Catching Ups and Downs: Part 1

Life is tough enough, do we really need Google to make it so difficult to access one's blog that was created before Google ruled the world?  Ok, cool man, or as the tax man really did say to me the other day: 'Zen.'  Wow, it's been a while and I blame my respite entirely on my day job.  So, if you're wondering where I've been, in this installment, I offer you 180 degrees (part 1) of a 360 degree recap, starting with some good old fashioned mama's home cooking:  NOT.

Mama Shelter

Way back around early November, I finally got the urge to check out the trendy Mama Shelter restaurant, situated on the ground floor of the trendy Mama Shelter hotel on rue de Bagnolet in the 20th and just across the street from one of my go-to venues for live music, La Fleche d'Or.  Mama's has long acquired Paris renown for its funky interior spaces, lively bar, pizza corner, and hip restaurant.  'Check' on funky interior decor, 'check' on lively bar, 'check' on pizza corner, but a decidedly 'thumbs down' on hip restaurant.  As for the funky decors, check out my photos.

Funky Mama Shelter decor 1

Funky Mama Shelter decor 2

Funky Mama Shelter decor 3

Funky Mama Shelter decor 4

Yes, the dark ceiling has a number of adages scrawled in chalk, including such deep musings as the following:

 Power is standing on a street corner without waiting for someone.

           Get out of my cloud.

Deep, huh?  About as deep as big Mama''s aspirations in the kitchen.
For a place that aspires to be so ostensibly cool, the menu offerings were decidedly dull on the evening that Co. and I made our visit (and probably all the other nights when we didn't, as well).
Below, the carte, followed by some food photos.

Mama Shelter's menu, Nov. 2013 (click to enlarge)

Burratta Tomates Cerises entree (14€)

The burratta was forgettable - not that anyone's could compare to that served at Aux Deux Amis, which I revisited a couple of weeks ago with the Moose.  The cerises were memorable - with so many, how could one forget?  Meanwhile, Co. was uninspired by her poele de champignon (13€).

Salmon snacke main dish (19€)

This actually looks pretty good, but to tell you the truth, I can't remember if this was my dish or Co's, and neither can she.  So it may have been good, but who the hell knows?

Plat du jour - some kind of fish and vegetables, take your pick (17€)

I know, I know, these photos suck, but then, so did the food.  (Actually, the place is so dark, you'll have trouble impressing your partner at the bar with all your stored selfies.)  Zen, man, zen.  Okay, the food wasn't that bad, but when it comes to Mama Shelter, you go for the decor, the lively bar action, and if you and your buds are up for group gourging on pizza, there's a special room set aside for that sort of happiness.  We downed our decent Pinot noir vieilees vignes (34€) and zenned back out into the Paris night without dessert or cafe at 97€.  Next question?

MAMA SHELTER

Address: 109 Rue de Bagnolet, 75020 Paris, France

Phone:+33 1 43 48 48 48

Website:  http://www.mamashelter.com/en/paris/restaurants/


Le Boudoir

This was a decidedly strange one.  The Moose, fully inspired by an earlier visit, suggested we check out Le Boudoir, a short block or two off the insanely crowded Champs Elysee.  I must admit, I was intrigued by the online carte, but nervous that it was in English, I guess a nod and blink to the hordes of tourists swarming around the fashionably ostentatious Champs Elysee shops.  By the time we arrived for dinner, only a few tables were taken, and we were seated next to a foursome of lovely young ladies finishing up what appeared to be a rollicking enjoyable early evening meal.  By the time we left, the place was filled with button-down male suits, hardly the touristy types, seriously huddled around their tables as if mapping out their strategies for their visits to a decidedly other kind of boudoir later that night.  My mind wanders, as it did at Le Boudoir, no doubt partly a function of the whiskeys I downed at a bar along the way.

The new seasonal Le Boudoir carte (click to enlarge)

I don't know what it is about the Moose, but he is the most gregarious person I know.  When we arrived at Le Boudoir, he asked for Stefan (manager?  owner?) and they greeted each other like lifelong pals.  Stefan spent some time at our table, just glowing about how the evening of our visit they were launching their fall/winter menu, which was why half of the items weren't available.  Don't worry, I didn't get it either.  The meal's a blur, but I remember ordering 'The famous poultry pie with duck foie gras - onion confit and foliage emulsion' because I wanted to find out what was so famous about it.  Stefan explained it is famous because care is taken to use only the freshest, most natural ingredients, which is fine by me.  I was less impressed by my dessert, the 'Black chocolate cream,' that would have worked a lot better without the bananas and with black chocolate cream.  Everything in-between is but a distant memory, but check out the photos below.  I do remember being surprisingly satisfied by the meal, however, although I'm not sure that I will return.  Still, if you're hanging out on the grand old C-E one evening and you want to check out something a bit off the beaten path (literally and figuratively) at fairly reasonable prices, you probably could do worse.

The famous poultry pie

Lightly browned scallops, risotto, red squash - fresh and succulent, no kidding

The Moose's choice: Quail stuffed with dried fruits and foie gras

Black chocolate cream - this one didn't work

Not to be forgotten, Le Boudoir includes the railroad car dining space, some more intimate private rooms upstairs (no, not those sort of rooms), as well as a 'cigars smoking room' 8-seater.  Now you've got the idea.

LE BOUDOIR

Restaurant & Wine Bar

Address:  25 rue du Colisée, 75008 Paris - France

Telephone:  01 43 59 25 29
website:  http://www.boudoirparis.fr/

Alain Milliat - It's In the Juice

It's a juice bar, it's a tea shop, it's an elegant restaurant, it's a boutique, it's a human being.  A person could go crazy, hypnotized by the shadow of the Eiffel Tower in the upwardly mobile 7th and coming across the  corner establishment on rue de Grenelle, Alain Milliat.  Yes, it is all these things, including a Telerama recommended stop for Saturday brunch with the 'mamies et papys.'

Four of us met up for dinner (on reservation, of course) a couple of rainy (aren't they all?) Friday evenings ago in our handsome attire, not really knowing what to expect.  What we found was a place that looked like this, and those are indeed Alain Milliat juices lining the walls (actually, I 'found' the photos as well, online):

 

As Co. and I awaited our dinner companions, we were chatted up, and chatted up, and chatted up, by the server who apparently was really lonely until we arrived.  Part of the chatting involved convincing Co. that she simply must try an Alain Milliat mandarine juice.  I would have joined her, but with so much alcohol in the world, who has time for juice, except on top of whatever I'm eating for dinner.  When I asked Co. earlier today for her assessment of said juice, she said, "It was good," then she said, "It was high quality," and then she said, "It was excellent."  The moral of this story, I guess, is that the AM juices really grow on you.  Fortunately, our dinner companions arrived just in the nick of time.  After some confusion about the 'menu degustation' vs. the ala carte selections, Co. and I opted for the menu and our companions ended up with half the selections we took, only twice as big, so I guess it evens out, except on the bill which turned out to be twice as expensive for us.  As my elegantly-scarved cohort later moralized, "It all evens out in the end."

The food was very good, which is all you really want to know anyway, am I right or am I right?  Well, in my humble opinion, you will probably not be disappointed, and may, depending on your whims, well be quite delighted.  First, the offerings:

And now, what some of the offerings looked like, decoded:

This colorful entree was the marinated lotte and it was terrific, so good that it's worth looking at a second time, with different lighting:

 

This all-natural mushroom dish was a creative preparation, although rather skimpy on the mushrooms, especially relative to the non-menu degustation plate.

  This delicate salmon filet was light and vaporized.

 

For my money, this canette and yams dish was the pinnacle.

 

A humble, yet satisfying, bonus cheese dish for the menu degustation, with a well-appointed confecture - bread, cheese, confecture, wine - could anything so simple be so French?

 More evidence that the young, creative neo-bistrot chefs of Paris (in this case, the Brit Jon Irwin) forego the traditional cake and tarte dessert offerings for more oddball glace, fromage, praline, etc. concoctions, and this one, with its - do I remember this correctly? - cucumber/cumin ice cream was very, very nice.

As mentioned, you get more dishes, but less quantity, with the menu degustation (65€), so if there are a couple things that really, really tempt you on the blackboard, go ala carte (34€).  One of our companions was quite impressed by the cauliflower risotto, which is not pictured here, mainly because I didn't want to embarrass her by leaning over her plate with my tablet camera.  We ripped through a couple bottles of a very fine Morellino di scansano, one of several reasonably priced reds on the wine menu (34€).  

ALAIN MILLIAT

159 rue de Grenelle

75007 Paris

tel: 01 45 55 63 86

Website: http://www.alain-milliat.com/en/the-restaurant

L'Apibo - Fresh Air and Breaking Glass

Last Friday night Co. and I ventured to rue Tiquetonne, the animated, pedestrian-oriented street in Paris's Montorgueil quarter to check out L'Apibo, a small venue across street from what appears to be a very popular pizzeria, amid a plethora of other cafes and restaurants.  This being a temperate evening in the waning weeks of the summer, we asked for one of the 10 or so tables on the sidewalk.  Our Thai hostess/owner/waitress (staff on vacation, we were informed) congenially discussed with us the absurd evening ritual of garbage collection - on rue Tiquetonne, not once, but twice - on a Friday evening when people are outside trying to eat.  She ruminated on the god-awful parking situation - thankfully, we took the metro - and how her unassuming moto was ticketed twice in the past week.  But otherwise, the street was more people than vehicles, the main form of transportation being the asundry baby carriages we espied as parents waited to be seated at the pizzeria.  Animated more than boisterous, except for the obnoxious guffaw coming from a pizzeria table of heavy drinking, but apparently harmless, Eastern Europeans. C'est la vie a Paris.

I remember reading another post about L'Apibo somewhere (now forgotten), with the author dubbing the restaurant as 'quasi-gastronomique' - I can't say I disagree.  As described at the restaurant's website, L'Apibo offers 'une cuisine d'instinct, curieuse et spontanée,' and I think you'll figure that one out even if you don't speak French.  Note that the description doesn't say 'fantastic,' 'unforgettable,' and 'super-fantastic,' but you can't have eveything.  Price/quality speaking, you could do worse.  Chef Anthony Boucher conjured up a very satisfying, quasi-innovative, summery carte on the night of our visit.  All washed down with a very good Corsican Sartene red (28€).  Grand total: 92€.

Not long after we were seated we were brought a refreshing amuse bouche in the form of a cold melon soup.  

Co. and I opted for the 3 course 32€ menu, selecting from among the options classified under the headings, 'pour commencer,' 'pour continuer,' and 'pour finir.'  There, you've just learned some more French.  The carte looked like this (click to enlarge):

A commencer:  Nearly seduced by the gambas, I ended up more intrigued by the daurade tartare, accompanied by vegetables, deli style pickles (hard to find in Paris), wasabi, and lime, the latter three being my Achille's (or is it stomach's) heel.  This was good, but nothing special until I hit the wasabi, which, when combined with the pickle, adhered to L'Apibo's promise of instinct, curiosity, and spontaneity.  Co., ever a lover of the foie gras, selected foie gras (and that's not a carrot, but a piece of melon you see).  On a warm night, these dishes hit the spot, even if they came up short of dazzling.  Meanwhile, a couple more hearty guffaws and rowdy back pats from our European neighbors across the narrow street at the pizzeria.

ALERT: Don't rush out to get your eyes examined, yes, my tablet camera failed me again and the photos below are blurry.  But consider this, if you drink a lot and then go to L'Apibo and keep drinking, this is probably what you food will actually look like.

A continuer:  The highlights of the meal fell in this category, with Co.'s bar on a bed of black rice (also hard to find in Paris), tandoori sauce, and eggplant caviar on one hand, and on the other, my stuffed encornet with blettes (chard) and pine nuts.  Both of us turned out to be reluctant to swap much of either dish and when we did, it was a jolt, with tastes apparently coming from opposite sides of the globe.  Meanwhile, some louder discourse from our European neighbors.

 

A finir: Summery selections, Co. went with the peaches and I went with the far healthier chocolate, both pretty decent.  Meanwhile, more yukking it up by our European neighbors across the narrow street at the aforementioned pizzeria.

 

And a grand finish it was:  as we stood and began to navigate our way past the tables to the left, all of a sudden our Eastern neighbors' table across the narrow street at the pizzeria thrust forward and every single plate, glass, and bottle smashed into a million pieces in the middle of the street.  Continuing with the evening's theme, an act replete with instinct, curiosity, and spontaneity.  My only regret is that I didn't take a photo, but the ever popular phrase 'it looked like a war zone' should suffice.


L'APIBO

31 rue Tiquetonne
75002 Paris
tel:  01 55 34 94 50
website: http://www.restaurant-lapibo.fr/

Ze Kitchen Galerie - Zis Must Be Zee Place

Finally got around again to Ze Kitchen Galerie after far too long, a snub attributed to nothing more than the fact that I never got around to it.  Sitting comfortably a hop, skip, and jump from the Seine, whose banks that temperate Friday evening in June were amply dotted by groups of 20-somethings picnicking on wine, beer, and edible accompaniments, it was like we had never left.  But a few minor dinks aroused my 'danger approaching' anxieties.  First, the host at the door smiled too much and welcomed us in English upon hearing my accent.  The dining area was only sporadically filled albeit at the early 7:30 pm seating that was quickly resolved a short time thereafter when the room filled).  And the all-male open kitchen was populated by six 20-something guys (only later joined by a diminutive Asian female).  Once the mise-en-bouche arrived, however, my trepidations were immediately rendered unfounded.  A refreshing, dark green anise-flavored green apple gazpacho and it was clear that chef William Ledeuil had not lost his courage, pushing on with some of the more imaginative fusion, spice-laden cooking in the capital.  Co. and I partook of the 82 € menu decouvert this time and thus let ZKG decide what we should eat.

I'll keep this short this time, given I've already fully reviewed ZKG at this site a couple times before.  The dinner was great, reminding me what interesting concoctions await the addition of wasabi.  The only downside, other than the higher prices than we remembered, was the little water scam, where we were charged an additional 2.50€ for the typical carafe d'eau which, we were later informed, was a special typical water because it came out of their agua nordique (sic) machine.  

The courses, in order, included two entrees, one pate, a fish plate, a meat plate, and two desserts:

Bar marinee, with ginger, lemon, and wasabi

 

Foie grad de canard marinee, jus de canard

Linguini al dente

 

Rascasse

Lapereau with snow peas, ginger, mango, and artichoke

White chocolate sorbet, strawberries, wasabi, pistachio (you know this one)

Coconut, creme, pineapple, grapefruit

Still looking forward to checking ZKG bis, on the same Left Bank rue.

ZE KITCHEN GALERIE

4, rue des grads augustins

Paris 6

tel:01 44 32 00 32

website:  http://www.zekitchengalerie.fr/fr-fr/flash/flash.html

Le Dauphin - St. Aizpitarte’s Infirmary

Unable to snag a Feb. 15th post-Valentine's Day table at the more romantic Les Magnolias, Co. and I ventured out to the decidedly unromantic Le Dauphin, Inaki Aizpitarte's tapas wine bar a couple doors down from his remarkable Chateaubriand - the latter, as anyone who has followed this blog is well aware, is one of my favorites.  As pithily described at  phyllisflick's Paris Notebook site, when Monsieur Aizpitarte took over Le Dauphin, a previously non-descript Parisian cafe, he called upon Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas who transformed the space "into a modern white cube carved from Carrara marble." That's one way of putting it.  Another way is to sit at your little table surrounded by walls of mirrors and imagine butchers of yore happily splattering the marbled floors with blood and guts, ash descending from their cigarettes, sweat pouring from their brows.  Maybe it's just me, but the exaggerated clash of marble and mirror has that kind of effect on me.  When I say unromantic, I mean clinical.  The centerpiece bar is where the action is, with scruffy clientele mixing with animated scruffy bartender/servers.

Although I enjoyed experimenting with the vague list of tapas offerings, I kept thinking about how much more enjoyable an evening at Chateaubriand would have been.  Still, when it comes to the spate of contemporary and oh so French tapas venues popping up around town, you have to rate Le Dauphin up there with Aux Deux Amis and Au Passage.  For lack of better documentation, here's the bill listing the various offerings that comprised our dinner, followed by some photos - good luck matching the photo correctly with the itemized dishes on the bill.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Tasty?  Check.  Diverse?  Check.  Inventive?  Check, well, for the most part.  Unforgettable?  Not really. I must admit, any time I can snag a risotto in black ink without having to book a flight to Valencia, I'm a happy camper.  But that clinical atmosphere got to me, and not in a good way.  Honey, I love you, but give me Chateaubriand.