John Talbott's Paris

Kiku in the 9th: worst Japanese meal of the last two centuries? Ah, maybe.

 

00.2 Kiku, 56 rue Richer in the 9th, 01.44.83.02.30, closed Sundays, got Emmanuel Rubin's #2 slot in his ratings of fall openings, so on my traditional last night out before I leave Paris, at a resto I can eat at nearby, after a filling but awful meal at lunch, I went.

I went down the Street of Sorrows (wrong ref, but hey) of Asian places, why are they all here?, all full before 8 PM, I found myself at Rubin's treasure.

Japanese customers, OK, I must be right.  Japanese waitresses - cool - they are cool.  No one speaks much French - fine.  No record of my rez despite my recollection (impressive enuf that they turned at least 4 others out into the street).

Order the only possibility - Menu degustation at 35 E and some booze.

First, oh yah, very supremely excellent chopsticks looking like carved wood (could'ave been.) 

Then, a very strangely spiced salmon sashimi (disclosure: I have spent about 10 weeks total on three trips (some paid for by you, my loyal reader/citizens) in provincial and Tokyo restos, including many ryokans as well as places in the Western world, so don't accuse me of total Pinkertonesque sensibilites) and I was taken aback by the finesse, the ineffible, the indescribable, taste.  Between genius and awful.

Then an entre-course of chicken liver pate - strong, assertive, most decidedly not my stuff.

My main was called a shrimp tempura - not by me.  It was, hummmm, sort of full of finesse, the ineffible, the indescribable.

Then some sort of fish (which was not tuna, which is verboten here) which was, sort of full of finesse, the ineffible, the indescribable, with so-so rice (which my friends from the East only ate some of which, 2/3rd's way thru) and good, very good soup (which my friends from the East only slurped at the end).

The bill without bottled water, overpriced sake or coffee, crept up to 45 E.

Go?  Pay attention here, Calvin, not on your life, unless Rubin treats you and tells you why he likes each item.  On second thought, not even then.

Buzz: What is it, after all? An archival* essay.

My Bonjour Paris colleague, Margaret Kemp, refers to her column and herself as Buzz.  Indeed, one encounters many columns in the print media labeled Buzz.  If you search that fine scientific resource Wikipedia you find two definitions for the term: the first, most common is slang for hype, the second, a marketing term – i.e., word of mouth promotion.  Well, I want to talk about the word in terms of its use in Paris for restaurants. 

Buzz here is created about or around a new restaurant in several ways.  First, it is usually the result of PR efforts, the prime example of which was Helene Darroze’s arrival and greeting in town.  Most respected critics hated her food and the website and blog reports were highly ambivalent, to be charitable.

 

The second meaning of buzz relates to Wikipedia’s first meaning – hype.  Places are quickly hyped beyond their true worth.  An example of this is the Cantine de Quentin where everyone gave it the benefit of the doubt because it was started by two nice, earnest, well-meaning ex-Guy Savoy guys who invaded Boboland with what they themselves termed an “epicerie fine, caviste, restaurant” as well as touting a “chef a domicile, diners prives, cocktails, petits dejeuners, cadeaux d’entreprise” that is, a deli, wine store and restaurant as well as establishment providing a chef to go to your home, private dinners, cocktails, breakfasts and business gifts (I swear it’s all on their card). 

 

The third meaning that I’ve just divined or made up, is related to the process of fluffing up sauces to make dishes look bigger and fancier than they are; in this case to cause folk to think something new is going on.

However, let’s go back to its origin; after all, what is a buzz?  It’s a noise, usually an annoying (machine) or menacing (biting bugs type) noise, right? 

 

As opposed to the US where buzz can develop for a book – e.g., The DaVinci Code or a film – e.g., “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” despite rotten reviews, French buzz is generated by PR firms who “boost” a resto or chef beyond his or her stature.  And here we come back to Darroze whose talent was blown out of proportion by a clever marketing scheme that had her do everything from cooking for photographers to posing in pastel colored negligees.

 

You know buzz, like you know pornography or art, by what you see; it comes at the end of the meal when you leave and say to yourself or others- “what was all the fuss about?” or just “what was that?” 

 

Let me pick Darroze and Quentin’s opposite – Spring*, whose modest chef did not seek out a single reviewer or publication – but miraculously, they found their way there – How?  I have it on good authority; by the horses mouth.  By neighbors dropping in, by flanneurs walking by, by people who ate there saying to their contacts in the media – this guy’s got “it.”  Now just exactly what “it” is, is the subject for another essay.  But again, you know “it” when you eat “it.”

 

I’m a prime example.  I (no real food critic) heard about this American guy cooking nearby.  So I took a real food writer and another person who’s written about food and restaurants for web-based pubs.  And they took people; as did I, inching up the food critic ladder.  Now, make no mistake, I’m not claiming any credit for Daniel Rose’s success, indeed, I’m claiming the opposite, that like Kevin Costner in ”Field of Dreams” you should simply – Build it, and they will come.

 

You don’t need to buy nor create buzz; just do it.

 

Unfortunately, there are several serious and real dangers to buzz.  You may begin to believe it.  That’s good when the buzz is positive, but as Bernard Loiseau and Marc Meneau learned, it’s painful if not deadly when the buzz turns downward.  And eventually the Emperor will be shown to have no clothes; Helene Darroze and Cantine’s time will come.  And that’s sad; if people knew their worth and stuck to their level of competence, all would be well. 

 

My favorite among the above is:

Spring*

28, rue de la Tour d’Auvergne, 9^th, (Metro: St Georges or Pigalle)

T: 01.45.96.05.72

Open for dinner everyday but Saturday and Sunday (now and about to open for lunch Thursday and Friday)

Menu du jour 36 €

 

*Originally published in February 2007

 

**NB, Spring is in hibernation awaiting renovation downtown, but the 28 rue de la Tour d’Auvergne location is doing a brisk business in rotisseried chicken, etc.

Rich: The October surprise (and it’s only May): an archival* review.

6.0 Rich, 14, rue Cadet in the 9th, 01.48.01.87.87, menus at 25 and 30 € (the big boys say, but I only saw the menu-carte for three courses at 35 €), but running one up to 70 € a la carte without wine, is located in the old bourse where precious stones are or were polished/prepared/sold/who knows?

It is elegance itself. Wow! Upstairs is a baccarat-gaming/etc tabled bar/boite and downstairs a hip bar but on the ground floor is one of the nicest looking places I’ve been in, in years.

When I first read about it in Figaroscope, I thought – ho hum, 2 hearts, and 3 blocks by Toinard was equally unrevealing, but when it placed second in the running (to Spring natch) in Figaroscope’s ratings of new places this spring, that caught my attention. So off to the center of precious stone-kosher resto-land.

It’s just across the street from Le 7eme Sens which has a great chalkboard sign saying: “We speak English or at least we try.” Anyway, Rich is rich, in a great setting, warm welcome, fab home-made bread. Good signs.

I chose the fried gambas (4) with two sauces (spicy tomato and spicy vinegar) that exceeded the Bistrot Cote Mer 1990’s standard. Then I had the breast of chicken with a satay sauce and terrific rice (flavored with tea or jasmin or both.) (P. Gagnaire was correct, Asian influences are all over and Choukroun, Ledeuil and the Fooding bunch are to be commended for this.)

NB: there were lots of other choices: soups, salads, fish and meat courses as well as cheeses and desserts. Since I had some wine left (no ½’s but glasses are 6 and bottles start at 24 €,) I had two huuuuge slices of Corsican tomme with a wonderful fig confiture and a generous salad – just great.

Open 7/7 (therefore, a great Sunday lunch place).

Bill with 2 glasses of wine and coffee = 49.60 €.

Have I nothing bad to say? Sure: they have those stupid hand dry blowers in the loos. 

Q. Go? A. The New York Stone mart should have such a place.

*Originally published in May 2007

Good chow in tourist central?; it’s possible, maybe. An archival* review

2.5 Café de La Paix, place de l’Opera in the 9th, 01 40 07 36 36, open daily, with menus at 25 (1 course), 35 (2 courses) and 45 € (three), a la carte about 50 €. Who on earth would go to this tourist trap, best known as an after-opera/ballet dessert spot ? Me, after I learned that its new chef, Laurent Delarbre, was a MOF (Meilleur Ouvrier de France) and intended to modernize the menu.

I picked May 1st when openings/closings can be dicey and after weaving my way through/past dozens of sellers of lilies of the valley, plunging through Jean-Marie LePen’s manif and talking my way past the security guards (the poor restaurant was forced to hire two of them per entry door to keep the racist riffraff out,) I found myself back inside a place I haven’t been inside since the Jerome Robbins’ memorial at the Garnier almost a decade ago.

To my eyes, I saw not much change in décor but in the menu yes. The good news – my eating partner and I both had pretty good mains (me a perfectly undercooked and pretty tasty duck breast with shredded stewed duck morsels covered with julienned spring veggies; she three or four generous slices of joue de boeuf with fava beans and petit pois) and she loved her dessert of strawberry cake and ice cream.

But the firsts were pathetic (a tasteless, poor quality piece of marinated/singed tuna with tasteless shaved cucumber strips and a carrot soup with chicken strips); the bread was either old or store-bought; the service (you know what I mean) glacially slow and the 6 € apiece for (albeit good) coffee, an outrage.

Wines began at 25 € but even so the bill was 117 €/2 and we weren’t even able to see the Front National’s street theater although the cute little mouse scampering across the floor at the end of the meal was a pretty good show. 

Should one go? Hummm. As always, if you’re hungry after the ballet.

* Originally published in May 2007.

L'Office in the 9th: Another surprise and at terribly reasonable prices; an archival* review.

5.0 L’Office, 3, rue Richer in the 9th, 01.47.70.67.31, closed Saturday night and Sundays (despite what Figaroscope says) is just besides Le Jardinier and near a ton of hotels, making it a great destination for tourists on the prowl for a great, reasonably priced meal.

Entering I thought it was quite nice, small (20 covers) but outfitted quite well. Like Spring, which is just up the hill, it’s a one-man band with a teeny kitchen, I mean one oven and a frig and that’s it, forced “menu” at lunch and one server. However, the chef is flexible; after announcing the menu and seeing my face fall, he said of course we can also do…….. and so essentially we did have two choices for 1sts and 2nds which we took.

I chose the first from the “menu,” a spectacularly tasty beef bouillon with shreds of omelet, baby onions and fresh halved room-temperature baby tomatoes; my long-lost college classmate – three well-cooked, lovely shrimp on a bed of sautéed onions and something crunchy (Jerusalem artichoke, bleached fennel, hum).

Then he had the menu’s stewed pork on a bed of potatoes with a superbly spiced sauce; me – the onglet again cooked to perfection, sliced, sauced, on the bed of potatoes.

The dessert was a delicious three layered thing: currant brioche, apricots and a light creamy topping. When the guy asked for our coffee order I said “serre” and he replied “ristretto” – Illy it was.

Wines begin at 14 €.

Our bill was 48 € for two, that’s correct, for two. At night, the “menu” is 25, but even a la carte is only 30-35 €.

Any problems; if pressed, I’d reply that the toilet is small. Otherwise, this is where to send the next person wanting an inexpensive but good meal. 

Best value of the spring season!

*Originally published in May 2007.

L'Oriental in the 9th: Tagine anyone? Why did I leave Roland Garros for this? An archival* review.

0.9 l’Oriental, 47, ave de Trudaine in the 9th, 01.42.64.39.80, open everyday, moved recently from across the great 9th/18th divide into Roseland country (PM me if you don’t get the ref). It was always one of my quick bite/local last nite in Paris/once the apartment was clean, places. Now, tho’, it seems huge and important, equipped with the same furniture but lacking charm, intimacy and most of all, good food.

So anyway, enough snide comments, what was the food like, John? It does indeed look much the same as when it won Pudlo’s 2006 best strange resto award; it’s double the size; and its customers, all French, high class Magrebian or elite neighborhood folk, are loud and packing it.

I started with the brick of veggies whose pastry envelope was extremely good and probably cardiologically-evil, but whose insides were lacking (a 6 let’s say: 10 for the crust, 1 for the insides).

Then I had the chicken tagine with confited lemon and olives; now, this is a dish I cannot master, but Colette has, albeit with a little help from Brooklyn. It was not much of a much (rating -2.)

The wine, a Boulauane that advertised itself as good to serve with sun-dishes such as pizza, curry and Tex-Mex, was serviceable.

The bill – ouch, but come on John, for two dishes and wine, stop complaining, 32.50 €. 

Should one go? Asleep again eh?

*Originally published in June 2007.

Le Corneil in the 9th: What does John Whiting call it, a better standard of ordinariness?

 

 

3.0 Le Corneil, 18, rue Condorcet in the 9th, 01.49.95.92.25, closed Saturday night, Sundays and Monday diner was the recommendation of a trusted friend, whose local haunt this is and I can see why: it's ina lovely setting (obscured in the pix above by the dreadfulul rain), intimate seating and delicious looking food and wine menus at reasonable prices.

I arrived earlier than my oldest living friend in Paris, ah no, I didn't say that right, the friend I've known the longest who still lives in France.  So of course being American (one step up from Karl's German Major in Casablanca) I ordered some wine to wait.

She arrived, fresh as a rose, as do all my lovely French partners-in-crime, and installed herself.  We regarded the ardoise.  Hummmmh.  Mains looked great, firsts chancy.

We picked two things we both wanted; a veal chop with nuts and veal liver and ordered both "toward blue"), "aller-retour" Madame said - "Perfect."  Well no.

Side story: My hygienically-sophisticated (read obsessed) wife and daughter (both nurses) interested in public health (esp. mine) have been getting on my case about eating so much raw and undercooked meat, especially when I have a 4-hour bug the next morning, so I've been trying to order more pathogen-avoidantly.  But, dammit, beef and lamb don't taste good blackened and desiccated like others have it.  So I'm betwixt Scylla and Charybdis.   Hummmm.   But I said that before.

By the luck of the waitress's draw, I got the veal chop: overcooked but remembering my harpies voices in my ear like Jiminy Cricket, I sucked it up and after pouring on lots of salt and pepper, ate it - sharing 1/2 with my partner who by now........

had been served her very thin and terribly over-cooked piece of veal liver - turning to me she said, should I send it back? - Me, who's great advising others on being brave said - "Oui." 

The second time around it was slightly better but E. coli, salmonella and staph be damned, I will tempt fate next time rather than eat such.  And the potatoes and veggies were fine.

For dessert we shared a creme caramel with chestnuts; we both loved the base but she thought the chestnuts were intrusive.

With two coffees, the wine and no bottled water our bill was 58 E.

Go?  If you live in the 9th, I implore you.

PS. There's a sign in the door saying something like "Respect our neighbors, no loud (?singing?) stuff."  Must be hopping at nite.

 

Les Fils a Maman in the 9th: Ma'am, would that perhaps be Redi-whip?

 

1.0 Les Fils a Mamam, 7 bis rue Geoffroy Marie in the 9th, 01.48.24.59.39, closed Sundays, is a wonderfully-situated restaurant with some 30 covers in an alley (and 15 inside) behind a gate on the hotel and pizza filled street called the rue Geoffroy Marie.  I found myself there today on this strange warm week when we approach the rentree, because a fellow blogger sampled it as the sort of place one frequents in one's neighborhood when so many other places are closed.  I was wowed by her pictures of the frites.

They have a nicely-priced "menu" with two dishes for 13.50 and three for 16 E, with daily specials as well.  Wines are similarly reasonably-priced.

I started with an excellent "Italian cassoulet," which of course I had to ask what it consisted of.  It turns out to be ham and sun-dried tomatoes in a ramekin with olive oil and topped with melted mozarella.

Then I had the special fish of the day: in this case a pave of julienne (again I had to look it up) which is translated as long cod, burbot or lotte de riviere (which said lotte it tasted a lot more like.)  But the fish, its lemon-influenced sauce and flan of zucchini didn't send me into a rapturous state.  In fact, since others were drenching their burgers and frites with catsup, I thought I might ask for Mexican hot sauce.  BTW; How/why do the French manage to eat a cheese- or hamburger with a knife and fork; amazing!

So with the score tied at 1-1, I let the dessert decide; ordering strawberries (that I thought fulfilled the Bocusian-challenge of whether they can buy and serve simple, good product) with a Chantilly sauce (which I thought answered the Escoffier issue of whether they could make a simple but complex sauce). 

Backstory: Years ago when I was defending our country against the Commies while Rumsfeld, Cheney, Clinton and Bush the Lesser were hiding out from the Selective Service, we dined at the fanciest resto in North Carolina at the time and my C.O.-colleague-friend surprised us all by asking the waitress directly if his dessert was perhaps topped with Redi-whip (at the time a new miserable substitute for whipped crream) - which she thought was a supreme compliment.

Well, this Chantilly was more Redi than Velly and along with the mushy bread tilted my judgment towards a "no return" status.

My bill was 29.50 E (with wine but no coffee, since I waited for it in vain for 15 minutes (the delivery of all courses to all customers was excorable) and decided I'd rather nap).

Go?  For one dish and a sighting of great-looking fries, nah.

Spring summers in with lobster rolls on July 4th.

 

Spring, Daniel Rose's brilliantly successful tiny resto in the 9th, has invented yet another truc for the Saturdays in the Summer of 2009; North American lobster sandwiches (to me a New Englander, called rolls) with French fries cooked in goose fat, followed by watermelon (or raspberries if you're a revisionist) and accompanied by "cheap" wine and/or beer.

We had a great time as always and it's just the thing for a hot summer day, especially the 4th of July.

For those interested, the deal is to reserve your lobster rolls (priced according to the market but 37 E top) via the net (you cannot reserve a table) and while they're open from 12-8, I'd urge you to go at noon when the line doesn't stretch into the street.

Our bill for three with two bottles of St Romain but no coffee (the machine is broken) was 147 E but (disclosure) he comp'd us to the fries and gave us a really reasonably priced lobster.

The New Hot Quarters: the 9th, an archival* essay.

The ninth arrondissement is a real mixed bag: from the elegance of the Garnier Opera House to the seediness of Pigalle lingerie/sex shops; from the Grands Boulevards to the small passages up the hill towards Montmartre.

Americans probably spend more time in the small area around the Place de l’Opera, the Opera itself and the department stores of Galeries Lafayette and Printemps than the whole rest of the quartier and know the rest very little.

But there is more out there. One of my favorite museums is the Musee de la Vie Romantique and while its special exhibitions go from the familiar to the strange, it’s a great setting. Less interesting for me are the Musee Gustave Moreau and Musee Grevin, a misnomer for the wax exhibition but a great show can be seen at the Drouot auction house with its almost unceasing rotation of exhibitions and sales of everything from Picassos to grandma’s silver. I strongly recommend just walking in and around and sometimes even bidding if you know your stuff.

It’s not a great quarter for famous walks, you’re mainly going from point A to point B. But I do know friends who enjoy walking from the base of the hill right up to Sacre Coeur.

As for restaurants, oddly enough, there’s not a lot. Chez Catherine’s on the Rue de Provence was superb before she moved to bigger, pricier space in the 8th and about the toniest place is actually le Chene Vert in the Galeries themselves. I think the best undiscovered Paris place may well be Carte Blanche, that Georgette is a nifty place for dinner, that Le Petrelle is a quirky place with good food, that J’Go has great lamb, but of course that’s what they do (J’Go, Gigot, got it?), that the Domaine de Lintillac is a great place for dark and dirty meat of all sorts, that La Grange Bateliere will fill the bistro need, and that Le Jardinier is new and politically correct for your diet and, while I find it pricey, Chez Jean serves up some very good chow.

So, as usual, here are my favorites in the 9th

Carte Blanche
6, rue Lamartine, 9th (Metro : Notre Dame de Lorette)
T : 01.48.78.12.20
Closed Saturday noon and Sundays
Menus at 25 and 31 €, a la carte 35 €.

Georgette
29, rue Saint Georges, 9th (Metro : Notre Dame de Lorette)
T : 01.42.80.39.13
Closed Saturday, Sunday and Mondays
A la carte about 35 €.

Le Petrelle
34, rue Petrelle, 9th (Metro: Anvers)
T: 01.42.82.11.02
Closed Sundays and Mondays and open only for dinner
A la carte about 50 €.

La Grange Bateliere
16, rue de la Grange Bateliere, 9th (Metro : Richelieu Drouot)
T : 01.47.70.85.15
Closed for dinner weekends
Menus 25 and 30 €, a la carte about 55 €.

*Originally published in September 2006

Update May 2009.

There is no question that the culinary event of the last 3 years was the opening of Daniel Rose’s Spring. Word was so positive that he soon had one of the longest waiting lists in Paris.

While he closed up shop, last week he started taking reservations for dinner on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday evenings and next Saturday, May 30th he’s “starting a new formula at SPRING. Service all day... no reservations. Champagne, cold beer and LOBSTER SANDWICHES. Just what you always wanted during an economic crisis- a pricey luxury sandwich and enough cheap booze to help you forget about it. Call ahead and order live lobsters to go at cost + 5 eurobucks.”

As great as it is, one also should note the other additions to the quartier: La Canaille, Sobane, Carte Blanche, Cul de Poule and l’Office.

The standout here is:

Spring
28, rue de la Tour d’Auvergne, 9th, (Metro: St Georges or Pigalle)
T: 01.45.96.05.72
Open Wednesday-Friday for dinner with one seating at 8:30-9 PM 48€
Saturdays a new formula with service all day... no reservations. Champagne, cold beer and lobster sandwiches.
Also - live lobsters to go at cost + 5 eurobucks.