Claude Colliot in the 4th: He's back - big, brash and brilliant.

7.5. The (Restaurant) Claude Colliot, 40 rue des Blancs-Manteaux (a mendicant order, how do I know this?, read on*) in the 4th, 01.42.71.55.45, closed Sundays and Mondays, has been open since yesterday and it's as if Colliot never left Bamboche (where he toiled to beloved crowds of Anglos, second only to the Regalade-devotees, from 1998-2004, when he was lured by the siren call of the Méridien Etoile, to chef their fancy-schmancy l'Orenoc, a huuuuge place with 140 covers, catering to rich oil sheiks and Swiss bankers and hapless Anglo conventioneers at the Palais de Congres.) 

Well, I loved La Bamboche and lets just say I was less enthusiastic about l'Orenoc, where I hosted my ever-charming ex-co-host at eG, for a birthday dinner, shortly after it opened.  So when my good old-boy buddy, the RFC, said Colliot was opening his new place this week, I leapt. 

Now eating the second day a place is open goes against all these new gastro-ethical guidelines saying you should eat at a place only after the kinks are unkinked out, eat at least 5 times and makes sure everyone at the table agrees; but I'm not Sam Sifton (who by the way, may be the worst critic the NYT has had since Raymond Sokolov; can't anyone there write English anymore?  I know, budget cuts, no more editing editors, no more fact checkers) so I went just once with just one friend, the lady who recently won the French equivalent of the Nobel/Pulitizer/Booker prize for wine writing (LWRWFEN/P/BFWW). 

This is it, no kidding.  It could be a dress shop or publishing house or barber shop (*mine is down the block which is how/why I know the Blancs-Manteaux was/were a mendicant order) - just an ordinary Marais white-faced glass thing.  OK.  I'm cool; right number, must be the place.

Enter: immediately am greeted by a very tall black guy I recall from days and restos past who asks how I am (sub-text, where've I been all these years?)  See my friend the LWRWFEN/P/BFWW and after bussing, sit.  Water - the new trend (as at KGB, eco-friendly house-made).

Menu (eg carte) very simple; 4 each of entrees, plats & desserts = 34 E.  Wines starting at 20 something.

Madame, the LWRWFEN/P/BFWW, orders some simple sounding maraichier starter (I recoil - simple market veggies from Colliot, oh no), sorry, it was incredible, simple-sounding, complexly-made, my, oh my.  Wait-boy brings me a soupish-looking foie gras something and I say, unh, no, I ordered the scallops - schmuck me!  I should have kept it and reordered the scallops and had both - they were among the best I've ever had, with minced carrots and an anchovy or was it sardine paste?  Well, at this point, I'm ready for John Malkovich to usher me into heaven were I as cool as George Clooney.

For a main, Madame, the LWRWFEN/P/BFWW had colvert with a funny-looking orangy condiment - oh I get it, duck with orange - and a beet; perfect - and I had sweetbreads with a crusty outside and moist inside with a truly marvellous off-setting ginger relish. 

Well, once again, not wanting to be disappointed by dessert, knowing from past experience that there's no way a chef, even as talented as Colliot, can do 1sts, mains and desserts equally well without a patisseur, shows you how little I know.  Madame, the LWRWFEN/P/BFWW, has agrumes, (how boring think I) but this is a day for many surprises, it was beyond good.  And my "pops" of fennil (?"pops" of fennil?) were knock-back, watch out for a contre-coup, delight.

Disclosure: Madame, the LWRWFEN/P/BFWW, is known to the house, and they very graciously pretended I was too, so we were comp'd to a dessert wine that was just right.

With a bottle of fine Corbieres, 2 coffees and the meals, one exits for 92 Euros.

Go?  Well, I told you about Spring, Bigarrade, Frenchie and the Cafe Cartouche and you didn't listen to me until they were over-booked, why should you heed me now?  But Colette and I will be here for St Sylvestre.

Comments

[dls]

I had a lovely meal at Claude Colliot last night, save for a small problem that developed into a bit of a comedy of errors. After three truly outstanding dishes, I was served a volaille that was raw in the middle (along the surface where it had been butterflied) and had to send it back. This they did without fuss, and the dish was returned to me properly cooked (well, to be honest it was very slightly overdone at this point, but not enough to complain about), but it had been re-plated and somehow the sides had been left off. Again no fuss, a new and generous portion of the carrots were brought within two minutes. Finally when the bill came the volaille had not been removed; I asked politely whether they would insist that I pay for it, and they said oh, indeed not, and took 10 euros off the (prix fixe) bill. I appreciated the lack of fuss, and every time I spoke up it was handled thoroughly professionally, but I do think I had to stick up for myself a little more than I should have. (The re-delivery of the plate devoid of sides seems like the most surprising error to me.)

I would enthusiastically second your recommendation of the place. Everything else was fantastic, and clearly it was bad luck on what happened to my second main course.

[John Talbott]

Yah, but a master such a CC shouldn't let that go out of the kitchen; I know some think he's pushing the adventuresome envelope too far but too much is too much.

[K]

My friend and I sat at the table next to dls's the night of the volaille incident (by the way, saying poultry instead of chicken sounds ludicrous, not educated). We were horrified that someone that petty-minded and stingy would even be allowed in a restaurant. That attitude is antithetical to that of someone who really appreciates food. Sad to say, but only an American could do that.

[John Talbott]

It is certainly a small world.

[dls]

Small world indeed! A fine restaurant has many different gestures it can make, to make up for a serious blunder; CC did not attempt any of them. At a restaurant with CC's aspirations, this should be greeted with a raised eyebrow -- they cannot improve if they are not aware that they have slipped (and evidently they were not aware). A few euros are of course hardly the point; the point is that I should not have had to say anything at all. It's a shame that it apparently affected K's meal too.