Auberge Pyrenees-Cevennes in the 11th: “lazy food” my host says, “ho-hum” say I, and the old Grossigner joke.

5.0 the Auberge Pyrenees-Cevennes, 106 rue de la Folie Mericourt in the 11th, 01.43.57.33.78, (Metro: Got me), has been around for a hundred years, but has a new chef, Pierre Negrevergne, from among other place the Terrasse Mirabeau, so my famous food critic/TV star/restaurateur friend was willing to accompany me there to see “whasssup.”  When I arrived, the place was packed, mainly with food friends of his who he introduced me to.  Everyone seemed to be having a most jolly time.

A look at the carte revealed what we both expected, “old boy, old school” stuff, ok, that’s why we came.  “When we’re you here last, 100 years ago?” He asked.  “Nah, 30.”  I longed for the cassoulet with crust in an aged Creuset pot plunked in front of you, but no longer alas.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First off, he had celeri remoulade with slices of smoked duck breast and salad that he ate every morsel of, while I struggled to finish 1.5 oeufs mayo with nice potato crisps.  Okay but no surprises.

Then, while he had raved about their blanquette de veau, he had what looked to me as an overcooked androuillete with classic purée and I had what I hadda have, the cassoulet, but no longer served a table, instead delivered sizzling in a flat pan on a side-table and spooned onto ones plate.  Ok, I’m not a stickler for tradition.  But, but, how shall I say it gently, politely, in this Age of Trumpian insults, it was lacking in ahhh, character (I can buy a can of cassoulet at my Franprix that’s about the same.). And here we come to the old Grossinger joke actually turned upside-down - “the food is bad but that’s made up by there being so much of it.”

Our bill, well the bill for normal people having the two 36E “menus”, a bottle of wine and a coffee would be 100€ but we had a second Gamay to celebrate both our escapes from dreaded medical fates so it was 130€, if I spied it correctly, since my host insisted on paying.  Db’s were so astoundingly low I didn’t measure them.

Go?  It is what it is, now, 30 years ago, 50 years ago, etc, etc.  You've been warned.