3.0 Plume, 24, rue Pierre Leroux in the 7th, 01.43.06.79.85, closed Sundays and Mondays, (Metro: Vaneau) was a place I went by a month ago, looked at, liked its looks and went in to get a business card. So it was with great anticipation (especially after reading the Big Boys' reviews) that I reserved for my two favorite food friends and I for today. Across the street is a building with a cockroach over the door - whoa!, that should have told me the jinx was in. I was a bit early and got a most warm welcome from Madame who allowed me the choice of tables. We assembled and the carte and the "menu" looked terrific and wines from 20 E and up were interesting. But at this point, the problems began.
Because I was early and knew the wine preferences of my pals, I ordered up a white for R. and me. It arrived, I was offered a taste and I approved. Then upon arrival of my friends I ordered a bottle of red and they poured a huge pour, no tasting, in JJ's glass; I could see R. visibly cringe, take out his notebook (he's a blogger too) and begin to note the problems. Oh, Oh!
We all three ordered the mushroom soup (Mistake #1), thinking it would be mushroom soup; after two sips JJ said "It's strange, like eating dirt" and I connected the dots in my culinary brain and said "they put truffles or truffle oil or truffle oil spray, in, I've never liked the taste." "That's it" they both said "we agree"; and we soldiered on through this rough patch awaiting a brighter tomorrow.
For our mains, my two buddies had the lieu noir which R. declared "tasteless, without salt" and I agreed; and I had a tough piece of marget, overcooked, R., a chef, said it was the worst cut of duck breast anyway (I let it slip, thinking that I didn't asked for it undercooked, thus - my bad) and the hearts of artichoke's tasted like turnips to two of us.
OK, time for dessert. We waited and waited and waited for the "cartes" and I wrote "SLOWNESS" down. When they appeared my camera went on strike; R. had decent enough aged mimolette, JJ had decent enough pineapple, fresh cheese and line and my camera double pictured JJ's and eliminated my balls of chocolate (75% Zambian) and passion fruit (originally deemed to be mango) ice cream, which actually saved my meal at least.
Our bill, with 2 bottles of wine, no bottled water, OK bread and coffee, was 138 E for 3 or 92 E a couple.
Go? Well, the dream catcher in the toilet put an end to my dreams about Plume; I don't know what the Big Boys found so alluring here. Except the sound level of 70.9 dB
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