John Talbott's Paris

La Cocotte et La Marmite in Clichy: Worth the schlep? I don't think so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.0 La Cocotte et La Marmite, 76, rue de Paris in Clichy (Metro: Mairie de Clichy), 01.45.19.04.08, closed weekends, is a place I read about in Parisien earlier this month and the front-room guy - Olivier Granger - who did his time at Ledoyen, sounded like a hoot.  The menu is nicely priced although the cassoulet and Cotes de Boeuf put you in debt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We started off with Madame the cooking school lady having the interesting sounding terrine; Monsieur the sculptor the soup of the day of leeks and chard; and I herring with warm potatoes.  All were OK; standard fare, no fireworks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then she had the plate of winter veggies that she thought were terrific, he had a parmentier of boudin nour that was ahhhright and I had rostbif from Scotland that was also so so.  At this point we called a halt to our endeavors and sallied home.

Our bill, with a filette and bottle of Languedoc Salvat 2010 and two coffees, was 101 or 67.33 E a couple.

Go?  For them it was three Metro stops away; for me, almost an hour; for the pleasure of having Olivier's stentorian voice announce delicious sounding dishes that were just so so.  I guess the answer then is "nah."

Ma Cocotte in the St Ouen Flea Market: Coolest resto, toilets and clientele of the Year; Food, well, quoting a French expert "Nothing very special."

5.0 Ma Cocotte, 108 Rue des Rosiers, 93400 Saint-Ouen (Bus #85 Paul Bert), 01.49.51.70.00, has been generating hype/buzz since long before it opened in October to interesting reviews; interesting in that everyone commented on the decor etc. and gave fewer words about the food.  But in the closing days of 2012, I felt we had to go with our neighbors who were just back from their journey around the Cape Horn.

The formule is extraordinary - 2 courses for 24 and 3 for 29 euros including a 1/2 of bottle of water or a glass of wine; but on closer inspection, nothing was truly jumping out at your eyes stuff - Paris mushrooms and shrimp and hachis joues de boeuf seemed the most daring of choices.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bar/common table is cool, the garage door beams are cool, the tile is cool and the open (that is, "California" kitchen) is cool.  The clientele is hip, the waitfolk speak English and I'm sure other tongues antique-hounds speak and the place had a pleasant buzz that belied its 40-70 dB level.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The food John? - the food?  Oh yah.  Well Colette and I started off with the champignons de Paris and shrimp, cold, in a delicious sauce and our friends split a generous portion of foie gras with a chutney, ok, but nothing special.  No pictures John?  Ans. I was jet-lagged, dazed and confused.  Then Colette had two pieces of a passable farm chicken with "boring" mashed potatoes (and she knows her mashies), our friend #1 up the hill a banal blanquette de veau, and friend #2 up the hill, a parmentier.  At the last minute I switched from the hachis to a tartare (bad error) and frites (good move).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then, while I was not allowed to have a dessert (Quote from Mom, circa 1941, "If you don't finish your food you can't have dessert, there are starving children in China [PS "Mom, 'still', and Appalachia too"]), I watched and dug into their rice pudding, creme citron crumble and Baba - annnaah.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We interrupt this program to bring you an important announcement about Ma Cocotte's decor - "It is cool, Philippe Starck cool, from the cool elevators to the cool bathrooms to the cool second floor."  Pop quiz (do they have those anymore?) See if you can find Waldo, aka Colette, who refuses to have her real name or image damaged by the likes of meself, unlike Francois Simon, whose mug is  plastered all over kitchen walls.

   

OK, it's reckoning-up time.  Our bill, I dunno, once again, these guys up the hill out-classed me and put a literary gun to the head of the place, so I never saw it, but, but, but with a 29 E formule, 35-45 E a la carte and 18 E Talmar wine, you can do the math.  BTW, the bread was exceptional and did I mention the decor, clientele and toilets - Ok, so.....

Go?  As it was supposedly said long ago, "You can't eat the scenery."  One of our friends, described by his partner as a "person who never has a bad word to say about anyone," declared "Nothing very special."

Cantina Mundo in Bagnolet: Kinda funny food.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.0 Cantina Mundo, 7 Rue Marceau in Bagnolet (Metro: Gallieni), 01.43.63.26.95, closed Saturday noon, Sunday and Monday nights, is a place that opened in 2009 in the old Zebra Square space and was recommended to me both by my trusty East-of-town food finder and the French friend I've known the longest whom we were springing from her Rehab Center where she's recovering from a busted shoulder.  It's twist is that in addition to French food it has one entree, main and dessert from another country, that changes every 15 days and this week was Romanian.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Romanian choice for a first, an os a moelle soup, did not appeal to any of us, but the caramelized carrots and sauteed scallops were quite OK.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then the ladies had the caramelized spareribs with potatoes and I had the stuffed cabbage: I found their ribs boring but my stuffed cabbige, while quite filling, was quite solid and better than I actually had in Romania itself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette's pineapple tatin with caramel sauce was very good, the hit of the meal; my old friend's chocolate mousse OK but my Romanian mini-beignets were cold, dumpy and frankly horrid.

With a bottle and glass of Cheverny and 3 Nespresso's (couldn't prove it by me) and no bottled water our bill was 119.00 E or just under 80 E a couple.

Decibel level = 86.1 dB; the place was packed.

Go?  Hummmm.  The ratio of great dishes to OK ones to horrid ones - if any ratio can have three parts to it - does not lead me to say you must schlep outside the peripherique, but if springing your old pal from what she called a "modern boarding school" I suppose so. 

L'Escargot 1903 in Puteaux: Excellent food - too many waitfolk, too few chefs.

 

L'Escargot 1903 in Puteaux is another of those places like Pere Lapin, L'Escarbille and all those great places in Levallois-Perret that go unvisited by visitors because they're outside Metro 1-2 Zones.  And yet, they won't suffer; today L'Escargot 1903 was jam-packed with locals.

The "menu" is an easy 37 E for a great choice of items and we quickly settled in with a relatively new expat who is, like Hemingway, Baldwin and Fitzgerald, using Paris as a place in which to write her great American novel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a startlingly-spicy (for the French) amuse of tapenade on their great bread (toasts), we were served a tasty gaspacho - a good beginning!  Colette ordered what was called a presse of sauteed vegetables with burrata, topped with a couple of parmesan strips - and very good it was.  Our friend and I had the porchetta (a rollatine) of rabbit on a tabouli-like grain with a splendid lemony sauce. So far so good; I mean

we had our fine bread, nice carafe of water and bottle of wine and good company and lots of waitfolk and, but, still, yet, no main courses appeared for too long a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, I should stop complaining because once they arrived, our mains were wonderful; my lady companions both had the rouget, which was inadequately described on the menu; it was in fact a cocotte of various seafoods and fish a top a paella-like rice with peas.   I had the similarly minimalistically-described stuffed tomato - stuffed with cubed veal breast, zucchini, and mushroom on a bed of risotto - delicious!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For desserts we had respectively: an oeuf a la neige with banana/passion sauce, a lemon meringue tarte and a soup of strawberries and orange slices that set each other off perfectly.

Hummm, outside on the terrace was a Weber grill - I wonder what they use that for? Our bill with two bottles of that nice Syrah, no bottled water and three coffees was 168.50 E or 112.33 E a couple.

Braisenville in the 9th; Still pleasing if not astonishing.

Braisenville in the 9th is a place that was on my infamous "list" of new hopefuls for months and which I only went to a few weeks ago when our first choice turned out to be closed at lunch; it has since risen to near the top of my "recs list."  Speaking of which lunch-addiction,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Braisenville, like Au Passage under the lately-departed and mourned James Henry and I'm told Chateaubriand when Azpitarte was serving lunch there, pre-Dauphin, is a totally different experience at lunch and dinner; to whit; at lunch it's a 3/3/3 difficult choice "menu,"  2 courses for 16 and 3 for 19 E (left) and "tapas" at night, which liberally move from coldcuts to a Black Angus Cote de Boeuf (right).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colette had the gaspacho with cucumber chunks and croutons, which she, a gaspacho-nut, declared was "very good," and my oldest Anglo-Franco friend/co-biker/habitant and I thought our tempura of merlu with aioli was incredible (she after 50 years here, found there to be too much sauce - how French - but I thought it was like Goldilocks - just right.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After much too long a wait, our long-putting-up-with-us friend was served and liked her filet mignon of pork on a bed of puree savora and tarragon, excepting for its low temperature; Colette liked her daurade with rough-cut ratatouille, excepting for its over-abundance of oil; and I loved my bavette with chimichurri sauce, excepting for the fact that this great cut of beef needed nothing to bring out its wonderful taste (PS The waitguy, who is proud of his 8 years of English classes, also reads minds - because the ladies heard me say "saignant" and I was thinking "blu" and it came out perfectly cooked).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our friend had to leave, sad that some folks work, but Colette and I stuck around to have an order of sorbet and fruits and "brownies" which were like no brownies Colette, Mom or Grandma ever made but were/was splendid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With 1 and 1/2 bottles of a Gaillac and Cotes du Rhone, two superb coffees and terrific bread, our bill was 89 E, thus 59.33 E a couple (they comp'd Colette and my coffees for the under-temperatured dish of our friend, ironically.)

Les Grandes Tables de L'Ile Seguin (Arnaud Daguin) in the Seine (B/B): How disappointing.

- 0.1 Les Grandes Tables de L'Ile Seguin (Arnaud Daguin) on the Seine between Boulogne-Billancourt and Sevres (Metro: Pont-de-Sevres or T2: Brimorion), 01.46.10.79.72, open 7/7 for lunch only, serves largely bio/vegetarian food designed but I suspect not cooked by Arnaud Daguin, of the Basque Hegia, ex-Cafe Pleyel, son of famed Auch Hotel de France chef Andre and brother of famous foie gras lady of NY/NJ Arianne.  A chef friend and I had decided to go here the first "perfect" warm, sunny day of summer, and today was it.  The approach to the resto across the cool bridge (Renault) from the Pont de Sevres runs smack into the resto which was built with plywood and on metal struts/etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The interior is cool too, albeit with largely big tables for 6-10 and the exterior balcony with about 3 tables looking out towards Sevres.  Cool, totally cool, but.........

 

 

 

 

 

 

They have (on Sundays, which it was) a sort of modified Brunch (I had called beforehand and they insisted they had a "regular carte" in addition to the dreaded "brunch") off which recited list we had one cocotte of roast pork with eggplant and potatoes and three servings (three too many) of a vegetarian/gratineed concoction of peppers, squash, pumpkin and all sorts of other soggy, tasteless, veggies that even with Tobasco were not salvageable; then ice cold, cooked-yesterday slices of waffle and a mini-pancake, followed by a diced fruit compote that was edible.  It was all pretty dreadful and I'd suggest Arnaud, whom we spent a most pleasant evening with in the 1970's in Auch, take his name off these abominations.

With terrific ciabatta-type bread, a bottle and a half of Aix Mongestine Red, no bottled water, carrot juice, several coffees and one tea, our bill came to 160 E, thus 80 E a couple.

Go?  My goodness no; not even for the walk, the educational garden, the cool building/etc and time spent with this charming family on a "perfect" day.

MaSa Redux in B/B: Food not quite as shocking as last week; service in both senses lacking.

MaSa in Boulogne-Billancourt is a place I promised Colette and the French friend I've known the longest (43 years) we'd all go to.  The "menu" was much the same as a week ago with some minor revisions.

 

 

 

First-off came their great bread with zippy, zingy olive oil and an amuse gueule of an asparagus soup with a bubbly strawberry emulsion on top, followed by our firsts: ham and eggs (well, sort of) with shaved parmesan and the crab, asparagus, pomegranate seeds, grapefruit, avocado and yogurt yop.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then our long time friend had the Black Angus beef with one sauce (last week my dining companion was served two sauces) and Colette and I had beautifully producted and cooked rascasse with most excellent spinach and eggplant.  Now a word about the service.  First there were quite long waits between courses today which was not true a week ago and the wait-staff did not survey the room as they passed through delivering dishes to varous tables.  Indeed, I had to get up from the table to place our order for a second bottle of wine and request salt & pepper, which Colette felt the rascasse needed. (When our friend commented on the inattentive service, she was told it was due to short-staffing).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For dessert we  decided to share the tasty meringue topped with raspberries.  Along with our coffee we were served sesame marshmallows and non-alcoholic "majitos".

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With the afore-mentioned two bottles of wine (Colette vetoed the first), no bottled water and 3 coffees , our bill was 177.50 E or 118.32 E a couple.

L'Escargot (1903) in Puteaux: Well worth a trip, detour, schlep; no wonder it's all the big boys' favorite.

8.0 L'Escargot aka L'Escargot 1903, 18, rue Charles-Lorilleux in Puteaux (Metro: La Defense but you're better off taking the T2 to Puteaux and trekking a bit up the hill than traversing the impossible alleys of La Defense), 01.47.75.03.66, closed weekends and Monday nights is the 2nd of the guys who run La Fourchette de Printemps in the 17th, which is itself a great place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is, at the same time, a classic auberge you could tumble on in the Midi and a hip/quirky/Bobo joint in the 11th.

The 37 E "menu" is a good bargain (my pix omitted the other desserts - an oeuf a la neige, lemon tart and hummmm).

While awaiting my big stuff, I had a top-of-the-line tapenade slathered on terrific toasts and as an amuse gueule a veloute of surprisingly sweet carrots with cumin.  So far, so good.  Can they hold up?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The answer is a resounding "Yes."  My warm langoustines and asparagus in a lukewarm smoky puree vers soup was outasight; my magret, which I forgot to specify should be underdone, was, and sliced, sat atop a mound of simply wonderful morsels of Grannies, pears, apricots and melon - atop that was a caramelized wafer of nuts which neither added to nor detracted from the dish (let it go guys!); and my strawberries with orange wedges and peel in a divine coulis topped off a great meal.

Despite the horrid weather, I was in a festive summer mood awaiting Colette's arrival and had some of a quite pleasant rose from Aix, which, with no bottled water and a coffee added up to a sum of 51 E or 102 E a couple.

A note about the service.  Using meaning #1 - the waitfolk - they were eager, attentive, enthusiastic, young and very unpolished in a most charming way, asking every few minutes if I was pleased (I do think they caller ID'd me, so I did get the best langoustines, duck breast and strawberries, but rank has its privilege).  Under meaning #2 - delivery of dishes in a prompt but not rushed way - the kitchen rolled out the food in precisely the manner one looks and hopes for.  So 3 stars there.

Go?  Well, I left one happy boy; if it's good enough for me, it should be...........

MaSa in Boulogne-Billancourt: A rock-'em, sock-'em wonder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8.3 MaSa, 112 ave Victor Hugo in Boulogne-Billancourt (Metro: Marcel Sembat), 01.48.25.49.20, closed weekends is just one Metro stop outside the city but it is truly in another world.  If you think you've seen the name associated with a MaSa in the 17th, you're right, because Herve Rodriquez, ex-Lameloise, was at the Hotel Edmond for what seemed to be just a few heartbeats.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The interior is dazzling (as I recall the old Ducote Cuisine was when I ate a dazzling meal there in May 2008 suggesting that it could be "The next Big Thing"; it garnered and then lost a star and folded in May 2012  - there's a story there somewhere; the garden is beautiful but today a bit chilly and windy; and the carte is replete with complicated and intriguing sounding dishes which could easily drive the a la carte bill to more than 80 Euros a person, but luckily at lunch they have a 2-choice one course for 25, two for 35 and three for 42 E.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The amuse gueule was a sort of soup in which there was a luscious piece of beef, a perfectly cooked coque and another ingredient which with the tapenade looking but not tasting paste was never identified.  The bread to soak it all up with was splendid.  My poly-math dining partner, who'd walked 7 klicks from his flat near Sevres-Babylone ("there's a reason they call it the rue de Sevres," says he on arriving fresh as a daisy) and I both ordered the raviolis (really microtomed slices of giant ginger or gingerized beet, around decorticated crab, with asparagus, pomegranate seeds, grapefruit and dollops of avocado/yogurt yop) was exquisite and put behind me any second-wishes that I'd not ordered the heirloom tomatoes instead.

Then he, a reformed vegetarian, had the tenderist, best cooked bavette of Black Angus beef imaginable, served with a scallion, potatoes and two sauces and I (damn, lost that pix) had a wonderful perfectly cooked filet of rouget with a small hierloom tomato slice and divine eggplant puree.  Wow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My pal had a chocolate mousse with brownie like bits and a bar looking piece with a red pepper fluff; all were beyond tasty; and we both got sesame marshmallows and rum fluff with our coffees.

With a bottle of Cote Roannaise rosé, no bottled water and annoyingly inattentive service our bill was 109 E.

Go?  When have you seen me give a place a 7.0, far less over an 8.0, oh right - to the Auberge des Saints Peres, Spring, Violin d'ingres, Ze and a few others.  It's on Collette's "To Do" list.

Le Corot, Cafe des Artistes, Paillotes: who's in the kitchen with Dinah?

 
5.5 The Etangs de Corot hotel in the Ville d'Avray has three restaurants and TMK a single kitchen.  When Benoît Bordier came here in 2008 as Executive Chef from Chez Jean in the 9th, I came out 2-3 times to eat at the upscale Le Corot; then at the downstairs more relaxed Cafe des Artistes and finally today aimed to be at the guinguette-like

 
Les Paillotes which confusingly, "Do It in Paris" reported had its own chef as of July, one Yvan Duchesne, from the school of Ducasse, but, but, but...the hotel's own website says that "Weather permitting, this terrace becomes an extension of Le Corot restaurant."  Today, despite my having reserved at Les Paillotes, we discovered on arrival that it was booked for a wedding, so they directed us through the empty Corot to the Cafe.  So whose food were we eating?  Does anyone care?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My old pal from hosting days elsewhere on the web came with me and despite our wandering around lost by the forest for 30 minutes, she was dazzled by the setting - it is impressive.  Once encounced, she ordered the salmon a la plancha with a Bearnaise sauce and asparagus (in August, almost September - for shame!)  She thought it was standard bistrot fare, I thought its crispy outside and great sauce were terrific.  I had sauteed gambas with soy and julienned veggies and mushrooms that were equally terrific.

 

 

 

For dessert she had what was called a mousse but I'd call a creme of pineapple and I had the stangest-looking but best-tasting lemon meringue tart ever (practically).  Again, she was less approving than I (this is one tough critic); true none of the four dishes was eye-popping but even she had to admit that the setting made the trip well worth it.  (BTW; everytime I've come I've taken the SCNF train from St Lazare direction Versailles RD for 17 minutes and walked to the Etangs and today, because I was going to the museum in Sevres, we took the bus back; most civilized and we got to see this great store sign:

The bill, oh yah.  With great bread, really great bread, good coffee, a nice white Gaillac and a ton of atmosphere, it was 79.00 E.

Go?  Who cares who's cooking for which dining room; it's a fine place in a fun setting on a nice day.