John Talbott's Paris

110 Taillevent: A place with good food that doesn't gouge on the wine by the glass.

 We met our NYC friends and enjoyed a very nice reurnion with them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two of us started off with the menu's escabeche of sardine cooked tempura style with fava beans in a soup of crustacian essence and one of our guests had a beautiful green salad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, Colette had the rascasse with avocado which she (and I ) found boring and borderline poor product; one of our friends had the duck with an intense sauce; the other, queneles de brochet - he lapped up every drop; and I had the paleron of been topped with a nice ball of cabbage and surrounded by what my friend Paga would deem dark brown/brown sauce.

For desserts, Colette chose the dessert assortment of childhood - chocolate mousse, rice pudding, flan and floating island, one of our friends had the cheesecake and I had two tasty slices of St Nectaire.

 

Our bill per couple was 95.50 which included a bottle and glass of wine (you gotta love a place that charges almost the same proportionately for a glass of wine as a full bottle), darn good bread, bread sticks, two coffees and a bottle of Chateldon.

Les 100 de Taillevent in the 8th: A very pleasant surprise on a very snowy day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8.0 Les 110 de Taillevent, 195, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore in the 8th (Metro: Ternes), 01.40.74.20.20, open 7/7 is a place I've had on my famous or infamous "list" ever since it opened last summer and hesitated to visit due to its price of 75-95 E a la carte and conceit of 110 wines.  But when my favorite cookbook writer/blogger/expert on all things foodish said it was on her list to review for a guidebook, I signed up.  PS The wall mural above right shows Chat. Margaux says she.

I took a look at the carte and decided in my head I'd go for the calamari on the plancha and blanquette de veau - it was that sort of a day - but she said "Hey, look at the menu (39 E), it's pretty interesting."  So quick reverse and indeed it was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She had the escabeched sardines in a croustillant dough, like langoustines often are prepared, with a lovely sauce and giant lima beans; and I had an almost Mondrianesque bloc of pot au feu with big chunks of carrots, leeks, etc.  We were both wowed and knew we were in the hands of a real chef (whom (Emile Cotte) we later learned came from Pre Catalan, Tailevent, Savoy and Meating).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then she had the quenelles which again came with lots of veggies as well as a superb side-dish of spinach  and I had a melt-in-your-mouth paleron of beef with an equal-sized cabbage leaf stuffed with greens (even though the menu said briased lettuces)- terrific both.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finally I ordered the farm St Nectaire which was room temperature and neither too young nor too old but perfect; and she had the one "ordinary" dish of the day, a cheesecake with raspberrries and fromage blanc sorbet.

She, having written at least one award-winning book on wines, declared the whole bottles over-priced and thus we chose glasses - she a Valois fondant and me an Anjou Villages.   The bill with two 14-cl and one 7-cl glass, a Chateldon and a coffee, was 112 E.  BTW the decibel level was a surprising 77.2 dB.

Go?  Better to ask will I bring Colette and the answer is "You betcha."

The Publicis Drugstore Steakhouse in the 8th: Good companionship, OK meat but lacks the "je ne c'est quoi."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.5 The Publicis Drugstore Steakhouse, 133 Avenue des Champs-Elysees in the 8th, 01.44.43.77.64, open 7/7 (Metro: CDG Etoile) opened some 6 months ago or so but took a while to work its way up my "list" finally making it today.  It's a lovely place, with cool furniture and kitchen and an unrivaled view out on the C-E, a view I haven't experienced, since eating breakfast on the terrace of Laduree 20 years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I arrived 20 minutes early, rather than the 20 minutes late I expected, after having my dear friends talk Freebox into restoring my Classical Music channel Mezzo and catching the often quirky/pesky #31 bus; but there I was twiddling my thumbs and reading the JDD.   Hummmm; "anything to drink?", "Yes, a bottle of Brouilly" (the second cheapest on a pretty steeply priced wine list).  My "date", ultra-sophistocated in all things wine and food, enters at 12h30 pile, turns the wine etiquette towards her and says "I hate Brouilly."  Whoops.

 

 

 

 

 

We look at the menu and both decide to go straight to the meat (passing the clam chowder and routine starters); she, after some discussion with the waitguy and rejection (largely nonverbal) from me about sharing the 92 E cotes de boeuf, goes for the 400 g. entrecote with boring shoestring frites while I head for a rarely seen item (excepting in pot au feu, she informs me) an American-sourced Black Angus short beef rib with spectacular spinach.  The meat was OK, above average, but when compared to that we've had around the corner, not quite as good.

Our bill, with good bread and butter, the wine, no starters or desserts, 1/2 San Pelligrino and two coffees, was 101 E.

Go?  For the view - you bet; for the meat, nah, head to nearby Charbon Rouge (6.5) or the Maison d'Aubrac (5.6).

Boris aka Chez Boris in the 8th: More Aubrac beef if that's your passion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 5.1 Boris aka Chez Boris, 129, rue du Faubourg-St-Honore in the 8th, 01.43.59.35.39, open 7/7, is a place I've been passing since Fall to or from Crom'Exquis and Marloe.  There's a plasticized sign out front that screams "Tourist Trap" but hankering for some beef and Aubrac beef at that convinced me to ignore the sign.  The decor gives the book's ending away - raw wood table tops, serious cutting knives and photos of cows on the wall.  The menu is beef, beef and more beef, in all its varieties, albeit there are three fish courses for those so in need.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I started with 6 escargots in the traditional preparation - OK but not the best ever; proceeded to a filet of beef with fries and salad - OK but not the best ever; and finished with a cafe gourmand - OK but not the best ever.

With a 1/2 bottle of Corbieres, no bottled water and OK but not the best ever bread, my bill was 56.90 E.

Go?  If seized by the Aubrac urge again, I think I'd go 650 meters away to the Maison d"Aubrac.

Marloe: A victim of its own success; and ever have a split experience where one couple scores and the other crashes?

Marloe on the Rue Commandant Riviere (ever wonder where the French get all their street names?  I mean after they've used up Honore Balzac, Jean Jaures, Jules Ferry, Charles de Gaulle and Marachel Leclerc (who freed Paris all by himself while poor George Patton was sitting 40 km outside slapping malingering privates around), etc.?  Well, Commandant Riviere was a French writer and Naval hero active in Hanoi/Tonkin aka to us/we Viet Nam Vets as Bắc Kỳ), is another very good addition to the usually dreadful eating choices in the 8th.  Marloe was, as it has been since it opened, chock-a-block full of shirts, loud (88.5 dB) and so successful it's clogging up/bogging down between courses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On one side of the table, our friends the Dean (not my Dean, but the Dean of a just-barely-not-in-the-Ivies-but-very-hot-college and his wife, the culinary writer and teacher) had a terrine of rabbit that they thought was too dry but I considered quite good, albeit strangely flavored; and our side had the gambas in panko that Colette and I swooned over.  Score 2-0.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OK; to the mains; their side had the Croque Monsieur (at 19 E), which the Dean judged ordinary and a good generous salad  and the food-expert chose the daurade, which she deemed "too fishy"; while the Talbott aka Talbot (orthography in the 18th Century was a slippery slope) side of the table had the scallops in a very light sauce with juliened veggies that were divine.  Score 4-0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Entering the last innings, their side had an extraordinary creme cafe with a macaroon crumbled into the cream that both sides declared superior; but Colette's Bourdaloue (pear) tart was not disgraceful - so, let's see, 4.5- 1 final score.  But who's counting?

Now at this point, after I had given a Gallic shrug/wha's-up signal to the head wait-guy after a long wait between courses, we were presented with 4 glasses of a Granny Smith licquer that was not a calva, not as alcoholic as an eau de vie (sez Colette) and not as sweet as an over the top Lemoncello. We all loved it!  (and, says Colette, we will buy a bottle for Chez Talbot ASAP)

With the moral equivalent of two bottles of wine, 30 cl of bottled water, good bread (good butter too, which Ciolette asked for) and 3 coffees our bill was 239.20 E, thus with a bit of rounding it's 120 E a couple.

Neva Cuisine: neva say neva.

Neva Cuisine remains a regular stop on our culinary circuit, because of its changing menu, interesting clientele and reasonable prices.  And today was no exception.  Decibel level a nice 71.6.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I started out with the crisp fried calamari on top of tonito iberico atop of cooked soft calamari strips in what tasted like a cuisinarted watercress almost-soup. Atractively arranged and delicious!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Colette had the scallops snackee with Granny Smith and salsifis, our guest from downstairs in our escalier had the bar with a nice crip skin, pasta and pesto and I had the crisp on the outside and moist on the inside sweetbreads that I loved.

At this point, our friend was seized by an episode of impending faintness and after several minutes of Colette's ministrations we exited via taxi home without incident.  Our bill for three, 119 E, was thus truncaded without desserts coffees or the like.  We'll be back for a full meal in the future.

La Maison de l'Aubrac in the 8th: Beef 24/24, 7/7 from his own farm.

5.6 La Maison de l'Aubrac, 37 Rue Marbeuf in the 8th, 01.43.59.05.14, open 24/24, 7/7, thus Christmas Day & Eve, New Year's Day and Eve (which it is today).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But one look at the menu - and 135 E per person - YIKES - oh that's the St Sylvestre price - WHEW -the other is much easier.

Our dining partner today was a well-informed expert who informed us that the place was somewhat ordinary when it opened but a couple of years ago the owner either bought or bought into the farm de Vialars in Aubrac of course, and all the beef comes from it.  The case of beef is awesome and the decor sort of like a country inn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette quickly settled on the joue de beef which they were out of but went with the less inspiring quasi de veau and they surprised her by charging for both.  Our friend S. and I chose what we'd shared a few years ago at the Bis de Severo - the cotes de boeuf with uninspired potatoes gratin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We looked longingly but fruitlessly at the dessert tray - appealing but since I was toting the cotes bone home, hardly doable.  Instead we finisged our bottle and glass of Syrah and with a 8 year old calva, 3 coffees and one big bottled water ran up a 114.46 E per couple bill.

Go back?  I suspect not with Colette anyway but maybe if seized by a 3 AM Christmas Day fit, might just.  But the inattentive service and double-billing of Colette'main were turn offs.

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Addendum: January 1st, 2013.  I returned to get a refund on Colette's 23 E over-charge and got the typical French crap: "Oh that was another Maitre d', come back tmrw," Me "No, no, no, that won"t work, I live in the 18th [making it sound like Mars], either money or a credit card refund will be fine," Him "OK, money."

 

Crom'Exquis in the 8th: Excellent, but is $102 per person excessive at lunch?

70dB* Crom'Exquis in the 8th was so crowded and well-reviewed that when I ate there a few weeks ago I immediately made a reservation for when Colette would be here.  We started out with the signature cromesquis, today made with foie gras.  A fine start especially with the bread.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette glomed onto the Jerusalem artichoke soup with foie gras and lemon and I had a dish of mackerel filets with various raddishes.  Both were terrific.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, Colette had the cod with a very light creamy sauce with mushrooms and I had a veal milanese which needed a boost of extra lemon and salt along with the tartaresque sauce provided as well as the creamed celery or leeks (looked like celery, tasted like leeks) to rise to the occasion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To end, Colette had a crumble of apple, pear and raspberry and I had a millefeuille of mango and chantilly; Both fine.

The bill, ah the bill, read 159 E and I automatically signed it not looking at it until I was home and realized they'd charged us for two bottles of Cotes du Rhone. 

Now readers from cities like New York or San Francisco probably think $100 per person at lunch for an almost star meal is par for the course but I sure had sticker shock until I realized the error.  In any case all will be illuminated when I return to the 8th Tuesday to negotiate a refund.

*the dB ratings are decibel max's recorded on my handy-dandy acoustic sound level meter, an idea Francois Simon pursued for a while.

Le Marloe in the 8th: what a wonderfully pleasant surprise.

7.1 Le Marloe, 14, rue du Commandant Riviere in the 8th (cnr Boetie, the ex-Piatti space) 01.53.76.44.44 (Metro: St Philippe du Roule) was a place chosen by my pal, the guy I call the Real Food Critic (RFC) after several email exchanges in which he called my suggestions - "boring." 

Admittedly. finding it is a bit of a challenge since apparently Christo got here before me and wrapped both streets.

But, I presume Eric Martin, formerly of L'Ami Marcel in the 15th about whom and which, Sebastien Demorand, then at Zurban, coined the word "bistronomique" (and I always thought it was Mon Vieil Ami) whose highly-rated L'Arome has been just down the street since 2006, has thoughtfully put the carte on a stanchion outside so you eventually figure out where to go.

The place really is nice, Randy, and is a cross between Philippe Starke and the New York Athletic Club Dining Room.  The welcome, although they didn't have a reservation in the names of the RFC, his brother or me, the decor, the staff hustle and bustle and piles of Bellota, got me thinking we were headed towards a 7's number today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I started off with what was essentially a terrine of rilettes of Gascon black pork from the Farm of St Gery with terrifically marinated, spicy, herby, tiny cauliflower florettes that were almost more assertive than the pork and wonderful toast; then of all things, a Croque Monsieur of Grandfather Leroy with Paris ham and frothy, foamy strong cheese - "why on earth John? so banal, so childish, so LC, you haven't had one in 55 years, you'll be scorned by your suited UMP neighbors," but no, they had it too and it was astonishingly good like Yannick Alléno's hotdog at Terroir Parisien; and while I could eat no more my charming waitress charmed me into ordering the creme cafe, insisting it would make my day - and it did, swimming in coffee cream with a nutty pastry shell - spectacular.

Between courses the chief guy, who turned out to be the aforementioned Eric Martin, asked me ever so politely and softly if I would mind switching tables to enable a party of four to sit and that got me a small eau de vie, but to be transparent, he did not comp me because I was me, he had no idea until we chatted at the end when I told him how much the RFC would have loved it and Colette will love it next month (Yes Colette I reserved and the scallops looked great).

The bill with a half bottle of wine, no bottled water, fine bread and a coffee was 54.90 E (but they have a forced choice 2-course "menu" at 29 E.)

Oh and as I was exiting M. Martin asked if everything was OK and I said more than OK, superb save the brown butts of the lettuce and he invited me back to the kitchen where the chef Thomas Boullault, ex of the Royal Monceau, pulled one out of the frigo and it was pristine, so who knows?

Go?  Yup, it's yet another wonderful rentree possibility.

Crom'Exquis in the 8th: Boy, Marc Meneau's kid Pierre really slings great hash.

6.9 Crom'Exquis, 22, rue d'Astorg (the "g" is pronounced) in the 8th, 01.42.65.10.74, closed weekends, has been open but a few weeks but it's already jam-packed with suits who overflow and stand, suits standing mind you, eating at the bar.  I'm sure Pierre Meneau is tired of being compared to his starred Dad in Vezelay but Dad's cooking has sure rubbed off on him.

The menu is 3-3-3 with two sorts of cromesquis (androuilette and foie gras and truffles) and at lunch is a bargain at 28 E for 2 dishes and 39 E for three.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We started out, how can you not?, with the signature cromesquis with andouilette (if you don't know what heavenly creatures they are, look here) as well as a fine Cotes d'Auxerre.  The waitress (they all wanted to speak English to us and we happily replied in French) explained that you had to pop it all in yourmouth and watch out because breaking into it could result in it spraying all over your neighbors.  Since there were 3 of us, I said we'll break this French rule and cut them three ways and you know neither the waitfolk nor food gods took revenge on us.  BTW they were terrific.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The global physicist had the pumpkin soup with foie gras and an egg (everybody is doing it this fall) and my fellow Board team/examiner friend and I had the bonito warmed on the outside with marinated onion strips and teeny tiny cauliflower flowers and carrots - yum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then she stayed with fish, with a nice piece of cod and grilled eggplant while the boys went over to the meat side with a somewhat too chewy magret but outofsight potatoes cut like they were intended to be fried but were not, they were confited in duck fat - that was a first for me.

 

 

 

 

 

At this point I folded my cards while my two ex-skiing buddies plowed into the pineapple roasted in olive oil and three types of sorbets.

With 1.5 bottles of wine, no bottled water, great bread and three coffees but omitting the cromequis (which I urge you not to, you'll find the 6 E on the street someday) the bill for three could be 163.00 E or 108.66 E a couple.  The credit card receipt reads Burgundy Cooking 89 Vezelay - Papa lurks.

Go?  If you can get in, be my guest, and Pierre's and theirs.