Comme A Savonnieres in the 6th: What a rentree to "The Rentree."

 

5.8 Comme A Savonnieres, 18, rue Guisarde in the 6th, 01.43.29.52.18, closed Sunday and Monday, opened a bit before everyone (but me) took off for climes South.  Between the first Bison Fute and hint of the Rentree, I keep a list of places that look promising to try on my re-emergence from the grand holidays.  And my late August strategy is to start telephoning on hitting the ground and see what's open.  Bingo! - in more ways than one.

The resto is called "Like in Savonnieres"  Why, because it's clearly in the heart of St Germain des Pres and this photo of a disorienting, sliced verson of Les Deux Magots and the church from a nearby gallery is better than a GPS in orienting you.  So why?  Ah, the patron hails from this town in the Indre-et-Loire, found among better known places such as Amboise, Azay-le-R, Chinon and Vouvray and is known for its andouillette and fouaces (thank you Wikipedia).

But I don't want to imply that the carte is restricted to Loirish dishes, it's pretty comprehensive and so full of choices that my oldest friend in Paris (in age, exactly mine) and I had a tough time choosing.  The amuse gueule was/were thick slices of charcuterie and radishes (my!).

She started off with a marinated chicken (which I wouldn't have chosen, it being too pure and healthy) with salad, and then had filets of pork with figs and cooked veggies that I thought were done exquisitely but she thought were undercooked (she was wrong of course.)

I started with divine rillons atop a salad that put the salad frisee at Aux Lyonnais to shame and proceded to mac'n cheese with cepes which had an economical but not gustatory ratio of pasta to cepes, but was, once depasta-ed, very good.

The dessert we shared was a panna cotta with a beurre sale sauce that was one of the best things I've had since childhood.  I should mention, too, that the bread was exceptonal and the coffee truly ristretto.

Our bill that included a bottle of Martal wine, was 85 E.

Go? It goes without saying.