John Talbott's Paris

Chez Frezet in the 18th: This is the best that the Petit Marguery/Bastide Odeon Group can do?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.1 Chez Frezet,  181, rue Ordener in the 18^th , 01.46.06.64.20, open 7/7 (Metro: Jules Joffrin); the Mousset Group (which runs the three Marguery’s, Bastide Odeon, Chez Francoise and La Maree) made a stealth invasion into the quartier in April of 2011 taking over the then-named Paris Boheme where I had an awful meal under the misguided impression that the chef, who had been through my hometown Baltimore’s finest restos, might have picked up a few tricks and have retro-named it Le Frezet, which it was when Colette and I first came to the area and where I learned what salmon unilaterale, was.  Whew, how's that for running-on?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are two very reasonably-priced "menus" and I chose to go with the less expensive one, mainly because I craved eperlans.  But they came smelling of fish, too fishy, not as if they were plucked out of the Loire yesterday, over-salted but redeemed by a nice tasting tartare.  Then I had a faux filet which was OK, but the sauce seeking to replicate the "secret one" at the Entrecote joints, wasn't close to them.  Midway through I got a call from France Telecom - the guy was running early - who ever heard of that?  So I ordered some pre-made chocolate mousse which was OK but the biscuit wafer was superior.

With a 1/2 bottle of fine claret, no bottled water, more than passable bread and a coffee, my bill was 30.90 E (which may explain why the place was packed with locals despite the lack of reviews.)

Go?  Lesson Learned: If the only mention of a place is in a Figaroscope Dossier, unh unh.

Le Petit Verdot in the 17th: Now, this is a bistrot!

 

 

 

 

 5.6 Le Petit Verdot, 9, rue Fourcroy in the 17th, 01.42.27.47.42, was and still is a bar a vins but elevated itself to a bistrot in July, even though reviews are only now trickling in.  I entered (with a reservation for 2, but my "date"'s 90+ yo Mother had been hospitalized and same age Dad required help as well; so there I was at a table for two.  Why is this important?  Because as each of about 5 couples  entered without reservations and were told it's "sit at stools at the bar or return in 1.5 hours," they looked at me with a mixture of hatred and envy.  Lesson: Reserve!

It is neat looking place, lots of hustle and bustle, table of 6 old guys telling stories, just like in a Woody Allen movie, with a blackboard menu you'll need new glasses to read.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's a wine bar - right? so they ask what wine right off the bat.  OK?  A Faugares, quite nice.  Then I had the shredded beef in a ravioli with a kinda strange tasting sauce and pintade wrapped in its own skin (I used to do that with chicken 40 years ago) and chestnut puree.  Were they the best dishes I've ever had? - no; would I tell people to come here? - yes.  I'll tell you why in a minute.

With 1/2 bottle of wine, way above average bread, nice salami amuse-bouches and good coffee my bill was 41.50 E.

Go?  Yes.  How can I say that when I rated it only slightly above average (5.6)?  Because it has the bistrot feel, is packed with young and aged Parisians, has the energy of an Apple Store and the nostalgia of a place like the Bistrot d'Hubert in 1968.  And Colette will be happy with items such as the veloute Dubarry, scallops and rice pudding.

Reviews of reviews: The week of January 21st, 2013

Monday-Tuesday in A Nous Paris, Philippe Toinard reviewed and gave 3/5 dots to Le Fougeres, newly taken over by Nathalie Cognat (salle) and Olivier Charmadiras (chef) who serves up a host of dishes which muster his hopes that they have potential; meanwhile Jerome Berger awarded 4/5 dots to La Buvette, coordinates given before; and Alexis Chenu briefly mentions the vegetarian Café Pinson, coordinates also given before.  Since I doubt if any of my readers would ever search out a hot-dog I’ll just mention that they mention 8 places to get them that you can find on their website I’m sure.

Tuesday, Yves Nespoulous in Le Fooding, wrote up James Henry’s long awaited Bones, 43, rue Godefroy-Cavaignac in the 11th, open at night only, with a 40 E menu with a ton of dishes a la Spring ranging from raw scallops to merlu and desserts and cheese.

On Wednesday, in Figaroscope Emmanuel Rubin reviewed and gave two hearts to Le 6 Paul Bert in the 11th (coordinates given before) and Il Brigante (ditto) as well as one heart each to the wine bar Les Sardignac in the 9th, a Bobo bar L’Orillon Bar in the 11th and the first Repaire de Bacchus Daguerre, in the 14th serving food.

The Dossier this week by Colette Monsat, Alice Bosio and Hugo de Saint Phalle talked of fried stuff:
Brochettes at Kushikatsu Bon
Merlan at 110 de Taillevent
Eperlans at Cagouille
Fish & Chips at the Roosevelt
Pizza at Rebellato
“Gobi 65” at Saravana Bhavan
Rice with friend chickn at Sanukiya
Bricks at the Zerda Café
Langoustines at Alain Senderens

And Francois Simon, went to the Italian Sassotondo in the 11th .

In L’Express Charles Patin O'Coohoon reviewed Le Richer, coordinates alreafy given and Francois Regis Gaudry reviewed Cicchetteria.

Saturday, Francois Simon wrote that Lyon was the favorite of his readers/respondants for the Gastronomic City, that Palegrie there was the place to go and about the Bocuse d’Or this week in Lyon.

And Sunday, Aurelie Chaigneau in the JDD gave 6.5/10 to the Australian Tuck Shop, 5.5 to Les Jalles and 7 to Youpi et Voila; while Francois Lemarie reviewed L’Essentiel.

Le Bistrot du Temple in the 3rd: "Just a neighborhood resto, but a nice neighborhood one."

5.5 Le Bistrot du Temple, 19, rue de Picardie in the 3rd (Metro: Republique I guess), closed Sundays and Mondays, 01.42.77.48.01 is a place that's mellowed a bit since it's been on my "list."  It has an arresting red front, nice paintings, all by one painter and a couple that run the front room and second floor with great joy. 

The specials on the blackboard resemble those on the evening carte at a 30% reduction we were told and that seemed very fair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We started off with a quite nice camembert fermier heated in a pastry covering with mesclun, duck and baby tomatoes; a salmon-haddock tartare that had an interesting tart-soft salt-sweet yin-yang set of flavors; and bottle of Cote du Rhone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains we had triangolini pasta envelopes stuffed with cepes and flavored with truffle oil and a tempura of merlu (a first for me) with green veggies and potatoes.  We decided to share what was called a moelleux but explained and tasted like a prune pudding with sorbet - quite tasty.

With two coffees, the aforementioned wine, above average bread and no bottled water our bill came to 71.50 E.

Go?  As my companion, a food critic/journalist who indeed does live in the neighborhood said on leaving ""Just a neighborhood resto, but a nice neighborhood one."  I predict she'll be back.  Decibel level with loud American jazz music = 76.9; with calmer music and more clients, much quieter.

Pascade in the 2nd: good enough; no better.

5.7 Pascade, 14, rue Daunau (you remember Harry's American Bar which helpfully helps you to find it by writing "SANK ROO DOE NOO" on its window) in the 2nd (Bus: 95), closed weekends, 01.42.60.11.00, recently opened by Alexandre Bourdas of the famed SaQuaNa in Honfleur.  It serves pascades and pascades only - and while others describe them as crepes, they are not, they're halfway between a crepe and a quiche.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had invited my favorite cookbook writer/critic/blogger/friend/pal to dejeune here shortly after her arrival from NYC and she called at 11 AM - "John, I can't do it; I'm jetlagged; I'm crushed; forgive me."  Me "Ah, come-on, buck-up, brush your teeth, throw on some clothes, I'll be there at 12:30 with or without you."  Her "No I cannot, I'm sorry."

I walk in at 12:29 and at 12:31 in she waltzes, fresh as a rose.  The place is midway between an 18th Century Auberge and 22nd Century space ship with rough cloth napkins and stone walls but cool holes in the tables for metal cylinders of cutlery and a really friendly hip staff.  Carte.  OK, all pascades, which I haven't had in 25 years, savory and sweet - cool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She orders the pascade with cod, spinach, lime, coriander and sea parsley and I that with ham, endives, garlic and lettuce.  Pretty damn good, except I found the pascade pastry too sweet (as have others) while she, a Breton-Normandy girl, did not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For dessert we shared a pascade with truffle cream (so light that I, a truffle detester, didn't object) and 20 other ingredients (again I follow others who feel they pile on too many things in each production) and with our two coffees, chocolate from Ghana, Ghana?  You got it, they couldn't find anything in our neighbors' (Belgium, Switzerland, Italy) stores?   Hummmm.  But you've gotta agree that the presentation was super.

Our bill, with a bottle of Fitou, really interesting roll-ettes and coffee - was 79 E.

Go?   It's pretty good as I say, but I don't think Colette will cotton to the sweetish pastry.

Le Grand Bistrot de Breteuil in the 7th: Pretty grand I'd say.

6.0 Le Grand Bistrot de Breteuil in the 7th, 01.45.67.07.27 (Metro: Ummm Pasteur), open 7/7, is a place I have a special fondness for, since it's where Colette and I signed the power of attorney over to a dear French friend, some 22 years ago to buy our first Paris flat, some 22 years ago.  Then and now it had a "menu unique" with an apero, 3 courses, 1/2 bottle of wine and coffee for a reasonable price (today 42 E).  Why did I return?  Because every 10 years they get a face-lift and I'd read about the newest one and thought - every decade one should go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My dining partner and I have been sharing our courses 50-50 recently and it works pretty well - today we started with artichokes poivrade and rougets with chorizo - both of which had a hefty (good) kick to their sauces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then we split the scallops and wild sole (which were not over-cooked and rubbery as too often happens in Paris) as well as sides of spinach and Joel Thiebault veggies (which frankly could have come from Monoprix we agreed).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 For finales we had the millefeuille and crepes, which were, rather standard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With a bottle of blurry Bordeaux, incredibly bad rolls for a place that has products from celebrated sources - Thiebault/Desnoyers/Poujaran/Bordier/Cantin/etc., OK coffee and a soiled table cloth redeemed by a cool water pitcher for unbottled water, our bill ended up at 90 E.

Go?  Short answer, en famille and for good chow as reasonable prices, indeed.  My culinary-expert guest said that I must do essays on places with various price points (the 6 Paul Bert and the Bistrot de Breteuil being about the same (80-90 E) as yesterday's disaster at the Royal Turenne and places to take kids and old folks to (here) and I'll put it on my life list.

Le Royal Turenne in the 3rd: The worst meal of the week, decade, century?

 

-1.0 Le Royal Turenne, 24, rue de Turenne in the 3rd, 01.42.72.04.53 (Metro Chemin Vert) is open 7/7 and I confess I went there because it's a Saturday, I was hankering for some traditional food in a traditional place and it was recommended in the Figaro blog by one "Le pote âge."  I entered after my invitee - took one look around and said "Tourist Trap."  And it was, but for French tourists and locals who filled it up and loved it, absolutely loved it.  Go figure!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OK, let's get this over with expediously:

- Her onion soup was cold and filled with bread; she had one sip.

-My herring with potatoes were standard out of the can.

-Her 5AAAAA Andouilette, which the waiter wanted to be sure she knew what she was getting into, was pure Metro (despite his saying "Oh Madame, it's the very best - 5 AAAAA") and she who is in the food trade, took one look at the frites and said "frozen."

-My turbotin had a nicely crisp skin but was tasteless and sat in a bed of pink sludge with (REDEEMING FEATURE) spinach.

-The Cote d'Auvergne was OK once it opened up, the bread was, how do you say - worse than pathetic? -and the coffee OK.  The bill = 79.90 E.

Go?  Well the French certainly do.  Jeez Louise.

Pouic Pouic in the 6th: "Ordinary," I'd say, said one of my new Brazilian acquaintances.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.0 Pouic Pouic, 9 rue Lobineau in the 6th, 01.43.26.71.95, closed Sunday dinner and Mondays (Metro: Mabillon); my Franco-American friend whom I've known here since 1953 entered and immediately asked "Why did you choose this place?  It's empty and all the other places on the street are full."  I explained that (1) it was new and interesting sounding, (2) it was on my "list" and (3) a poster on Chowhound was curious if anyone had been.   "Huuuummmm," she said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We both had the escargots in little pastry shells that were quite tasty, then she had St Pierre in a broth of chopped veggies ("minestrone") and I had veal kidneys in a wine sauce on a puree.  I realized I'd lost her when she compared my rognons to those prepared with mustard by her companion; and she was right; much as I tried to justify them as another preparation, they were not as good as our life partners' preparations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To get the meal back on track, we shared a tart of the day, this of figs, which were quite OK.  With that, a bottle of bio Cotes du Rhone Nouveau, no bottled water and two coffees, our bill was 88 E (dB level 81.1)

Go?  Well, on my way out a young Brazilian couple got up out of their chairs and said "Excuse us, but that was a most interesting conversation you had at your table."  Oh oh, what was it?, the discussion of Hiliary Clinton bashing by the Republicans, my saga of getting my "new" top-loading washing machine working, the discussion of gun-control and mental illness, the extraordinary level of "morosite" reported in Le Monde or our dispute about the wars we Americans keep getting into and the dictators we keep supporting?  I chose not to ask, but asked what was their verdict on their meal here after a week in Paris.  "Ordinary" they both agreed.  I seconded that.

Le Cap in the 17th: But you never eat ethnic food in France John!

5.8 Le Cap, 42 blvd Periere in the 17th, 01.44.40.04.15, closed Saturday lunch, Sundays and Monday nights, Bus #53, is located where the great Clocher de Periere used to be before the brothers-in-law took off for other ventures.  So the feng shui or karma, depending on your frame of reference, was auspicious and I kinda liked the idea of eating French food prepared by a South African chef (the Cap in its name refering to the Cape of Good Horn or maybe Cape Agulhas).

In any case, the carte looks like an average French one except for a South African vinegar, wines and the special of today - the national dish - bobotjie or bobotie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I started with a spectacular dish of "risotto-type" orzo made with creamy chicken broth, coriander, curry and horseraddish with strips of dried beef and cheese on top.  What was amazing was that the flavors were intermingled and the whole was 100 times better than the parts.  Then I had the national dish, a sort of quiche/meatloaf/baked egg and hamburger casserole with bland yellow rice and warmed apricots and sliced almonds.  Quite frankly, if this was what the Boer Wars or apartheid or jailing Nelson Mandela was all about, I'd just as soon eat mush, which this sort of was, firmed-up.  In any case, dessert moved us back to French soil with a fine baba au rhum with pineapple slices and ice cream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With a 1/2 bottle of Beyerskloof Pinotage wine, nice bread, good coffee and terrific little chocolate strips, my bill was 50.50 E.

Go?   Ah.  Hem.  Well.  I dunno.  Maybe, if living or working out here, have never had South African food (I have not been south of Nairobi) maybe, but it's not the destination resto that the Clocher was.

Le Martel in the 9th: Metro Food + Truffle Oil Spray = Yech.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1.0 (for the bread, fries and wine) Le Martel, 3, rue Martel in the 9th, 01.47.70.87.56, Metro: Chateau d'Eau, is a place found by my great friend, the Chinese agitator, as a back-up for Restaurant Blah-Blah a few feet away when it didn't answer the phone.  It looks like a thousand other crummy bistros circa 1950, with 9 confusing "menus" and a carte full of couscous and tagines.  I entered before her and thought I must be in the wrong place, so I went up & down the street and saw nothing else except the place next door - the Soul Kitchen - hummmm, maybe we should'ave gone there.  But no, she assured me, reliable sources (whom she's never actually eaten with) reported it was good, it looked good to her and it was listed in Zagat's.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ordered salads that looked and tasted suspiciously like the same, except my (out of season) asparagus was double the price of her lentils - but both had this strange taste - what was it?  Where is Randy nowthat I need him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For mains, she had the magret and I the sweetbreads and you know what - they looked and tasted suspiciously like the same, except my dish was double the price of hers - but both had this strange taste - what was it?  Got it?  Truffle oil spray; yech!  To give them their due, despite the braised endives being subordinary, the fries, wine and bread were quite good.

Our bill = 83 E - What?  For a meal 0001% the quality of that at 6 Paul Bert.  A shanda.

Go?  I'm may have been trained as a psychiatist but they didn't teach me why locals would go to a place like this with this level of food - plus there was no door-knob on the exit door from the toilet.