3.0 Perroquet Vert, 7, rue Cavallotti in the 18th, 01.45.22.49.16, lunch served Tuesday-Friday, dinner from Monday-Saturday. This was one of the most wonderful meals of the year – I ate with two eGullet members who were delightful and we talked nonstop through three courses and cheese and 3 pichets of Bergerac.
It was the first day smoking was banned in all the public places in France, except bars and restos, and the clientele was making sure everyone knew that this French exception survived. And, the food John?
Ah, there’s the rub. I thought that the waits for our first and then second courses were a sign that the kitchen had broken down, but no, it was just weak. The entrees were variable; the foie gras was as good as all of us had ever had, the rillettes of salmon standard but good product and the warm chicken gizzards and hearts gave the cold lentil “salad” a nice touch.
But the mains were pathetic: an absolutely tasteless rouget, a thinly sliced and overcooked (despite instructions) strip of veal liver and a piece of pork that was so undistinguished that I ate several pieces before one of us realized he had ordered it not me.
Saving grace: the potatoes with the liver were crisp and delicious and the coffee terrific, though again, not as I had asked. I stopped writing at this point and the desserts and cheese will therefore mercifully be omitted from my report. I gotta say this for the place, though – it was cheap – 113 € for 3.
Should One Go? Not unless you have great companions.
*Originally published in February 2007.
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