Too often, cynics like me tire of restaurants that were astonishing 50 years ago, places like Allard, L’Ami Louis, Aux Lyonnais (even after Ducasse’s attempt at defibrillation), Senderens (even after star-stripping-himself) and Taillevent, to list them alphabetically. Why? Because they became museums, keepers of past glories, sellers of rubber tires and makers of saddles that/who have long since been replaced. They serve the same dishes they did in 1952, with the same good service but with 10 times the prices and with 10 times the number of our compatriots.
Too often, great chefs, such as Bocusse, Ducasse, Gagnaire, Robuchon and Savoy (again, keeping my list alpha) have spent more time accumulating frequent flyer miles and People notations than Paris Hilton, Lady Gaga and Lindsay Lohan combined. Do we really want to eat their food in Dubai, Tokyo or Las Vegas? Not when there’s native raw camel meat, soba and hookers to savor. They’re all so yesterday.
And all too often, those neighborhood joints that decades ago seemed kinda cool – places in my nabe, Montmartre, like Chez Paula, Beauvilliers, Wepler and Charlot, now seem faded and worn and yes, so yesterday.
So off we go to new horizons - that dazzle, that delight, that deliver consistently newer and fresher dishes - places like Le Galopin, Septime, Tintilou and Vivant; not forgetting the Constant Empire, Repaire de Cartouche, Spring and Ze Kitchen Galerie, which while a bit longer in the touth, also “deliver consistently newer and fresher dishes.”
But, but, but, once in a while we stumble/tumble/crumble on a place we haven’t the darkened the doors of in eons – A La Biche Au Bois, Chez Denise, Le Petit Marguery, La Regalade or the Tour d’Argent (that I went to at age 18 and nevermore until recently) and what do we find – fine food, freshly featured, fantastically fabricated.
And, and, and, we stumble/tumble/crumble on places we’ve never eaten at, such as the Gourmets de Ternes, which has been around for 50 years, which I’ve passed 50 times and I’ve ignored 50 walky-byes. And, and, and, I’m here to tell you, that for genuine French-French food that’ll give your cardiologist cause for concern, this is serious food – from its goose foie gras to beef with marrow to its generous aka huge Baba. Is it decadent? – mais oui! Is it delicious? - mais oui! Is it what we want? - mais oui!
I rest my case.
This week's rant’s coordinates are:
Too often, great chefs, such as Bocusse, Ducasse, Gagnaire, Robuchon and Savoy (again, keeping my list alpha) have spent more time accumulating frequent flyer miles and People notations than Paris Hilton, Lady Gaga and Lindsay Lohan combined. Do we really want to eat their food in Dubai, Tokyo or Las Vegas? Not when there’s native raw camel meat, soba and hookers to savor. They’re all so yesterday.
And all too often, those neighborhood joints that decades ago seemed kinda cool – places in my nabe, Montmartre, like Chez Paula, Beauvilliers, Wepler and Charlot, now seem faded and worn and yes, so yesterday.
So off we go to new horizons - that dazzle, that delight, that deliver consistently newer and fresher dishes - places like Le Galopin, Septime, Tintilou and Vivant; not forgetting the Constant Empire, Repaire de Cartouche, Spring and Ze Kitchen Galerie, which while a bit longer in the touth, also “deliver consistently newer and fresher dishes.”
But, but, but, once in a while we stumble/tumble/crumble on a place we haven’t the darkened the doors of in eons – A La Biche Au Bois, Chez Denise, Le Petit Marguery, La Regalade or the Tour d’Argent (that I went to at age 18 and nevermore until recently) and what do we find – fine food, freshly featured, fantastically fabricated.
And, and, and, we stumble/tumble/crumble on places we’ve never eaten at, such as the Gourmets de Ternes, which has been around for 50 years, which I’ve passed 50 times and I’ve ignored 50 walky-byes. And, and, and, I’m here to tell you, that for genuine French-French food that’ll give your cardiologist cause for concern, this is serious food – from its goose foie gras to beef with marrow to its generous aka huge Baba. Is it decadent? – mais oui! Is it delicious? - mais oui! Is it what we want? - mais oui!
I rest my case.
This week's rant’s coordinates are:
Les Gourmets de Ternes
87 bvd de Courcelles in the 8th, (Metro: Ternes)
T: 01.42.27.43.04
Closed Weekends
A la carte 60-70 E
T: 01.42.27.43.04
Closed Weekends
A la carte 60-70 E
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