John Talbott's Paris

Les Philosophes in the 4th: Well, not a winner, but under the circumstances, not a loser either.

My backstory and sorry excuse.  Ok, I suggested to my longest known friend in Paris, 1953, ok, that we go to Les Philosophes around the block from her home and office.  "Oh, she said, my last meal there was awful, what made you want to go?"  "Humm, I forget, someone told me about it".  "Ok, I said, let's go another place, x."  So I show up at what I think is x, but the whole street is shuttered and I limp over to a busy cross street and look for bistros that look interesting.  Nada. My iPhone, empty of ideas.  So I sit at a bus stop and think, I'll go back to my original suggestion, and by then I'd found a little slip of paper that read "Xavier Denamur, Les Philosophes, etc." written by two of my loyal readers whom l'd lunched with not so long ago.  I show up and enter looking bewildered, the place is packed and outside is Artic, "Mr Talbott, the table in the corner," Holy Cow, how did he know?  "Who made the res?"  Buddha perhaps.

 

5.5 Les Philosophes, 28, rue Vieille du Temple in the 4th, 01.48.87.49.64, open 7/7 (Metro: ) is what Americans, and perhaps all visitors to Paris think French bistros in the 1930's (think Casablanca) were like; hustle and bustle, hard to talk, huge menus and cheap pichets of wine.  This is it.  I have plenty of time to look over the menus and carte but cannot see today'ss specials (humm, maybe my ophthalmologist is right and I should get regular not reading glasses).  My old friend enters.  We look, we consult.  

She decides on a first of asparagus but what arrives is a bed of purée of petit pois with lampposts of asparagus and olives stuck in, which several of the folks around us think is their order.  We have a great old conversation among the 6 of us and finally she does get this nouvelle Cuisine version, but so does every else.  Actually not bad, I loved the tartness of the olives against the tastes of the peas and asparagus.  Then she had lamb which was supposed to be a shoulder, which she liked, but I thought was dry and over-cooked and I had a confit de canard that I deemed rather good, albeit with awful fries. The dessert she longed for was out and so we finished with coffees from this coffee-guy Xavier who apparently is a big deal coffee roaster nearby and an owner of this place.

With a bottle of Cahors and the coffees, our bill was 78€.  dBs 80.4 although to we two deaf folks it sounded much louder.

Go?  You know, I dunno.  On a holiday, with few other choices, it is and was appealing.

Rainettes: Quick - Frogs' legs are about to disapear off the menus.

Rainettes in the 4th is a frog place, OK?  Let's get that out of the way; if you don't like frogs and/or frogs' legs stop reading now.  Even if you like them, stop reading now and go because given the crazy trends in Paris dining, they could be gone tomorrow.

So one needs a 1st before the main event - which is frogs' legs, remember? - our friend up the road chose the snails - vary Franch non? - and Colette and I had the onion soup - that did not sweep me back to 1953 but then I was anticipating.....

 

The frogs' legs and yes, they were every bit as good as last time here a month ago or in 1953 down at the old Halles.  My dining partners told me that the gratin of potatoes and butternut squash were equally as good.

Colette had a superb apple tart for dessert and my crème renversee, remember it from Chapter 24 in French in Action?, was up to Capretz standards.

Our bill, with no bottled water but two bottles of wine and two coffees, was 90 E a couple.

Oh yah, come hear for frogs' legs - right?

Chez Julien in the 4th: Old carte, new chef? What's up with this Costes tourist trap, John?

5.4 Chez Julien, 1, rue du Pont Louis-Philippe in the 4th, 01.42.78.31.64, open 7/7 (Metro: Pont Marie or St Paul) was not the primary destination today but my dearest old friend from the Marais said she was not up to schlepping from her cabinet/apartment up to Belleville and I wracked my brain for something nearer - and indeed in Figaroscope, Emmanuel Rubin November 2nd noted that Chez Julien had a new chef, one Helmi Derbal, ex-Rendez-Vous des Camionneurs, so how bad could it be?  Backstory:  The last time I was here was in September 2006, just after it came into the hands of the Costes Empire and some dishes were terrific but the fish was bad product, nasty-nasty.

My friend ordered the formule at 26 E of a salmon tartare and veal with 5 spices (a nice osso buco) while I had the 28 E blanquette of beef with a sauce I couldn't stop soaking up with the rice, superb bread and my fork.  The bread with its great crust deserves mention itself.

Our bill with a bottle of fine Brouilly, no bottled water, but 2 coffees, was 91 E.

Go?  You know, I usually advise visitors to avoid tourist traps, but given the scarcity of beautiful venues serving half-decent food in the Marais, I'd say yes if only for the décor, beautiful view and fantastic bread.

Rainettes in the 4th: It's raining frogs in the Marais; Hallelujah!

7.2 Rainettes (the other word for frogs in French), 5, rue Caron in the 4th, 09.86.59.63.85, open Tues, Weds, Thurs dinner and Fri, Sat, Sun lunch; (Metro: St Paul) is one more in the long line of mono-maniacal (as Figaro would say) restaurants, following Rouge (Tomate), Pommes, Cochon Gaulois, Boeuf Maillot and others I've forgotten, along with the oyster places - Istr, Bar a Huitres, L'Huitrier, etc. that tend to feature one product front and center, albeit also having other items as well as Yankee-food-focused Maryland crabs, BBQ, hamburgers, hot dogs and such.  As you enter there is a huge patch of vertical moss, etc., as there is over the stairway downstairs.  In a rather small space are lots of stools at high tables but a few regular tables and chairs.  The "menu" is a startling 19 E for 2 course; 22 E for frogs' legs; but I wanted the whole deal so I went a la carte.

I started off with the frogs' legs beignets which were glorious, especially with the crème fraiche/ciboulettes and spicy tomato sauces; followed up with splendid frogs' legs provencales (that is, butter and garlic) with black rice; and to finish an (unpictured) crème renversee (Pop-Quiz; what was the name of the cook in French in Action who served it - remember, she was a "pearl")? All of it went down very well with a Pic St Loup.

Now, my bill with a half-liter of wine and fine bread and coffee was higher than necessary; a couple with a bottle of wine and no bottled water could easily exit for 119 E.  dB's were only 77.8 because the wonderful English-speaking wait-lady turned the American music down.

Go?  You must.  Who doesn't like frogs' legs?  And if you don't there's salmon, duck breast, beef, etc.

 

Restaurant H in the 4th: Another flawless, tasty meal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Restaurant H in the 4th is a place where Colette could have a superb lunch and still make it the the Chatelet for the NYC Ballet.  We knew the drill; no-choice menu, 3 dishes for 30 E, over-priced wines (starting at 45 E) and lovely service.  And so it was.

 

amuse-gueules on wafers
- a perfect egg in fluff and girolles
- perfectly cooked veal on a bed of puree and surrounded by scallions
- strawberries with ice cream and whipped cream
- gutsy mignardises

Our bill for three, with a bottle each of sparkling water and wine and three coffees, was 155 E, thus 103.32 E a couple.

 

Restaurant "H" in the 4th: Holds up very well indeed and the word is out.

Restaurant H in the 4th has, as I said last month, a minimalist outside, 3 minimalist no choice "menus," but a pretty unminimalist photo I couldn't avoid with "Super Big Gulp" facing me smack in the eyeballs.

Amuse bouches of creamy stuff on thin wafers were presented on top of broken walnut shells, along with very good bread, house-made butter and a butter knife that sat on its egg-like bottom.

The first course consisted of perfect eggs, potato cubes, cumin mayo and small pieces of mackerel; the main dish featured crispy skinned duck outside/moist inside, with roasted onion on an onion puree with apple sauce and ethereal mashed potatoes; and the dessert was a delicious lighter than air egg white froth with grapefruit icecream, an avocado base and coconut toppings.  We three were very satisfied!

Our bill with a bottle a glass of wine, no bottled water, but 3 coffees was 149 for 3 or 99.33 E a couple.  Darned good from this 28 year old chef Hubert Duchenne who trained with Jean-François Piège and Akrame Benallal.

Restaurant H in the 4th: perfectly sourced, perfectly cooked, perfectly presented, ah, but where's the "soul?"

7.1 Restaurant H, 13 rue Jean-Beausire in the 4th (Metro: Bastille), 01.43.48.80.96, closed Sundays and Mondays, has got to rank up there with the restaurants with the most minimalist façade and signage on the most minimalist unknown street in the 4th.  It just shouts out "Enter and you shall encounter perfection."  And you do.  Like Pierre on Gambey and Spring, etc, yah takes what yah gets, here 3, 5 or 7 (dinner) courses for 30, 50 and 70 E.

We started off with one of those Porte 12 type presentations of specialty chips stuck into a bed of dried beans or such-like with two wines; why you might ask: Because like Jack Spratt & Co., one will drink no red and one no white.

For a first, we had nice warm pieces of lieu jaune with boule d'or (it sure sounded like Bulldog to me) turnips that were superb, albeit not captured by my camera; then a beautiful piece of veal, truly well-sourced and cooked with whole baby carrots and a carrot puree with kumquats, also missed by me; and then one of us had cheese and the other two a divine chocolate-caramel dessert; finishing up with marshmallows.

Our bill was 177 E with one coffee, super bread and funny butter, thus 118 E a couple.

Go back?  I really think this ancient second of Akrame Benallal has got the makings of a great place on his hands but he needs to put his "soul on the plate" as someone puts it.  Everything is perfect and as I have said about other places like it - "too perfect."  How does one do it?  I don't honestly know, but he's got a great start.

GrandCoeur in the 4th: 2-star seafood with finesse; what you'd expect from Mauro Colagreco from Le Mizazur in Menton.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

6.9 GrandCoeur aka le Grand Coeur, 41, rue du Temple, (Metro: Rambuteau) open 7/7, 01.58.28.18.90, opened rather softly a few days ago while I had expected a flurry of buzz largely because it's the first northern outpost of Mauro Colagreco (he, the Argentinian-(Italian) chef of the 2-star Mirazur in Menton); also I fully expected he had set up his Argentinian-team and gone back home - but no - as you will see. 

Since I'm still bus-dependant, until the new knees arrive, Colette asked our invitees to go as early as possible and snare a seat in the outside courtyard-terrace (of the former Tex-Mex horror - The Studio - named for the adjacent School of Dance, Music and General Noise).  And they did and we had superb seats in the shade - with the arrival of a brioche-roll and olive oil from Menton and some wine from Bordeaux.

First off our friends ordered the carpaccio of ceviche'd fish which was ab-fab and I had the sardines a la plancha with olives that set their tone perfectly.

For mains we had the poularde with what I assume were Noirmoutier potatoes; the fish of the day, described as "very, very tender" but whose name we, among whom were 2 professional translators, could not fathom; the bar with divinely poached fennel; and (unpictured) my fish soup with their very special bread and rouille.

After a trip to the loo (Red Door) and a view of the spectacular interior, we got the bill:  with one bottle of Chateldon, 2 bottles of wine and 4 coffees, it was 237.20 E, thus 118.60 E a couple; and then there's the chef - who at this point appeared (no s**t?) and schmoozed us up and I guess still has his hand on the piano.

Go?  If you like seafood, if you like the Riviera, if you like finesse (well, except for the drums at the Music and Dance School) - this is the season's must-go-to-place.

Les Pinces in the 4th: Traif in the Marais; Yankees eating Yankee food.

7.0 Les Pinces, 29, rue du Bourg Tibourg in the 4th, 09.83.56.47.93 (but reservations for parties of 6+ only), Metro: equidistant from the Hotel de Ville & St Paul, looks really inviting from outside with its neon lobsters and jolly clientele - but wait, how does one enter?

Ah, there on the left is another jolly place full of jolly folks, but no way to get inside, wait, there is a big unmarked door between the two - push et voila.  Yup, this is the place; menu simple - whole lobster, lobster roll or cotes de boeuf - ah no thanks, in a lobster joint.  "Two lobsters please."

The lobsters, flown in from the US or Canada (ours today) were done to perfection and broken up so not a lot of effort had to be expended.  The fries and wine were surprisingly good although a green salad does not work with lobsters - get some coleslaw folks.  We shared a delicious cheesecake and were mighty happy.

Our bill, with two lobsters (I'd guess 1 1/4 which I like), the cheesecake, a bottle and glass of Sauvignon de Touraine, no bottled water but two coffees, was 95 E.  dB=97.1 (which is loud but we managed as only two people next to the window).

Go?  For my readers who are not from the Yankee North-East, for sure, and it's open weekend lunches.  My companion, who is an honorary Yankee because of her years in the States, pronounced it quite good indeed.

Miznon in the 4th: The wackiest, weirdest, wonderful "food experience" of 2014.

4.0 Miznon (as you'll see, I thought the food was a 6, my dining partner a 4 but the service was a solid 0), 22, rue des Ecouffes in the 4th, (don't bother telephoning 01.42.74.83.58 or 01.44.78.01.89, just show up early if you want a table), open everyday 12-12 except Shabbos (Metro: St Paul) is a "trip."  When I first read about it, its food was described as Tev Aviv street food and the service like one finds in a kibbutz. 

Sounded right to me and perfect for my old Franco-American friend who likes the Marais and knows from Tel Aviv, where the Mothership of Miznon exists.  So, you walk up the rue des Ecouffes and there's this minimalist place, OK, normal in Paris these days, whose windows and interior are filled with piles of fresh veggies; a carte on a blackboard written as if in a children's cantine, also routine here these days; and a wooden spoon for the handle in the toilet - now that was different. 

But the sense you get from the place is utter chaos - chefs are scarfing down food at the counter, hued guys (Sri Lankan, African, we argued which) are schlepping boxes of stuff in and to the cellar, tables aren't set (when they are, it's only with a big aluminum bowl and a napkin dispenser - for forks you have to climb over the owners discussing business on a couch and for plates ask the few waitfolks) and they're in no way ready to receive customers at 12 noon.  I think it's a hoot; my guest enters and says "I've ever seens anything so disorganized in my life, are you sure this is a restaurant?"  No, I say "it's an experience.  Lighten up."  "But I know Tel Aviv, this is nothing like Tel Aviv."  "Let's see." "Did you look at the carte when you came in?"  "No"  "So go now."

"I can't see much to eat, except the lamb kebab."
"Me too, why don't you go order two please."
"OK"
Long wait, she comes back
"We have to order and pay now at the counter but I told her you were a food critic so we'll get served quickly."
"Oh no you didn't. Now we're doomed."
Approach counter-lady.
"That's all you want?"  "No vegetables?"  Throws out suggestions.  "Cabbage, sweet potato, ratatouille, artichoke?"
"Artichoke."
"They're not ready yet."
"OK, so just two kebabs a tarte tatin and some wine, you have a list?"
"List?"  "Hey, Youssef, what'd'we got for wine?"
"I'm busy."
3 minutes later, another wait-lady schleps in a case of Merlot (Kosher of course).
We take condiments to table, sometime later, a woman shouts "A., sweet potato."
"Well, I'm A. but we never ordered one."
"Yes you did."
"Can we have our money back or some other vegetable?"  "Hummmm."
Minutes pass,
"A., kebabs."
But what they really were, were lamb meatballs in a pita.  By my lights, darn nice, crisp meatballs, OK meatballs, albeit in a paperbag as if to takeout, I'm happy."
But she says "this isn't a kebab, none of those things on a chalkboard described the real food."
"Hey A., this is an experience."
"And who ever saw a tart tartin like this?"
"Come on, it's dried apple slices, warmed up with caramel with a pseudo-hot-dog-roll made of pita, it's cool."
She exits to return to work.  I exit but try to get our veggie - no way.

The bill, including our undelivered veggie, was 54 E.

Go?  Me I would, but Colette never will (dB level over 80 dB) and my friend A. will cross the road before going by it again.