Catching Ups and Downs: Part 2

180 degrees to go to come full circle and put a lid on a 2013 I am forever happy to bid adieu.  On the heels of Mama Shelter and Le Boudoir, Co. and I returned to a couple of our personal favorites - La Gazzetta and Le Pleine Mer - with a minor detour along the rue de Lappe.  Put on your seat belts, here we go.

La Pirada

After a terrific concert by Matt Elliott and band at the Cafe de la Danse, just off the well-trodden rue de Lappe in Bastille, Co. and I were up for some late night grub and more fire water.  Our usual venue for such purposes is the comfortable Cuban spot Havanita, but let's face it, when it comes to authentic Cuban repasts, Havanita doesn't come close.  So we decided to check out the Spanish tapas just next door at La Pirada.  If there is something that Co. and I know a lot about when it comes to food, it is Spanish tapas, because, well, we spend a lot of time in Spain eating aforementioned Spanish tapas.  We didn't have high expectations for La Pirada and our low expectations were more or less confirmed.  But....what was lacking in authenticity was clearly made up by some above average, satisfying and copious plates, including the following:

Tapas de jour (8.50€)

Pulpo Gallega (10€) - heavy on the paprika, which was fine with me 

Calamares plancha (7.20€)

Not pictured, croquetas jamon (6.90€), my least favorite.  Along with a vino tinto, these offerings hit the spot in slaking our late night cravings - well, at least the edible and drinkable ones.

Needless to say if you know rue de Lappe, with it's never-ending stream of pedestrians, La Pirada benefits from location, location, location.  Even at the late hour of our visit, people were coming and going, non-stop.  Convivial, cheap, and there when you need it.  There's something to be said for that, even if the food ain't the top of the world, ma.

Inside La Pirada, a hint of Spain

A tip of the hat to Matt Elliott at the Cafe de la Danse, around the corner

LA PIRADA
address:  7, rue de Lappe, 75011 Paris
tel:  01 47 00 73 61
website:  http://www.pirada.com/


La Gazzetta

If you are a regular reader of PRAB, you know La Gazzetta, so there's really no need to elaborate again.  No, check that, yes there is.  One of the cool things that added to La Gazz's charm was their carte,which enabled the diner to select 5 (39€) or 7 (52€) plates from a list of 7 offerings.  I always found it somewhat confusing to figure out which were the entrees, plates, and desserts, but in the end it didn't matter because they were all innovative and good and you'd probably, like me, end up taking all 7 anyway at a price that was well worth it.

But what Co. and I found last January was something decidedly different - a standard entree/plat/fromage and/or dessert format (39€ or 45€, depending on the cheese).  So much for greater novelty and choice.  Our latest visit, during the first week of December, found a similar format, albeit with more choices, plenty of innovation, and, big surprise, raised prices (45€ and 55€).  Some of the offerings:

• Raviolis d'epinards, oursin et pomelos
• Salsifis - hibiscus - raisins de Corinthe oignon doux des Cevennes et persil
• Agneau de Bourgogne et carotte rotie olives et citron confit
• Sorbet de lait reduit, citron et meringues
• Biscuit trempe de chataignes, yaourt de brebis compote de pomme Bertane

More distressing than the price increase, we were informed that the renowned chef of La Gazzetta since 2006, Swedish Petter Nilsson is leaving to return to the source, Stockholm, just in time for a Scandinavian Christmas.  Here is the Google translated latest news from La Gazz regarding what happens next:

La Gazzetta will continue to follow the same movement back to basics by using the Italian chef Luigi Nastri , a friend of Giovanni Passerini , chef of Rino restaurant and former second at La Gazzetta. Thus, the torch remains in the "family." Luigi is the new Roman cook and is ready to invest the scene with the desire for a modern trattoria. His kitchen ...will give a Mediterranean tone necessarily rhyming with the Italian name of La Gazzetta.

I'm not sure about that rhyming part.  Not a big fan of Rino, all I can say is 'why mess around with a good thing?  Can't we just have the old La Gazzetta back?'  Maybe my fear is unwarranted.  As far as I'm concerned, I will continue to recommend La Gazzetta as I always have until they give me a reason not to, but best to be forewarned that changes are in the wind.  To be continued...

 LA GAZZETTA
address:  29 rue de Cotte, 75012 Paris
tel:  01 43 47 47 05
website:  http://lagazzetta.fr/wordpress/


La Pleine Mer

I'm a modern kind of a guy, if I have to say so myself, and though I generally laugh in the face of tradition, Co. and I have a little budding annual tradition going, which consists of a late December visit to La Pleine Mer for oysters from the Cancal region of Brittany.  I've already told you everything you need to know about LPM, and though I may lament the coming changes to La Gazzetta, each visit to LPM further confirms that this place will never, ever change.  Yeah, I know, never say never, but LPM has that kind of an 'old reliable' feel about it.

If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times - if you want authentic, inexpensive, super delicious oysters in Paris, this is the place.  No embellishments, no variation in the menu - your only choice is between oysters no. 1, 2, 3, or 4 depending upon availability.  You do have the option of a 'menu' - starting off with a plate of salmon, tarama, butter, and rye bread, and a glass of muscadet (included in the menu).  Then you wait for your dozen oysters, shucked in eye's view, and a bottle of muscadet (extra), and topped off with the cholesterol inducing guilty pleasure, the Breton cake Kouign-Amann (also extra, but only 3.50€). 

La Pleine Mer is just a hole in the wall not far from Gare de Nord, but it's inexpensive and definitely the real deal when you have a craving for oysters.  In fact, it's probably more of a take-out that formal sit-down restaurant.  During our meal, a steady influx of customers were coming in to pick up their holiday oysters for home.

LA PLEINE MER
address:  22, rue de Chabrol, 75010 Paris
tel:   01 53 34 64 47
website: are you kidding?


Before closing this elongated post (Parts 1 and 2), I should add that I finally got around to visiting Le

Le Square Gardette

Square Gardette on rue rue Saint Ambrosie in the 11th, not far from the St Maur metro stop and even less far from my day job.

This was a holiday dinner celebrated with some colleagues, so my function was less reviewer than survivor.  Laid back and convivial, with some odd decorations.  I vaguely remember a tasty entree -  ceviche de merlan, litchi, grenade, and yes, popcorn - and a main fish plate - lieu noir - followed by a pre-selected triad of cheese, featuring a terrific slab of Cantal.  At 44€ for the 'menu', this isn't the best deal in town, but worth checking out.  Lunch might be a better option - just stay away from the quail, which rocked John Talbott's boat in the decidedly wrong way.

Some Square Gardette decor

LE SQUARE GARDETTE
address:  24, rue Saint Ambrosie, Paris 75011
tel:  01.43.55.63.07
website:  http://www.squaregardette.fr/

Roseval - No Rosebud

I always gagged on the silver spoon. 
- Charles Foster Kane

Although Roseval apparently signifies some sort of potato, given that there wasn't a single potato on the menu, I'd prefer the allusion to Citizen Kane's 'rosebud' as the lead-in to this review of the new neo-bistrot in a quaint courtyard of the Menilmontant section of Paris.  With the damp stones glistening in the mid-October evening and the church of Notre-Dame-de-la-Croix looming just across from the pretentiously unpretentious facade of Roseval, who could resist?  A two-week wait for a reservation offered little impediment to Co. & I snagging a back corner table in the 20-seater platformed dining room. Once past the bar, we once again found ourselves initiating the evening as the first-to-arrive.  As we passed the bar, with waitstaff lingering, all eyes were on us - the welcome seemed genuinely friendly enough.

Rosebud . . . the symbol of the lost innocence of youth, and if anything, I couldn't get that reference out of mind during dinner at Roseval.  By the time our second dish had been served, the room was largely filled, with two two-seaters conspicuously standing unoccupied.  The procession of 20-somethings, each warmly welcomed like old buds, cheek-kissed, and greeted by the tag team chefs, Michael Greenwold and Simone Tondo, who both looking positively 20-something themselves, despite their pedigree of having served in the kitchens of the usual suspects, aka Chateaubriand, Rino, and Caffe dei Chioppi, all previously and copiously reviewed here.  Anyway, those 20-something patrons all looked so unlike anything I could remember of my youth, when neither myself nor my peers would go out for a casual dinner on a Friday evening and drop the equivalent of 40€ for a 4-course meal (already upped from July's 35€), or 47€ with cheese, or 65€ or 77€ accompanied by chef-selected glasses of wines, at one of the  aspiring trendier venues in the big city.  And given the no-choice fixed menu (see below), it's not like they could enact a 'why don't we take one plate and one dessert and share' policy.  No sled-riding for these young comers, probably sent off to the Alps by their well-heeled parents for indulgent ski vacations.

Given the lack of choice for food, I had extra time to peruse the wine list, and as I began my perusal, it was all Greek to me - actually, it was Italian, but you know what I mean.  At least the first four choices were Italian, and given our very satisfactory bottle last weekend at Vilia, Co. and I decided to continue with a good thing.  No Sardinian offerings this time, Roseval's Italian reds were from the Piedmont region and once again, I had no clue.  That's where our bouncy waitress, another exuberant Le Chateaubriand refugee, began to give advice, droning on in French to the point at which my addled brain was saying 'flip a coin.'  I was mildly admonished for leaning toward the two more reasonably-priced 'classical' bottles - whatever the hell that's supposed to mean - and not the heavily pushed 60€ bottle that seemed to be the bee's knees according to the waitress.  When the dust cleared, I ordered the 38€ 'classical' Langhe Nebbiolo 2010 (Babaresco), much to her apparent chagrin.  It was fine, but didn't turn out to reach the heights of Vilia's Sardinian.

The meal got off to a great start, albeit lacking a mise en bouche.  One of our neighbors, waiting for her gentleman companion, was brought a small plate of little white tidbits, likely some cheese, but perhaps some cubes of sugar that were never offered with my end of meal cafe, so if you want a mise en bouche at Roseval, tell your companion to circle the neighborhood for about a half hour before parking and you'll probably get one.  The great start was the dish of casserons (pulpe), poireau, and an egg yolk.  My photo is somewhat blurry, but this inky dish was terrific, with each ingredient making perfect sense in enhancing its overall Gestalt.  We greedily lopped up the vestigial ink with some very good country bread.

 

Talk about coming back to earth with a thud.  The cepes (enveloped in a single ravioli circle) - moelle - cresson follow-up didn't do much for me.  Served cold and very green, this one brought more pleasure to look at than to eat.

Ranked right in the middle in terms of pleasure-giving effect, the canette - betterave dish was pretty good, but absolutely smothered in betterave, both the red and white varieties.  Apparently the duo chefs knew better than we did how we prefer our meat to be cooked, because we weren't asked.  I had no complaint in that regard, but Co. was a bit disappointed the canette wasn't bloodier, although I'm not sure the dish could have gotten much redder.  The dish was half-eaten before it occurred to me that I hadn't photographed it, so here's what was left by the time the realization hit me.  If you are a long-time reader of this blog, you know I'm a big proponent of the potential wonders of cooking with betterave, but this one was a bit overwhelming.

At this juncture, our waiter brought us a freebie lead-in to the dessert, a very tasty cup of panna cotta.  I didn't mention the waiter yet, did I?  How could I forget.  This guy, albeit competent in serving, started grating on my nerves about halfway through the meal.  I don't know, there is something about a guy looking about 16 with that holier-than-thou smirk masquerading as a smile that seems to beckon 'hit me' that gets to me.  For some reason, he kept reminding me of Neil Patrick Harris's Doogie Howser, the precocious teen doctor of sit-com fame, which I guess is pretty funny.

Like frere Doogie, the dessert was competent, continuing the multitudinous sauce motif, though hardly spectacular.

With dinner done, I opted for a cafe and intoned to Co. that 'there will be no accompanying patisseries, mark my word.'  Little did I realize that there would be no accompanying sugar, either.  True, I never take sugar in my coffee - never - but how did they know that?  This just isn't done in a French restaurant.  To add insult to injury, once the credit card machine was brought to the table and I paid (total: 121€), frere Doogie brought Co.'s coat to the table and draped it over her chair.  No. 2 in things that just aren't done in French restaurants.  What is the message here?  Okay, you paid, now get the hell outta here.'  Sorry, here we pay and we linger - the French way.  It's not like there were customers waiting outside for a second serving.  I was a little taken aback when Co. beckoned the exuberant waitress to the table to point these things out, because Co. usually is pretty subdued, especially after half a bottle of wine, but the 'it happens' and 'he means well,' explanations definitely fell a bit short.

So what to make of Roseval?  Two talented chefs, no question (see Alexander Lobrano's photos of what appeared to be a more satisfying set of choices than we experienced, and from whence I borrowed the interior photo above) and a charming location, but the owners come up short with regard to customer relationship acumen.  It must be nice to pay one's dues at some successful venues in town and open up a spot where you can kibbitz with your 20-something friends, but the rest of us expect some respect.  Ultimately, you find more empty tables, like the one I don't intend to occupy again.  Rosebud, Rosebud, where art thou Rosebud?

Mr. Kane was a man who got everything he wanted and then lost it. Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get, or something he lost. Anyway, it wouldn't have explained anything... I don't think any word can explain a man's life. No, I guess Rosebud is just a... piece in a jigsaw puzzle... a missing piece.

          Jerry Thompson, Citizen Kane reporter 

        

ROSEVAL
1 rue D'Eupatoria
75020 Paris
tel: 09 53 56 24 14
website: www.roseval.fr

Going Back

Say something once, why say it again? Which explains why I haven't posted for a while. As I gear up for some new venues, some obligatory return visits were in order. One of the hazards of a passionate interest in restaurants, not to mention restaurants in Paris, is that you discover places that are so good, once is not enough. Rather than belabor the point, and because I've reviewed L'Agrume, Le Chateaubriand, and Rino in previous installments, I merely intend to reproduce the tasting menus/ menus degustation that Co. and I experienced over the last few weeks, just to give an idea as to what some local chefs are up to as the chill of Autumn begins to envelop the Parisian atmosphere.

First up was Rino. Not exactly an old favorite, but the first visit there made me want to go back, though I couldn't exactly pinpoint why - maybe it was the terrific rouget I had there during visit 1. Once again, each of the offerings were satisfying - with the standout being a very unique appetizer of ravioli with onion confit and oyster. Nonetheless, I can't say I was particularly wowed by anything, and for that reason, I doubt I'll be returning in the near future. (Click on the menu to enlarge)



Next up, one of my favorites, L'Agrume. I earlier promised I wouldn't review L'Agrume again - in that case, twice was enough - so this isn't a review, just a quick glance. Out of our several visits, Co. & I found this visit to come up a bit short with chef Franck Marchesi-Grandi rather heavy on the light with the first two courses consisting of Burratina cheese and tomato pulp followed by a mousseline de topinambour. The highlight clearly consisted of the poached langoustines - small bloated but light langostines - a real marvel. Dessert was largely forgettable.



Finally, a second visit to Le Chateaubriand, and this did not disappoint. I really like this place, boisterous and noisy, a steady flow of diverse diners and energetic, witty and young waitpersons, and one surprise after another as the multiple courses ebb and flow before you. Highlights here consisted of the red tuna, turnip, and radish dish, as well as an apparently simple lait ribot which edged us into dessert territory. Unfortunately, reserving proved to be more challenging this second time around, and if there is one problem I have with Le Chateaubriand's multiple dishes is that once some dishes get your taste buds going, the offering is gone. In other words, sometimes copious is not a bad thing (hint).



There you have it, Le Chateaubriand wins the retro tour, with L'Agrume coming in runner up. You can't go wrong at either venue. And now, with the exception of a long overdue detour to Les Magnolias, out with the old and in with the new - coming next: JaJa and Septime!

RINO
46, rue Trousseau
75011 Paris
tel.: 01 48 06 95 85
web: www.rino-restaurant.com

L'AGRUME
15, rue des fosses St-Marcel
Paris 5
tel. 01 43 31 86 48


LE CHATEAUBRIAND
129 Avenue Parmentier
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 57 45 95

Paris Bests 2010 - Mortstiff Opens the Envelopes

Where were my all-around most satisfying Paris restaurant experiences in 2010? I’m glad you asked. Here they are, more or less in order of preference. Each links to the more complete reviews. Three-way tie for number 5 – these were restaurants that may not have been at the starry-eyed Michelin level, but where I had some really tasty meals and I want to go back in 2011. Good enough.

Top Five (or Seven)

1. L'Agrume – best smile in Paris, surprising fixed menus,
great price/quality. Two trips, both equally great.



2. Le Chateaubriand – I said it before, I’ll say it again – best meal I had all year in a Paris restaurant. Hip and noisy (the atmosphere), multi-course meal with plenty of experimentation and unique ingredients. Possible to get a table! Possible to get a table!

3. La Gazzetta - Rounds out my favorite fixed-menu triumvirate, fresh offbeat combinations – sea urchin and beet, oysters under crushed tomato. Take me back, sweet viginie.

4. Rino – Not the pinnacle as I had been led to expect, but still the best rouget I’ve ever had. Some work on dessert and who knows how high we go next time.

5. Lilane / Fabrique 4 / La Beure Noisette – decisions, decisions:
Lilane for being so unexpectedly good and laid back.
Fabrique 4 for its potential.
La Beure Noisette for the old-timey bistrot feel – we got in the last day before their renovation, so the return should be revealing.



Honorable Mentions

Yam ‘Tcha – Innovative, fresh cooking with an Asian twist. Would have made
top five (or eight?) if they hadn’t kicked us out in the pouring rain to wait and if they hadn’t dramatically raised their prices as soon as they got that star. Rename Yam ‘Tsk?

La Table d’Eugene – I know it was good, but not as memorable as my first visits there.

Le Gaigne - see above. Very good meal near Beaubourg, I'm just sorry I don't remember it better.

Ze Kitchen Galerie – Would have been listed if I had actually eaten there in 2010. Shocked to realize I never got around to it. That will be corrected in ’11.

Biggest Disappointments -better luck next time . . . if there is a next time.

Pramil - Rated at TripAdvisor as number 14 out of 6354 restaurants in Paris. It's good, but it's not that good. I would go so far as to say nothing to write home about. I did write, to TripAdvisor, and they quickly pulled my critique. Boo to TripAdvisor and their censors.

L'Aromatik - They try, but my ears are still ringing from the din, and the bloody summer heat reminds me of an evening spent in hell.

Au Petit Marguery - just couldn't get into those wild birds.

Random Bit(e)s
Lafayette Gourmand, Blvd Haussmann - a mind-boggling cornucopia of colors and aromas, including two of my favorite spots in Paris:

Best Take-Away Thai - Blue Elephant stand at the food court. You'll want one of everything. They also have a chain of restaurants in major world cities. The one in Paris is at 43-45 rue de la Roquette (Bastill) - worth a visit?

Best Alcohol Selection - Bibliotheque du Vin, Lafayette Gourmand, Blvd Haussmann.
Why they stopped carrying my favorite single malt, Bunnahabhain, I do not know, but there are many alternatives. And where else can you purchase a bottle of Remy Martin cognac Louis XIII dans sa carafe for a mere 29,080€?

Le Chateaubriand - Movin' On Up

That's what I'm talking about - originality, surprise, subtlety, outrageousness. What am I talking about? Last Friday night's dinner at Le Chateaubriand (let's say LC, for short), quite possibly the best meal I've had in Paris all year. LC has been on my radar for some time, but each time I came close to reserving, something held me back. 'You'll either love it or hate it!' 'Noisy and crowded!' And this one from Le Fooding: 'Impossible to get a table. Impossible to get a table: need further explanation?' And also from Le Fooding: 'Gourmet works of art.' There you have it, yin and yang, to go or not to go? Well, when someone tells me 'impossible to get a table' I immediately reach for my phone. Let's face it, if it were truly impossible, how could the restaurant make any business? And sure enough, I was offered a table two Fridays away without difficulty. 'Impossible to get a table' -don't believe it.

LC sits on a busy section of avenue Parmentier in a funky area of the 11th, and that funky atmosphere follows you into LC, an old-style Parisian bistro that once was an old-fashioned grocery, remnants of which appear in their antiquity here and there on the otherwise unadorned walls, save the obligatory chalkboards announcing the available wines by the glass. This is a roomy bistrot that starts feeling more intimate once the room fills, and believe me, it doesn't take long for the place to fill up. Nonetheless, Co. and I were ushered to a cozy corner in the back room, apart from the more hustle-bustle of the larger front room/bar area. And it does get noisy, but in a quasi-bawdy way that adds to the atmosphere, if you get my drift - this is what a Parisian bistrot is supposed to be all about.

But all that noise and crowdedness is for a reason - the evening's 50€ set menu created and prepared by chef Inaki Aizpitarte, who emanates from the French Basque country, and previously held court at La Famille. Alexander Lobrano (Hungry for Paris, Random House) put it very well when he described Aizpitarte as 'a brilliant miniaturist, composing original origami-like compositions of taste that are often potent and pretty.' Our menu for the evening was explained by a young, bearded waiter, slowly, with questions saved for the end. We started off with a set of five amuses bouche, wham bam thank you ma'am, one after the other. First up, a small plate of four gougères - savory little puff pastries, with what may have been subtly embellished by pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top. (Photo thanks to the great eye and camera of gourmet traveler.) A low-key start, with hints of the miniaturist concoctions to come. Our empty plate was soon replaced by two small bowls of cheviche with tiny scallops in their liquid, which our spunky waitress informed us should be consumed in a single gulp. Up next came a dish of two grenouille enveloped by a mysterious sauce with bread crumbs. If frog turns you off, never fear, this looked nothing like aforesaid amphibian. The string of amuses bouche continued with a bowl of miso-like bouillon with small cubes of foie gras. And that was followed up by a plate of tiny crevettes grise with berries and pineapple. Bear in mind, this was all to wet our appetite for the set dinner, which hadn't started yet! I suggested to Co. that this wouldn't be a bad time to pay for the wine (an adequate, but rather light, 36€ Bourgueil) and leave, our stomachs filled with the pre-meal tapas selection, but of course, this was solely in jest, as both us really wanted to see what was next.

What was next was a mulet noir, perles du Japon, huitre, cresson dish. My blurry photo will give you some idea, but the photo really doesn't do justice. Next, a cabillaud, pil pil, betteraves dish. Pil pil reflects the Basque origins of this recipe (i.e., the dish was prepared in a special sauce originating in the Basque country), which was highlighted by a delicate, sweet lump of beet, which really brought the steamed cod alive with flavor. Well, it's been two years that the betterave has been showing up in one way or another in finer restaurants around the world (see my Finland reviews), and when this much maligned root is cooked right, it can't be, sorry I can't resist, beat. But I'm starting to get that 'been there, done that' attitude about the beet. With 2011 right around the corner, I say, 'Next trendy vegetable, please!'

At this stage of the festivities, Co. partook of the boeuf, beurre noisette, racines offering, while I was granted an appropriately bloody portion of canard in lieu of the beef. The dish worked well with either meat, and this was just fine. Up next, two desserts, a dish of pommes, butternut, rose, obligatorily consumed before the crunchier chocolat, celeri invention. (You have the option of going with the desserts or the fromages du jour.) And that was that. Each dish reflecting the confidence and skill of the artisan in the kitchen, not a false note during the entire epic meal.









Don't take my word for it, just go. With Rino and LC under the belt this month, I feel like we're movin' on up quality-wise. Yet in both cases, the set menu approach keeps the prices down, with LC topping out at 139€, including one post-meal cafe and the wine, and how many courses, if you include the amuses bouche and two desserts? I count 10. While I also liked Rino very much, if I was stranded on a desert island and could only take one of the two bistrots with me, it would be Le Chateaubriand, hands down.

Note: other than my pitiful photo of the appetizer (Mulet noir), the other food photos from the aforementioned gourmet traveler; others from qype and The New York Times.

LE CHATEAUBRIAND
129 ave. Parmentier
75011 Paris
tel. 01 43 57 45 95
website: can't find one

P.S. There's another Le Chateaubriand restaurant in Paris, in the 17th. That's not the one I'm talking about.

Today's Italo-French Genius Bistrot - Rino

Out with the old, in with the new. As a follow-up to a string of return visits, Co. and I put on our trendiest clothes and headed out to the new big deal neobistrot in Paris, Rino. Like La Gazzetta, where chef/owner Giovanni Passerini previously shared cooking duties before opening his own venue, Rino boasts an inventive array of dishes a la Italian/French mode.

Outside and in, Rino is minimalistic to the core. Easy to miss from the outside, once past the bar/kitchen area, where a few stand-up tables line the opposite wall, you are ushered into a 20-seater room that looks like someone’s quickly converted garage, retro hanging lamps notwithstanding.

Be forewarned, at Rino there is no choice apart from your selection of the 4- or 6-course tasting menu, the carte held up on a slate tablet by the laid-back waiter. When I asked for the wine carte, I was informed, ‘J’ai un bon rouge vous pouvez essayer’ [I have a nice red you can try.] Apparently there is also a nice white, if that’s your preference. At 28€, the Chateau de Lacroux Gaillac held its own, and who was I to complain? It was nice not to have to fathom a largely incomprehensible wine list for a change.

Despite being recently awarded a Le Fooding palmarè as ‘meiller bistrot d’auteur,’ Co. and I cautiously selected the four-course option, skeptical as we are about anything dubbed ‘best’ by any critic, journalist, politician, or any other so-called expert that might be hanging out a sign. Not that I don’t trust the Fooding guide, but somehow their ‘what would have happened if Petter Nilsson had had a kid with Monica Belluci’ endorsement left me a bit hesitant. Our repas unfolded as such, following a welcoming amuse bouche of pumpkin petit marron: ravioles avec coques, rouget et legumes sec, an agneau dish for Co. replaced at my asking for a substitution with cabillaud et legumes, and a dessert mixture of crème, agrume, nuts, and another ingredient that I can’t read off my notes. The ravioles were very nice, like the room, minimalistically presented without much sauce; the rouget, probably the best preparation I ever have had, and I have tried rouget high and low, left and right; the cabillaud, not as epic but thoroughly satisfying. I enjoyed the dessert as the diet/cholesterol lethal mixture it was, but Co. was decidedly underwhelmed, suggesting it was pretty mundane. With two espressos to round out the evening, the bill came to a remarkably reasonable 109€.









What to conclude about Rino? The reviews are effusive, and the bistrot did win that palmarè, whatever the hell ‘meiller bistrot d’auteur’ is supposed to represent. As one reviewer put it, Passerini’s cuisine is ‘inventive and passionate’ and I would not disagree. Still, I’m not convinced Rino is yet deserving of any ‘best’ nomenclature - it is very good, but not especially spectacular (call me 'jaded'?). I’ll definitely go back, but I’m not ready to run out into the street waving my arms and screaming ‘they’re number one, they’re number one’ quite yet. Still, I have to admit, Rino offers a very appealing price/quality rapport.

Accompanying photos not mine, but glommed off other websites. Pretty representative of our dishes, however.

RINO
46, rue Trousseau
75011 Paris
01 48 06 95 85
website: http://www.rino-restaurant.com

And the Winners Are - Le Palmarès Fooding 2010

Le Palmarès - 'winners,' or in more common French usage, the Oscars, have just been awarded to the creme de la creme of the 2010 Paris and beyond restaurant scene by Lefooding.com, producers of an informative website and even better restaurant guide (mentioned in my last installment). Yes, it does seem rather early, and this is probably the first 'top whatever' list to appear for 2010, but, well...forget it, Jake, this is France. I have no idea what criteria the list is based on, or the process by which winners are chosen, but that doesn't mean my interest is not piqued for some new ideas for future meals, and of course, subsequent reviews. Two have been on my radar for some time: Spring (last year's big news and this year's big relocation) and La Tête dans les olives. A lot of buzz for both. And good to see another top spot around Parmentier, although I'm not so sure I'm willing to try a restaurant on the basis of best decor alone.

So here they are, Le Palmarès Fooding 2010. Let's just hope they don't turn out to be red herrings.

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Petit Luxe
Aux Deux Amis, Paris

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Bistrot d’Auteur
Rino, Paris

FOODING d’Honneur 2010
Bertrand Larcher
Breizh Café, Paris
La Table Breizh Café, Cancale

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Auberge
L’Auberge, Audierne

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Décor
Rem Koolhaas et Clément Blanchet
Le Dauphin, 131 avenue Parmentier, Paris 11e

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Table d’Hôte
La Tête dans les olives, Paris

FOODING 2010 de la Meilleure Cave à Manger
Les Papilles Insolites, Pau

FOODING 2010 du Meilleur Agit’Popote
Spring, Paris

Links to each of these venues at lefooding.com website.