John Talbott's Paris

La Reine Mer in the 11th: Good Fish, excellently prepared, in a tiny space.

7.0 La Reine Mer, 1, rue J-P Timbault in the 11th, 01.43.55.29.06, closed Mondays (Metro: Oberkampf) advertises itself as a "healthy food" place, a poissionerie, traiteur, takeout and restaurant, all of it true but when it says “good for groups” it’s stretching the point, since there are only two tables with two chairs and the other dozen places are either against a tile wall or on stools at the counters.  But I don’t want to quibble.

Because a look at the fish in the vitrine and plates served next to us looked superb.  We both started off with gravlax which didn’t have the Scandinavian dill sauce I love so much but never matter, it was superb product.  The my friend had the citeaux, nicely fried and I a cold poulpe salad with too many potatoes for me in a nice vinegar sauce.  I plunged on with a dessert of cucumber and pomegranate seeds, partly out of curiosity, who’s ever heard of such a thing?, and there’s a reason why.  It was totally weird.

Our bill, which my food writer friend pointed out, listed all our dishes as tapas, thus avoiding, she posited, the necessity to have accompaniments.  With a bottle of wine and one of fizzy water and a coffee, the damage came to 63€ a couple.  Db’s were 76.7

Go again?  It’s very good but it’s not a formal meal place, which I suspect most of my millions of followers want in Paris.  But if you’re  scheduled for a huge formal French dinner, it would be an ideal seafood lunch.

Oh, and it has what must be the last “Turkish Toilet” in the country.

Le Bar des Pres in the 6th: bait and switch twice.

Ok, so when I read in December 2016 that Cyril Lignac, whom I’ve hated since “ Oui chef” had opened n Asiatic-inclined bar next door to his primo place Les Chardenoux I called to reserve.  I thought I had reserved at the Bar but when I showed up - “Non, non, Monsieur” “you have no reservation, it must be next door” So I go next door and indeed, that’s where it was and where I ate a surprisingly normal but not exciting meal, despite my prejudices about the Chef.  But eating at the Bar has been nagging me in the head ever since.  This week I read a review by the reliable jdd critic, Aurelie Chaigneau, that glowingly gave it a 8/10, whoa, that got my attention.

6.9 Le Bar des Pres, 25, rue du Dragon in the 6th, open 7/7, 01.43.25.87.67  (Metro: ummm, no, but bus #95) is a really cool place with a terrific staff but one look at the carte tells you this is a cocktail and sushi place, hardly just Asiatically-influenced. My two pals had just come back from a trip to Japan and said “Whoops, were not quite ready to have more Japanese food.” Unfortunately, I had already ordered some wine (white, which was followed by a red, this being a “Jack Spratt” couple, you know, “one eats no fat, the other no lean”.  So we couldn’t easily escape to my fallback place Le Dragon.  Ok, suck it up and make the best of it.

All the dishes, except the sushi and sashimi were not small, but medium sized plates “to be shared,” so we had the poulpe (hated by one as tough, rubbery), a galette with the thinnest layered crab imaginable and slices of terrific ripe avocado, yellow tail tuna (that’s what it said in French), spicy tuna maki and then three mouchi balls, followed by one dessert - which is now lost to history.

Our bill, I dunno.  One of my friends insisted, indeed demanded that he pick it up.  His companion shrugged at me when I remonstrated, as if to say “it’s not my call.”  The db level came out at 71.8.

Go back?  Ahhhh.  Hum, ok.  The bait and switch in my title refers to our order of the red wine.  They were out of what we ordered, “would we like the Beaujolais at only x more €? “ “No we would not.“ When everyone in the civilized and Western world, Russia and China has a three in one printer, the technology which costs 100€ at Darty, has been lost on Cyril Lignac.

Oy, as we say in the 18th. Maybe PDG, inside joke, Pretty Damn Good not CEO.

Les Fables de la Fontaine in the 7th: Overpriced and undersalted; 1 Star?, How far the mighty have fallen.

When I heard that Julia Sedefdjian had departed Les Fables for her own place Baieta (which I liked a lot) but her sous chef had taken over “effortlessly” said one critic, I thought “I’ve gotta see this.”  And so I convinced one of my complicit and compliant pals to indulge my curiosity.  And yes, there was a guy washing his shirt in the Fontaine.

4.9 Les Fables de la Fontaine, 131 rue St Constant, just kidding, St Dominique in the 7th, 01.44.18.37.55 (Bus: 80), was full of Asians when I entered (a good sign in my estimation, because they’re the first to know what’s good in town.). A look at the 52€ “menu” did not thrill me, note that a few months ago I was overwhelmed by Julia Sedefdjian’s cooking here.

First off we got a cold pea soup with wasabi, much like yesterdays, oddly at Pilgrim, and cheese puffs, bread and butter that were ok.

Then my friend had the perfect egg with marinated mushrooms and soup that my friend said after the fact badly needed salt.  A plus, it came in a cool hollowed out burl but you cannot eat wood. Then he had a squid ink encrusted piece of  cod that was well, a squid ink encrusted piece of cod and I a tasteless bourride which came a bit to life once I asked for and doused it with salt.

For desserts he had a sable with strawberries and I had chocolate with pistachio, both of which were good, leading me to suspect Julia Sedefdjian had left her great pastry chef behind.

Our bill, with a bottle and two glasses of Voignier, which they doubled the cost of, until we brought it to their attention (PS: the waitladies were sloppy, the waitguy, full of elbows and the pantry space for the staff horrible) was 151€ which for a 1 Star restaurant is ok, but this was below any stars.

Go back?  No way.  PPS. My friend asked me to highlight the need for salt and pepper put on tables.

 

 

 

Pilgrim in the 15th: “Perfect, too perfect,” now where did I see that before?

So, I never, well hardly ever, read my reviews of restaurants and chefs who have moved on elsewhere because who knows whether they swept the floor for a week or truly cooked the food for 10 years.  Thus I entered Pilgrim with no preconceptions about Hideki Nishi and his service at the Neige d’Ete. As you will see, my inclination was pretty silly. 

When I saw that Pilgrim had opened a couple of months ago, my thought was not about whether it referred to Plymouth Rock or Compostela but recalled “Whoa, take’er easy there Pilgrim,” uttered famously 18 tImes by the John Wayne character in “Who Shot Liberty Valence.”

7.1 Pilgrim, 8, rue Nicolas Charlet in the 15th, 01.40.29.09.71, closed Sundays and Mondays (Metro: Pasteur) is in a site that has very bad feng shui or karma or whatever, the last time I was here for the dumplings and caramel ice cream, the seats were ripped, the dishes overpriced and the chef (Philippe Detourbe) too full of himself to realize it (On the other hand to his credit, he resuscitated himself in Yerres).  Anyway, today, it’s totally redone with untorn seats and an open kitchen with 5 chefs, three of them Japanese.

 

At lunch it’s supposed to be 40€ for 4 courses but of course, four turns into seven, of which the first two were green and light; a petit pois soup with rice crackers in a wasabi/mustardy sauce and a perfect egg in green sauce that also was spicy.

My friend, who has lived all over the world, including Japan, and I, split the 3-2-2 menu, starting with asparagus and a tataki of mackerel, quite nice.

Then he had the chicken cooked two ways and I had the peche du jour, an undercooked daurade.  At this point my friend said “Excellent, John, good choice.”

 

Our desserts were a deconstructed swirl of lemon tart and wild strawberries wrapped in a pistachio thing.  Then of course came the mignardises, mini macaroons and mini madeleines. 

 

Our bill with a bottle and glass of wine, a carafe of house-filtered water (2.50€, which I thought was gilding the lily) and 2 coffees (again charging 1€+ for the noisette seemed to be pushing their luck.)

Go?  Well, it was perfect, how can I find fault?  Precisely because it was too perfect, no guts, no soul, no comfort.  On my way home, I looked up where and when I’d said that before - bingo - December 2, 2014 “Perfect, too perfect” at the Neige d’Ete. Gotta start reading my own utterances.

Le Petit Panisse in the 11th: my dining partners will be back, me too.

 

6.9 Le Petit Panisse, 35, rue de Montreuil in the 11th (Metro: Faidherbe-Chaligny, open 7/7, 01.43.71.37.90, was termed “un vrai troquet de quartier” and it is that indeed.  I entered very late and realized the hard-back chairs would be intolerable for my poor back - no problem, they immediately switched us to a very comfortable banquette - that’s +1 point right there.  Then using the wine list we were given, my wine-expert friend tried to order one, a second and then I think a third, to no avail.  In these days when everyone has a 100€ three in one printer, this was astonishing, take away that 1.

My friends ordered a cabecou with olive oil and a salad with smoked pork and I had a generous portion of palourdes in garlic and herb broth - they were exceptional.

Then they had the octopus and fish n chips and I had a spicy ragout of lamb with new potatoes and wild asparagus (unpictured) that was quite, quite tasty.  (I was not, however, impressed with the bread to soak up the sauces I had.)

Finally I ordered the dessert of the day, a rhubarb clafoutis, which all three of us finished off.

Our bill, with a bottle and glass of wine, no bottled water but 2 coffees was 120.40€ or 80.26€ a couple.  NB, the formula was 17€! which was some bargain.  db's = 83.7

Go back? It's up there on Colette’s list.  (PS Some cool street art.)

Berty in the 13th: “the best baba I’ve ever had.”

7.1 Berty, 124 Blvd Vincent Auriol in the 13th, 09.80.72.16.46, closed weekends and Monday dinner (Metro: National) is a place that makes known that it has an entire feminine team, inside and out.  In this neighborhood of horrible Soviet-era concrete towers, see below, it’s nice to find a raw wood décor inside.  The carte, while heavily tilted towards vegetables, does have “boy food.”

My blogger friend started with raw white asparagus with a garlic crumble and coques, superb, but my veal goyzas were way overcooked and barely saved by the citron cream.

Then she had citron-confited chicken with olives and greens and I had 4 huge fresh sardines with lovely new potatoes.

We finished up with tapioca with grapefruit and what she deemed the best baba in her life, quite a statement.

Our bill with a bottle and glass of Rhône, no bottled water, but two coffees, was 81.90€? Db’s 76.5

Go back?  If it weren’t so far for me (an hour plus on the bus) I would if only for their naan and other interesting sounding stuff.

Coinstot vino in the 2nd: how weird can a meal get? Pretty weird, even for an Italian one.

So, a very trusted food and wine friend said Coinstot vino had a new chef and while he’d only eaten there once and intended to eat there again 3 days ago he wasn’t able to get together a quorum/minion so I was on my own.  But it’s Monday and I have to find a place my friend from 1953 who lives/practices in the 4th can get to easily.  I telephone, no reservations at lunch “but if you come early it’ll be no problem.” Of course, for once my buses, 60 and 85, worked perfectly and I’m in the passage des Panoramas at 12h10.  

I wait and when the clock strikes 12h30, I ask for the carte des vins, “there isn’t one,” the wait lady says.  “I’ll send by the human wine list.”  Ha ha.  He comes over and I’m all set to hate him.  No wine list. In these days of computers and printers?  But rather than try to upscale me towards the top of the price list, he asks what I might like and in what price range.  Then he gives me two generous taste pours.  Ok, slate is wiped clean.

5.5 Coinstot Vino in the 2nd, 26 bis Passage des Panoramas, O1.44.82.08.54, (Metro: Grands Boulevards) closed Saturday lunch and Sundays, is a place I went to a long time ago with another wine guy and the food was French and not awful but not worth going back to at 5/10.  Today, though, the ardoise showed 2-3 (one a pizza)-3 and 3 pizzas.  Oh, oh, and my backups on the passage were all uninspiring- Tondo at Racines, more Italian, Canard et champagne, not too bad, and the Bistro des Panoramas, where I’d never been.  But I ordered some wine and waited and waited and waited. And read Figaro.

After an hour and a half I decided my pal had fallen, injured her hip or suffered an internet meltdown.  Well, it turned out it was all of the above.  Albeit not all today. So I ordered the calzone with ham and cheese and spicy early arrugula, 

And it was not bad for non-French food although I had to bring it to life with a lot of salt and spicy olive oil.

Having finished, I ordered a coffee and the check, and who appears?  My old friend.  She orders a pizza.  She likes it.  And the wine, as in Cana, seems to flow like water.

The bill?  Well I think I heard the wine guy who had no wine list say there was no check but it was 69€?  My friend antied up, which I didn’t protest my back reaching the point of no return.  db's were awful = 85.6

Go back?  For an Italian pizza place, it was not bad but not what I expected.  But there's always this place nearby.

Reviews of reviews: The week of May 28, 2018

Monday-Tuesday, in A Nous Paris, Philippe Toinard reviewed Les Saisons, same address in the 9th as was run by Jonathan Lutz and spouse, closed Saturday and Monday lunch and all day Sundays, which is run by a totally new team charging 18E for a formula at lunch and 23E for the menu consisting of items such a poached egg, pork belly and citrus dessert; while Jerome Berger reviewed the previously mentioned Sauvage in the 6th.

Tuesday in Le Fooding they reviewed the previously mentioned Au Petit Panisse in the 11th.

Wednesday, Emmanuel Rubin in Figaroscope, reviewed 5 places, giving 3/5 hearts to the Italian Uncino in the 9th.  Three places got 2 hearts : La Verriere at the Hotel Niepce, 4, rue Niepce, in the 14th, closed Saturday and Sunday at dinner but brunch those lunch hours, 01.83.75.69.21, where the weekday lunch is 25E, a la carte 50 E for items such as bio salmon, lieu jaune and a baba; the Brazilian Itacoa in the 2nd ; and the Thai Street Bangkok Roast & Beer.  Garnering one heart only was Les Belles Plantes in the 5th.  His Hache menu this week concerned the Bal de Marine in the 7th, by the banks of the Seine at the Port de Suffrin.

The Dossier this week by Alice Bosio, Colette Monsat and Hugo de Saint Phalle dwelt with Japanese chefs cooking French food and mentioned : Pages, Pilgrim, Dersou, Abri, A.T., Le Sot l’Y Laisse, Automne and Les Enfants du Marche.

Also on Wednesday, Heidi Ellison in Paris Update reviewed the well known Shan Gout.

Thursday in L’Express Styles, Francois-Regis Gaudry gave 3/4 to the Le café Noisette, 74 rue Olivier de Serres, in the 15th, 01.45.35.86.21 running one at lunch 25-35 E and tapas at night between 5-15 E, closed Saturday lunch and Sundays.  They also noted the Argentinian Loza and the previously mentioned Rive Droit.

Sunday in the jdd, Aurelie Chaigneau gave 8/10 to the previously mentioned Bar Aux Pres in the 6th; 7 to the Yiddish Blitz and 6.5 to the bowl-focused Ahipoke.
 

Hippopotamus Ternes/Wagram in the 8th: “John, you’re not serious, why did you go? And is it true you walked out without paying?"

Why did I go?

1. I was misled like Humphrey Bogart's Rick who went to Casablanca for “the waters.”.
2. It’s nice to slum around.
3. I wanted to see where the Trumpians eat.
4. I read that ‘ippo ‘ as it’s pronounced here, is trying to upscale itself.
5. I needed a horse fix.
6. I wanted to see if my 1-10 rating scale really works?

If you answered any or all of the above you pass. Congratulations!

5.9 (7.0 meat, -1.1 Admin =) Hippopotamus Ternes/Wagram, 46, rue Wagram in the 8th, open 7/7, 01.46.22.13.96, (Metro: Ternes) is one of the fast food chain restos in Paris that I've made fun of for years as the worst of French cuisine.  But when I read that at their Ternes/Wagram location they were upscaling their offerings and had horse on the menu, I had to go.

A look at the carte told me the only horse meat was in a steak hache, not what I wanted, but on the table was an advert for steak a la poivre, which I did want.  

My dining partner took one look at the carte and said “not much for vegetarians here?”  “Yup” I said.  “Want to split a salad?”  “Nope.”  “Ok I’ll have the bbq ribs with haricots verts.”  Her ribs were picked to the bone with much discrete French-Swiss finesse and I finished all my steak, which for me was a first

.

Then she had a fine cafe gourmand and I had what was called sabayon with apricots that was not sousvide, Metro or from the freezer.

The bill, John?  The bill?  I have no idea.  I have walked out of restaurants without paying four times in my life, once in Pamplona where I did run with the bulls and ate with Peter Fonda, to drop a name, when he was the intended victim of an old man’s dirty desire, once in Philadelphia when the kitchen blew up, once on the East Side when the husband and wife had an argument that closed down the kitchen and once in on the West Side after a bomb scare.  In this case, I hailed 5 waitfolks 5 times in 30 minutes and finally was told the computer etc., was en panne and after another 10 minutes I walked out.  If they want their money, since I’d made a reservation on line, they can find me. Db’s awful = 88.8

Go back?  It’s complicated.  The potato chips were great, the bread and fries blah, the wine and coffee good. Plus, the meat was surprisingly good, well sourced and beautifully cooked.  The desserts not bad at all.  Computers malfunction; so I cannot hold that against them much.  And despite my snobbism about chains, it wasn’t a bad meal at all.  A plus, a bus passed called Bustronomie came by.  Can’t beat that.

L’Elan 9 in the 9th: “it’s good” said my friend, the picker, but by me, there’s no pop, sparkle, fizz.

L’Elan 9, 113, rue du Faubourg Poissionniere in the 9th, 09.80.65.88.70, closed Sundays and Monsays (Metro: Poissonniere) is a place open on Saturdays, when my friend’s husband is off duty, is walking distance from their flat and I haven’t yet been to (a challenge).  I got there in record time and had plenty of it to sit, sip wine and read Le Figaro.  Note: the place has cool water carafes with an expensive design.

The menu is a pretty straightforward 3-3-3 with all sorts of signs saying, no gluten or stuff you’re allergic too, etc.

But I wasn’t wowed by the choices: quail egg on asparagus, radishes, or petit pois soup so two of us sat out the first course, which D. ordered what was really not a soup but a film of terrific petit pois with a fresh green salad and burrata.  

Then we had all three mains: the faux filet (sent back because it wasn’t saignant as ordered but over-cooked), a rouget cooked correctly with an incredible stack of Mac n cheese and a chicken Basque style that had a great tomato coulis.  The bread was ok but we had to ask for it.  But the pictures are wonderful, no?

To top the meal off we shared a lemon orange dessert and an interesting chocolate banana speculos one.

Our bill was 136€ which they took 5€ off due to the screw up in cooking the beef, making it 99.66€ a couple, even with a bottle of wine I pretty much had to myself and 2 coffees which were offered.  The db’s were 79.7 even before the kids started screaming.  And I’ll ding them also for the long waits between courses.

Go back?  My friends say they will, I’ll bet a nickel they don’t, the 9th has so many better places.