John Talbott's Paris

Zero de Conduite in the 18th: the streak in the quartier stops here.

1.0 (and I'm being generous in awarding points for the welcome, decor and location), Zero de Conduite aka Restaurant0 de Conduite aka Rest 2DAY, 44, rue Joseph de Maistre in the 18th, 01.58.59.34.39, is where the former Sourdine and before that Le Cercle and before that - a place with Royal Air Force plates and polished Brit silver and good chow - was situated - but how does that have anything to do with today's meal, John?  It doesn't but i had to fill in some space since my report will be so sparce.

I got there a bit ahead of my multi-authoress (is that really a word?) buddy who'd listed this on her possibilities and I chose it over a sandwicherie.  The carte was astonishing - 3 courses for 14 E, 2 for 12 E and wines for 4 E a glass.  My heart sank; how can they do gambas and boeuf bourgignon for those prices unless they got the stuff from Metro?  Bingo!  I had a quick Chinon while awaiting Madame.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was smart and ordered scrambled eggs (whose egg carton was clearly visible on the shelf of the American/California kitchen and thus guaranteed to be fresh) while I had the giblets and smoked duck breast salad which was OK despite being drenched in faux Balsamico dressing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, she was smart again and ordered the entrecote, which couldn't have been frozen/Metro or could it, while I was naive and ordered the sauteed gambas on a mound of pureed carrots - I'm not sure which was worse, the frozen soggy thawed out Metro gambas or the yucky carrots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For dessert she ordered the tarte Tatin, which wasn't half-bad but I thought the chocolate mousse might be like that at Bouclard a few meters away - Wrong!

We had a bottle of Graves and a glass of Chinon, no bottled water, but 2 coffees and our bill was 59 E, a season's record if only the food weren't so dreadful.

Go?  Why not go to Metro yourself instead, defrost a few crappy dishes and force your friends to eat it all?  It's really too bad since I wanted to gloat about how all these new places (Sens Unique, Clocher de Montmartre, Lui....Insolite) were cropping up in MM.

PS Because we were behind a pillar of salt, we couldn't see either of the staff and they didn't look around it, so we were stuck with "poor service."

PPS For the curious, the name of the place - Zero de Conduite - is of course that of the famous film of the same name that was suppressed/repressed/banned for 10 years for reasons still not clear to me; when have adolescent schoolboys not rebelled against authority?

Sens Unique in the 18th: Great food is for us a very convenient place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sens Unique in the 18th is a place I more or less stumbled on last month and found quite respectable for our region of the universe.  Today I returned with Colette and our downstairs' male neighbor, the weaker sex of the couple being off to do museums and salad.  The Marilyn Monroe movie opens here this week but the decor and clientele were here long before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My friend Paga had a molded mound of chopped mango and gambas that was quite as good as my 12 oysters, 4 each of three kinds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette then had lovely-produced and perfectly-cooked and citrus-covered scallops with an almost-millefeuille of sliced potato and bacon while my neighbor and I each had the 400-500 grams of luscious sole with a creamy butter sauce and (for me) rather decent mashed potatoes.

For dessert Colette had the dream of her life - a moelleux of caramel - with a small wedge of baked apple, quite nice if I do say so myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our bill, with forgetable haddock rillettes and OK bread, no bottled water and two bottles and a glass of wine as well as two Calvas (offered) was 190 E, thus 126.66 E a couple.

It turns out that Colette has a culinary double - Shop non stop http://www.colette.fr/#/a/3/eshop/246/food/ nifty eh?

Le Clocher de Montmartre: Some* serious food steps from Sacre Coeur

Le Clocher de Montmartre represents a break-through for the (Mont)montagnards; like Hillary planting a flag atop Everest, the existence of decent food on the top of our hill is noteworthy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This time I was sitting facing the wall and thus in a position to see both the superheros and saucer and spoon light fixtures.  The amuse gueule of mushroom soup and foie gras on toast started us off on a very nice note indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For firsts we had the warm langoustine tails on salad that were superb and what were called nuggets [sic] of pork but were essentially curried pork croquettes that I was not as wild about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ladies proceeded to have the special of the day - succulent duck filets - approximating the best I've ever had, M. had an entrecote which was well, an entrecote, and I had the biggest lobe of veal liver imaginable, not cooked quite raw enough for me but certainly within the boundaries.

We all shared a Paris-Brest which was so good that we took one home for breakfast the next day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our bill with a bottle of wine a couple, no bottled water, good bread with good butter that come with it, one glass of tea and four coffees, came to 87.25 E.

*Some serious food; my only beef with this place is that its menu has too much tilt towards club sandwiches, salads and brunch stuff and too few traditional French food offerings but maybe when summer comes, they'll needall that stuff for the tourists.

 

Le Coq Rico in the 18th: has Westermann broken the Montmartre curse?

5.5 Le Coq Rico (pun, got it - cocorico, le coq gaulois, that rooster on every French sports' player's Coq Sportif shirt or is that dating me?), 98, rue Lepic in the 18th, (Bus: Montmartrebus) is the third of Antoine Westermann's Paris adventures (after Mon or Au Vieil Ami and Drouant - the first inconsistent and the second right on), 01.42.59.82.89, open 7/7, commenced with such a media blitz/buzz from the Big Boys that you'd'av'thot it was the Second Coming.  Good food at the top of the Mont - no way.

Give them credit, Westermann and chef Thierry Lebe and their investors (many of whom I sensed in the room today) have torn the old Divette du Moulin apart and reassembed it into a cool largely stone-walled 20 seat restaurant, many seat bar/counter facing the kitchen (above),

and a 14 seat private backroom with a huge wine selection.

The menu is all fowl all the time, from eggs to soup, from foie gras to chicken and pintade.  Much has been made about the 92 E cost of a whole chicken, but divided by four it is normal; get off it.

For starters, my companion chose the egg (OK) which, with a dipping bread-stick, OK, was OK; while I had the hearts, gizzards, livers with foie gras and (I think I got it right) curried fritters which were to my tongue, much more adventuresome.

 

 

For mains we chose - her, the chicken, me, the pintade; verdict, her 22 E chicken was far superior to my 25 E pintade, but, but, but, when the pintade was topped with the cabbage - wow!  The frites were OK, the salad nicely dressed and the bread and Baratte bois butter were outasight.

Our bill, with a bottle and a glass of wine (it's a long story), no bottled water or desserts but two coffees was 108 E.

Go?  When it's 22°F and climbing the Mont is like Everest without oyygen, I dunno', but in the summer, when there's little else up here except for Au Clocher de Montmartre and farther down, Sens Uniques, the Table d'Eugene and Lui l'Insolent, I could reconsider.

Le Clocher de Montmartre: What's in the water way up here?

6.0 Le Clocher de Montmartre, 10 rue Lamarck in the 18th (No Metro but either the funicular and Montmartre bus will get you there), 01.42.64.90.23, open 7/7, is Antoine Heerah’s third place (after Le Chamarre & Moulin de la Galette, [neither of which I liked much]) and will become, I predict, the only restaurant over 100 meters on the Mont worth visiting in short order.  Everyone knows the water tower next to Sacre Coeur but nobody knows what they're putting in it these days to trickle down to the new superb places like Le Clocher, Sens Uniques and Lui... L'insolent.

I went with my favorite downstairs' French neighbor, who knew the place from its prior owner who was, with her, a member of either the Polish-French underground or the conductor of a group of elderly women singing songs either celebrating Montmartre's independance from Paris and France in 1871 or Montmartre's silly wine harvests.  In any case, she said its interior had been totally redone but they had preserved the La Boheme view of the city below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On reading the first review of it I'd seen I was wary of mixing hamburgers and langoustines, salads and eggs, tarts and soups, but in fact, while eclectic, the carte is pretty comprehensive.  My friend started with a salad with what was called fish from the ends of the world.  We had quite a discussion of where exactly drilling straight down from Montmartre would land you, Heerah hails from the l'île Maurice, but her dish had salmon, smoky halibut, eel, tuna and two kinds of fish eggs, so maybe it was just descriptive.  Oh yah, it was also terrific.  And I had wonderfully sauteed langoustines with a salad of great greens, both with a sweetish dressing but a very tart kumquat much beloved by my photo-frenzied friends David and Julot, to squeeze on top.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then she had a thin slice of veal's liver with pickled onions, apples (harvested a few months ago) and mashies, pretty damn good - and I had Roscoff onions from Brittany (harvested in late summer - hummm) stuffed with minced ox tail, accompanied by a dish of absolutely first class rice with an intriguing sauce - jasmine maybe?

I tempted fate by having the Paris-Brest again, afraid that after yesterday's this would be a let-down, but no, it held up the standard high.

With a bottle of Bordeaux, two coffees, decent but not great bread and nice little cookies, our bill without bottled water was 92 E.

Go?  A must for those climbing the hill.

Sens Uniques: A live one in a dead zone.

7.0 Sens Uniques, 44 rue Damremont in the 18th, 01.42.23.04.63, open 7/7, opened in mid-October to near-silence from the gastronomarati, except for Ruben's 2 hearts and Toinard's two dots.  No ringing endorsements those.

Why?  The location - in the "No Man's Land" between lines 2, 12 and 13? (although within steps are Virginie's Cheese, Delmontel 's bread and Lahrer's pastries); the name - One Way Streets, Only in Sens, Bad Smells, Unique Flavors?; or that it followed in the wake of Le Winch, which soared and spectacularly crashed and burned and despite Parigi's incantations might not have been able to revise its feng shui, karma or curse?

In any case, the owner or owners have done a terrific job at refashioning it, while keeping its seafood orientation.  It's bright, light and they smite you with a tremendous unexpected warm welcome.

There's an incredible nearly-forced-choice formula at lunch, 15 E for 2 dishes, 17.50 E for three but

there's also a multiple choice 30/35 E menu which I chose.

My first consisted of 10 noix de petoncles (with their coral) cooked on a plancha with a delicate but slightly sweet/slightly sour sauce with spinach leaves around a round of crab bits, picked off the little buggers; inventive, complimentarily flavored, subtle and sublime.  Plus it was topped off with microscopically thin threads of beets.

Then I had their bourride, which one always orders with a degree of anxiety due to lower-level places' habit of tossing into it everything that didn't sell yesterday - but no, this was well thought out and had piece of mild fish (monkfish like), a pink salmon trout-type one - both offset by a piece of fierce haddock - as well as beautiful sliced wild mushrooms, carrots, bok choi (I swear) and broccoli.  At first, I dodn't like the etrille (crab) sauce but as I progressed, I really did; however the revisionist rouille/aoili never grew on me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now as I've been hinting, ancient recipes here are tweaked a bit, so when I ordered the Paris-Brest, I was on my toes for a twist.  And by golly, it was different, it was succulent, it was satisfying and as long as I know my cardiologist doesn't read my blog, I'll say it was probably bad for me.   On the other hand, what isn't?

My bill, with 2 glasses of superb Loire Sauvignon, quite acceptable bread and terrific coffee with fine madeleines, was 47.50 E.

Problems John?  Yah, the bottles in back of the bar were too carefully lined up, indicating extreme care for details; but now that I think of it, care for details was their hallmark from the welcome, to the menus, prices, products and goodbyes.

Go?  Laidback - hie thee here and see if I'm lying.

Le Jour de Fete in the 18th: Sometimes even Le Fooding can be Le Fooling.

2.0 Le Jour de Temps, 41 rue de Caulaincourt in the 18th, 01.77.18.04.23, closed Tuesdays and Wednesdays got a charming review in Le Fooding last week, so much so that I had no trouble convincing a food tour/cooking school/friend to accompany me.

We were seated at the primo table overlooking the bluff of Montmartre and it was indeed charming.

 

 

 

 

 

The first course of bonito mi-cuite was OK but lacked any character; the second of pintade was ahhh, OK but lacked any character; but the dessert of a Paris-Brest was superb, thus saving a tough day.  A nice touch was/were the sugar squares with holes in them, rather cool.

Our bill with a bottle and glass of wine, no bottled water and two coffees was 74 E.

Go?  This could hve been my neighborhood dive, but will not.

Le Petit Trianon in the 18th: American food for Americans.

 
4.0 Le Petit Trianon, 80, bvd de Rochechouart in the 18th, (in the Trianon Theater), 01.44.92.78.00, is open 7/7 from 8 AM til 2 AM serving breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as sandwiches and such between standard meal hours for 15 to 30 €.  The reviews have been mixed but I had to be a few blocks away (on an exciting possible apt. search) and it fit into my schedule perfectly.

The decor is simply scrumptious; wood-topped tables, red and green velvet-covered chairs, mirrors, posters and the whole deal.  The music went from Piaf to near-Rap and Sinatra to swing.

The "menu" at lunch is 13.50 E (dinner 16.50) for the entree and plat du jour or plat and dessert du jour - today, leeks vinaigrette, pork ribs and cherry clafoutis.  Looking at the other offerings, I seized at the "menu"; only rejecting M. Ospital's wonderful Basque charcuterie because I couldn't imagine it topping the Salumeria Rosi Parmacotto's 96 hours ago.

In any case, the leeks were wonderful; classic, proper and tart.

 

I truly regret that I cannot say the same about the pork ribs and/or tagliatelles; the pork tasted like yesterday's dessicated try at BBQ and the pasta was totally without character.  I returned both barely touched to the kitchen; no comment was made, no questions asked; strange!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My dessert was a creme brulee made with tart citron, which was OK but not stellar.

A positive was the street scene with a steady stream of visitors as well as scruffy locals blowing their cigarette smoke into the joint and an occasional totally stoned out stoner.  By the time I'd ordered coffee the restaurant was full of my friends from the lower 48 and as charming as the wait-folks' English was, I was outa there.

My bill with the "menu", dessert and a carafe of wine was 32 E.

Go?  My guess is that even Gene Kelly would go a few subways stops South given this fare; genuine setting, kinda poor chow.

Le Gabin in the 18th: a nifty local Montmartre place with undazzling grub.

4.0 Le Gabin, 25, rue Lambert in the 18th (Metro: Lamarck), 01 53 28 27 93, closed Mondays has a great location, great feel and of course

great name, that of Jean Gabin, whose photos and other memorabilia are scattered about and

 
great prices; at lunch two courses for 12 and three for 15 euros and at dinner two courses for 20 and three for 25 euros. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For firsts, my oldest French friend chose the potato salad with Touguet potatoes and I had the tartare of daurade with ginger and avocado - both quite nice but a bit assembly-line.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, she chose the lotte and I the scallops (4); both came with the exact same mixture of hot/cold vegetables, topped with hard cherry tomatoes; again alright but not terribly mind-boggling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For desserts she chose the moelleux of chocolate and I the pistachio creme brulee; both of which again were journey-man standard but noting more.

Our bill, with a bottle and glass of wine (glasses started at 4 and bottles at 22 E), pathetic bread and tap water was 60 E.

Go?  I see no need to unless you live near here and are stuck at home waiting for a workman (my sorry excuse).

LUI ... LINSOLENT in the 18th: Boy oh boy what a gem for the locals.

 
5.5 LUI ... LINSOLENT aka Lui... L'insolent, 15, rue Caulaincourt in the 18th, Metro: Clichy, 01.53.28.28.31, closed Sundays and Mondays opened, my genial host (part of the "charming couple" I always comment on, that runs the place) said, in 2007; but despite passing it dozens of time since then, it was only a few weeks ago that a new, highly-placed in the culinary world, friend (NHPCWF) asked if I'd been there; "Nope" responded meself. 

Well, backstory: I originally intended to go to another place, she (the NHPCWF) rec'd on the Mont because (it's a long story involving my transfering a hugggge stock of English books Colette had read to my oldest, same-age, continuously-seen, French friend (OSACSFF) in Paris, who still, despite the French imperative to stop work at 32, continues to teach English in a sensitive banlieu), I thought I could dump my library in her boot and we could walk up to the place.  But,... she got mugged at an ATM inside her bank by a marauder from the Eastern-most part of Europe, giving up 2000 E but not her Visa card.  So she was off seeking redress from the authorities and I considered that not a breach of friendship but good priority-setting.

In any case, I'm still saving the first place for her (the OSACSFF not the NHPCWF, although that's not a bad idea either) but went to LUI ... LINSOLENT aka Lui... L'insolent and am I glad I did.  I made a reservation 45 minutes before arriving, thinking, "this is ridiculous, the 18th, when are these places down from the Place du Terte, ever full?"  Tuesday noon, that's when, Johnnie Boy, they were tossing supplicants out on the sidewalk.

It looks funky, kicky and convivial as well as elbow-allowing, despite jamming 38 place settings into a relatively small space.  There were three tables of big bunches of folks - 5, 8 and 10, who unlike my country-folk didn't get the decibel level up to where one couldn't think - most civilized.  And NB: the clientele was/were all locals, French or French-speaking, altho' I swear the cadence of one guy was totally American, despite his flawless Frog-speak.

There's a big chalkboard, maybe 10 entrees, 12 plats and 8 desserts and a big wine list chalkboard - with "traditional" offerings - magret, tartare, foie gras, kidneys, lamb souris, scallops, cod, salmon, sole, cotes de boeuf, etc., and wines running from 22 E a bottle or 5 E a glass on up.  My kinnaplace.

I ordered a sabayon (huh?) of gambas and petonicles that turned out to be sugary-sweet - Whoa!  Who expected that?  Oooooh.  Oh, I know, traditional sabayon/zabaione/zabajone/zabaglione is sweet but names mean nothing these days, who knows what you'll get when you order a soup that has no juice or a meat that's all sauce.  But it was kinda good, indeed, once you got past the shock, astoundingly successful.

 
For my main, I had the veal kidneys in armagnac sauce; another incomplete description; again there was something different about the taste on top of wonderfully cooked and sourced rognons with some smashed potatoes with incongruously placed black whole peppercorns atop - inspired!  This fat guy, (and he is really overweight, so you better go soon), has some intriguing ideas.

Mein host, like my Mother, was reluctant to offer me dessert since I had not finished my potatoes, but I remonstrated and was delivered three small creme brulees - vanilla, chocolate and (damned if I could tell) lavender.

The bill with no bottled water, artisinal bread, coffee and a half-bottle of Cahors comes to 36.30 E - but, but, but....with the two-course "menu" at 13.80 and a 5 E glass of wine, one's back-packing relative could be out for 18.80 E and make it back to their Pigalle digs OK (the last time I stayed in a place near Pigalle in college it was replete with working girls and it was some sleepless night I'll tell yah.)

Go?  Not a destination, no great shakes, but if you live here, go here!  It'll never make the Slow Food Locavore Honor's List but hey, Ralph Nader doesn't fly Economy either.  (You think that's a non sequitur, hummm, I guess it is but I had to sneak it in somehow - the Man of the People flying Business Class - shocking!)