Paris Restaurant Musings at the End of a Decade

I promised to continue my tour of the rue Oberkampf restaurant scene and, as far as I’m concerned, a promise is a promise. A couple years ago, Le Café Charbon, a Paris institution and one of the oldest cafes in the capital, was beginning to do some interesting things with the food, although this has always been more of a drinking establishment than restaurant, hovering somewhere in-between neighborhood and trendy. I remember some decent lunches and a fairly understated but eclectic dinner menu, as I fuelled up before concerts in the groovy back room (the chandeliered Le Nouveau Casino). My last visit, sometime last Fall, suggests that they’ve given up on the food. Casual reigned, with burgers, salads, and the like ruling the day. Too bad, but I still consider it my first option in the area if I want to while away some hours chatting with a friend over drinks. Not the greatest selection of single malts, but what can I say, sometimes you have to slum it. And despite the comments online about Le Charbon being snobbish or apathetic or cold, well, if you can’t handle what often passes as Parisian warmth, there’s always Cleveland.

At any rate, a couple weeks ago, there I was in Le Charbon musing over the state of the world, humanity, and other sundry topics, with my Jamaican friend, Rastaman. I was in a Jack Daniels kind of mood and R-man was in a hot chocolate sort of mood – you can’t account for tastes – and so on we mused, both of us gradually warming up in our own idiosyncratic ways. Before the clock hit 8:30 p.m., we both realized that we had warmed up enough to start thinking about other needs, such as food, and with the words ‘casual’ and ‘cheap’ and ‘no reservation on a Friday night’ entering into our musings, we headed out the door and straight ahead, across the street to another Oberkampf institution, L’Occitanie. Only when I took a gander at the façade and awning did I have the odd impression of the something was happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones variety. There was the old reliable next-door neighbor, Chez Justine (oddly, all closed up for the evening!), and viola!, the name L’Occitanie up there in the upper right corner of the front wall. Not exactly the bright neon variety, I nonetheless felt assured that I hadn’t taken a wrong turn in Denmark, or something like that. As I later learned, this was L’Occitanie no more, having been replaced by a third Au Pied de Fouet location in the city during the Spring of 2008. Am I out of the loop, or am I out of the loop? Originally installed in in the 7th (45, rue de Babylone) some 150 years ago, a second Au Pied was inaugurated in the Latin Quarter (3, rue Saint Benoit) in 2007. And then there was a third, all specializing in southwest cuisine.

We squeezed through the body-challenged entrance to find a boisterous, packed room of Parisians doing what packed rooms of Parisians often do, happily eating, drinking, and conversing. Sans reservation, Rasta and I stood in the front for a short five minutes at which time a tiny square of a table suddenly materialized amidst the others and we squeezed in. I’m sure I’ve already commented about the close seating in many Parisian restaurants. Well, Au Pied gives new meaning to the word ‘close.’ Think intimate, think people at the next table sitting on your lap. But no one seemed to mind, so why should we? This is the sort of place that positively reeks of old Paris. Think simplicity, authenticity, cheap. My shrimp appetizer, for example, consisted of a half dozen whole, peeled shrimp lying naked side by side on my plate next to a glop of mayo. Not exactly creative, but with the Chinon and bread, guess what? This did the job. I followed this with a confit de canard ‘Maison,’ (10.50€), which arrived with the duck sitting on a bed of mashed potatoes, pieces of duck perfectly cook, falling without effort off the bone. Simple but hearty. Rastaman went with the supreme de volaille and had good things to say about the sauce (as in ‘this sauce is really good’). For dessert, we continued with the tried and true, a tarte Tintin and a daily special rhubarb tarte. All for the ridiculous price of 48€ (wine, one appetizer, two plates, two desserts, one café). No wonder they are packing them in like sardines.

It wasn’t much more than a week or two before the aforementioned foray along Oberkampf that I was back with the Moose for an impromptu dinner at L’Estaminet, about a block further along rue Oberkampf. This is another establishment that can best be described as friendly, young, and packed. So packed that, after a ten minute wait at the bar, we were reluctantly guided downstairs to a room that the waitstaff had hoped to close off for the rest of the evening. This was the first time since the smoking ban that I had been in the cavelike rooms in the restaurant and the first time I could actually breathe as I ate my meal. At L’Estaminet, there is more of an effort than you find at Au Pied to add a little creativity to the preparation of dishes and my verdict on this occasion was that the results are hit and miss. The hit was my risotto aux cepes et magret fumé entrée (7€), a big surprise, given that this dish has often been a big disappointment elsewhere (Oslo being the most recent I can recall). This was tasty and warming, with copious slices of magret and I would go back for that dish alone. My main dish, however, the nage St. Jacques et rougets, coulis de langoustine vapeurs et legumes (17€), was the reverse – a big disappointment for a highly anticipated dish. The sauce and diced vegetables overwhelmed the scallops and rouget, and by the time I was halfway through, I was bored.

Now just a hop, skip, and jump away from the new decade (the 10s?), out of curiosity I pulled out my old agenda for January 2000 to find out how I started the decade eating-wise. There it was, clear as day, one of my favorite bistrots in the 11th, not far from Oberkampf, but closer to Parmentier, Le Villaret. This is a restaurant that I sorely neglected this year, with only one visit since the new ownership arrived. This is definitely on my list to review for 2010.

Before ringing in the new, my hat (if I had one) is off to the meal of the year, personally speaking, at Ze Kitchen Galerie, during a recent dinner with Co. and our pardners from Texas, J. L. and Tina ‘Brigitte’ Marie. Unfortunately, without notes and without an updated menu at Ze’s website, I can’t provide a description of my entrée that would do it justice, but it was a slightly cooked piece of dorade with thinly-sliced pieces of ginger and mango. Intriguing, creative, delicious. For the plate, I opted for the canard de ‘challans’ and foie gras grilles, jus betterave, and ginger. Wow. One last time, year of the beet. And, of course, the white chocolate, wasabi, pistachio sauce, and green tea epic dessert. I almost forgot what a killer dessert that is. Almost.

A dinner with Co. at the Mark Singer restaurant La Cave Gourmande, came a close second. With my notes long since having disappeared (new year’s resolution no. 1: keep notes!), it is literally a meal beyond description. The restaurant with two names, two large rooms, and one petite waitress (Mrs. Mark Singer?), the meal was creative and pretty close to perfection. Details to come, after next visit, I promise. But that dinner at Ze Kitchen was at that level beyond perfection. I can’t wait to go back. Bring on the 10s, I’m ready.

CAFÉ CHARBON
109, rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 43 57 55 13
no website

AU PIED DE FOUET
96, rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 48 06 46 98
Website: http://www.aupieddefouet.com/France/Presentation/11eme

L’ESTAMINET
116 rue Oberkampf
Tel: 01 43 57 34 29
no website

MARK SINGER RESTAURANT LA CAVE GOURMANDE
10, rue du Général Brunet
Tel: 01 40 40 03 30
no website

ZE KITCHEN GALERIE
4, rue des Grands Augustins
Tel: 01 44 32 00 32
website: http://www.zekitchengalerie.fr

La Dînée and Bistro de Breteuil - Summer Seasonings, Part 2

A funny thing happened since my last posting: I woke up and summer was gone – a veritable chill is in the Paris air, my calendar says September—4th already!—the city is rubbing its weary sun-drenched eyes and waking up, the restaurants are opening, all is good with the world. I know, I must sound insane, but when it comes to summer, I say ‘good riddance!’ Paris is like deadsville, daddy-o, during the summer. All this is just a reminder that I better hurry up and finish my summer meanderings before they become irrelevant – I promised a “summer seasonings” part 2, and you’re going to get it.

Here I’ve got two more August restaurant visits for you, one good, one bad. The good one, I’m pleased to report, was very good. I promised Co. I’d try to go easy on the bad, so let me just say that the bad one was, well, bad.

First, the good news: La Dînée is one terrific restaurant. Not that this is new news for me and Co. If you check my ‘best of 2007’ installment, you indeed will find La Dînée listed. This is a restaurant we had visited 3 or 4 times in the past, always a good experience, but I had so much subsequent difficulty reserving—poor timing (holiday closings, renovations, etc.)—that I just sort of gave up. So it was with great surprise when I took a chance and telephoned a little past the mid-point of August and found the restaurant had just re-opened from its annual summer closing. Check out the accompanying photos, pirated from La Fourchette.com, and you’ll observe that this is a finely-appointed, but rather understated venue, just recently redecorated and rearranged. Not surprisingly, given the time of year, ours was one of only three occupied tables during the evening, so there was plenty of elbow room.

We went with the 35€ three-course menu. I enjoyed my appetizer of dorade salade with a Russian dressing and vinegrette sauce, but the clear highlight was Co.’s soupe de melon au gingembre with vegetables and gambas tempura. This was an inventive and impeccable dish – perfectly balanced, with the mutually reinforcing tastes of the melon, ginger, and shrimp tempura resulting in Co.’s curt but informative one-word review: ‘excellent.’ We both opted for fish as our main dishes – Co. had the salmon with potatoes, snails, and tapenade, the fish grilled to a crusty topping; I went with the espadon (swordfish) with vegetables, served cold ala marinèe. On paper (or should I say, computer screen), these dishes must sound pretty ho-hum, but trust me, they both were excellent. Desserts consisted of peche caramelise with a waffle and tea ice cream – that was one. The other was nougat glace with strawberries. I’m a sucker for nougat glace, but I had to agree with Co. that her caramel peach waffle tea ice cream concoction had the edge for inventiveness. An odd choice for red wine – a S. African bottle, Pepper Pot 2007 (27€). I was a little horrified when the waiter unscrewed the top, but it led to an interesting discussion about the trend, especially for imported wines, to forego the cork. To our surprise, our server (probably one of the owners) was strongly in favor of this trend, suggesting that it held the taste better. A topic for another installment, perhaps, but by the time our bottle was about 7/8s empty, we began to overhear a conversation that had started up between the patrons at the two tables across the room. Short story, they were sharing their favorable impressions of their dishes, so what the hell, I chimed in and talked up the melon soup. It was at that point when one of the two guys at the far table started to wax eloquently about the capaccino de morelles he had enjoyed during a previous visit, imploring our server to put it back on the next menu. I mean, this guy was in near ecstasy as he closed his eyes and pondered that dish. Maybe it was the time of year, the sparse clientele, whatever, but I ask you, when was the last time you visited a restaurant and a spontaneous conversation broke out among the customers about how great the food was? Case closed.

Now for the downer, the Bistro de Breteuil in the 7th. Located in a rather animated square (the place de Breteuil, which is actually round, making this a round square) strikes me as something of a Paris institution—packed terrace deep in the heart of summer and boasting one of the best deals in town: 38€ for everything. Everything, including three courses, a half bottle of wine per person, water, bread, coffee. I cannot deny that this is a good deal, but given the quality of the food, I’m reminded of that Woody Allen joke about a restaurant that one patron proclaims as having bad food and her companion pipes in, ‘and such small portions.’ My appetizer of tartar de bar would have been fine if it wasn’t accompanied by raw bean sprouts. Don’t get me wrong, I love tartare de bar and I love bean sprouts, but a suggestion to the chef: not together! True, I already was in a foul mood having been curtly rejected by the waiter when I asked for a table on the terrace (‘plein!’) and then, resting my menu against a lineup of a small vase with flower, salt and pepper shakers, and whatnot, aforesaid list of items proceeded to tumble off the table onto the floor like dominos. The small splash from the vase seemed to have reached the ankle of the woman at the table to my right. Did you ever go to a restaurant where your first impulse was to leave? Now you know how I felt.

For my main dish, I had a plateful of steamed gambas with a sort of hosein sauce for dipping. Overall, the gambas weren’t bad, but the accompanying vegetables –thin, long strips of carrot and zucchini –tasted as foul as my mood. Two bites was all I could fathom. Co. wasn’t nearly as critical as I was about the food, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what she ordered. I do know that she liked her dessert, and if Co. enjoys her dessert that tends to bias her experience of what preceded it. In science they call this a ‘recency effect.’ Co. also was lucky enough to be seated so that she faced the terrace, with its relatively young and finely appointed clientele happily pontificating as relatively young and finely appointed Parisians are oft apt to do. Me, I was facing the dimly-lit, 18th century dining room, where the clientele coincidentally also had that 18th century look. The patrons looked like regulars, as in regularly eating at Breteuil for the past 70 years. For some reason, I kept thinking of a geriatric all-you-can-eat Las Vegas hotel restaurant. Don’t ask me why. Anyway, Breteuil, I am sure, will continue to pack them in, young and old, long after the memory of that splashing vase has been purged from my memory. As it says on their card, ‘Les Bistros qui ont Tout Compris.’ And with a deal like that, who cares how big the portions are?


LA DINEE
85, rue Leblanc
75015 Paris
tel: 01 45 54 20 49
web: www.restaurant-ladinee.com
Total (2 menus + wine): 101 euros

BISTRO DE BRETEUIL
3, place de Breteuil
75007 Paris
tel: 01 45 67 07 27
web: www.bistrocie.fr
Total (2 everythings): 76 euros

Ze Kitchen Galerie Redux - Best Dessert in Paris?

A return visit to Ze Kitchen Galerie and I would have to say this is rapidly becoming one of my favorite dining spots in Paris. Nothing much to add to my description of the ambiance, design, service, and food quality as explicated in my February review, so I think Ze (can I call you Ze?) ages well. This time we (me & Co., that is) had the wall on one side and a couple of entertaining Brazilian girls on the other side, resulting in less of a sense of claustrophobia than experienced during the St. Valentine's visit. Anyway, one becomes accustomed to the sardine effect in many local restaurants, what with their particular predilection towards aligning square tables along the walls boxcar style.

This time around, we wrapped our taste buds around two formidable entrees. Co. won this round with her choice of the "crevette obsiblue" dish (21€), a minimalist preparation of shrimp, eel, and snails, with garlic and ginger enhancement. The French/Asian fusion emphasis of chef William Ledeuil hit a high note here, with the garlic and ginger adding a flavorful, but not overwhelming, boost to the seafood. My choice didn't hit as high a note, but given my guilty pleasures of powerful and contrasting flavors, I couldn't have chosen better with the Daurade marinee, the marinated fish accompanied by mango thai kelamenji, a thin slice of mango (21€). This dish had a strong citrony taste, no doubt a function of some unadvertised lime. When the waiter asked if the first course did the job, I was half tempted to add 'and I'll have whatever she's having' to my 'oui.'

On to the main course. Co. opted for the canard de challans confit-grille, jus teriyaki-grotte, an Asian-influenced preparation of slightly cooked duck (33€). Extremely tasty, but I prefered the more imaginative take on tempura; to wit, tempura de crevettes and blanc de seiche grille, marmelade d'aubergines, and vinegrette sesame (34€). The two large lightly battered shrimp mixed will with the thinly sliced, grilled cuttlefish, eggplant marmalade and sesame vinegrette. Two more thumbs up.

I know, dessert, the part you've been waiting for. If you've read my earlier review, you know where this is heading. Once again, like addicts waiting for their next fix, we'd been looking forward to a second go of the glace au chocolat blanc et wasabi (11.20€)(see photo at the top of this post). Now, I realize it would be presumptuous of me to declare that this dish is truly the best dessert in Paris because, well, I haven't tried them all, and though I may aspire to that objective, it is clearly beyond the realm of human endeavor. I do think any dessert with white chocolate already has an advantage over any challenger. But kudos to anyone who would imagine the combined effect of white chocolate and wasabi pastry, and, oh yeah, coconut milk, vanilla, green tea, crumble, and pistachio. Chef Ledeuil is that man. It may not be the best dessert in Paris, but I guarantee you will not be disappointed, and I also challenge anyone to find a better dessert in Paris. The prize? How about the recipe for the chocolat blanc et wasabi dish? Why wait? Here it is, fresh from the France Chef.tv website.




Now, if you can't read French, you can use the Google translator, and if you can't comprehend the resulting gibberish, I invite you to watch Chef Ledeiul's video preparation of the dish at the France Chef.tv site. Of course, if you can't understand spoken French, then you're sort of out of luck, just watch what he's doing and imitate it, or bring a French-speaking friend to your computer and you'll be fine. If you can understand French, you may, like me, get a good chuckle hearing the illustrious chef describe the process as 'tres, tres simple' with a straight face.

Dinner for two, with coffee and wine (2005 Madirin de Crampilh, 24€) - 162€


ZE KITCHEN GALERIE
4, rue des grands augustins
Paris 6th
tel: 01 44 32 00 32
website: www.zekitchengalerie.fr