John Talbott's Paris

Le Sergent Recruter in the 4th: It deserves its star altho' the price-quality can be questioned.

8.0 Le Sergent Recruter, 41 rue St-Louis-en-l'ile in the 4th (Metro: Pont Marie), 01.43.54.75.42, closed Sundays and Mondays has been around several months and in the meantime garnered a Michelin star (while Spring still, yet, again, has not), was Pudlo's Revelation of the Year - but also caught some flak from some reviewers.  A friend and I were celebrating our individual triumphs (I had been invited as a Delegate to an OECD Symposium) and we decided to order the ghastly priced menu degustation (at 95 E) "to celebrate and test the kitchen" over the 3-course menu of the market (65 E).  It's the same old place you've walked by time after time but now has these cool but confusing mirrors; and hardly were we seated than one of the legion of wait-people enquired about drink - so straight to the wine (the wines BTW are priced over a spectrum, not the usual star-gazing prices.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First off we were served amuse bouches of sweetbreads and a very light mustard and a soup of carrot and organge; then not too assertive slices of mackerel from the ile d'Yeu, wild black radishes and goat cheese driblets (and dill); and then urchins with a celery puree/cream.  All were inventive and different and offset by the herbs served with, around and in them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then came one of the best product seared scallops of my life with a carrot puree and a simply lovely bouillion/sauce; razor clams atop green al dente asparagus; and a nice piece of daurade with cauliflower heart.  Again, inventive, refreshing and interesting.

Intermission: Before my dining pal came in, one of the wait-folk hauled a huge standing rib beef hunk to one of the front tables and now another took this great looking black-footed Challans chicken up front too.  Ok back to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At this point we were served our fowl, a pigeon with beet root and pomegrante seeds; a slice of very perfectly excellant (is that enough superlatives?) affinated Salers; and the desserts - a grapefruit sorbet with grapefruit slices (I photo'd it on its plate made by a Japanese artist living in the UK) and one of slices of pear, green coffee ice cream, Jeruselem artichoke and little brownies cubes.  Boy!  Wow!  Hey!  But the meal was not over.

With coffee came the obligatory mignardises, but they aren't always obligatorily good and these were special.

The bill, Oy!, but I knew it - with superb bread and their own butter made in house, no bottled water (my friend held herself back) a bottle and glass (for the cheese) of wine and two coffees it was 120 E - a couple John?  Ah no, a person.

Go?  I would encourage it; next month I'll take Colette here for her birthday, convincing her she's earned it after 52 years of putting up with me, even if we have to have the 65 E menu to satify her Puritan purse.  And BTW, after suffering through Chabanel's ex-South African meal yesterday, it was a pleasant surprise to taste this one by a guy (Antonin Bonnet) and his team who worked at a London joint - Greenhouse - for quite a while. 

 

Le Gorille Blanc in the 4th: New address, new chef, new look.

5.4 Le Gorille Blanc, 4, impasse Guemenee in the 4th, 01.42.72.03.45, closed Sundays, moved from the 7th over to this (old) Les Cotelettes space with a new look and new chef; it's gotten mixed reviews with Toinard finding his pork chop too dry but Fuffy's review on Chowhound in September came to me when I needed to find a place near my old friend's cabinet in the Marais.

Now, how many places can you eat at that say this?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The specials looked great today but the whole carte was equally impressive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The grilled mackerel with shredded beets and raifort was fine; I'm not sure the beets added anything and I couldn't taste the horseradish, but it was an interesting combo.  Then we both had the civet de biche with cepes and while I found the biche too dry, game are forever running, right? so they never develop fat, but the cepes saved the preparation.  Finally, after much deliberation we split a croustade ariegeoise with prunes  and apples; it's a light pastry specialty of the Couserans region and was the high point of the meal.

With a bottle of Madiran, no bottled water and two coffees, the bill was 92 E.

Go?  I'd like to hear more positive feedback before I take Colette.  But it's way better than it was in November 2005 when I rated the former chef a 3/10.

Le Cafe La Tour du Temple in the 4th (gasp!): An astonishing find, good price-quality and it's good once in a while to test out one's rating scale by eating at average, mediocre and awful places.

5.2 Le Cafe La Tour du Temple, 160 bis rue du Temple in the 4th, 01.42.72.13.44, open 7/7 (Metro: Temple or Republique) is a café aveyronnais, evidently here since 1970, described on Paris.com as a "popular address" which has food at "good values."  There is a very long back story to how I found myself here which if you hate long, rambling, senseless, apologetic back-stories, you should skip.

Back-story.  #1 on my famous "list" of places to go was "L'Ilot" at 4, rue de la Corderie, a seafood joint that got a very pleasant review Tuesday in/on Le Fooding which said it was open Sunday for lunch.  Me, being paranoid, called, recording says clearly open Saturday and Sunday noon to 4 and we don't take reservations, you cannot leave a message - so take that! (no I made that last bit up).  I go, it's closed, how do I find a place for a Sunday lunch where I've never eater before?  I had 2 bakups but they were far away.  Do what I always tell people not to do - look around?  Yup.  So I walk around and between the Place de la Republique and the Carreau du Temple there are maybe 15 places for open Sunday lunch, but once you discard Indiana, Italian pizzerias and ice cream shops, you have not much left until, until, until you chance onto the Cafe La Tour du Temple.  Brunch - yuck!

But hark, the ardoise beckons and looks not bad.  "Petit question" "what is Camenbert [sic] a Mimi?"  Answer: Mimi, waving to the bald guy standing on the edge of the California kitchen, "he's the chef, it's his hot concoction."   OK.

Place is pretty spiffy, indeed cool, with a mix of locals and a few non-American visitors.

I decide to play DEEfense, definitely.  The tartare of tomatoes, avocado and crevettes arrives - crevettes taste fresh, not-thawed, tomato not hot house, avocado real - really tasty.  Gloria Gaynor has nothing on me.

Filet of loup (bass) arrives, top looks and tastes hard, fish is fresh but kinda white bland, huh?  But put the girolles in a thick black sauce on it and it comes alive.  Rice not bad, not bad at all.  Salad and tomato cut artfully - OK.

OK, John, so far Mimi has far outdone almost any other chef in the 4th - push him on dessert?  Nah, he's no pastry chef, chicken out and order a boule of artisinal caramel beurre sale - delicious.

Bread and coffee are pathetic but the Cotes du Rhone is wonderful.

Bill, with all that, is 34.60 E.

Go?  If L'Ilot is closed unexpectedly, if you have a fainting attack in front of the place or if your backpack is just too heavy to go another step, most definitely, but to go more than a block to eat here/there, I wouldn't recommend; even though it was "pas mal", "not bad at all."

Le Dome du Marais: Still a beautiful setting with less stunning food.

5.2 Le Dome du Marais, 53bis, rue des Francs-Bourgeois in the 4th, 01.42.74.54.17, open 7/7, is a place I remember eating at under its prior chef and management many years ago; I was stunned by the setting and fresh, locavore product theme. 

Well, it's still stunning, but the food while good, is not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The amuse-gueule was a nice enough bit of avocado/guacamole, Madame's "frozen" pea soup (she being French got the English carte and I got the French one) was nice and my tartare of daurade with ginger and lime was, ahhh, nice.  So far no fireworks.

At about this point, a former writer colleague sitting at the next table sent me her card and in due time we chit-chatted with her and the publicity-marketing person, all very nice, no really, but the main courses took forever to arrive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Madame had ordered the beef tartare lok lak (which I'd never heard of but our nice wait-person explained had an Asiatic twist; indeed, lok lac is a (cooked) Cambodian beef with soy, garlic and oyster sauce, but my well-traveled friend said she also tasted cardamon) and I had a St Pierre with veggies and potatoes with lardon bits and a side of celery puree.  All quite, well, nice.

I skipped dessert but she had the cafe gourmand where the brownie was the best part and I a plain coffee.

With a bottle of Chinon, another glass of house red, good bread and no bottled water, our bill should have been 109.50 E but they made an "error" and charged us for yet another glass of wine - I don't know whether to be angrier at myself for not really inspecting the bill or them for sloppiness, greed or immaturity.

Go?  I'm afraid that despite the stunning decor and setting (although the chairs in the anteroom were unsittable-in), the price-quality, lack of pizzaz, long wait and over-charging over-ride whatever scenery there is.

Le Brasserie de l'Isle/ile St. Louis: Founded in 1953 and stayed the course.

5.5 Le Brasserie de l'Isle/ile St. Louis, 55, quai de Bourbon in the 4th (Metro: Cite or Pont-Marie), 01.43.54.02.59, closed Wednesdays, is a place you've been been by time out of mind, remember, at the point of the Island facing Notre Dame, the place with thousands of fellow travelers around it and in it.  Sure you do, and so do I, from 1953, when it first opened and I first went by it, dewy-eyed and awe-struck.

So how did I and Paris' hottest chef find ourselves there on a blustery Sunday noon.  Well, (1) It was Sunday noon, (2) All my comrades-in-arms had been invited by their new P.R. folks so I knew something was "up" and (3) It was Sunday noon.  Now, I'm not sure I went in, in 1953 but I guarantee you, if I had, it would have looked exactly the same: checkered napkins, bustling waiters in black and whites and the noble front-room host in a suit and tie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The menu is classic 1953 brasserie stuff, except for no oysters; I won't repeat it, but it had all the Golden Oldies. So sit back and let the good times roll.  My eating partner had the leeks and I had the salad frisee with lardons, that I first had in 1953 I think for the first time at Aux Lyonnais - they were both just fine, but mine was Julot-sized and I gave up after 80%.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then he pulled back from the liver English style thinking it might have a dusting of flour which would put him in a very bad humor, indeed, and went with the entrecote while I went full blast with the cassoulet which was the equivalent of those at the old/original Auberge Pyrenees-Cevennes, which was also a Les Pinceau portion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For desserts; he had the Berthillon ices while I carried on with the classics; a millefeuille.

With a bottle of their fine wine of the month, two coffees and no bottled water, our bill was 104.80 E.

Go?  If you want classic stuff, midst all the French folk let out of their retirement homes and all the folks clutching dictionaries in many languages and don't mind "Turkish" toilets, by all means - it's fun, as good as 1953 gets and reasonable enough.

Le Gaigne in the 4th: the old Alain Passard (salt) problem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Le Gaigne, in the 4th, is a place we go back to time after time and have never found any fault (until today, but more about that later).  We were warmly welcomed, as always, by Aurélie Gaignon and had a splendid veloute of radish-top greens, a clever terrine of all sorts of veal (liver, kidneys, etc.) and some Pic Saint Loup.  Also let me apologize for the sh**ty pix, a result of low lighting, shaky hands and others "helping" me out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains M. Paga had the pintade which was just fine but the ladies scallops and my St Pierre were over-salted and that really took the bloom off the rose unfortunately.  I explained same to Madame and she graciously offered me a new main but I really didn't want/need one and so she supplied our later coffees without charge.


Desserts for the ladies comprised a moelleux and a lemon tart both of which were quite good.

The bill, with two bottles of wine, no bottled water and the 4 coffees offered, was 194 E, or 97 E a couple.

Go?  I'd say yes.  After I got home I refreshed myself with the provenance of chef Mickaël Gaignon and saw that while he had passed through the Houses of Gagnaire and Anton he was never trained by Passard to lay on the salt so maybe this was a "one of" [sic].

Le Petit Marcel; Pretty good Metro food for Metro food.

5.0 Le Petit Marcel, 65, rue Rambuteau, barely in the 4th, 01.48.87.10.20, open 7/7, is a place you and I have passed thousands of times and never "seen."  It looks like a thousand other fungible decked-out-in-red places that call themselves brasseries/bistros/bistros a vin/cafe's etc.  It was on my "list" because of something new - a new chef, a new owner, a new awning, cash register, bannister, I don't recall.

I had to go to Geneva from the Gare de Lyon on a Saturday and I’d wanted to eat with two of my best new friends; one of whom was imprisoned in a French language program that tied him up weekdays at lunch but who responded to my first suggestion with an email saying “is this a John Talbott quality place?”  “Come up with something better”, I said, ‘that is accessible to the GdL, open on Saturday and I have never been to.  Silence.

So it was that we found ourselves at the Petit Marcel.  The menu/carte at 15.90 E for two dishes on the blackboard was fine for me and they.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two of us started with the eggs and chevre while I struggled with the classic escargots (a safe bet huh?).  Both were better than average, indeed pretty good for a place totally full of tourists, albeit all Francophones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, J. was the "odd man out” choosing a pathetic lasagna, dangerous to order in any country except Italy, exception made for Colette’s version of Ed Giobbi's; and the other two of us had the (again safe to order) confit de canard with fine fried chunky potatoes. 

They both recused themselves from dessert, pleading a slow recovery from a heavy dinner the night before but I went ahead with the tart tatin flambee, once again, a safe bet – and indeed it was and good.

Our bill, with 46 cl of red, soft drinks, coffees and pathetic bread was 82.40 E; thus 55 E a couple.

Go?  Wad’d’ya’expect for 15.90 E?  Pierre Gagnaire?  Best prix/qualité of the year.

Pamelo Popo in the 4th: Surprisingly good (now why do I say surprising*?)

5.7 Pamela Popo, named after yet another Serge Gainsbourg song, my that guy lives on, is at 15 rue Francois Miron in the 4th, 01.42.74.14.65, (Metro: St Paul) and is another place that keeps popping up time after time on various food critics' radars and keeps seeming unreachable on my "list."   However, it's open 7/7 and I figured that when two other restos turned me down on the Halloween/All Saints/All Souls week of vacation for all the world save me and I'd promised my old pal V. aka Pierre45 I'd find a place for him and his two acquaintances who "wanted to meet me" it fit the bill.

One of the reviews I read described its decor as very New York lounge-ish; where these French guys get their ideas about what's New York-y escapes me; it's at best like a Chicago whorehouse waiting room (as I imagine them) with piped in awful loud American jazz-type music.

Both of us went with the raviolis stuffed with langoustines in a creamy cepes sauce with shaved carrots and green, was it cuke skin, on top?  Delicious.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then he had the navarin of lamb with potatoes which was quite good despite the fact that the wait-guy told me it was this year's lamb not 4-y.o. mutton (to which all I can reply is "Sheep lie") and I had another starter, the sauteed foie gras that walked that fine line between slightly sweet and treacly, and by me, was just what I needed on a nasty, rainy day in November.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then my friend had the crumble of red fruits (which despite my dislike of crumbles, I found quite good) and I had a vanilla creme brulee that was OK, no more.

With a bottle and glass of wine, no bottled water, quite acceptable bread and one OK coffee, our bill was 86 E (you can figure on 26-40 E a la carte when not there normal weekdays for their 17 E lunch "menu.")

* Now, Buster, explain "Surprisingly good"?  OK.  First off, the 4th is a culinary desert save Colliot and Le Gaigne (I don't count l'Ambrosie and Benoit as serious restaurants for the populi.)  And second, Sundays and Holy Days, all bets are off.  So to find a place like this here, today, is an unexpected treat.

Anything wrong?  Yah, my pal insisted I put I my review that the wine list was perilously tilted toward the unthinkably priced.  And whatever happened to those two fans of mine?

Go?  You bet.

Metropolitan in the 4th: I wish these chef show contestants the best of luck but.....

3.5 Metropolitan, 8, rue de Jouy in the 4th, 09.81.20.37.38, closed weekends, has a 3-course "menu" for 22 E and interesting-sounding items; it's chef'd by a close runner up on Top Chef who was 23 when he competed in it.  Not that it's important but I recall taking my then-3-year old grandchild to the address (then Chiaro di Luna) when she lived with us 12 years ago and it was terrific; then apparently it became a cyber cafe, and since spring, Metropolitan.

The wine list and one wall are decorated in a Metro-type way which is really cute.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went with two blogger-buddies and think their take on things was probably more positive than mine, since I was in a dreadful funk made worse by not being able to hear them or the waitress in part because of the Saturne-level din.  One of us had the maki de salmon fume aux legumes croquants, which were better than OK, but two of us had the creme brulee of girolles - really a girolle mousse with a layer of carmelized sugar atop - which my side mate said was too much of one texture and I said was too much period. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The one of us having the "menu' had a blindingly white breast of chicken on a schmear of mashies, another had (the winner by me) a fricassee of mussels and girolles and cleverly carved piece of potato and I had duck two ways with a poached fig that I could not finish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ladies were kind enough to share their desserts with me - a chocolate moussy-thing on a praline crust with a iced ball of sweet barbe de papa and a tiramisu with Nutella and banana - the latter with that same texture issue.

Our bill, complicated, but with 1/2 a bottle of wine for me and two coffees but no bottled water it was 97 E, thus 64 E a couple.

Go?  Maybe if you're not in a funk and wearing hearing aids or Bose noise-blockers, but otherwise nah.

Claude Colliot in the 4th: The (continuing, astonishing) incredible lightness of being.

I'm paling around with friends who live downstairs this month and the male of the couple was impressed by Francois Simon's recent Croque Notes in which he noted that the number of covers the night he went to Colliot did not reflect the high regard in which he holds M. Colliot and his food (I'm happy to say that in talking the chef after our meal, he says that's been somewhat ameliorated.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We all inspected the three menus carefully; discarded the forced choice but very reasonable (cauliflower soup, encornets & not-terribly-attractive sounding dessert) looked hard at the chef's specials as well as the menu-carte items (less pricey.)  And as usual for us, we went our diverse ways.

Madame had the scallops with a butternut puree and microtimed root veggies (off the menu-carte) which M. and I had predicted would be 90% squash, 5% scallops and 5% racines - wrong, liberal doses of both the latter.  M. had the plat du jour, the encornets, which were tender not soggy, crisp not rubbery and tasty not thawed 10 minutes ago.  And I had (from the chef's specials) a crelice (a fancy word for whipped foie gras) of foie gras with microtomed Paris (actually Ile de France) mushrooms and a moka blob.  All delicate and delicious, but I can see if someone comes in expecting gutsy bistro food from 1950, they'd be disappointed.)

 

 

 

 

 

For mains M. chose the pigeon which he and I thought was about the best ever, Mme had a nice piece of crispy-skinned mulet noir (which my fish dictionery says is mugil cephalus, the same as stripped or grey mullet) and I had a crispy outside, moisty inside hunk of sweetbreads with a mango (was it?) chutney.  All came with: (1) microtomed root veggies, (2) potatoes topped with potato fluff and (3) a bowl of something else (pumpkin soup, carrots or marinated rooties).  Again, all very good.

While these may all look like small plates, we were quite satisfied and with three coffees, settled up.

Our bill, with a bottle and a glass of wine, no bottled water or dessert and just so-so bread, was 168.50 E for three, ergo 112.34 E a couple.