John Talbott's Paris

Tellus in the 2nd: Please do.

5.5 Tellus, 4, rue du Mail in the 2nd, 01 40 20 40 04, closed weekends has a bargain forced-choice menu at lunch for 15, costs about 30 a la carte, but Francois Simon paid about 50 € pp with wine without desserts or water or coffee.  I went with two of my favorite friends who, like Colette and I or is it me?, have a long-distance relationship, but we always try to meet up here.

Two of us started with the rabbit rillettes (without fat it said) - quite good - while two of us had the cocotte of ecrivisses and mushies with a terrific sauce that both of us wiped clean to the waitperson's delight with the quite nice bread.

Then one of us had the flying thing, what was it?  looked like a chicken, but wasn't.  Anyway, the other two of us had the civet of sanglier with oldtime veggies (super).

We did have dessert: again two had the same thing, the moelleux which was OK and the odd man out, had the brioche with chopped apples or pears (I never got to sample it).

The bill: I dunno, my one (oldest) pal insists he owes me til eternity for some small kindnesses I paid him in the 1990's and refused to even discuss splitting the check.  But the approximate costs can be figured out from the above.

Go?  Well, as Simon sez, there's nothing transcendent, nothing unforgettable, but it's honest well-done food, to which I add that if I worked near there I'd take advantage of.

 PS The feeble attempt at humor in my title (Tellus, please do) was a response to my ignorance at what Tellus means/meant - and I clean forgot to ask them.

The French Paradox: Chapter 2*: Frenchie in the 2nd too.

OK, Sunday in the JDD, Herve Guenot published an article on the "paradoxe tenu," saying that the number of unemployed under 25 in the Ile de France rose 31.2% last year while French eating establishments lacked 15,000 employees, despite the fact that Paris is the #1 tourist destination in the world, generating 14.3 millions of Euros. 

He gives the usual explanations: from the owners: there's a lack of professionalism, chewing gum while taking orders, not saying "Bonjour," but also from the applicants, that there's no future and there's no preparation between school and work environments.

 

In any case, this is a long-winded way of winding into my 3rd meal at Frenchie, where three of us had simple, inexpensive but quite fine food.

Firsts were a zippy gazpacho of cherries and a salade of melon with mache and bourtague (fish roe) - just fine.

Then my two lady companions had the salmon (that Colette deemed overcooked, but I thought was perfect and I usually like fish and meat more raw than she) and I had the lamb ragout on too many gnocchi for my diet.

We terminated with a cheese plate and two very delicious plates of fruit surrounded by what was essentially an uncooked creme brulee.

Our bill for three, with one bottle of exceptional Cotes du Rhone (disclosure: they did comp us to a bit more) and 3 coffees was 85.90 Euros.  Thus per couple it's 57 Euros.  Barely believable and I say in 1 year, he'll be in a new place with up to 60 covers charging 40 Euros.  Pretty fair I say.

The point Dad, you were saying about the French Paradox II?  Ah yes. The Chef needs help in the cuisine and the salle to adequately serve his absolutely full place; today again, he was turning folks away.

*The French Paradox I is of course (source Wikipedia) the observation that "the French suffer a relatively low incidence of coronary heart disease, despite having a diet relatively rich in saturated fats."

A new degustation menu at Passage 53 in the 2nd.

 

This was my second visit to Passage 53 and I was greeted like a long-lost friend (apparently my report of the first visit was well-received).  Our host mentioned that they now had a degustation menu at lunch for 45 Euros (at night it's 60) and strongly encouraged it.

We had it with great pleasure. 

The first dish was a generous dollop of pureed broccoli, thickened with a puree of white beans topped with the tiniest dusting of uncooked broccoli fleurettes; the second was a tartare of pink veal on top of diced, cold oysters (that my invaluable eG France Forum co-host had last time); third, an incredible piece of cooked foie gras with a few fraises de bois and a sauce of rhubarb; all terrific.

The mains consisted of a slice of wild turbot (pictured above) with marinated squash, a micro-turnip and blend of various colored choufleurs that became a beautiful lavender puree; and a perfectly cooked pintade with Noirmoutier potatoes, baby girolles, round green beans sliced thin and a delicious citrus sauce.

Finally we had rhubarb three ways: on the bottom was a jelly, then cooked rhurbarb and then a topping of crunchy raw diced stalks.  (Disclosure: two glasses of bubbly were offered with the dessert).

With a bottle of excellent Chablis and 2 Illy coffees as well as a Zen offering of two cherries, our bill was 148 Euros.

PS  Nothing wrong John?: Well, the exceptionally low chairs and banquette (featured throughout the resto) were most uncomfortable. Colette used her furled umbrella as a 'cushion' in the small of her back on the banquette.  The wine prices seem to have soared since my initial visit; our Chablis was double the price of the fine wine I had on my last visit; surely there is a very compatible wine for about half that somewhere in Paris.

 

Frenchie in the 2nd: again a simply wonderful experience.

 

Frenchie, the improbably named resto, with the impressively changing menu and impossibly low prices, sited on an incredibly tiny, unknown street, is a true gem.  Richard Hesse of Paris Update, reports that it's now impossible to"walk in," at night and I'm here to report that that goes for lunch as well.

Four of us went yesterday and despite the limited choices - 2/2/2 - for great food and 19 E, who's complaining.

The firsts were a "salad" of watermelon and pignola nuts and an offsetting acidic dressing and a selection of antipasti, that given the temperature, were largely vegetables.  All delicious.

The mains consisted of sea trout with a great zippy horseradish sauce and a risotto with a ragout of lamp, eqyally tasty.

For dessert we all shared two cheese platters- Forme d'Ambert, Brie de Meaux, St Nectaire and a chevre.

With a carafe of Muscadet, bottle of Cotes de Rhone, 2 coffees and a small Badoit = 57.55 E per couple.

Keep on trucking Gregory!

Cultural differences I – US and France

While there have been whole books written about cultural differences, most of my bicontinental friends regard them with scorn. It’s all too easy to mistake bustling brasserie waiters as brusque deliverers of food and long pauses after finishing dessert and coffee as inattentive service lapses but in this and succeeding essays, I’ll try to single out some of the things that strike me as interestingly different rather than misperceived attitudes.

Most striking to me now, much more than 30 or 50 years ago, is the growing gap between portion sizes in our two countries. Just compare the size of soft drink bottles in the US (16, 32 and 64 ounces) with the cans in France (11 ounces). Whenever I return from Europe to the States and eat out, I have to remind myself that an appetizer in America is the size of a main course in France and a main course in the US is enough for two persons.

And then there’s the number of courses. I recall when I encountered two American contract oil guys who were spending the night in Paris en route from the Middle East to the US and were advised by their hotel to go to Goumard. They sat down, looked at the (prix fixe) menu and insisted that they only wanted one dish, the fish, even though warned by the waiter (in excellent English) that it would not be large and was part of a multi-course meal that included (at that time) an amuse gueule, a first, a main, cheese, dessert, coffee, mignardises, wine and bottled water. “No, just the fish and a Coca Cola,” they insisted. Of course, the moment it appeared they felt gypped and groused throughout the meal.

And then there’s the matter of your table being just that, your table. I recall one night at the quirky resto on the Seine, La Timonerie, run by the quirky Philippe Givenchy (I wonder whatever happened to him?), anyway, we were chatting him up at the end and mentioned the number of seatings and covers done by famous New York restaurateurs at the time and he was appalled and astonished. As another chef put it to me when I said how sorry I was to be 15 minutes late for my reservation, “it’s never a problem - it’s your table.” No rush to get you served and shoved out the door for the next horde, sit back and relax. As a student trying to husband my resources, I was always amused to see how long other book-reading young customers could nurse an espresso, Perrier or lemonade. I guess one sees it at Starbucks in the US today but not much elsewhere.

There’s no more stark difference in service in the US and France, though, than the attitude toward clearing the table. In the US if one of say four diners finishes first, whoosh, the plate is whisked away as if the sight of an empty plate is an anathema whereas in France such a gaucherie is never even contemplated.

While the times they are a changing, waitfolk in France are still largely professionals, not out-of-work actors or failed poets. But I’ve been amused more recently to encounter some wait-staff in France who almost fit the American mold. Once, for instance, at the late lamented Pactole, the colorful proprietress, Nedra Gara, apologized for the fact that none of her waitstaff had shown up and pressed her femme de menage into service. While she must have served the family food every day, handling menus and taking orders was a new experience. And my good buddy, the RFC, had to show a new recruit at Gilles Choukroun’s Café Very how to operate a tire bouchon. But these are rare exceptions.

One thing that drives me crazy in the US is the habit of snotty places insisting that everyone be inside the place before you can be seated, even if the designated driver is searching for a parking space, whereas in France, it’s always assumed that you wish to sit, take the weight off your feet, perhaps have an apero or at least a glass of cool water and wait in peace rather than elbow-check at the bar. That cool water, though, that in the 1950’s used to be kept cool in clay jugs, is now under the influence of American over-excess, chilled to the freezing point by ice and refrigerators.

And let’s circle back to rudeness, the first thing French-hating tourists comment on. “The waiters were so rude,” “they didn’t introduce themselves, touch us, translate everything on the menu into flawless English or call us honey.” I have oft said that in over 50 years, I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve been treated “rudely,” and excepting bored Department store staff, all have been non-French folk whom I assume read too many American detective stories.

The one cultural difference that I fear is eroding that I bemoan is the homogenization or equalization of rituals, traditions and established ways of “doing things.” I like it that the tables are set with glasses and silverware even though it/they may have to be removed/replaced; I like it that the dishes arrive in their proscribed order (salad, cheese and coffee coming at the end not the beginning of the meal;) and I like it that crumbs are swept off when the bread disappears. Saying “Bonjour, ca va, impeccable and au voir” is perhaps regimented but then, I’m old-fashioned, old-school and old-boy and there’s something very genuine about cultural differences in food and eating and service and something very phony about the globalization of everything.

These thoughts were prompted by my thinking back to the way things are done at:
Frenchie
5, rue du Nil, 2nd, (Metro: Sentier)
T:01 40 39 96 19
Closed Sundays, Mondays and Tuesday lunch
Menus: lunch 16 for 2 dishes and 19 € for three - dinner 27 or 33 €.

Issé in the 2nd; The second coming of who? I don’t think so.

 

4.0 Issé, 45, rue de Richelieu in the 2nd, 01.42.96.26.60, closed Sundays and Mondays, is a place all the critics have been falling all over themselves about, calling it the nouvelle cuisine Japonaise.

Well, so, I went with probably excess expectations of really neat, new stuff not seen in Japan, San Fran or NY. The place is impressive and big, stark and has some very noteworthy features – ie stones on the floor of the loo – how do they clean the….. (stop it John).

With my bad knee, connected to my bad ankle, connected to my bad heel, of course they seated me limpingly in the dank basement where the music blared incessantly – only American songs – if I’d heard “These boots are made for walking” or “I’ll be there” one more time I swear I would have screamed.

While there’s a 12-14 piece carte, one does tend to go toward the bento with Lord knows how many ingredients, all tastingly described, in order to sample the genius of this guy.

I started with the tempuras of artichoke and other veggies, ok, then the salmon, ok, then the grilled eel, wait a minute, this should be neck-snapping and it’s only ok, and on and on.

Except for the “spaghettis” of agar-agar and shaved radish, I could do as well or better even in Baltimore. And, and, and, the confit de canard was disgraceful; banal, huge and no better than at the “traditional French” resto next door.

They were out of all the “interestingly priced” wines, but glasses were only 7 € (sputter) but the desserts were a level above; a “cheesecake” and crème of what seemed to me to be white chocolate. But one doesn’t come to a Japanese restaurant for cheesecake.

The bill with the bento and 2 glasses of wine but no bottled water or coffee was 39 €. 

Go? Occasionally the big boys, when they haven’t been outside Paris for a while, fall in love with a chimera.

Le Bistro Volnay in the 2nd: Fine for businessmen but just not exciting.

 

5.0 Le Bistro Volnay [sic], 8, rue Volney [sic] in the 2nd, 01.42.61.06.65, closed weekends, was described as an old place chef’d by a new guy who comes from Chez Michel (of course, you never know at what level or for how long) but it sounded interesting enough to try with an old friend, indeed my oldest continuous French friend.

I approached the place with trepidation, whoa,.... next to the Park Hyatt, fancy entry, all suits and ties and all men, most (around us) speaking English, an imposing menu, with hefty supplements for anything not on the “menu.” The waitladies were described by Philippe Toinard enticingly and they were indeed most welcoming.

There is a 24 € 3 course meal to be had at the counter that my pal briefly considered but we had a lot of catching up to do that such seating would make talking awkward. So we both had the 3 course lunch menu at 38 €.

She started with razor clams in butter and I with a fine salmon tartare with a great assortment of fresh herbs on top.

Then she had lamb chops that were not really as tasty as they should be at this time of year and I had a veal stew with spring veggies in a cocotte that was good but not great either.

She had a clafoutis of apples, quite unusual and good and I an equally good chocolate cake, both with ices that were OK.

Our bill with 2 Illy coffees, a bottle of wine and no bottled water was 98 €.

Go? After the other places I’ve been hitting this year, I really cannot recommend you rush to it. There was nothing wrong, just nothing really great.

Passage 53: Another next great thing?

 

6.8 Passage 53, 53 Passage des Panoramas in the 2nd, 01 42 33 04 35, closed Sundays, a la carte 38-44 €, serves what Alexandre Cammas of Le Fooding called “half-terroir, half-Japanesy food.” Well, 50% of the staff is Asian and the raw fish is certainly sushi-grade but it could pass for French too.

I went today with my closest food pal who has an unerring eye for the good stuff and she loved it (I did too). The menu on weekdays at lunch consisted (at least yesterday) of many of the things we were offered today for firsts and desserts but the one main was a breast of Bresse chicken (at 19 € I’d certainly go for it).

Off the carte, she ordered two starters; the first, a pea soup that I found less interesting than that at Frenchie but her “signature” veal tartare on a bed of chopped chilled oysters and chives was nickel.

Meanwhile I had the best carpaccio of daurade ever, with a touch of oil, baby tomatoes, teeny halved artichokes and chives, followed by pigeon, very undercooked and also of the highest quality.

We split the cheese/dessert course; the comte and goat with mango confiture were as was/were superb and the pannacotta with litchi and bay (yes bay) as well.

With a bottle of Cahors, 2 Illy coffees and no bottled water our bill was 103.60 €.

Go? Most assuredly, except for the goofy chairs (hey, they call it a restaurant/lounge) it was flawless.

Frenchie [sic]: This year’s Ze, Spring, Afaria, Bigarrade?; Maybe.

 

7.0 Frenchie, 5, rue du Nil in the 2nd, 01 40 39 96 19, closed Sundays, Mondays and Tuesday lunch, is chef’d by an ex-Jamie Oliver, ex-New York but very French guy and serves only “menus,” which are product-driven, market-available, at lunch it’s 16 for 2 dishes and 19 € for three - dinner menus for 27 or 33 €.

 

We chose the pea soup (with a zing) and heirloom tomatoes which were – isn’t there a synonym for terrific?

 

Then we both had the deconstructed paleron of beef on a bed of fab carrots.

 

I ordered the pannacotta with strawberries and rhubarb and ? candied ginger crisps; simply the best dessert in years.

 

With three coffees and a bottle of their cheapest, no bottled water, the bill was 62.40 €, I jest not. 

 

Go? Am I speaking Urdu or what?

Cafe Moderne: definately better but not yet cured.

 

5.0 Cafe Moderne, 40 rue Notre Dame des Victoires, 2nd,01 53 40 84 10, closed Saturday noon and Sunday, menu at 30 E, a la carte 35-45, has gone through yet another transition, this by the team at Astier, importing a chef from the Crillon from the Dominique Bouchet era.  The interior, which always struck me as box-car modern, remains stunning:

 

This remains very much a businessman's place and was full, except for one table for six which I assume they were holding for a group.

The menu was not much different in price from the carte and features three starters (rougets, petit-gris, duck and pintade) and one plat (today a tendron of veal).  I liked the sound of it.

The rougets were just about the best I've ever had, fresh and beautifully sauteed in olive oil and somewhat complemented with sweet peppers and guacamole [true].  I was all set for a great meal, especially when the glass of 7 E St Emilion was so nice.

But the tendron of veal, while most ample, somehow wasn't what I wanted/needed; I know that's unfair, it's like criticizing someone for not writing the book you wanted.  But this was simply not like I like it - braised with a thick black red wine sauce - but instead sat atop chopped green and red cabbage with baby carrotson top of it.  And it didn't really have any kind of knock-out flavor, no matter salt and which accompaniments one used.

BTW - the service was mezzo-mezzo; fantastically friendly, extremely eager but dismayingly disorganized.  Oh, and the bread was not up to what their standards should be.

With another glass of that fine St Emilion (BTW they have about 50 wines selected by 5 folks, running from 25-80 E), a coffee, no bottled water or dessert, my bill was 47.50E.

Go again?  It's a cursed space and I wish him/them well, but with all the other options, I suspect not.