Chez Georges

[Steve Plotnicki]

It was the sky that made me hungry. I didn't notice it until the taxi exited the Perepherique and was headed up Avenue Grand Armee towards the Etoile. It was 8:30 in the evening and dusk this time of year in Paris is glorious. It set my mood straight. Especially after a weekend in London which was nice enough, yet I wasn't overwhelmed with a feeling of being in Europe. But one look at that blue and pink sky, and how the shops and their signs glittered beneath it finally cured me of my European blues.

I hadn't quite worked out where to have dinner yet. Madame P. wasn't arriving until the morning and we had a nine star week ahead of us. So on a night of solo dining, I didn't want to do something too gastronomic. So after I arrived, I would walk over to the Virgin Megastore and browse through various food guides and find a place. One place looked good, Le Chavignol in the 17th. But when I phoned the person who answered told me the restaurant was closed. Then I thought about going over to Willi's Wine Bar. It's an old favorite of mine, with better then necessary food but the most glorious list of Rhone wines imagineable, many by the glass. Then it occurred to me, Chez Georges was just down the street off the Place Victoire and I would try that first.

Chez Georges is a new old bistro. Bernard the owner told me, "George was my father. The restaurant is here since 1953 but the family came to the Place Victoire from Aveyron in 1911." And that looks about right for the place. It's classic bistro decor, but not as precious or ravishing as some of the places from the 30's. The room is long and narrow, and is frequented by many foreigners. The menu is a virtual dictionary of French bistro classics. I settled in with the carte, and the carte du vin and pondered all of the potential choices. Could I possibly have the lamb chops, a veal chop with morels and a ribsteak for dinner? Merde, it could be just one . After a few minutes Bernard came over and I asked him a question that I am certain has permanently put me in his good graces. "The Dujac Morey St. Denis, is it the village wine or the Premier Cru."? A cheap trick, yet the kind that makes them want to take care of you for the rest of the night.

A few minutes later, Bernard was back at my table with a bottle of 1997 Dujac Morey St. Denis (village bottling.) I didn't know what I was going to do with a whole bottle by myself, but I figured what the hell, it's Paris. I haven't been here since April, and the staff will drink what I leave over. He also set down a plate with two thin slices of saucisson sec, and a type of radish that I had never seen before. They were long and narrow and had a slight bell shape at the bottom. And when you bit into them, they weren't completely solid. Anyone? Then a few minutes later they set down my first course. A fairly large crock of Rillettes D'Oie and a smaller crock of Cornichons. I took some rillettes on my fork and tasted them. "Fuck, is this good" is exactly what I said to myself. I then proceeded to drown myself in a tub of shredded goose mixed with it's fat sprinkled with some coarse salt and dabbed with some Dijon mustard. My main was three rib lamb chops that were perfectly rose like I ordered them, and were perfectly salty, and they came with a large pile of stupendously good haricots vert (green beans) that were lightly sauteed in butter. Loads of flavor to those beans. I am normally not a big veggie guy, and it is likely when you dine with me that you will see my veggies left over. But here I cleaned my plate. Nothing left but a plate with a few gnawed over boned from the chops. Dessert was a nice size plate of beautifully perfumed Fraise des Bois (wild strawberries) with a scoop of intensely flavored vanilla ice cream.

I walked out of the place feeling like I was in heaven. It was all too simple, but all too good. It was a friendly reminder of how the French got it right in the first place. And that good traditional food is still available in the places that spend the right amount of time in sourcing ingredients, and care about cooking them the right way.

[Wilfrid]

I didn't know what I was going to do with a whole bottle by myself

Everything else I understood

I could eat that kind of meal every night for the rest of my life.

[hollywood]

Very lyrical. I wanted to grab those haricots vert away from you.

[Scottf]

Good post Steve. I've walked by Chez Georges a couple of times this year normally early in the morning, next time I'll make sure I'm going for dinner.

Do you prefer the more traditional style of bistro like Chez Georges to the neo-modern style that seems to be the fad in Paris at the moment?

What are your favourite bistros that show a definite regional influence

[jaybee]

An untutored but energetic young friend of my nephew dined at Chez George at our suggestion. He ordered the boeuf gros sel and a starter of herring in cream sauce. He was with his girlfriend. It was his first meal on his own in Paris. The crock of herring was brought to the table and the young man dug in. and dug in. and dug in again, When the waiter came to retrieve the crock, the boy indicated he hadn't had his fill and proceeded to finish the entire crock-ful.

When told later that he had been expected to extract a serving from the house crock and return the container to the waiter, he smiled sheepishly and said "oops!" No one at CG made him feel uncomfortable and he even felt that they appreciated his herculean appetite.

Ah, Paris...I wish I were with you, Steve. If you go to La Grille, please give my kisses to Yves and Mdme Culliere. Tell Yves I will come back soon for a new lesson in beurre blanc sauce making.

[foodchick2002]

Thank you, Steve for a wonderful post. Made me hungry and "homesick" for Paris.

[MartyL]

On our first visit to Chez Georges in June, one thing that struck us was how everyone, patrons and waitstaff included, was smiling. The place has this lively vibe of conviviality and happiness that is infectious. Of course, the quality of the food and wine doesn't hurt either.

We had that very same bottle of wine---97 Dujac MSD---with our meal. Lots of puppy fat for a village wine, no?

We also had the fraises du bois for dessert. I loved how the bowl of cream was twice as large as the bowl of strawberries.

Enjoy the rest of your trip.

[hollywood]

Hey, Steve,

Are you going to be in Paris on the 20th -21st? See link to Flo Group's visit an historic bistro thing.

http://www.bparis.com/newsletter1464/newsl...m?doc_id=121036

[Steve Plotnicki]

Wilfrid - Jews can't drink whole bottles of wine by themselves. It's genetic.

Hollywood - Unfortunately I won't be here.

MartyL - I thought the Dujac was good for a village wine, but it was a little tight. It didn't really show the puppyfat you claim it exhibited.

Jaybee - No time for La Grille. Even though I wish there were.

[John Whiting]

SteveP wrote:

Jews can't drink whole bottles of wine by themselves. It's genetic.

We don't seem to know the same Jews!

I'm off to Paris for a few days from October 1st. Steve, you've convinced me that Chez Georges must be on my shortlist. I am of the opinion that if we shared a meal and never exchanged a word, but merely pointed at the food and registered approval, enthusiasm, indifference or disappointment, we'd dine in perfect harmony. If only we spoke different languages. . .

[Wilfrid]

The notion of Plotnicki and Whiting sitting in silent contemplation for a period of more than, oh, about two minutes, is amusing me.

[John Whiting]

I wrote in the subjunctive mode; i.e. condition contrary to fact.

[Bux]

I think Plotnicki was speaking of the natural inclination to share a bottle of wine. There's a difference between drinking a whole bottle by oneself and sharing three bottles between two people. The latter is much easier for those who are culture bound not to drink alone.

[Steve Plotnicki]

I think that John and I would be perfectly silent. That's because he would be dead before they served the food.

Bux - No I was referring to the fact that Jews do not stress drinking alcoholic beverages. That doesn't mean there isn't a tradition of taking a shot of schnapps etc., but Jews that get drunk should be put into the Smithsonian.

[Lesley C]

Steve, thank you for that post. Reminded me how much I love French bistro food in Paris. I would have ordered exactly the same thing.

Rilettes, grilled lamb chops, haricots verts, and fraises des bois with glace aux oeufs a la vanille... life doesn't get much better than that.

Boy, I have to get back to Paris soon.

[Bistro Bob]

Chez Georges (2e) was one of the first Parisian bistros Michele and I tried, more than twenty years ago, and it has been on our short list of favorites ever since. If you are a group of three or four or more, a good appetizer strategy is to each order a different savory salad - champignons a la Greque, salade jambon, celeri remoulade, herring, etc. (served in big glass bowls) - which lets everybody put together a nice antipasto plate. Of course it's also difficult to pass up the excellent foie gras or the perfect salade frisee with a poached egg on top.

[Bux]

Bux - No I was referring to the fact that Jews do not stress drinking alcoholic beverages. That doesn't mean there isn't a tradition of taking a shot of schnapps etc., but Jews that get drunk should be put into the Smithsonian.

And I was just saying that we only drink to be sociable.

Reading this thread and the responses, it's occurred to me that probably wouldn't order lamb chops in a bistro even thought they're likely to be better meat and better done than here. I'd look for a place with something traditional that I couldn't get here--say an andouillette or even a boudin noir.

[John Whiting]

Steve the Impaler wrote:

I think that John and I would be perfectly silent. That's because he would be dead before they served the food.

Because I would *be* the food? No -- you would find me unpalatable.

[Sandra Levine]

Steve, your initial post made me long to be in Paris.

[jaybee]

Steve, your initial post made me long to be in Paris.

I, too, long to be in Paris, shortly.

The thought brings a to my heart.

[Blue Heron]

From the first sentance that it was the sky that made you hungry, I knew I was going to enjoy that post. It painted a great picture for a great meal. Do you ever go to the same restaurant twice during a trip? Probably not, but if you do, that one sounds worthy of a second visit.

[John Whiting]

In another thread, the Financial Times article on French food was written in response to a totally dismissive diatribe in the Daily Telegraph by their Paris correspondent, Philip Delves Broughton. Published on 23 July 2002, it was provocatively titled, “Who said French cooking was good?” I would provide a link, except that the Telegraph has, for some reason, not seen fit to include it in their website, or even to acknowledge its existence. I would not have seen it were it not for my wife’s excellent clipping service. It begins,

The food in most French restaurants is terrible. There. Said it. . . . t has taken me too many grisly steaks, stringy chickens and watery vegetables to reach this conclusion, and I’m not backing down.

After further general insults he launches into a specific attack on Chez Georges:

The turning point came about two months ago, when a contingent of English friends came to Paris for the weekend. I was asked, as usual, to book somewhere “really French”, so called up Chez Georges, an old-fashioned brasserie [sic] near the Bourse, lauded in every Paris guide.

When we arrived, it seemed like the real thing . . .

Then came the food. The worst of the first courses were the champignons Grecques, which consisted of a large glass bowl, filled with what seemed to be tinned mushrooms in oil and vinegar. You were meant to spoon out as much as you wanted, then return the bowl to the waitress, who popped it back on the shelf for the next sucker.

For main courses, two of the men chose a supposed Georges specialty: grilled veal kidneys. They got platefuls of what tasted like chunks of tyre rubber. I had a scrawny pair of lamb chops. The scene around the table was one of desolation. Chewy steaks, limp frites, fish buttered to inedibility. Ifthis was a ploy to make us drink more, it worked.

We ordered puddings, just to punish ourselves. The poker in the eye turned out to be Baba au Rhum, a mountainous, yeasty cake steeped in cheap rum. It was like sucking on a mechanic’s oil rag.

Broughton then metes out the same treatment to several other French restaurants and ends with a description of the “fatty, slimy, cheap” steak tartare he was served at Brasserie Lipp after showing up in a baseball cap “emblazoned with the word Texas”. He had been escorted to the far rear of the dining room, and no wonder.

In this thread, a number of members have come out in support of SteveP’s poetic review of Chez Georges and no one has ventured to disagree. So what’s going on in Broughton’s head? The article is illustrated with a photograph of the author being served by an informally attired, rather intellectual-looking bearded waiter. I wonder if he was the unwitting victim of one of Broughton’s vicious attacks.

[robert brown]

John, this must be the article Nicholas Lander referred to in last weekend's FT. Do you think it is? Can you still get it to me?

[Steve Plotnicki]

Well you don't need to read Broughton's article, you can read Simon Majumder's slam of La Regalade on this site (which a number of people here concurred with) to experience the same type of disdain for what many think is authentic French bistro cuisine. Some people do not seem to have the type of palate that appreciates those types of places. Then there are other people who live to eat that type of food.

[magnolia]

If memory serves, many of the complaints about La Regalade have been about the service, which diners have lamented as rushed, indifferent, scattered, etc. I can't say I've had the same experience - I've always been happy there - with the food and the service. Simon didn't like the food, either, but his review led with comments about appalling service.

To what extent are La R., Chez Georges, and others of that ilk victims of their own success, perhaps? To what extent is this excusable? Or is there a lot of that irksome reverse snobbery going on here - Americans/Brits complaining that there are too many 'tourists'? It would be interesting to hear a French diner's point of view, and I'm going to start querying my sources...In the last year I've eaten at La R, Chez Georges, Chez Paul and Bofinger - and there have always been more French than other. But they are certainly still firmly on the guide-book circuit.

Meanwhile.. the 'what's wrong with French cooking' debate - Lander and Broughton and non-pros herewith - seems to be mixing two concepts - one about cooking, and one about service. This seems to be debate that focuses on France, though I haven't figured out whether it's just that we travel to France more than Spain or Italy etc. so our critical faculties are tuned accordingly.

Is it the food that does not live up to expectation/memory, or is it the perception of shoddy treatment of foreigners that leaves a bad taste?

And can these two concepts even be separated - the question of whether you'd return to a restaurant where the food was fab but the service was off, or whether excellent service compensates for food that disappoints in some way?

Plotnicki subtitles his post 'stodgy, boring' etc. He walked into Chez Georges not expecting anything revolutionary, predisposed to having a good time, and not having to stretch his palate. A lot of people seem to walk into a French restaurant anticipating bad treatment and a disdainful attitude on the part of the staff, which certainly colors their experience with the food. Another poster described the staff at Chez Georges as always smiling. So the food's stodgy and boring, but it's done right and served with alacrity, and this seems to make up for food that disappoints in some way - NB: I deliberately repeat this 'disappoints in some way' because I don't wish to judge someone's expectations of what they will be served, but I am always curious about where those expectations come from.

You don't go into Chez Georges, Denise, Pied de Cochon, Bofinger, Lipp, Paul. et al - or even newcomer La Regalade - looking for something new or cutting-edge. Chez Georges, at least, has been serving the same food, in the same way, by the same people for a zillion years. So if that's what you expect going in, if you are greeted with a smile and treated well, there's almost no way to be disappointed.