Seven new or changed restaurants

[John Talbott]

I had the opportunity recently to eat at a number of new or changed places (Les Ormes moved, Le Soleil is supposed to have a new chef); as always the info is subject to the "first meal bias." The following are my notes:

L'Astrée, 3 rue Général-Lanzarec, in the 17th, was awarded three hearts by Figaroscope and they are well-merited. Open for about six months, it's a well-appointed restaurant with fine great food and fine service in a pleasant setting. The day I went, two of us had the 39E menu (3 courses, vs 29E for 2). We started with an amuse-gueule of a cold soup with a bit of melon and prosciutto; then I had an asparagus soup (it came hot or cold) with shaved chorizo on top, my copain had a mackerel cooked and sliced in 1 inch segments set on a cold platter with sauces all around (the chef is Japanese); then I had an entrecote of 5 hours which was rare and fantastically cooked and seasoned; he had a tuna (which he ordered knowing the chef would like sashimi) with beans which was equally good. We both finished with a chocolate moussy dessert; the bill was 115 for 2. A definite repeat for 4 persons.

Les Ormes, 22 rue Surcouf, 01.45.51.46.93 is the new home of Stéphane and Régina Molé's restaurant of the same name that they just moved from deep in the 16th to the heart of the 7th. The menu has the same cover and many of the same dishes with the addition of an homage to the prior occupant, Le Bellecour. There was a superb amuse-gueule of crab on top of a potato and I followed it with a soup of very finely pureed lettuce with wonderful chunks of rouget, a quenelle de brochet that was huge like a souffle with a magnificent crustacean sauce (as Colette would say "a lot of animals sacrificed themselves for that"), and a tart of black cherries. It was opening day for the new team and there were several small hitches, none of which caused a problem (someone else's wine and check delivered to me and an initial "inability" to swipe the VISA card) and I think will not happen again. The menu is 5E more than it used to be (eg 35E) but that comes with the territory - my bill was 54E and I was well content.

Le Duc de Richelieu, 5 rue Parrot, 12th, 01.43.43.05.64, very near the Gare de Lyon, is a throw-back to the 1950's and before. Imagine walking into a restaurant around Les Halles then; it's like that. Sure, the walls and windows and furniture are new, but the menu and the feel is old. Le Duc got top billing in both Figaroscope and Pariscope this week, for a good reason, it neither follows the routes of the great chefs or the formula for success spelled out by Olivier Morteau. It's a niche place, a blast to the past and once the New York Times writes it up pre-Summer, it'll be too late. But right now - go! The menu is 14.50E (cucumbers topped with fresh anchovies or a pâté de compagne, then pot au feu, blanquette de veau, saumon cru mariné, or tripes). On the carte are about 7 starters - terrines, rillettes, asperges and saucisse and 9 beef preparations, ris de veau, porc, mutton and coquilles. But you know you're in the '50's with the 5 cheeses at 5.8E and desserts like baba, chocolate mousse, crème caramel, framboises and fraises, apricot tart and millefeuille. The wines come in 15, 30, bottle and 85 cl portions and are all Beaujolais's except for one Côte de Rhône and two Mâcons and are very reasonably priced (21-22E a bottle and the labels look '50's ones, not like Sonoma labels the French are supposed to emulate to regain the market). There's a no smoking room, no cell phones were used and no language other than French was evident. I felt I couldn't go wrong and I didn't with rillettes d'oie and coquillles St-Jacques à la provençale and for Colette, who'll never come due to the massive ratio of animal fat to healthy fish oil, I had the mousse. But be warned, what you see is what you get - no stars, no innovation, just the golden oldies done the way they should be. (PS. After reading "Food Business," I've been trying to spot the freeloading critic who reserves for three and eats with one; today he or his clone got comp'd for the aperitif, ate with a woman with that parchment-browned skin that's had too many tucks and the owner spent too much time fussing over him to have been a friend. See, reading too improves the mind). Oh my bill - 46E.

Les Papilles, 30, rue Gay-Lussac, is in a charming wine store that sells products of the Southwest (sausage, foie gras, confit de canard) and the 15 or so tables are surrounded by shelves and boxes of wine. It is another place Figaroscope awarded 3 hearts to a few weeks ago and loved the cooking of its young female chef. Many courses bear Yves Camdeborde's name. I had the 28.50E menu with a somewhat different tasting cold bisque d'hommard, a generous cassolette of braised porc with coco beans - very tasty, a well-affinated slice of brie de Meaux and a cappucino (mousse-like) dessert. The pot de vin de Gamay was very good. The bill was 37E. I'd recommend it if you were exhausted after just touring the Oceanographic Institute or lived nearby and it was "the cook's night out" but because of the limited choices it's not for a group, it serves food that my distaff crowd call "boys' food," it's not impressive enough to schlep over to on the RER.

Le Vin dans les Voiles, 8, rue Chapu in the 16th is the space vacated by Stéphane and Régina Molé's Les Ormes two months ago (see two above). Tel 01.46.47.83.98. The new incarnation is as a Bistrot à vins, a goodly number of which are listed on the ardoise. For lunch there is a very reasonably priced 3 or 2 course menu (the latter 19E) with supposedly only one entrée, two plats and one dessert, but whenever I indicated I didn't exactly warm to one or the other dish, my very friendly host moved on to more, so indeed there were 3 entrées and 4 plats. I had a very nice cold shredded raie on salad and rumsteak (because I was serving chicken at dinner to friends or I would have had that). The wine, a Touraine was also nice; the whole thing was nice, but it's not Molé and it's a long way for just a nice meal. My bill was 31.40E.

Le Soleil, 109, ave Michelet, 93rd, just opposite the Marché Michelet in the St Ouen flea market 01.40.10.08.08. I'd been there Jan 8, 2001 with a friend and had a better meal than he did but was never impelled to return. I ate there recently (5/30/04) and had a wonderful langoustines with a tartly dressed salad, St. Pierre that was fine inside with great sautéed vegetables but too toasted on top, then the best Paris-Brest I've ever had. The bill was staggering for the 18th or 93rd but not for the flea market (59.50E). I was confused because Figaroscope had said May 19th that there was a new chef from Jamin but the old chef (Louis-Jacques Vanucci) introduced himself to me to ask how I'd liked the meal and on being asked, said he was still cooking after 5 years there, but later I saw him introducing a younger guy to another table far away. So we'll see.

La Table de Hélène (no, not that Hélène), is a one year old restaurant that David Applefield heralded in last week's "My Mercredi" as no smoking (oddly enough, Figaro's #3 Pizzaria, Salé et Pepe, just up the Butte is also no smoking). It's at 14 rue Duc in the calm part of the 18th (01.46.06.49.68). A three-course menu is 25E, which with a nice ½ bottle of Bourgeuil comes to 38E. I had two specials: minestrone with pesto, shaved parmesan and olive oil and a daube of biologic beef from limousin with a terrific dark brown sauce with tart olives. I wouldn't schlep kilometres to get there, but if you're in or near Montmartre, it surely beats almost everything else there.

As I finish this, it's Sunday, May 6th and in France the commemoration of Jour J is well underway. I'd like to end this with a personal story that I hope does not break the rules of eGullet. As I got on the plane at Dulles last week to come to France, I helped an American guy a bit older than me onto the plane. He was in a wheelchair with a bag and oxygen running. He said he was en route to his house in Southern France. I said it must be a pain to travel like this and he replied "not like the first time, running up the beach." I was too stunned to reply - he thanked me and I could do no better than to say "no, I and we," indicating the French flight crew, "thank you." Oh, he said, tossing it off, "there were 50,000 other guys with me." I hope he eats well this week and I hope we, who enjoy French cuisine, remember him and our debt to him.

[pierre45]

thank you for the reviews ,John,\. Like you i like to visit new restaurants,however

most times i seem to disagree with the figaroscope reviews.they seem to be too positive.What's your opinion?

[John Talbott]

I've been baffled by them. Sometimes a 2-heart one week is better than a 3-heart just the week before. I often find that Francois Simon's Croque Notes or other small articles scattered about Le Figaro as well as the issues (late December & late June) of Figaroscope with numbers - eg 6.5-9/10 - differ as well. I also cross-reference them with Pariscope's Time Out section, Patricia Wells and other stuff I come across, which is why I think Bux asked me to do the Digest

I think the positive spin found in Figaroscope and other reviews is inherent in the need to "find new chefs," sell guides or newspapers and "keep the food business going" as Olivier Morteau pointed out so well in "Food Business"

I'd be interested in your best "new restaurant news sources."

[pierre45]

John.I aggree with your comments and they were my thoughts exactly.

actually i find "Where" magazine under new"hot tips dining" as a rather good source for new restaurants. Strange as it may sound since its meant for the tourists.I assume they have a good reporter his name is alexander lobrano.

Let me know what you think?.

[John Talbott]

I am hot on the trail of a regular supply of "Where's" since my routes of travel don't take me by 3-4 star hotels (which the "Where" folks in the central office told me they only distribute to). I will include it in my Digest ASAP.

Also, to expand on my comments about sources of information on new restaurants, I have one additional secret weapon. He is a close friend who "auditions" restaurant menus in the window and sometimes in person. Unfortunately he's too bashful to write to eGullet but he watches us carefully.

[Bux]

It's always nice to know people respect us enough to pay attention to what's posted here--I assume your friend watches us carefully out of respect and not because we have the fascination of a train wreck. That said, and in the hope he's watching us now, I'd like to invite him to join us. I am an avid menu reader at home and when I'm traveling. I'm told many members have a hard time passing a menu posted in a restaurant window without stopping and reading. Here in the states, it's not compulsary to post the menu outside the way it is in France, but many restaurants do.

Fresh_a has been touting Alexander Lobrano's column in Where on another thread. I agree that generally speaking, a tourist guide such as Where us usually the last place I'd go for reliable hot tips. I was already intending to take a more more serious view of the Paris edition the next time I'm in Paris. As a publication whose revenue appears to be derived soley from advertisind, I've not been inclined to look too carefully at their recommendations before or elsewhere. Clearly the knowledge that it's distributed at the most expensive hotels in Paris is going to bring more advertising for the effort than continued distribution in budget hotels.

Fresh_a, as concierge at one of Paris' top hotels, has a professional reason to stay on top of the news about restaurant openings and changes although I suspect most of his clients are demanding covers at the three star restaurants more than they are asking for news about new bistros. I guess A would be the one who could tell us what his clients want. I arrive in Paris for too short a stay and with too long a list of places in which I already want to eat. Additional recommendations after I arrive just leads to information overload most of the time, although we tend to leave a day free for a spontaneous meal now and then.

[Margaret Pilgrim]

I have a very simple, if tacky, way of obtaining a current copy of "Where". I walk into a hotel, approach the desk, tell them that my hotel does not provide "Where" and that I would like very much to buy a copy. I have never been turned down, and I have never paid for one. I am, of course, tremendously appreciative, and tell them so.

[fresh_a]

You don't need to explain, just ask. We get people all the time at my establishment asking for it.

[Bux]

The lobbies and public spaces of the seemingly most exclusive hotels, are the most publicly accessible places in the world. This is something I learned in college--one of the more useful things I learned. The nearest public rest room was no further away than the best hotel around. The better the hotel, the less likely anyone was to offend anyone in the lobby who just might be a guest. In those days, it helped to wear a coat and tie. That's no longer necessary.

[John Talbott]

OK OK I get the message, just do it! I will, but I'll also see the "Where" folks themselves and try to get a subs.

[fresh_a]

WHERE PARIS (same office building as Fairchild Publications, and next to Bernardaud)

13 rue Royale

tel : 01 43 12 56 56

I used to know Kay Rolland, the publisher, but she has since moved onto greener pastures

[John Talbott]

I'm delighted you got the same address and tel number I did. I'll drop by.

[John Whiting]

Pre-whitings-writings website posting...

“ … a better standard of ordinariness”

Le Duc de Richelieu

The new Paris bistros that get the most attention tend to be comets launched by Michelin stars as they threaten to disintegrate, deprived of the vital heat of endless world travel and unlimited expense accounts. These offshoots could be compared, perhaps unjustly, to the local shops opened or bought up by supermarkets in order to monopolize the casual trade as well as the expensive weekly shopping.

And so it was intriguing to read of a new bistro near the Gare de Lyon which was described as “a throwback to the 50s and before”. No celebrity chef was touted, no steel-and-marble décor lauded, no month-in-advance booking advised. Nevertheless Le Duc de Richelieu got a week’s top billing in both Figaroscope and Pariscope. John Talbott reported this in his eGullet Paris restaurant digest, suggesting that “once the New York Times writes it up pre-summer, it will be too late.” That clinched it. And so we dropped by for lunch, wondering whether we would find an authentic period piece or a pop art extravaganza.

We needn’t have worried. At opening time there were lots of free places and there was nothing extraordinary in the décor except that it looked a bit new and shiny. A small piece of formica broken off the edge of a panel revealed that it was chipboard rather than the solid wood which would have prevailed in such an establishment half a century ago.

On the wall near our table was a clue as to why Le Duc had been set up with such a retro image. It was a newspaper clipping, yellowed with age, which announced the closure of a bistro with the same name on the rue de Richelieu. It had been the hangout of the Paris-Press journalists – “consorting with Miss Gigondas” was the secretarial euphemism when they were out slopping up the wine – but it closed down when Paris’s equivalent of Fleet Street dispersed to the outer city. A short blackboard list of proprietary wines suggests that the link between the old and new bistros might be a surviving wine merchant.

There was a blackboard with a dozen entrées and thirteen plats, but we chose to order from the 14.50€ menu on a separate board. We started with Cocombre à la crème and Maquereau au vin blanc, both of which were unremarkable but acceptable. My main course however, Estouffade de boeuf aux petits legumes, was utterly sensational, a melt-in-the-mouth beef stew which must have been braised in the requisite red wine for the full eight hours. I accompanied it with a half bottle of the house Morgan, excellent value at 13 €.

Two days later at Les Ormes I would have their highly regarded jarret de veau braisé à la cuiller, a similarly rich, densely flavored stew which was equally as good as the estouffade but no better – either could easily have been eaten à la cuiller, “with a spoon”. (Les Ormes’ dish was of course almost twice the price – we were helping to pay for a posh location near Invalides and lots of starched linen.)

Mary’s main course from the set menu was, remarkably for such a traditional bistro, vegetarian: Julienne rôtie sauce vierge, a bed of thin-cut roasted vegetables, with other conventionally boiled vegetables on the side, which she found delicious. I had a taste, but my attention was centered on my incredible estouffade. Wanting to be certain that we could face a full dinner that evening, we decided to forego dessert. The bill for this modest but excellent feast: an equally modest 44 €.

As we left, Mary suggested that we return for lunch the following day, a thought that had already crossed my mind and with which I readily concurred. Arriving shortly after opening, we were greeted by the same waiter as though we were regulars. He showed us to the same table and when I suggested that our names should be inscribed there on a plaque, he agreed with a chuckle.

This being a Saturday, there was no set menu, so we happily consulted the carte. My immediate first choice was the intriguing Andouille d’escargot, which proved to be a dozen snails, not in their shells but roasted on a bed of chopped sausage in a rich tomato sauce – not something I had encountered before, and quite delicious. Mary’s Asperges vinaigrette was cold and of the continental white variety, which those who are used to hot English green asparagus often find disappointing.

For a main course we both chose that old cliché, Confit de canard avec pommes à l’ail. Warhorse it may have been, but it was an inspired performance. The confit was crispy-skinned, the meat within of a tenderness and succulence that could have been consumed by a toothless grandsire. A half-bottle of Moulin a vent at 13 € lubricated it nicely.

And the garlic potatoes! – perfectly cut to the “thickness of a half-crown”, as a chef from London’s Connaught Hotel instructed Mary they should be. They were golden brown, crisp around the edges but soft within the thin outer shell. Like the heavenly pommes salardaise we once ate in the Dordogne, we would happily have sat down to a meal consisting of nothing more.

As we were congratulating ourselves for having preceded the barbarian hordes, a voice across the room enquired of the waiter, “Do you speak English?” “Do you speak English indeed!” I exclaimed to Mary. “It’s the beginning of the end!” A Frenchman at an adjoining table laughed aloud. Fortunately the newcomer turned out to be only a Middle-European searching for a common language.

This time we had no compunctions about staying on for dessert. Mary’s Tarte aux fraises was a perfectly good example and my own generous helping of cantal cheese, ripe and rindy, was a bargain at 5.4€. It required another glass of Moulin a vent to do it justice.

Waverly Root tells of a French critic whose test of a new restaurant was to order a salade de tomates, just to see how much effort they would put into its preparation. Mary’s equivalent is to ask at the end of the meal for a hot chocolate. The more elevated establishments don’t often have it, but much may be learned from the manner in which they respond. On this occasion, not only were they able to oblige, but the generous cupful was excellent – rich and chocolatey.

My own espresso was no doubt flawless, but I was in such a state of euphoria that I would probably have tossed back a Nescafe in perfect contentment. To round out the feeling of well-being, I accompanied it with an Armagnac. Our collective enjoyment must have registered with our waiter, for he poured me another Armagnac which I felt obliged to consume in order not to appear ungrateful. The bill for all this self-indulgence came to a hundred euros.

Perhaps I should not be sharing the secret of this time warp with my readers, but I think it will probably survive unscathed. The Gare de Lyon is not an area teeming with tourists – those who make the effort will likely be those who deserve it. There is nothing remarkable about Le Duc de Richelieu. In fact, it is perfectly ordinary. But in the astute words of English food historian Jane Grigson, “We have more than enough masterpieces; what we need is a better standard of ordinariness.”

Le Duc de Richelieu, 3 rue Parott, 12th Arr, Tel 01 43 43 05 64, Mº Gare de Lyon

©2004 John Whiting