9 New/Changed Restaurants Rentrée 2004

[John Talbott]

To prepare for the rentrée scolaire today, I sacrificied my body on a bunch of places I keep putting on the list of possibilities for “next time.”

What is the Rentrée?, readers ask. Well some say it’s when school reopens, others when politics heats up and the restaurants reopen but I know it’s when the blissfully quiet estival Metro cars are alive with the sound of music; and just when you think you’ve heard the last rendition of ‘Those were the days my friend,” enter two guys fresh back from their 2 months at their uncle’s dacha far away, tubas en haut, to give you a new take. (I should note that two of my most trusted advisors, one, a French friend in the cultural service and the other, my wife Colette, love August; he because it’s calm, she because there’s parking everywhere.)

I should probably have entitled this “Eating in Paris in August: Dispelling the myth” because I remember the bad old days in the 1950’s and ‘60’s when no self-respecting restaurant was open in Paris in August. But having just finished almost two weeks of constant grazing, things have changed from when the only possibility was either a Vietnamese joint or a brasserie.

Pinxo, 9, rue d’Alger in the 1st, 01.40.20.72.00 was one of the restaurants mentioned in Gael Greene’s recent T&L article I report in this week’s Digest soon to posted. I’ve seen it mentioned several times recently but avoided it because I sensed it was one more “world food” Spoonesque place even if the invention of Alain Dutournier, he of le Carré des Feuillants. I was mistaken. While it resembles other new places, with stark furnishings, a “California kitchen” open to the bar and non-smoking room, and an English menu in the window, the similarities end there. The staff is really welcoming, happy and seem to genuinely like working there, the food is inventive but doesn’t push the envelope too far, it’s open 7/7 and the prices are friendly. Plus, when I was there for lunch, everyone else was French, there was a big no smoking room and they had glasses, demi-liters and bottles of wine. Watching the staff work was like theater; they were almost silent, interacted with respect and warmth (the lead guy is a dead ringer for John Malkovitch) and spent more time arranging the food as one would in a Japanese setting, than they did cooking it. Dutournier wrote a somewhat drawn-out explanation of the name & concept of the restaurant which they give you if it’s your first time; pinxo=tapas but except for one table where they shared all the courses like tapas most plates were normal size. They start with an amuse-gueule of green sprouts of something, olives and a nice bread. Then I had small tomatoes stuffed with petit gris and a sauce of artichokes followed by a strip of goose cooked to perfection in its skin with a tube of pasta stuffed with duxelles. But looking around I saw nothing (chipirones, gambas, 3 gaspachos and lamb, tuna and pork) I would not be happy to order next time. Finally, they have Illy coffee, 7 E digestives and my bill was 62 E. I’ll be back; thanks Gael!

The friend I trust most to test new restaurants told me a few weeks ago that La Régalade was better than ever. So, despite the mixed reviews in eGullet, I went and boy was he right. In many ways it’s unchanged, e.g. it has the same paintings, smoke, bread on the wall, easy-on-the-wallet menu (30E) and crowd. I know what I’m saying is heresy to the lovers of Yves Camdebord, but Bruno Doucet really has it together. I started with the amuse gueule of a terrine de campagne on wonderful bread, followed by a generous piece of foie gras swimming in a cream whipped up à la Detourbe with girolles; then a piece of veal liver from Corréze with what was understatedly called parsley butter accompanied by tiny shaved and fried Belles de Fontinet (?sp) potatoes and an exquisite salad of tiny greens; topped off by a Grand Marnier soufflé. My bill was 44.50 E and I will be back.

After eating at Pinxo and La Régalade I decided to seek a change of pace and chose a place that got two hearts in Figaroscope in January and an enthusiastic writeup in Pariscope in May and that I’d never made it to. I got a surprise, it was no letup in my gastronomically stellar week. Called L’Abadache - it’s located at 89, rue Lemercier, 01.42.26.37.33, in the 17th (Metro Brochant near the Marché des Batignolles) where Anglophones are unlikely to venture to their great loss (I might add that I could never get people to go to the 19th to eat at Eric Frechon’s for 180 Francs until he moved to the Bristol where he gets three times that). The menu at 18 E changes according to the market and what was described in Figaroscope and Pariscope was not there when I ate; what was, however, was very, very good. I had what was called “grilled vegetables,” which hardly fairly described the fennel, carrots and zuccini with goat cheese and a bit of salad, topped off with hot poitrine of pork, followed by wonderfully prepared calamari with a piquant sauce and potato tart. Both were superb so I decided to test M. Piton’s skills by ordering my standard, the moelleux of chocolate, expecting a big letdown. Surprise again; it was not only warm and runny on the inside and hot and firm on the outside but came with a creamy coffee sauce that was divine. I should also mention that others were having a wonderful looking rare, grass-fed Scottish Angus Côte de Bœuf (for 2 at 48 E) that came with about 10 gigantic frites and a salad first and there were two other mains that looked good. My bill was 36 E but like yesterday I toted my unconsumed wine home. To repeat myself - I’ll be back.

Finally, I found a change of pace. Authenti© , (sic), 81, rue de Segur in the 15th, 01.43.06.20.20 got a nice review in Figaroscope in March but I suspect since it was reviewed next to the Table de Lancaster, it was forgotten. Too bad, because while it has the appearance of over-designed places like Georges, Flora or L’Atelier de JR with cutting-edge furniture and décor, it is very low-keyed and pleasant and serves food that can be described as either classically modern or modernly classic. There’s no menu but the prices are reasonable and wine can come as a glass, ¼, ½ or bottle and the carte is interesting; I had gambas wrapped in very thin philo with salad followed by a very generous portion of filet de boeuf with rich red wine sauce cooked to (my) perfection, accompanied by a purée of carrots and a timbale of creamy but not creamed spinach. It was so generous I had room only for some St-Marcellin, which I knew was 3 months after its prime, but was a better choice for me than the chevre; in any case, this was the only hitch, since it was cold from either the cellar or frig, breaking Craig Claiborne’s first law of cheese service. My bill was 53 E.

Gael Greene eating in a place with a “Turkish toilet?” But yes, at the Bistrot Paul Bert, 18, rue Paul Bert in the happening 11th, 01.43.72.24.01. It’s been well-received in both Pariscope and Figaroscope and is open Saturdays, so it was a logical choice. There’s a menu-carte, menu=26 E, formula a bit less, 18 E I think; I had girolles and cepes in parsleyed butter which were divine and a wonderful incredibly delicious dense coffee granité with chantilly for dessert. For my main I ordered the aile de raie with white beans fully aware that it was not the classic vinegar/chives/etc. preparation and therefore, my less than ecstatic response is tempered by an urge to return to try the rest of the carte. My bill was 48 E.

“Why do I go to these places?” my only friend asks, rather than stick with the “old favorites.” Well, in the case of La Petite Cour, 8, rue Mabillion in the 6th, 01.43.26.52.26, because I love the setting, because I can still taste the haricots verts I had there some 20 years ago, because it’s open on weekends, because Gilles Epié (whose cooking at Miravile I loved) took it over several months ago and because Le Figaroscope and Pariscope reviewed it quite well. Isn’t that a recipe for success? Plus it was a mild and bright 73° F., there was hardly any traffic in town (the cars from the Southwest all being stuck on the A63 after an 8-death accident), the breathtakingly beautiful court looked most inviting and it was a Sunday lunch. That, plus I had what the critics wrote up: warm duck sausage with small white beans and avocado, nut-encrusted rollatine of rabbit with tiny fresh veggies and the “vrai” baba au rhum. Nothing was bad, nothing was disgraceful, the service was pleasant (not sullen as Pariscope reported), but there was no pizzazz, no razzmatazz, just plain old around-the-corner food. Lesson learned (yet again): you can’t go home again. Bill=50E and the plates were very slow in coming.

If you ever have a young couple call in transition between train and plane in Paris and ask where they can eat in a real French place for nothing because they’re broke after their month in Spain or Greece, this is the answer: Le Cannibale, 93 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud in the 11th, 01.49.29.95.59. Touted to the skies by Time Out’s print and website editions, it’s located in what must be the biggest concentration of Muslim bookstores and butchers in Paris and it’s cheap (8.90 plat du jour, wines starting at 13E), lively and serves real and honest fusion (franco-australio-magrebian) food. I had a genuinely terrific pastilla of confited chicken, followed by tough but tasty lamb, just like the folks down under like it. Even the pasta with grated parmesan served with the lamb was cooked correctly and my coffee was serré as requested. I’ll bet in the winter the smoke and music (Janis Joplin and Frances Cabrel) are overwhelming, but you can wear anything from grunge to ties, drop in at the last minute and nobody eating spoke English, despite the chefesse’s Aussie origins. For 27.20 E I felt I got a good deal and for what it is, it’s dandy. But make no mistake, it’s not the place to take your Aunt Minnie or your fiancée for a romantic dinner. And while they take credit/debit cards; no checks.

Le Point Bar, 40, place du Marché St-Honoré (on the North end), 01.42.61.76.28, is being a bit cute, calling itself a bar when it has no bar (to sit at, at least) and 99% of the patrons (in the US sense) have suits & ties. Jean Miot in Le Monde June 19th, called the décor Zen with echoes of Rorschach tests, but was heartened that it was recently opened by the daughter of Sophie and Jean Bardet, who run Tour’s two-star restaurant/hotel. I’d read and heard mixed things about it, but with that provenance and that of its chef (his father and Pierre Gagniare), I figured I didn’t have much to lose. And, indeed, I did not. The amuse-gueules were little thin-crusted philo-type pizzettas with tomato paste and olives and the bread was by Poujardan. Then I had the stacked, microtomed suchi-esque daurade, mozzarella and tomatoes followed by the veal kidneys à la diable with a ciboulette sauce that was more intensely chivey than I’d ever had, topped off by their individual tarte of the day, mirabelles, which are in full season here, on top of creamy figs with a honey drizzle. All were impeccable. The deal, had by every fancy-Dan businessman the place was packed with, was the plat de jour, a navarin of lamb, with wine and coffee “offered” at 15E, add an entrée or dessert for 5E more and add both for 10E more. I, having had my lamb fix this week, wound up owing 50E with no complaints. One Dutch guy inside was smoking but there are at least 12 covers outside, which on a day like it was, was ideal. The week I was there they said their credit card machine wouldn’t process foreign cards.

Iode, 48 rue d’Argout in the 2nd, 01.42.36.46.45 is located on that cute little pedestrian alley north of A. Simon’s shop, where the restaurants, all with tables outside, look identical but their cuisine goes from Italian to cute. I’d read about Iode both in an ecstatic review in Pariscope July 23rd and in various new seafood restaurant compilations and scoped the blackboard the previous day and it looked good. I started with supions which were fried correctly but the husband and wife chef team used the Passard technique of showering the sauce with salt and the result detracted from the excellent product. Then I had the filet de bar which was nothing to write home about and seemed one-step down in freshness and quality of product – it was covered what was described as shaved parmesan but was tasteless. The saving grace was the Illy coffee. The bill 45.50 E.

[MMerrill]

After eating at Pinxo and La Régalade I decided to seek a change of pace and chose a place that got two hearts in Figaroscope in January and an enthusiastic writeup in Pariscope in May and that I’d never made it to. I got a surprise, it was no letup in my gastronomically stellar week. Called L'Abadache  - it’s located at 89, rue Lemercier, 01.42.26.37.33, in the 17th (Metro Brochant near the Marché des Batignolles) where Anglophones are unlikely to venture to their great loss (I might add that I could never get people to go to the 19th to eat at Eric Frechon’s for 180 Francs until he moved to the Bristol where he gets three times that). The menu at 18 E changes according to the market and what was described in Figaroscope and Pariscope was not there when I ate; what was, however, was very, very good. I had what was called “grilled vegetables,” which hardly fairly described the fennel, carrots and zuccini with goat cheese and a bit of salad, topped off with hot poitrine of pork, followed by wonderfully prepared calamari with a piquant sauce and potato tart. Both were superb so I decided to test M. Piton’s skills by ordering my standard, the moelleux of chocolate, expecting a big letdown. Surprise again; it was not only warm and runny on the inside and hot and firm on the outside but came with a creamy coffee sauce that was divine. I should also mention that others were having a wonderful looking rare, grass-fed Scottish Angus Côte de Bœuf (for 2 at 48 E) that came with about 10 gigantic frites and a salad first and there were two other mains that looked good. My bill was 36 E but like yesterday I toted my unconsumed wine home. To repeat myself - I’ll be back.

We've just returned from a trip to France and Italy and during our brief stay in Paris we had a fantastic lunch at L'Abadache, on John Talbott's recommendation. The restaurant is small and friendly. We opted for the 18 Euro lunch menu in which you are given 2 or 3 choices in each of 3 courses. We all started with a delicious cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup garnished with cilantro. My second was a crispy filet of rascasse on a bed of small beans and tomatoes with a sauce flavored with coconut milk and cilantro. My companions had the cote de porc with a crispy potato galette and brown sauce. For dessert I had warm fresh figs simmered in red wine with a scoop of lavender ice cream. My husband had vanilla ice cream with warm chocolate sauce, and something else chocolate. We had the carafe wines which were 8 Euros and quite nice. This delightful meal was 70 Euros for three of us! We had a nice chat with the chef and his wife. They were curious about what brought us there, and remembered John Talbott's visit. It's a wonderful restaurant. Everyone should go!

[John Talbott]

Le Bistrot Paul Bert Redux

Sometimes it takes me a while to get smart. And this time* it took my friend Atar to suggest we go back, he having been several times since ’04 and both of us quite liking their bivalve/fish offshoot l’Ecailler du Bistrot next door. What’s different?; well - no Turkish toilet, menu’s gone from 26 to 34 € and waitstaff I didn’t recognize. Otherwise pretty much the same.

Four of ordered: I had the 3-course menu with terrific sautéed small cuttlefish with bits of confited lemon - which 75% of the table ( I among them) thought were a great idea; then veal liver that I ordered blue (“you mean you really want it blue, that means it’s hardly cooked?” – “Yes”) but served more like saignant with mashed potatoes with olives and chives within; and finally poached cherries with a flat tuile and ice cream – all very good – a come back meal for 34 € (wines start at 18 €). Atar had the special, also itself 32 €, the beef filet with fries, that ironically, this week’s l’Express said were the best in any bistro in Paris save at Severo. I liked both a lot. The ladies, unfortunately, had the bland barbue (brill if that helps) with girolles in garlic butter that none of us were stunned by. Each was 33 €. With coffee, two bottles of Gamay-tasting but 13% wine and no bottled water our bill came to 180 € for four.

Come back? You bet, me, not sure about the ladies with just one so-so fish dish available.

* My last meal was June 21st fully paid for.

[julot-les-pinceaux]

Went to Pinxo for a quick lunch yesterday. As John wrote (or did he?), a smart and well executed concept in terms of having light vaguely creative snack, the right amount of wine and efficient service.

For a guy like me who goes to restaurant to eat, it's mostly a rip-off, but indeed there is something choreographic about the place. Also, it was my first adventure with my new lens and the lighting is good, so I was happy anyway.

But I sure won't be back on my own accord. There are restaurants where you want to go, restaurants where you'll accept to go, and restaurants where you won't go. That's the middle category in my book. But I'm with John in the sense that Spoon definitely is group 3.

More detailed review and pictures at: http://www.julotlespinceaux.com/2008/12/la...dutournier.html

Edited December 11, 2008 by julot-les-pinceaux (log)