Aux Deux Amis - Is That a Herring On the Floor or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Following two immensely satisfying return visits to La Table D'Eugene (but was it us four English speaking diners that led to the 25€ 'mistake' charged for the wine?) and Lilane (a hidden gem if ever there was one), it was time for something completely different, as in the retro-hipster wine bar Aux Deux Amis, unimposing facade sitting right there on rue Oberkampf for all to pass without a double-take. Nonetheless, ADA caught my attention when it won Le Fooding's 2010 award for 'Meilleur Petit Luxe'- best small luxury, a clever and not inaccurate way of describing this tiny little bistro. To wit, here's Le Fooding's English synopsis in a nutshell:

'Take a 70's-like bistro, put smart wines on the counter, cook classic radishes or modern wasabi codfish, add a former waiter of Le Chateaubriand: you get the perfect new food hang-out of the year.'

Well, as it turns out, I obviously wasn't the only one for whom that assessment struck a resounding chord. By the time the Moose and I arrived at an early 7:30 p.m. on a Wednesday evening, the place was packed with young and up Parisians, some sitting, some standing, but about as jam-packed as a small storefront bistrot can be. The entire interior seemed to be wallpapered in mirrors, bathed in yellow flourescence. It took about 15 minutes for us to be guided to the back - and when I say guided, I mean, a narrow path was cleared so that we could traverse the room - no, it's not there - back to the front, yep, there it is, your reserved table, between the window and the long marble bar. I should add, 'table' is probably an exaggeration - the little round cafe table was more of a nightstand, but neither Moose nor I was phased to the least, having imbibed a few whiskeys at that little Rhum Marin bar on rue St. Maur between ave. Republique and Oberkampf, where, you won't believe this, the laid-back owner plays some decent jazz compilations.

It didn't take long to be served at ADA, even given the tumultuous atmosphere. We started with three tapas dishes picked randomly after the waiter read the list of about 12 possibilities from his little scratchpad: piquillos, moules, and St. Jack panais. A pot of vin rouge (19€) arrived when the bartender stretched out to reach our table--as it turned out, our food arrived in similar fashion--which was a lot more sensible than asking our waiter to make any more trips to our table than one could humanly navigate through the crowd. (It was only later that I noticed that the 'carte' was scrawled on one of the mirrors next to the bar, but have a look at the adjoining photo and tell me if you could have ordered from that.) The wine and three tapas plates and bread challenged the miniscule table more than one should have asked, but we managed a fine balancing act and thoroughly enjoyed round one. Simple dishes, but fine quality, with a little bit of panache thrown in by whoever prepared the dishes. About midway through the food and wine, Moose sat back contentedly and, taking in the room, just cooed, 'This is why I love this city.' I know what he meant.

By the time I circumnavigated my way back from the 'rooms', I was happy to see that Moose had taken the initiative to order round two, which again consisted of three choices: Hareng pomme a l'huile, bourrata tapas (a very tasty and fresh Italian cheese, made from mozzarella and cream), and a salade de choux. I should explain, Moose and I were going moitie-moitie on each of these dishes, so when it was my turn to have a go at the herring, I looked at the plate and immediately wondered where my half of the herring was. When Moose explained that it was actually lying on the floor under the table, it was at that point that I realized that our functionally-challenged table had met its match. Nonetheless, the remaining garnishes were very tasty, and another day, I am sure, I will be able to taste the accompanying herring. The tally for two pitchers of wine and six tapas selections came to a reasonable 70.50€.

An inexpensive prix-fix lunch gives way to a tapas-style dinners, so if you're looking for more of a sit-down full-course meal, lunch is your better bet. Still, if you want a truly Parisian experience, go for the evening's tapas. It's not haute cuisine, but I don't think you'll regret it. And go when it's packed and jammed, because, well, it's just more fun that way.


AUX DEUX AMIS

45 rue Oberkampf
75011 Paris
tel. 01 58 30 38 13
website: none

Yam 'Tcha - Singin' In the Rain

First things first, and most importantly: the food at Yam ‘Tcha is great. Diminutive co-owner (with husband Chiwah) Adeline Grattard, via L’Astrance and Hong Kong, prepares creative, delicate, and sometimes sublime Asian/French fused dishes in the open kitchen just to the right of the entrance of her storefront restaurant Yam ‘Tcha. This was a dinner Co. and I were looking forward to for 1-1/2 months, the lead time necessary to luck out with a reservation, once they start accepting them more than a month in advance. For good reason – you could barely cram 20 diners into the two tiny rooms that comprise the restaurant, along with the aforementioned tiny kitchen up front, a tea bar, and a phone booth-sized bathroom.

The size of Yam ‘Tcha, or lack thereof, may have been one reason why our eagerly anticipated evening got off to a rocky start. Arriving 15 minutes in advance of our reservation, not wanting to put the latest wave of transport strikes to more of a test than necessary and not all that enthusiastic about loitering around Les Halles in the pouring rain, we were ready for food, drink, and drying off. Unfortunately,
we got none of the above. We were brusquely informed that the staff wasn’t yet ready or appropriately dressed and were duly sent back out into the pouring rain. Not that it was my responsibility or anything, but I did my best to defend this action to Co., who was shall I say a bit hot under the collar, as we took a glass at the bar of a nearby restaurant. My arguments, though, were pretty hollow. I mean, it was already after 8 p.m. when we arrived, and I’ve already seen girls get dressed, so what would have been the problem with sitting us at a table with a warming glass of tea on the house? At more than 200 euros for the meal, let’s face it, they could afford it.

As for the meal, you know the drill. Prix fixe menus at 85 euros a pop, consisting of two entrées, two plates, a cheese dish, and dessert, all chosen by Adeline for the evening. However, you do have a choice when it comes to drink – a selection of different wines (40€ per person), teas (30€ per person), or wines/teas (40€ per person) for each plate. None of these sounded like an appetizing deal for me, so I asked for the wine menu and selected a 2007 Langedoc for 40€. But you can’t get too far without tea at Yam ‘Tcha (literally, ‘drink tea’; Chiwah is purportedly an expert, and one staff member spent the entire evening preparing various herbal concoctions at the bar to my right). Thus, we were started off with a Chinese variety that did nothing to soothe my sour mood. I admit, I am not a connoisseur or enthusiast of tea, and our free cup of tea tasted to me like the usual tea served at any typical Chinatown venue. Tea was followed by an amuse bouche consisting of a subtle bowlful of bright green cresson soup, in which a succulent oyster was floating along with some lardons. Along with the wine, I was feeling better already.

Doing the little things wrong, part 2. As our cresson soup was served the server promised that I would not leave without a listing of the offerings for the evening, after I delicately explained how I have difficulty remembering the complicated descriptions of the various plates. It is nice to be able to relax without having to scrawl what turns out to be unreadable gibberish on paper in preparation of my review. Well, as it turns out, what with all the drink and good food, and the opportunity to compliment Adeline as we moved toward the exit, I ended up leaving without that list. This is something the staff should not have allowed to happen, after promising that this would indeed be delivered. But then, despite their apparent attentiveness and concern, there was just something that was not quite genuine about the staff. So without the details on paper or remaining in my memory banks, what you end up with is an expurgated, incomplete description of the various courses. Here goes.

- Coquille St. Jacques (2 large sized, succulent scallops), algue, emulsion, pomme de Terre cuites partiellement

- Foie gras (poached), tomate, sauce sucrée, calamars – a definite highlight

- Dorade, delicately sitting on a bed of steamed Asian vegetables

- Veau (Co.) / tofu (me) served on a mound of brilliantly cooked aubergines (vapeur, 2 sauces de soja, gingembre, poive de Szechuan)

- Fromage

- Cheesecake + figue + fruits (gingembre, framboise), served with a bowl of ananas + ?

Pretty vague, I realize, but then the menu changes every night, so you’re not going to get this anyway. I’ve included some photos of dishes previously uploaded online, so you get the general flavor.






Although the evening got off to a damp start, we were warm, satisfied, and tipsy by the end of the dinner, and who can ask for more? Yam ‘Tcha’s prices have distinctly increased since receiving Michelin star #1, so don’t believe those 45-65€ ranges you see at other sites. If you go with one of the special wine/tea tastings and throw in coffee at the end, you can expect to pay more than 300€ for two (if that’s a turnoff, you might want to try the more affordable lunch). Opting instead for the bottle and no café, we checked out with a reasonable 212€ tab. Those extra 2€, by the way, were charged for the couple glasses of mineral water Co. asked for along the way, part 3 of how to get the little things wrong.

So there you have it. Yam ‘Tcha gets the big thing – the food – more than right. But those little customer relationship details are enough to keep me from having any great yearning to return anytime soon.

YAM 'TCHA
4 rue Sauval
75001 Paris
tel. 01 40 26 08 07
No Website!

The Archaeology of Eating

A bit off the beaten track, but earlier today I received an interesting item from my friend Will Jarvis, world's leading expert on time capsules.



And this emailed analysis from the noted British anthropologist Brian Durrans:

Since experimental archaeology is already widely practiced, excavating a site a mere decade old cannot make ordinary sense but seems to be a further gimmick to keep alive the original gimmick of the trenchside banquet itself. Any activity that takes place beside a purpose-dug trench carries strong associations of evil intent, which I suppose could add to the fascination even if most people can't quite put their finger on it. The French and sumptuary cuisine epitomise Pierre Bourdieu's classic studies of 'distinctions of taste' as social markers, and all those films in the 1960s and 70s by Bunuel and others (Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, etc.) in which patterns of eating were metaphors for social (dis)order; but the only purpose I can think of for the (premature) excavation of what was in any case originally a staged event trenchside is to refocus attention on the ephemerality of bourgeois foodways, which is increasingly fascinating to people - witness the enormous growth of cooking programmes and publishing - by exploiting popular interest using latest forms of communication technology. There would for instance in this case be no point in re-excavating if its only expression were in print media. But it all rehearses the time capsule theme.

Aside from the social science perspective on Spoerri's project, I think it's useful to keep in mind that Spoerri is presumed to be an artist. So his buried repast can be viewed as a performance art work as well as a look into the ancient customs of the 1980s. And in my meanderings through the bars, restaurants, and cafes around the world, I've come across some photographers of food who are doing some amazing work transforming food into permanent art. In Turku, Finland I happened to stumble upon Seilo Ristimäki, one of Finland's leading advertising photographers. Seilo heads the Iloinen Liftari Studios, and is responsible for some breathtaking food photos. You can check out his site here.