Au Vide Grosset in the 2nd: Damned if I know how I got there.

3.0 Le Vide Gousset, 1 rue Vide Gousset in the 2nd (Metro: maybe Bourse, Bus: #85), 01.42.60.02.78, is a place that's been open since 1905

but doesn't really look it, until you peer down behind the bar

and see the ancient cave.  Scarry eh? 

So why was I here?  You don't want to know, but to fill space, I'm going to tell you.  It was a place recommended by an up and coming media lady three weeks ago, who told me she wanted to meet up once again with a starred media-man before she left Paris "forever" for New York City (the way she said it made it sound like being assigned to Bangladesh or Mali) and between the two of these famous folk, this place, and this date were all that were possible.  OK.  I'll do anything to eat with the culinary trend-setters.

Then yesterday she says, "I have only one meal left before I leave Paris forever [as if Air France is going on permanent strike] and I want to eat at an Italian place that serves food out of tins on picnic tables in a chilly basement," and he says the equivalent of "fame and fortune are more important than friendships".  However, since yesterday was indeed the day of the Oscars and he could've have had to have gone to "ollywood," with the "Artist/Hazanavicius/Bejo/Dujardin bunch," he gets a "bye" on that one.

However I go, figuring that if the trendsetters have blessed this place, it's gotta be good. Right?   I look at the carte: sandwiches, salads, tartines, burgers, etc.  OK, I can deal with this, switch to Plan "B".  Deeefense.

Starter: Rillettes de canard with chili beans; straight out of a can (the can markings on its side); OK, no big deal, Minchelli, the Cristal de Sel, Tete dans les Olives and the long gone Berty's all sold such without shame.  And I'm ashamed to say, with the great bread (which I hope was from the bakery next door that Colette loves), it was terrific.

Then I ordered the bio chicken with morilles (17E mind you, and they changed the silverware - it's that sort of place); and it was dreadful; the chicken may have been bio or maybe B.O., morilles hard to find, and the sauce very strange.  And there was a ton of pasta, oh my.

Someone complained that I didn't pay enough attention to the wine I order/drink so let me say that today I had a Protect Planet Merlot that was quite nice.  It had an especially nice label which, 40 years after California figured out that people bought wine based on cool labels, Figaro wrote today that French brewers/vintners had come to the same conclusion.

My bill without dessert or bottled water but a half of wine and coffee, ammounted to 43.50 E.

Go? Unh unh.  When the Bureau chief of the most important food review in France finks out on her own original suggestion, there's a reason.

January 11th, Le Fooding said "

vendeurs d’Hartford Homme, le bedeau de la basilique Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, les secrétaires de la mairie du 2^e, les touristes assoiffés, les victimes de la mode, le plongeur de Chez Georges, les coiffeurs de David Mallett, les fumeurs, ça vous faisait déjà une jolie clientèle… Lionel a donc pris les mêmes et recommencé. Autrement. Avec les clopes en moins (la carotte a résisté à l’extérieur mais pas les cartouches à l’intérieur : plus que trois boîtes de Cohiba à vendre...), et quelques ripaillardises en plus. En conséquence de quoi, ce troquet de rêve vient de passer de la catégorie bar-tabac-croque-madame-tiens-Lulu-tu-me-remets-une-pression à la catégorie bar-d’époque-tartine-Poilâne-tiens-Lionel-tu-me-remets-un-ballon-de-Gramenon. Humez la nuance ! Toujours dans le même jus de chique, intouché, immuablement comptoir, miroirs, percolateur et cuisine placard. Mais en plus aveyronnais et plus alléchant : sandwichs au pain de chez Julien, charcute Ospital et vieux cantal (4-7 €), croque-monsieur au jambon ibaïona avec chips artisanales de l’Aveyron (10 €), copieux burger et frites (avec un cornichon et du ketchup, ce serait parfait, merci, 14 €), assiette de légumes de saison poêlés avec chorizo et jambon (12 €), omelette aux œufs bio, saint-nectaire fermier, New York cheesecake et tarte aux myrtilles… De la bonne dînette en attendant l’installation d’une vraie cuisine-labo. Et par là-dessus ? Des bulles (un spritz à l’Aperol et à 7 €), du blanc (aligoté De Moor, cheverny Villemade), du rouge (côtes-du-rhône Bastide des Galets, Richaud) de 3,50 à 6 € le verre. « Et c’est qui le patron maintenant ? » demande la concierge du 39, rue du Mail. C’est Lionel Favario, le mari à Dorothée Dereux (dans le léopard sur la photo), le père de Balthazar (dans les bras du Léopard…), ami par alliance de Jean-Louis Costes, du groupe Costes. D’où, sans doute, le petit chocolat Costes servi provisoirement avec le café. // Y.N.

s'y rendre

Restaurant Au Vide-Gousset
1, rue Vide-Gousset
Paris (75002)
MÉTRO : Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre, Pyramides, Sentier & Bourse

TÉL : +33 1 42 60 02 78