John Talbott's Paris

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.

Le Metropolitain in the 4th 2.3 years later: Better but not great.

Shortly after a Top chef candidate took over Le Metropolitain, in the 4th, around October 2011, I went with two fellow food-bloggers and thought it merited only a 3.5/10.  Since then, one reliable poster on a reliable food site urged me to reconsider and today I took a trusted, albeit chatty, food and wine connaisseur, with me.  We both spent a lot of time looking at the carte and red wine list and decided both were uninteresting and had poor prix/quality ratios.  So the menu and a white wine it was.  How could we go wrong for 22 E and 24 E respectively?

We found out very quickly: the pressed chicken and foie gras terrine (my friend declared it "one dimensional") was saved only by the two capers served, it needed dozens of them t come alive; then we had the nems of confited veal and layered potato cake - "this is tastier" he said; and finally came a millefeuille of chocolate - at which point he said "average, average, John."

Now disclosure: my friend tends to be a bit of a blabber-mouth and thinks I'm some sort of big deal blogger, which attribution he disclosed to Madame, who rewarded us with two more glasses of the Valencay with dessert.

Our bill with the two menus, good bread, one Valencay and one coffee, was 68 E.

Go again?  Not me, even though it was quiet (84.4 dB), partly because the couple next to us looked to be breaking up and rarely talked or looked at each other.

Les Nautes in the 4th: Very cool setting, very nice food, very warm service.

6.4 Les Nautes, 1, quai des Celestins in the 4th (Metro: St Paul or Sully-Morland), is open Wednesday through Sunday, 01.42.74.59.53, and occupies an old abandoned Ports de Paris building, recently restored.  Today was the beginning of Nautic 2013 at the Porte de Versailles, so that seemed a good excuse to look out over the water and sample the cuisine of Sofia Bouziane (ex-Robuchon, ex-Pourcels).  The interior is cool, almost butcher-block tables, slatted metal ceiling, 2nd floor seating (not to mention the tables outdoors on the quai itself which during Paris Plage must be teeming.)

My invitee had already installed herself in the corner and by the time I arrived, the rain had stopped and the sun was shinning brightly in her eyes - "Would you like to move over here a bit where it's shady," said our genial host.  "Indeed," and it was done.  The menu had several intriguing items and when we mentioned a Languedoc as our wine, our host proposed two bottles both of which he had us taste.  The Bois-Sans-Soif pleased my compagnion most and there we went.

After a bit of hesitation, she ordered the shaved fennel with agrume wedges and I had a dozen No 2 oysters (for 18 E, a bargain I thought); both were very good.

Again hesitating, she asked our host's advice on a main course and she had it - a big ravioli with a nice dish of shaved parmesan on the side - which she deemed OK.  But I loved my baby pork shoulder with turnips from Pardailham in the Hérault/Languedoc-Roussillon - scrumptious.  Finally, we shared an outstanding Paris-Brest.

Our bill, with no bottled water, a bottle of wine and two coffees, was 91.60 E.  dB level 71.3.

Go?  If it was good today, on a sunny day in summer it'll be divine.

The Cafe Francais in the 4th: Oh the tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2.0 Le Café Francais, 3, place de la Bastille in the 3th, 01.40.29.04.02 (Metro: Bastille) is a Costes (which I only this week learned was pronounced Coast not Cost-esse) Family restaurant, a group I have been wary of, ever since I first encountered one of the then 40 establishments they ran/run - Time called them "The Brothers who ate Paris."   In any case, last week I ate at Le Petit Marché, another new Costes place and I decided maybe I've been wrong about these guys all these years. So, it's a Sunday, right, and I had to find a place accessible to/for my chef-pals with a pousette and up popped Le Café Francais.  It's a nice enough place, cool setting, huge terrace, blue on blue and a menu that while pricey, looked like it could have something for everyone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Actually I had trouble finding a first, but after my friend showed up minus the distaff side of the family, he readily ordered some foie gras, which, with a half of a buttered, toasted ficelle and a curried mango condiment, was darn good.  My petit pois soup on the other hand was pretty tasteless even with salt and pepper.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then he had some pricy chicken which was in his words "sous videy" and in mine "yuckily moist" with a huge side of FRENCH FRIES (we can call them that again) and I had a whole merlan Colbert (that is,  fried) which even with a double portion of tartare sauce, salt, pepper and lime, was not up to the standard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He ended with a fruit salad that we agreed was pretty good.

With a bottle and glass of wine, no bottled water, OK bread and butter and two coffees, our bill was a shocking 153 E; incredible, there must be a mistake, no, it's correct, Holy Cow!

Go back?  I fear not in any case, not under any circumstances, not under any threat.  So what's with the Scott (not Shakespere) quote - oh I felt deceived, snookered, scammed, robbed.

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

8.0 Le Sergent Recruteur, 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.