I cannot get enough of Keith Haring and apparently neither can Paris. I don't know how many shows or sales of his I've seen but they never cease to leave me laughing.
This show at what is supposed to be a Museum for Children is called "Les Hiéroglyphes de Keith Haring" but could equally be entitled Keith Haring having fun.
This was my third visit to Saturne and in my mind even more successful than my prior meals. About a year ago, after it had opened, I rated it an 8/10 and it was certainly that if not more today. I went with my downstairs' neighbors who were culinary trail-blazers for me 40+ years ago and we were blown away. At the table next to us sat a chef whom I also have great admiration for and who re-introduced himself to us; and I thought, "oh boy, if this is where he comes on his days-off, we're in good hands."
They now have 3/3/3 choices for 37 E and it's extremely difficult to decide; but we did, the lady having an intruiging salady thing of cold fennel shoots, warm marinated cucumbers and fresh goat cheese and the boys a tartare of veal with oyster(s) within, atop an egg - both divine and inventive.
Then Madame had milk-fed pork which had a wonderful crisp skin with potato, M. had scallops with a leaf of cabbage that Mme noted was sort of like an inverted scallop shell and I had the pintade with a puree of who knows, which also had a crisp skin. Was it the best pintade I've ever had? Yes or at least close.
Pause for a commerical break: how about this for a wine "Tout bu or not tout bu;" how can you not love that?
For dessert my pal had what he declared was the best dessert of the past month, a pear with chocolate and Madame & I had the tatin of apples that I'd challenge anyone to top.
With the great bread they always have, OK coffee, one bottle of wine and no bottled water the bill would be just under 100 E a couple.
Go? For innovation, taste-exploration and fun you cannot do better than eat Chef Sven Chartier's creations and drink sommelier Ewen Lemoigne's picks.
Now Figaro ran a survey this weekend coinciding with FIAC and 95.15% of their sophistocated right-wing respondants thought that contemporary art was over-priced. I think that's going a bit overboard. I went to the third site off-the-Grand-Nave today and I thought the stuff was pretty nifty. Some examples:
So, it's Sunday October 23rd and Paga and I are watching the Rugby World Cup Final between the All Blues and the All Blacks and trying to figure out what the actual difference is between what a fullback, wing (left and right), centre (inside and outside), fly-half, scrum-half, number eight, flanker (openside and blindside), lock, hooker and prop (loosehead and tighthead) do and how this is progress from the other designations such as "three quarters" and "out-halves", "first-five eighth" and "second-five eighth" as well as half-backs and "loosies" and "inside backs." Verbiage courtesy of Wiki.
In any case, despite my secretly wearing an All Black tee-shirt and baseball cap during the match to jinx the Haka-intimidators, we (France) lost closely, which I suspect tomorrow's L'Equipe will blame on the ref but I think is due to the fact that when you're a nation of 4 million with 13 times as many sheep, up against France, which has 62 million people but far fewer sheep to run away from, you don't breed the same winners in rugby, sailing and climbing (you forgot Sir Edmund, didn't you? - who also did it 'because it was there.")
To further depress us, DSK was once again in the headlines, this time associated with a prossie ring in Lille - like someone in the New York Review of Books said about another famous guy who has a whack-a-mole history, "This Hitler, will we never be rid of him?"
OK; to lunch and the famous chef on his day off.
I'd forgotten but the store across the street is the most clever take-off on the name of America's most wonderful songwriter there is. So there.
After we (speak for yourself Kemo Sabe, OK, I) polished off the rillettes of cod, it was onto the ceviche of bar and oysters and bulots - Yikes, I was full already.
Madame had the daurade royale and the rugger-guys had lacquered mackerel which were very similar to the wonderfully smoked eel, that good sushi places serve - delicious.
For dessert, we three shared two portions of figs in red wine, of which there was none left after we got done.
Our bill; hummm, let me hem and haw a bit here; if we hadn't had the bulots, bubbly and (extra) booze, we would have come in easily under 100 E a couple. But we were having fun.
Go? In a flash; Sunday, fish, and at least one great chef eating out (I'm not telling who either, nawny, nawny, nawny) on his day off.
Today, again barred from the main FIAC show, I went to the sculpture strewn around the Tuileries and some was quite good, some (a rock say) banal and some arresting.
Le Bouchon & L'Assiette is a place which Colette and I and a few co-conspirators from Paris by Mouth have found to put out consistently very good food at reasonable prices (33 E for 3 courses at lunch for example, with wines from 6 E a glass or 17 E a 50 cl). So when my downstairs pals suggested we go, I leapt. There were many appealing items on the 33 E "menu" but also stuff on the "today" chalkboard.
M. started off with the tete de veau which was good, Madame with a terrine de campagne with spicy Basque peppers both of which were super but I had the most innovative and unusual dish - bulots marinated in a vinaigrette/garlic/ginger sauce but with gourmand peas and an cold cream of soy bean sprouts. Now I make the world's best bulots in wine to be served with mayo but these were way above my range of expertise. After one bite of his tete, M. said "This is better than Paul-Bert." "Hold on" I said, "you're not finished this or anything else yet."
Then two of us had an incredibly generous portion of large scallops with a chestnut and something puree and M. had the filet mignons of pork topped with peanut and coriander star-dust. "Much better than Paul-Bert."
Madame and I and folded our cards at this point but M. insisted she have the goat cheese with honey and he, the Basque cake with a bowl of melon balls - both superb and not what you'd expect. "Paul-Bert" said he, "never going back." What was it Sachel Paige said - "Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you” - watch out P-B.
With some Burgale wine, tap water, coffee and adequate, not great, bread, our bill for 3 was 156 E; thus 104 E a couple.
Talk about turning defeat into victory; today after a most disappointing meal, I headed over to FIAC, that bazaar of contemporary art in the nave of the Grand Palais that started most modestly in 1974 but has now turned into a huge venue for hundreds of galleries and for at least two years has spilled over into the Tuileries. There are also two offshoots along the C-E, Art Elysees and Design Elysees, that are near the Metro #1 stop at C-E Clemenceau.
I approached the Press line at FIAC and was informed by a Dragon Lady that my presence was no longer desired; I protested, "but, I've been coming for years," to no avail. So attempting to recoup something from a day of disaster I saw the sign for the Design Elysees and said "Why not?" And was that the right recovery.
Wow; it was dazzling and fun and the owners of the spaces said it was fine to shoot these photos.
Is it worth 15 E? Dunno. But I'll be back next year.
Open through Monday October 24th.
3.0 La Pulperia, 11, rue Richard Lenoir in the 11th, 01.40.09.03.70, closed some lunches and Sunday, is beloved by everyone - Bruno Verjus, of Omnivore and France Culture and of course his respected blog "Food Intelligence", who TMK, "found" it, Jerome Berger of ANP and Aurelie Chaigneau of the JDD, who awarded it an unprecedented 8.5/10. So on the anniversary of the failure of the Argentinian banking system, according to today's Figaro, we decided to celebrate by going to a French restaurant chef'd by an Argentinian guy who had passed through the great kitchens of the Ritz, Crillon and Jardin Royal de Monceau.
Now across the street is the oddly named Bar O'Bistrorologue, hummm, is that a good or bad omen? Avanti. For lunch they have a most appealing-sounding and reasonably-priced "menu" of two items for 15 E and three for 18 E
and with three chefs in the open kitchen we were guaranteed brisk serving of dishes - not! They appeared in a leisurely if not languid, fashion which helped push the rating from an ordinary 5.0 down to a 3.0. So, how did I arrive at that.
6.0 Welcome and seating and warmth.
8.0 Napkin
8.0 Corn puree/soup (from a can or Picard's but nonetheless) with pulpe that was really chewy, hard and quite frankly tough.
2.0 (generous) for the empanada of meat (who knows what meat - dog maybe?)
3.0 Filet of bar atop mushrooms.
5.5 Veal onglet on mashies (I would have rated it higher but M. said no.)
5.0 Cod with root veggies - not bad, just not great.
5.2 My friend so judged this cheese plate (I disagreed, thinking it better but he wussed me down.)
4.0 Chocolate tart - actually an 7.0 but because it was served with such glacial speed, its orderer had had to depart without a nibble so make that 1.0+7.0÷2=4.0.
0.0 Oh boy, the flan, or was it flan, or just a flash in the pan of a flan?
Our bill, with a bottle of wine, a bit more to get us through the endless waiting, no bottled water and so-so bread, was 117 E, 78 E a couple.
Go? To Argentina?, sure; through food bankruptcy in Argentina?, no need. I have only myself to blame though - I broke Talbott's Rule 5bis, never eat ethnic food in France unless the chef is Japanese or American.
I went over to the Pompidou after lunch with some trepidation and completely unprepared (I had intended to go to my great barber on the rue des Blancs-Manteaux but he was on conges.) So I entered the C.P. aka Beaubourg to see what I could see.
The Munch is mammoth and I assumed (wrongly) would be crammed with sick/suicidal/screamy stuff so I looked forward to the first room when was just learning; then the second, and third and by golly, right up the 12th and last room it was splendid. I was most happy.
Then I retreated to the ground floor for their usual "throwaway" exhibits but was wrong again: #1, Cyprien Gaillard winner of the Marcel Duchamp Prize in 2010 - gee whiz - the sculpture(s) in the room otherwise surrounded by photos was awesome and finally to 150 works of Yayoi Kusama whose soft sculpture I disliked but whose paintings that echo those of Vasarely were pretty nifty.
3 Wows!
I was surely born in France of a chef father and food critic mother.
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