Joe Ray

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Scallops like scallops. Pigeon like pigeon.

PARIS – It’s perplexing when a new favorite doesn’t live up to what you remember.

A few months ago, I went to F.S. favorite Au Bascou and had a transcendent dish that, when I looked at the price - a bit more than what I’m used to paying with mains in the low to mid twenty euro range - still said ‘well worth it.’ I knew I’d go back.

Tonight, on my return, I thought of the restaurant as a place that out of town guests would never find on a first trip to Paris and it was only…good.

Scallops tasted like scallops. Pigeon like pigeon. Cooking temperatures were perfect, yet nothing was lifted to that happy level where what’s in your mouth becomes more interesting what you’re talking about.

Fittingly, a thirty-odd euro Corbières was never mentioned as good or bad. The service was as slightly understaffed and flighty as ever – nothing to complain about at a corner café, but here, it feels like you’re paying for a bit more and not quite getting it.

I want to like this place as much as I did before. I want my meal to interrupt.

Au Bascou MAP
38, rue Réaumur,
75003 Paris
+33 1 42 72 69 25

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Thursday, May 07, 2009

Lunch by the numbers

Paris

Get there before it’s overrun with ministers.

Maybe because it’s brand new and hasn’t been discovered yet. Maybe it’s because it was a vacation week or just a slow day, but four of us had Le 122, smack in the heart of ministry central to ourselves.

Instead of that depressing, feel bad for the owners, ‘why are we whispering?’ feeling, it was perfect. The chef and his wife came over to talk once in a while and the waiter nosed in with an off the cuff crack that had huge crash and burn potential, but instead, he had read us perfectly.

Chef’s pedigree shows in his fish dishes like a toothy and full of flavor smoked sardine and anise-tomato marmelade appetizer and a cod pissaladière – a Provencal pizza cousin, this one doing a wonderful job of respecting the fish.

We share a Coteaux du Vendomois that Chef calls his wine of the month. It’s made by a friend of his and so good and well-priced, I hope everything on the wine list is made by his friends.

Dessert? Strawberries with a tea foam that sits in a glass bowl and looks like a floating flower.

A friend was supposed to leave early, instead, she asked for another spoon.

Le 122 MAP
122 rue de Grenelle
75007 Paris

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Tuesday, May 05, 2009

If your salivary glands haven’t kicked in, blow your nose

Call me a traitor, but here I go.

Though it might look like pink champagne, the apéro of the summer is a beer, and not one for the faint of heart.

Cantillon’s “Kriek 100% Lambic” is an eye-popper that will stand your taste buds happily on end.

It’s also a dive into the deep end of Belgian beer vocabulary. In short, lambics are natural fermentation beers that are aged for at least three years in oak barrels. A kriek, is a lambic (or a gueuze) made with sour cherries known as griottes.

While some companies have turned kriek into a sweet and sticky mess, those worth their salt are bracingly sour.

Cantillon’s kriek has just a hint of creamy suds on top and gets its cooked cherry color from the griottes. Poke your nose into the top of a glass and you’ll get a blast the grapefruit smell that is the hallmark of many good lambics, along with a hint of green apples. If your salivary glands haven’t kicked in by now, blow your nose.

Take a sip and you’ll get a kick of that fantastic sour and acidic grapefruit flavor.

If you can find any way to get your stomach and taste buds more ready for a meal, the comment box is one click away…

...

P.S. In Paris, I found my bottle at Pommier inside the Marché Beauvau - the covered market at Marché d’Aligre in the 11th arrondissement.

Cantillon has a handy place to start your quest with a partial list of wholesalers and places to buy your bottle here.

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Thursday, April 09, 2009

Leave the wine. Take the cannoli.

A quick pause from Belgian beer to say that when it comes to finding the best Italian in the 11th arrondissement, you win, Francois.

Last night, taking the advice of locals and friends, a sommelier friend and I went to Casa Vigata for Sicilian on rue Léon Frot for a hit and miss extravaganza.

The hits:
The Seafood – a clam and artichoke appetizer full of flavor and sauce made for bread dipping, whole-roasted octopus served with just a slice of lemon and a perfectly-cooked breaded swordfish main. Paris can be disastrous when you’re looking for good fish and these guys nail it.

The Cannoli – Leave the gun. The friendly owner makes these daily using a crispy shell, light, tangy ricotta and just a touch of candied orange peel. If there’s better in Paris I haven’t found it.

The misses:
Consistency: Our neighbors ordered two of the same dishes as we did; their octopus was cooked better (mine was slightly over) and their swordfish/caponata portions were significantly larger. They also got a shot of lemoncello with their check. The last is certainly at the owner’s discretion, but all three together leave a bitter taste.

The worst:
The wine – overpriced and, um, bad. A red Sicilian table wine for 40 euros? I love a good Nero d’Avola, but please.

It took us 10 minutes looking at the wine list to essentially decide how we were going to be fleeced and we still lost. My friend was talking about…something when I got distracted by a sip of the white we ordered…

Me: “This is bad.”
Sommelier friend: “Very bad.”

The verdict?
I’ll try again in a year. Maybe.

Casa Vigata MAP
44 rue Léon Frot
75011 Paris
+33.1.43.56.38.66

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Monday, March 09, 2009

Fair vins and following seas

Bad news, bar fans!

Even in Barcelona, word got to me that after decades of running one of my favorite spots for a Paris apéro, Elyette Planchon has hung up her high heels and sold Au Reve, her 18th arrondissement landmark bar, and retired. For the returning traveler, Elyette and Au Reve were the perfect way to feel back at home in the City of Light.

Not for lack of trying, but one of my biggest food regrets in Paris is never having had one of her semi-secret Wednesday lunches.

Sniff!

Instead of crying in my beer, let’s raise a glass of wine to Elyette, wish her well and do as it said on her apron – la geste qui sauve les vignerons* – take a sip.

* “The gesture that saves winemakers”

Click here to see my Boston Globe Travel article, “Paris dreams of things to come – after an apéro” which features Elyette and Au Reve

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Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Snail’s Grace

An old standby is a new favorite.

I’d been to L’Escargot, tucked away in the far reaches of Belleville, years ago when Canadian singer Sarah Slean and her entourage were in town and they turned to me for a place to go.

It’s been a bit too long to remember what we ate, but my favorite moment was when the diva’s dad turned to me and said, “That was the best meal we’ve had in France.”

Recently, I ate at L’Escargot a couple times in a two-week span – enough to notice that chef Frederic Valade had the guts to propose gizzards as a bar snack. Earning more points, I also learned he runs a triperie (hard-core butcher shop) down the street.

… but I’m putting the cart in front of the horse.

Like Mehdi As-Siyad at L’Incroyable, what Valade is doing is some of my favorite stuff in Paris right now – young chefs, making some seriously good food and having fun.

One night, Valade walked out into the open kitchen in a pink wig, then giant sunglasses, then a cabaret-style sequined hat, all of which would have made him look really dumb if the food wasn’t good.

Instead, his duck confît is among the best in town – crunchy on the outside, melting on the inside and packed with flavor. Add to the plate a little tower of mashed potatoes with truffle oil and a salad with a vinaigrette that keeps your taste buds awake and - Petit Fer A Cheval take note - you’ve got something comforting, luxurious and well-priced.

Almost every dish at L’Escargot is this good – a venison steak with winter vegetables, braised lamb shank that bursts with flavor, incredibly tender kangaroo (!) filet and ‘beef bo bun’ – a bowl of bite-sized seared flank steak in a lemongrass sauce.

Dessert? The only problem with the crispy crepe (think: thin cousin of a sugar cone, broken up, and shaped into a little puck of goodness nestled under a dense cloud of whipped cream) was that I got a little aggressive with my spoon and launched half of the dish onto the table and my lap.

I ate it anyway.

L’Escargot
50, rue de La Villette MAP
75019 Paris
+33 1 42 06 03 96

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Saturday, January 31, 2009

La Coupole

In nearly a decade living in Paris, I had never been to the Montparnasse brasserie La Coupole - it’s the Bostonian’s equivalent of never having been to Legal Sea Foods.

Part of the reason for not going was that I snobbishly avoid chains on principle and La Coupole is owned by the Flo group, which owns or bought up more a dozen brasseries in Paris and across Europe including Bofinger, Brasserie Flo and Julien.

I’d also be justified in staying away for nothing more than wanting to boycott those cheap-looking sandwich board that each Flo brasserie has out on the sidewalk advertising something like a 19-euro prix fixe menu. It looks like they pimped them from the semi-ubiquitous French steakhouse chain called Hippopotamus. I imagine the original owner of each brasserie groaning every time they walk past those things.

But the other afternoon, it was cold and we needed a coffee, went inside and I immediately wondered aloud why I had stayed away so long. Like brasserie Wepler, it’s got that great, big-town feeling that envelops you as soon as you walk through the door. Everything from the big, beautiful cupola that floats over the room to the waiters in their black and whites swooping around with big plates of shellfish to the sense of space the mammoth room affords – it all gives a sort of city comfort.

What I’d really like to applaud is the price of La Coupole’s coffee and hot chocolate. Though 4,10€ for cappuccino makes me groan, particularly considering the poor quality of most French coffee, I’d pay a similar price at my neighborhood café. La Coupole’s hot chocolate, made with high-end Valrhona chocolate, costs about the same and it beats the pants off the powdered junk with the pony on the label that most cafes use.

La Coupole MAP
102, bd du Montparnasse
75014 Paris
+33 1 43 20 14 20
http://www.flobrasseries.com/coupoleparis/

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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Switching From Work to Play

I arrived a few minutes early to lunch the other day at Auberge Pyrénées Cévennes and knew I was in good shape by watching the table of businessmen across the room.

Before the food arrived, everyone was fidgety – they clearly didn’t know each other too well and spent time pulling their cell phones from those goofy belt-holster things to check messages instead of talking with one another.

Their wine showed up and the mood lifted, but the big change came with the first plate. A fortysomething guy with glasses and salt and pepper hair watched a neighbor’s plate arrive and his face sort of melted. Then he switched to a big, childlike grin.

The noise level picked up noticeably as the plates arrived. Everyone was smiling. Suddenly, everyone had something to say. The bridge between business and pleasure had been crossed and one of the men lifted a glass and offered a toast.

“Bon appétit, les amis!”
…

Auberge Pyrénées Cévennes is not for the slightly peckish – this is the cuisine of la France profonde, complete with hunting lodge décor, and built for that kind of appetite: a standard lunch might be a big lentil salad, a wonderful cassoulet, and a fantastic tarte tatin that comes (as it should) with its own bowl of crème fraiche.

The 30-euro menu is more than you need at lunch (price included), but at dinner, it would just make you feel spoiled and happy.

Auberge Pyrénées Cévennes MAP
106, Rue de la Folie Méricourt
75011 Paris, France
+33 1 43 57 33 78

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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Duck Quackery

Thanks to a dinner at a friend’s house in Barcelona and another at one of my new Paris faves, l’Escargot, I’ve recently been lured back into loving confît de canard.

Crunchy on the outside, melting and moist on the inside, these two dinners reminded me why the dish is a classic.

This afternoon, however, at Le Petit Fer à Cheval – a Marais classic in its own right and a place that prides itself on the dish – I remembered why it’s been so long.

Allow me to work through my plate in reverse…

Yes, it’s winter and the selections at the vegetable stands are pretty grim at this time of year, but this was particularly depressing. There was a vague wave in the direction of seasonality with some cabbage, and there was even a bit of variety, but everything either squeaked on my teeth or was mushy.

C’mon guys…live a little and drizzle some olive oil on the steamed broccoli, try finishing the green beans with some butter and shallots or just punt and swap the veggies out for a salad. I love being in the Clean Plate Club, but not today.

The potatoes next to the veggies were hand cut and crunchy on the outside - Hooray! - but more than a few were crunchy on the inside, too. Ick.

Finally, the duck itself reminded me why I hadn’t had this dish in so long – it was crunchy on the outside (though I almost wonder if, considering the laziness of the preparation for the rest of the dish, they just crisped it up by throwing it into the Frialator with my spuds), but inside it was lifeless.

What’s frustrating is that I like this place – the well-dressed waiters, the U-shaped bar that gives the restaurant its name, the big wall clock that goes backward, the good Parisian feeling that you get here – but I think it’ll be a while before I come back.

I lied unconvincingly when my waiter asked me how it was but the kicker, and a good part of the reason why I’m writing this, was the ridiculous price tag: 20 euros (!!!) or the equivalent of 26 bucks. At L’Escargot, where I would eat it again and again, their confît comes with a potato puree with truffle oil and a beautiful salad for 17 euros.

Expensive and good I can deal with. Expensive and bad just makes me angry.

“Really?” I blurted out to the poor bartender.

“The duck is the specialty of the house,” he said.

It has nothing to do with the guy behind the bar, but quit insulting me.

L’Escargot MAP
50, rue de la Villette
75019 Paris
+33.1.42.06.03.96

Le Petit Fer à Cheval MAP
75004 Paris‎
+33.9.62.09.23.38‎

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Sunday, January 18, 2009

Go With Your Gut

I like to decide quickly what I’m going to eat in a restaurant. I usually have a good instinct for what will be good, and more particularly what won’t, and if I stare at the menu too long, I start feeling like I’m in a video store without knowing what to rent.

Despite a recent, glowing recommendation by you-know-who about Au Bascou’s Lievre à la Royale, (there’s a framed version of his Le Figaro review on the bar), I was curious to try the wild pigeon cooked two ways.

I love this kind of thing; a few years back while shooting pictures for a story about Spring restaurant, chef Daniel Rose served lamb three ways and I still remember the spoonful of tartare he slid under my nose. (Squirm all you want – more for me.)

Here at Au Bascou, the deep, earthy flavor of roast breast of wild pigeon reminded me why I love game, but les cuisses were the showstoppers: black-as-night thighs, legs and claws(!), on either side of the plate that looked like set pieces pinched from “The Dark Crystal.” I wondered aloud if they were to eat or just a gutsy garnish.

Me of little faith.

I took a bite and my hand did that thing where it involuntarily flies up in the faces of my dining companions, quaintly indicating something like ‘Shut up and let me taste this.’ The preparation - en salmi - a sauce made with the bird’s carcass and, as chef Bertrand Gueneron puts it, “lots of time bubbling away in wine,” give it a depth flavor that demands all of your attention.

Deep and primordial, it made me salivate so much, I almost drooled.

The service was a bit spotty – they seemed weirdly short-staffed and flighty for a place this nice – and two of us were crammed into strange theater chairs not made for eating, in but in one bite, a return customer was born.

Au Bascou MAP
38, rue Réaumur,
75003 Paris
+33 1 42 72 69 25

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