approached it from St Michel, weaving through the schwarma/Greek/dreck shops. From the outside it is stunning: small, upholstered couches and chairs, lovely. The menu – ie the carte – says its name is Le PartaӘe, like Le Tяuc + Le Transvзrsal, the reversed letter shows it’s a happening place, right?, after all, the water glasses are tilted and if you needed convincing, the place’s subtitle is “imaginaire et poetique.”

The menu – ah, first problem – not much I want/need (things like fish with curry, turnip soup, etc) and no “menu,” ie prix fixe. Only things that look good are the most expensive items, OK, suck it up, these days happen.

Second problem, loud Spanish torch songs, but I find myself tapping my fingers and forget to request dampening (I’m the only customer, so no competition in determining the level of noise).

Suddenly arrives an amuse bouche, good sign, firm mousse of salmon, runny mousse of watercress with leaves of watercress, looks great, tastes OK, but it’s a bit weak, limpid, pallid.

Then I order. 1st – a wonderful looking small mound of avocado with fried heads of ecrevisses stuck in, surrounded by their spectacular bodies and pink grapefruit slices. Maitresse says eat the heads, I do, they are perhaps the best element of any dish I’ve had in 2007. The rest – beautiful but tasteless product – damn I forgot my Tabasco sauce! And now I wanna leave but how?

A telltale sign of disaster – when you eat the bread to make up for what you’re not getting elsewhere. Main course arrives – scallops, minced cukes and fennel leaves in a transparent green sauce – you’ve got it, beautiful product that’s absolutely tasteless. How can this be happening to me? What did I do wrong Bacchus, Dionysus, Penates? I’ve led a clean life, enjoyed pleasures, suffered pain, but this, it’s not fair – especially on a beautiful sunny 90° afternoon in Paris.

I had no dessert or coffee but the mignardises weren’t totally inedible, the marshmallow was but not the hot banana slice.

Final hitch, the credit card machine wouldn’t work and I’d left my checks at home and had only 30 € in cash (PS she got it to work).

The bill 54 €.

My prediction, this poor guy and his (I assume) great Spanish wife will go back to cooking in someone’s empire (Ducasse, Robuchon, Costes, Flo, etc) in 18 months after this place tanks and after some seasoning (7 years is my guess) come back up to the majors.

Should one go? Sure, if you don’t care about money and plan on talking with your dear friends so much that you’ll not notice the food.

*Originally published in April 2007.

Le Bistro des Faubourgs: Amazingly bad, she said, amazingly bad: an archival * review.

-Ø - Le Bistro des Faubourgs, 55, rue des Vinaigriers in the 10th, 01 42 05 19 05, open Monday-Friday for lunch and Thursday and Friday for dinner, lunch menu 14 and a la carte around 30 €.

Phillipe Toinard of A Nous Paris gave it 3/5 blocks and called it ”girly food” and Richard Hesse said “you could make this food at home” – so, why did I go and drag my dear friend along, asked she? Because, I’ve been in such thrall of what an outsider, and an Anglo at that, Daniel Rose, of Spring, has done with French ingredients and Carolyn Buckley, its Irish chef, was reported to have a limited menu because she only served what was seasonal, fresh and current in the market. Probably – but that’s not enough.

Good things first; it’s in a reachable neighborhood, has a unique piece of “sculpture” with fresh produce on the wall and serves drinkable wine by the pot at a reasonable price (7 € for 50 cl).

My friend had the terrine that was served in a Aux Lyonnaisian Ball jar and it was unfinishable; dry, crumbly, pretty bad. I had the spring salad that was nicely dressed although the tomato was hot house and firm.

Then we both had the chicken with (supposedly) lemon/olive flavor; her leg was stale and barely edible, my breast was a bit more tasty; we left the accompanying mashed potatoes after one bite each.

For dessert she had a crumble and I the moelleux of chocolate that we each finished ¼ of; does that answer any questions you might have had?

The bill = 50.60 €. 

Should one go? If you find yourself in a post-Apocalyptic situation as in Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road,” yes.

*Originally published in April 2007.

Autour de..... in the 15th:Yet another surprise and a pleasant one: an archival* review.

5.0 N* Autour de.…, 397, rue de Vaugirard in the 15th, right near the Porte de Versailles and Convention Center, 01 45 30 18 47, menu 25 € and a la carte around 35 €, is open everyday and has a terrific long “terrace” facing an essentially empty square.

I went because the only person I recall reporting on it, Richard Hesse of Paris Update, was quite positive about the new chef’s productions.

I had a great starter of sautéed chipirons that, with spinach leaves and fried parsley and anise and dressing, was a terrific combo, which mopped up with good bread was terrific.

My main was/were fresh sardines accompanied by asparagus, artichokes and baby tomatoes. I finished with a moelleux of chocolate and salty caramel ice cream – nickel! (And the maitre d’ clearly had read my comment on eGullet last week about the window of time to cook a mi-cuit because he announced it was between 5 and 7 minutes.)

The wines run 4+ a glass, 15.50+ for ½ liter and 19+ € a bottle. The subtitle of the place is “Saveurs de Terroir et Autres Histoires” and it really was.

Only hitch: they screwed up the initial bill and charged me $10 more than they should of (I had the “menu.”) The second bill presented was 48.50 €.

Should one go? If you’re at the Parc des Exhibitions, as I was for the horrendously, awfully big “Foire De Paris,” it’s a better bet than the Restaurant du Marche and nearer than the great Beurre Noisette, so why not?

N* = a place that if one lived nearby in the neighborhood (N) would be a great place to go but gets a lower grade due to the schlep (perhaps unfairly).

*Originally published in May 2007.

Le Dan Bau in the 18th: Ethnic – horrors, I don’t do ethnic in France: an archival* review.

3.0 Le Dan Bau, 18, rue des Trois Freres in the 18th, 01.42.62.45.59, never closed. 

As my loyal and not-so-loyal readers know, I don’t report/review ethnic places in Paris because unless I’m here for a year plus, I’m perfectly happy sampling new and old French places. But, but, but, I decided today (actually last week) to eat tonite at a Viet Namese (yes it’s two words) place in the nabe because I was bushed after a flight across the seas, my regular 1st dinner rotisserie standby was closed and Richard Nahem of Parisist, a relatively new site that promotes itself as run by ex-New Yorkers, raved about it.

What my readers don’t usually know, however, is that for Viet Namese cooking I have very high, impossibly high standards – having eaten out and had a cook-in chef in Viet Nam while protecting our nation from the dominoes of Communism. (Sidebar, two members of the Elite Sai Gon De Luxe Eating Club were the recently late and very great reporters, Johnnie (RW Jr) Apple and David Halberstam).

Oh sure, I ate at Viet Namese places in Paris as a student, hey, they were cheap, good (what did I know about authentic ethnic cooking then?) and convenient. In any case, to my meal.

Located on a “happening” street, just away from tourist central on Montmartre (La Famille par exemple) it’s only got 27 covers and has surprisingly terrific wall-art. The menu (carte) looks not much different from any other Viet place in Paris; but the food, the food?

I started with the pork nems and couldn’t have been happier - crisp, great mint and lettuce leaves, too hot in temperature, but hey.

Then I had the Pho, my sustaining breakfast in Viet Nam; bland but with perfectly undercooked (eg raw) beef (albeit a poor cut) and noodles and interesting lemon grass, etc, but wait, what’s that beside it; what my culinary guiding family (we term them Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-il) call “Big Red,” except that in Viet Nam there are legions of such sauces. That was it!

With wine (1/2 bottle or 50 cl, it didn’t matter = 8.50 €.) My bill = 20 €. I challenge you on that. And they were turning people away. A downside – Don’t go if you’re subject to light-flashing induced seizures from light string fixtures – wow. 

Should one go? If one is on Montmartre, in need of ethnic food and not seizure-prone, definitely!

*Originally published in May 2007

Rich: The October surprise (and it’s only May): an archival* review.

6.0 Rich, 14, rue Cadet in the 9th, 01.48.01.87.87, menus at 25 and 30 € (the big boys say, but I only saw the menu-carte for three courses at 35 €), but running one up to 70 € a la carte without wine, is located in the old bourse where precious stones are or were polished/prepared/sold/who knows?

It is elegance itself. Wow! Upstairs is a baccarat-gaming/etc tabled bar/boite and downstairs a hip bar but on the ground floor is one of the nicest looking places I’ve been in, in years.

When I first read about it in Figaroscope, I thought – ho hum, 2 hearts, and 3 blocks by Toinard was equally unrevealing, but when it placed second in the running (to Spring natch) in Figaroscope’s ratings of new places this spring, that caught my attention. So off to the center of precious stone-kosher resto-land.

It’s just across the street from Le 7eme Sens which has a great chalkboard sign saying: “We speak English or at least we try.” Anyway, Rich is rich, in a great setting, warm welcome, fab home-made bread. Good signs.

I chose the fried gambas (4) with two sauces (spicy tomato and spicy vinegar) that exceeded the Bistrot Cote Mer 1990’s standard. Then I had the breast of chicken with a satay sauce and terrific rice (flavored with tea or jasmin or both.) (P. Gagnaire was correct, Asian influences are all over and Choukroun, Ledeuil and the Fooding bunch are to be commended for this.)

NB: there were lots of other choices: soups, salads, fish and meat courses as well as cheeses and desserts. Since I had some wine left (no ½’s but glasses are 6 and bottles start at 24 €,) I had two huuuuge slices of Corsican tomme with a wonderful fig confiture and a generous salad – just great.

Open 7/7 (therefore, a great Sunday lunch place).

Bill with 2 glasses of wine and coffee = 49.60 €.

Have I nothing bad to say? Sure: they have those stupid hand dry blowers in the loos. 

Q. Go? A. The New York Stone mart should have such a place.

*Originally published in May 2007

Good chow in tourist central?; it’s possible, maybe. An archival* review

2.5 Café de La Paix, place de l’Opera in the 9th, 01 40 07 36 36, open daily, with menus at 25 (1 course), 35 (2 courses) and 45 € (three), a la carte about 50 €. Who on earth would go to this tourist trap, best known as an after-opera/ballet dessert spot ? Me, after I learned that its new chef, Laurent Delarbre, was a MOF (Meilleur Ouvrier de France) and intended to modernize the menu.

I picked May 1st when openings/closings can be dicey and after weaving my way through/past dozens of sellers of lilies of the valley, plunging through Jean-Marie LePen’s manif and talking my way past the security guards (the poor restaurant was forced to hire two of them per entry door to keep the racist riffraff out,) I found myself back inside a place I haven’t been inside since the Jerome Robbins’ memorial at the Garnier almost a decade ago.

To my eyes, I saw not much change in décor but in the menu yes. The good news – my eating partner and I both had pretty good mains (me a perfectly undercooked and pretty tasty duck breast with shredded stewed duck morsels covered with julienned spring veggies; she three or four generous slices of joue de boeuf with fava beans and petit pois) and she loved her dessert of strawberry cake and ice cream.

But the firsts were pathetic (a tasteless, poor quality piece of marinated/singed tuna with tasteless shaved cucumber strips and a carrot soup with chicken strips); the bread was either old or store-bought; the service (you know what I mean) glacially slow and the 6 € apiece for (albeit good) coffee, an outrage.

Wines began at 25 € but even so the bill was 117 €/2 and we weren’t even able to see the Front National’s street theater although the cute little mouse scampering across the floor at the end of the meal was a pretty good show. 

Should one go? Hummm. As always, if you’re hungry after the ballet.

* Originally published in May 2007.

L'Office in the 9th: Another surprise and at terribly reasonable prices; an archival* review.

5.0 L’Office, 3, rue Richer in the 9th, 01.47.70.67.31, closed Saturday night and Sundays (despite what Figaroscope says) is just besides Le Jardinier and near a ton of hotels, making it a great destination for tourists on the prowl for a great, reasonably priced meal.

Entering I thought it was quite nice, small (20 covers) but outfitted quite well. Like Spring, which is just up the hill, it’s a one-man band with a teeny kitchen, I mean one oven and a frig and that’s it, forced “menu” at lunch and one server. However, the chef is flexible; after announcing the menu and seeing my face fall, he said of course we can also do…….. and so essentially we did have two choices for 1sts and 2nds which we took.

I chose the first from the “menu,” a spectacularly tasty beef bouillon with shreds of omelet, baby onions and fresh halved room-temperature baby tomatoes; my long-lost college classmate – three well-cooked, lovely shrimp on a bed of sautéed onions and something crunchy (Jerusalem artichoke, bleached fennel, hum).

Then he had the menu’s stewed pork on a bed of potatoes with a superbly spiced sauce; me – the onglet again cooked to perfection, sliced, sauced, on the bed of potatoes.

The dessert was a delicious three layered thing: currant brioche, apricots and a light creamy topping. When the guy asked for our coffee order I said “serre” and he replied “ristretto” – Illy it was.

Wines begin at 14 €.

Our bill was 48 € for two, that’s correct, for two. At night, the “menu” is 25, but even a la carte is only 30-35 €.

Any problems; if pressed, I’d reply that the toilet is small. Otherwise, this is where to send the next person wanting an inexpensive but good meal. 

Best value of the spring season!

*Originally published in May 2007.

Breizh Cafe in the 3rd: An upscale crepe or the revenge on Wolfgang Puck: an archival* review

4.1 Breizh Café, 109, Rue Vieille du Temple in the 3rd, 01.42.72.13.77, closed Sundays and Mondays is a really different kind of place than I and I daresay most French eaters have ever experienced and therefore is really unrateable.

Why? Because it does to crepes what Wolfgang Puck did with pizza; it turns them on their head; is the third branch of a Japanese outfit; and has two Japanese cooks who turn everything out effortlessly. The décor is what might charitably be called Breton-dock-ferry terminal waiting room modern, that is, strips of unfinished wood. The tables are functional and the menu huge.

There must be 20 crepe varieties divided into simple (such as one with one of three Bordier butters), complex (that start with an egg and usually have cheese, a meal/fish and something else) and the daily chalkboard specials (with provincial names like Auvergnate, Cancaloise, etc. that are also composed of a regional cheese, fish or meat and other items.)

We started off with 6 Tzarskaya oysters (apparently a favorite of the Tsar/Tzar) that were great with a “simple” crepe schmeared with smoked (correct) butter and not over-chilled (my friend and I simultaneously agreed).

Then we shared a platter of four different kinds of pig sausage/meat; quite good. Then to two fancy crepes: one with herring, warm potatoes and herring caviar; the other with egg, ham, cheese and confited onion; both again quite good. With them, of course we had two different “bio” ciders (but NB, they also have unique beers and some wine by the glass and bottle).

Dessert was another crepe with gariguette strawberries and what was called Chantilly but was firm not saucy and an ice-creamy yogurt.

Our bill = I have no idea. My buddy owed me a meal and settled up for us and was out the door while I was in the men’s so I never saw it. But Rubin says to count on 20-30 € per person without liquid.

Should one go? Well if you’re staying in the Marais, you’ll eat at a place of which there are only two others in the world and they’re in Cancale and Tokyo.

*Originally published in May 2007

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Update in March 2009 when Colette and I ate with our two 10-year old grandkids:

The Breizh Café was our choice the first day because I thought it would break them into the French resto scene easily. Unfortunately, they were really jet-lagged and sleepy, having watched movies all night on the plane, so one had just a green salad (which portion was most generous but whose dressing had no character) and the other a crepe with Valrhona chocolate, which was quite good.

Colette didn’t rave about her galette with Forme d’Ambert, pine nuts, grapes, honey and salad but I loved mine with raclette and pork poitrine and an egg.

We finished with a crepe with caramel sauce and ice cream that was yummy.

The bill with wine and coffee = 70 €.

 

Chez Papa in the 18th*: Just past Pollywood is Papa (read on - everything will be illuminated)

0. Chez Papa, 185, rue Marcadet in the 18th, 01.42.57.41.75, never closed (well, except for Christmas and New Year’s Day) is a chain – oh, they have places in the 14th and 15th, for which Pudlo gives different costs. In any case, I was walking either to the #1 2007 baguette place in Paris or Le Winch, the other day from Pollywood (you know Hollywood and Bollywood but we have Pathé Cinema’s studios in the vibrant 18th - known by some as Pollywood).

As I was saying, I was walking and saw a sign for Chez Papa and since the demise of Chez Tony, which was guaranteed to supply you with your quota of the food pyramid of wine, fat, foie gras, gizzards and duck, we’ve missed out on that last night South-west fat feast. So I scoped the menu, talked to my cardiologue (to reassure me that my cholesterol needed a boost) and booked a table for the night before I had to speed back to the US to attend to pressing business (isn’t that what they all say when fleeing the sheriff ? )

Anyway, I entered (this is, by the way, walking distance for me) and it was terrific – bright, welcoming, no-smoking (all night) and thoroughly delightful. My favorite 18th Arr. bloggeur/food writer said that this chain was a place for young kids to get cheap meals, so I was forewarned.

Lots of great Southwestern stuff; everything from v. expensive foie gras to cheap tripes. On entering, I lowered the average age to about 80. Oh oh. But soldier on, there’s no other option. I’ve cleaned out the frigo, the larder is empty, the garde mange vide.

Menu huuge. Had a green salad – huuge but good greens and passable dressing (bread pathetic).

Then the cassolette Papa, huuge, ate a few bites; watery, beans tasteless, duck equally so – awful, nul, gargh.

How to exit gracefully; ah hah, I forgot to mention that Papa of Chez Papa, looks exactly like me, when my beard was black and I didn’t have the silly beret.

So I made some sort of mention of our genetic heritage and exited.

Wines: 2.60 a glass up, bottles 14.45 € up, my bill, it’s here somewhere, ah yes – 29.50 €. Can’t beat that, but…….

PS, they had a questionnaire on the placemat assessing your proclivities: eg, your gender, how you found it, quality of product, etc., but no place to give your real opinion about the food - as indeed, they’ve prevented me from voting for Frederic Nihous of the Fish, Game and lovely French Culture and Tradition Party, tomorrow. The only other food-guy running, Jose Bove, who loves Roquefort but hates McDo’s, is out as well. Oh well, France says it loves food but that love doesn’t apparently translate into votes. 

Should one go? The waitress was the best of this decade despite her dreadful tattoos, the range of SW stuff great, the product unblemished and fresh, but I/you/your partner/your enemy can do better easily at home.

*Originally published in May 2007.

L'Escargot in Puteaux: A 1950’s country truck stop near La Defense; an archival* review.

1.0 l’Escargot, 18, rue Charles Lorilleux in Puteaux (essentially La Defense), 01.47.75.03.66, closed Saturday lunch and Sundays, has two menus; offering two dishes for 22 and three for 29 €.

In a prior life, I directed a team that examined professional candidates for an advanced credential and I always cautioned the examiners to see two candidates before rating/grading the first so they’d have a better sense of the spread/range. Well, today’s meal set the floor/platform for the month of June.

I invited as my guest the contemporary “hostess with the mostest” (does that date me or what?), Phyllis/Felice Flick, thinking that I was doing her a favor by inviting her to walk a mere 400 meters from work to dine at a place I was convinced would duplicate, if not exceed, my charming meal at Pere Lapin just a stop or two further down Tram line #2 in Suresnes last September; wrong!

We met at Mitterand’s great arch and while a crow might fly 400 meters to the resto, we walked forever through the most bizarre set of lobbies, underpasses and passerelles I’ve ever seen (PS we had maps from Michelin, Mapquest and Yahoo and they were of no help). The restaurant is in a dumpy neighborhood, looks dumpy from outside and is dumpy within.

The bread, however, looked great. The menu was most ample, with daily specials, and the wines were reasonably priced (18 € up).

We started with light firsts; she had fine minces of bar cru with “fresh” mint that looked weeks old; I had fine ecrevisses with a great tangy sauce but served with extremely tired salad leaves.

Then we both had wonderfully crusty meat, char-grilled - she had a fine product, the entrecote with an OK béarnaise sauce, but I had a dreadful product, a carré d’agneau – but both of our potato dishes were pathetic: undercooked, soggy and tasteless.

To add to the roller-coaster experience, our shared crème brulee was great, ditto the coffee. Oh, yah, that great looking bread was awful too. The bill = 75€. 

Should One Go? Why? Did you just get divorced, widowed, abandoned and sleep on a couch in your La Defense office? OK. I understand.

*Originally published in June 2007.