6.5 La Marée Passy, 71 ave Paul-Doumer in the 16th, 01.45.04.12.81, open everyday, inhabits the space that would appear cursed – three restos in as many years – Le Bigorneau + l’Escale run by the Coutanceau group and now this. It’s in a great location, if you love the 16th or are on your way to or from the Trocadero or Musée Marmottan.
But even to an alien from the 18th, it’s pretty nice. Except for one American couple on the verge of an argument, and a couple of sugar-daddies and sugar-babies, most folk seemed to be French, rich, pleasant and old (but more about that later.)
As I entered the place I noticed, even at 12:30 it was pretty packed, and the host immediately greeted me and on learning my name apologized profusely; the kitchen staff had screwed up and while he had a record of my reservation, I would not be at a primo table but stuck off in Siberia/Coventry/etc. for which he sent over a coupe de Champagne right off (PS I had a fine table, in a fine location, in the midst of wonderful folk my age who entered wishing me not only a “Good Day” but a “Good Meal!”)
There is an extensive menu on the blackboard; firsts ranged from 10 tasty-looking langoustines to a scallop/celery/chestnut soup to a tartare of salmon and oysters to what I had – crunchy giant shrimp with a tandoori sauce (that I could have sworn was a regular tartare sauce); the seconds included a huge whole maigre (meagre, one of the Drum/Sciaenidae family) solette, bar, daurade and what I had, simply the “Best of the Year” scallops (grilled toasty brown on the outside, raw inside); and classic desserts of which I had the crepes Suzette (in homage to the late great Bistrot Cote Mer – it was more flour-y than theirs was).
As I was saying my goodbyes to the host and congratulating him, he said that they just cooked simple food – harrumph, it may be simple but it’s great product, well done. It turns Olivier Morteau’s formula (go to a culinary desert, import an innovative chef and charge low prices) on its head – the 16th is hardly a desert, there have to be a host of chefs to run a place that provides two meals a day, seven days a week, and the prices aren’t rock bottom.)
But these folk are hustling, the bread is gold standard, the cheese by MA Cantin and they have well-priced wine by the glass, 18 cl portion and bottle. At least on a Sunday for those statistically inclined, the age range was 20-90, the mean age 88, and the median 82.
And the damages, with some very nice white wine, were 52.50 €.
”Should one go?” On a Sunday, for a fish lunch, I cannot think of a better bet.
*Originally published in December 2006
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