Sunday, August 31, 2003
CHOWING DOWN: LES FONTAINES
I've walked past this restaurant on rue Soufflot every day twice a day on my way to and from class in August and never once took notice of it. But there are hundreds of restaurants in Paris that look like Les Fontaines or are a close approximation of it so it's not surprising it never merited any attention. Besides, back in Toronto its' outdated decor would give one pause to think the food may be as equally uninspired.
The end of classes in August had spurred a round of farewell dinners. Earlier in the week I had attended another dinner with the anglophiles but it was a meal best forgotten; it was that bad. Later on I would go out with several of the Spanish-speaking students because they regard me Latin in personality (I think it must come from speaking with my hands and the fact I can't help but "sing" French the way they do). And I suppose being Asian gained me an invite with my Japanese classmates the night at Les Fontaines.
This place is the French equivalent of a greasy spoon diner but the food is arterial-cloggingly good. A couple of us started with the warm goat's cheese salad (salade de chevre chaud) which came nicely presented but was much too generous a serving with two rounds of goat's cheese. While we were settling on our dinner, we had noticed some beautiful slabs of beef filet in pastry headed to nearly every table around us so the choice as to main course seemed obvious. One of my classmates and I had decided to share the filet de boeuf en croute sauce foie gras avec pommes de terres so that we'd have room for the all important last course-- dessert. We ordered it sanglant (bloody) as suggested; the pastry was perfectly golden and crisp wrapped around meltingly tender beef. The slice of foie gras on top was pure decadence and sin as it melted into the sauce. We washed this down with a pichet of vin Bourgogne Ronommee which I've really no idea what it was. It's no Romanee-Conti but it was pleasant and I'm sure doing a good job at the same time of de-plaquing my arteries. One of my other classmates had ordered shrimp salad to start and escalope de saumon au confit l'echolote to follow. She enjoyed both courses but my advice to anyone dining here would be to stick with the meat.
I didn't really need dessert after this but I had the tarte tatin et la creme fraiche. It hit the right spot. Perfectly caramelized warm apples on top of a lovely crust. We skipped coffee because as much as I would have liked one it would have put me over.
When we had arrived for our 8PM reservation the restaurant was 1/3 to half full. By the time we were well into our meal the place was packed but three servers deftly managed this approximately 80-seat restaurant. What I loved about the experience was that apart from a table of English tourists we were surrounded by Parisians. You know you've happened upon the right place when that happens. This is not a place you go to for atmosphere but for extremely good old-fashioned food in lively surroundings. Dinner for three came to around 96 euros including a small additional gratuity of 10%.
Postnotes: I stopped by for coffee the following Monday. The same person who had worked at dinner on Saturday was now on the AM shift. I asked if he was the owner as his care and attention at the tables on Saturday left me with the impresson he could very well be but it turns out he's a manager and it's the chef who is owner. We started talking about the food which I told him had impressed upon me that night. He told me the chef shops not once but twice a day at the market and there is neither a microwave, freezer, nor vacuum-packaged food on the premises. That day's lunch menu which changes daily was already posted by the bar (some interesting dishes all about 10 euros each).
When another friend and I returned for dinner this past Saturday it was well past 10 PM by the time we realized we were hungry. I placed a quick call to the restaurant to confirm that the kitchen was still open. When we arrived at around 1030 there was a line-up by the bar and the dining room was absolutely packed. A different manager was on duty this evening but she showed the same care and attention to the dining room as her colleague from the previous evening. Against my better judgment I ordered fish-- St. Pierre aux 15 epices. It was perfectly cooked but the sauce with 15 spices which was somewhat curry in style didn't do much for me. Mostly, I prefer fish simply prepared with a bit of lemon and some very good butter or olive oil. Failing that, Chinese-style with hot oil and soy and slivers of green onions and ginger would do too.
Coordinates:
9, rue Soufflot 75005, tel 01.4326.4280. Closed Sundays
I've walked past this restaurant on rue Soufflot every day twice a day on my way to and from class in August and never once took notice of it. But there are hundreds of restaurants in Paris that look like Les Fontaines or are a close approximation of it so it's not surprising it never merited any attention. Besides, back in Toronto its' outdated decor would give one pause to think the food may be as equally uninspired.
The end of classes in August had spurred a round of farewell dinners. Earlier in the week I had attended another dinner with the anglophiles but it was a meal best forgotten; it was that bad. Later on I would go out with several of the Spanish-speaking students because they regard me Latin in personality (I think it must come from speaking with my hands and the fact I can't help but "sing" French the way they do). And I suppose being Asian gained me an invite with my Japanese classmates the night at Les Fontaines.
This place is the French equivalent of a greasy spoon diner but the food is arterial-cloggingly good. A couple of us started with the warm goat's cheese salad (salade de chevre chaud) which came nicely presented but was much too generous a serving with two rounds of goat's cheese. While we were settling on our dinner, we had noticed some beautiful slabs of beef filet in pastry headed to nearly every table around us so the choice as to main course seemed obvious. One of my classmates and I had decided to share the filet de boeuf en croute sauce foie gras avec pommes de terres so that we'd have room for the all important last course-- dessert. We ordered it sanglant (bloody) as suggested; the pastry was perfectly golden and crisp wrapped around meltingly tender beef. The slice of foie gras on top was pure decadence and sin as it melted into the sauce. We washed this down with a pichet of vin Bourgogne Ronommee which I've really no idea what it was. It's no Romanee-Conti but it was pleasant and I'm sure doing a good job at the same time of de-plaquing my arteries. One of my other classmates had ordered shrimp salad to start and escalope de saumon au confit l'echolote to follow. She enjoyed both courses but my advice to anyone dining here would be to stick with the meat.
I didn't really need dessert after this but I had the tarte tatin et la creme fraiche. It hit the right spot. Perfectly caramelized warm apples on top of a lovely crust. We skipped coffee because as much as I would have liked one it would have put me over.
When we had arrived for our 8PM reservation the restaurant was 1/3 to half full. By the time we were well into our meal the place was packed but three servers deftly managed this approximately 80-seat restaurant. What I loved about the experience was that apart from a table of English tourists we were surrounded by Parisians. You know you've happened upon the right place when that happens. This is not a place you go to for atmosphere but for extremely good old-fashioned food in lively surroundings. Dinner for three came to around 96 euros including a small additional gratuity of 10%.
Postnotes: I stopped by for coffee the following Monday. The same person who had worked at dinner on Saturday was now on the AM shift. I asked if he was the owner as his care and attention at the tables on Saturday left me with the impresson he could very well be but it turns out he's a manager and it's the chef who is owner. We started talking about the food which I told him had impressed upon me that night. He told me the chef shops not once but twice a day at the market and there is neither a microwave, freezer, nor vacuum-packaged food on the premises. That day's lunch menu which changes daily was already posted by the bar (some interesting dishes all about 10 euros each).
When another friend and I returned for dinner this past Saturday it was well past 10 PM by the time we realized we were hungry. I placed a quick call to the restaurant to confirm that the kitchen was still open. When we arrived at around 1030 there was a line-up by the bar and the dining room was absolutely packed. A different manager was on duty this evening but she showed the same care and attention to the dining room as her colleague from the previous evening. Against my better judgment I ordered fish-- St. Pierre aux 15 epices. It was perfectly cooked but the sauce with 15 spices which was somewhat curry in style didn't do much for me. Mostly, I prefer fish simply prepared with a bit of lemon and some very good butter or olive oil. Failing that, Chinese-style with hot oil and soy and slivers of green onions and ginger would do too.
Coordinates:
9, rue Soufflot 75005, tel 01.4326.4280. Closed Sundays
Labels: Chowing Down
Friday, August 29, 2003
CHOWING DOWN: A LA BICHE AU BOIS
One thing about me is this: I don’t care if I’m ever lost because this has sometimes led to the most unexpectedly interesting experiences, but I do care if I’m lost or without access to good food especially in Paris. Thus nearly every page of my Paris Plan has a sticky note with a small list of carefully researched restaurants, bistros, brasseries, or wine bars (not to mention jazz clubs) should I ever find myself lost or in an area in need a good meal, drink, or music. What some call an obsession I think of as good planning.
Today I had to meet a friend at the Bastille at 230 but then had to rush back to the Sorbonne before 4 o’clock. I had just gotten out of class and seeing that it was the second last class of the August session, I was keen on the idea of a break from my normal routine of reviewing the day’s lecture immediately after class. With my Paris plan in hand I checked my sticky notes for anything between the Sorbonne and the Bastille. A La Biche au Bois was calling me.
First impressions of a restaurant can often set the tone for the entire meal to follow. Given that I had just decided to go out for lunch I arrived at around 1PM to a nearly packed dining room with no reservation. At a time like this I put on my best “please have sympathy for me face” and ask somewhat apologetically if there is any possibility of a table. The hostess, who turned out also to be the proprietor, welcomed me as if I was a guest in her home and offered to seat me immediately in the dining room filled mainly with French business men.
A fellow Chowhound described A La Biche au Bois as a “genuine old-fashioned bistrot parisien” offering a “vrai Paris dining experience.” It was exactly that. The pretty dining room of closely packed tables were set with crisp white linens and silver. Any expectation of formality was supplanted by the two very engaging proprietors, a husband and wife team. A row of statuettes added a whimsical touch above the banquette-- some of a smiling chef with a wooden spoon in one hand and others of funky black characters.
When I returned from the toilette, an elderly lady has just arrived about to be seated at the empty table next to mine. My response when she asked if I wouldn’t mind changing tables with her made us fast friends. It turned out that she and her husband, who was just parking the car, typically dine here twice a week once each at lunch and at dinner.
The restaurant’s name roughly translates into “the doe in the woods.” It follows that game (les gibiers) is the house specialty but the season hadn’t quite yet arrived. The proprietor expected it would be on the menu by next week. He said it was being hunted as we speak and then proceeded to pretend shoot with his imaginary rifle into the air.
The reasonable set menu was 22.30 euros for three courses of one’s choosing from entrée, plat*, cheese, and dessert. In addition to the day’s special entrée and plat which were included in the set menu option, there were also a range of menu choices with only a few demanding a supplement. The recommendation from both the waiter and my friend at the next table was to commence with either the house-made terrine of duck or rabbit; I settled on “la terrine de canard.” My entrée of two generous slices of duck terrine served alongside a salad of butter lettuce and a pot of gherkins arrived within minutes of my order.
For the main course I ordered the day’s special, a rabbit stewed in white wine sauce with mash or “lapin au vin blanc en cassolette puree.” The main course was equally generous and I could immediately see that it was much bigger than my now nearly satiated appetite. The rabbit, a leg and I think two small pieces of breast, were very tender nearly falling off the bone. The accompanying white wine sauce was very light with delicate notes of thyme and reminded me of the sauce of my grandmother’s beef stew one of the few stews I still crave from childhood. It was a perfect sauce for smothering the mashed potatoes but not that they lacked flavour. The very creamy mash had comfort food written all over it. It was flavourful although different than what I’m used to which I guess comes from using crème fraîche instead of heavy cream. I’m also convinced any butter over here is better than the best that’s available on the other side of the Atlantic. In the end I couldn’t finish it all but I made an honourable attempt. Not only did I not have room for dessert or coffee but I had to head off for my 230 rendez-vous before I realized.
Lunch at A La Biche au Bois was more like a feast as my lunch of choice these days consists of cucumber slices, tomatoes, some cheese, sometimes bread, and a bit of wine when I really need to facilitate my comprehension of some particularly convoluted aspect of French grammar. The food was well executed and the experience so agreeable I wouldn’t hesitate to return, but I would in all likelihood prefer to try it at dinner when game is in season. Upon learning from my friend at the next table that there are sometimes line-ups, it would also be prudent to reserve ahead rather than leave a table to chance.
*Note: Entrée refers to what we call the appetizer in North America. Similarly, plat or les plats refer to the mains.
Coordinates:
45, ave Ledru-Rollin 75012, tel 01.4343.3438. Open daily for lunch & dinner except Sat & Sun
One thing about me is this: I don’t care if I’m ever lost because this has sometimes led to the most unexpectedly interesting experiences, but I do care if I’m lost or without access to good food especially in Paris. Thus nearly every page of my Paris Plan has a sticky note with a small list of carefully researched restaurants, bistros, brasseries, or wine bars (not to mention jazz clubs) should I ever find myself lost or in an area in need a good meal, drink, or music. What some call an obsession I think of as good planning.
Today I had to meet a friend at the Bastille at 230 but then had to rush back to the Sorbonne before 4 o’clock. I had just gotten out of class and seeing that it was the second last class of the August session, I was keen on the idea of a break from my normal routine of reviewing the day’s lecture immediately after class. With my Paris plan in hand I checked my sticky notes for anything between the Sorbonne and the Bastille. A La Biche au Bois was calling me.
First impressions of a restaurant can often set the tone for the entire meal to follow. Given that I had just decided to go out for lunch I arrived at around 1PM to a nearly packed dining room with no reservation. At a time like this I put on my best “please have sympathy for me face” and ask somewhat apologetically if there is any possibility of a table. The hostess, who turned out also to be the proprietor, welcomed me as if I was a guest in her home and offered to seat me immediately in the dining room filled mainly with French business men.
A fellow Chowhound described A La Biche au Bois as a “genuine old-fashioned bistrot parisien” offering a “vrai Paris dining experience.” It was exactly that. The pretty dining room of closely packed tables were set with crisp white linens and silver. Any expectation of formality was supplanted by the two very engaging proprietors, a husband and wife team. A row of statuettes added a whimsical touch above the banquette-- some of a smiling chef with a wooden spoon in one hand and others of funky black characters.
When I returned from the toilette, an elderly lady has just arrived about to be seated at the empty table next to mine. My response when she asked if I wouldn’t mind changing tables with her made us fast friends. It turned out that she and her husband, who was just parking the car, typically dine here twice a week once each at lunch and at dinner.
The restaurant’s name roughly translates into “the doe in the woods.” It follows that game (les gibiers) is the house specialty but the season hadn’t quite yet arrived. The proprietor expected it would be on the menu by next week. He said it was being hunted as we speak and then proceeded to pretend shoot with his imaginary rifle into the air.
The reasonable set menu was 22.30 euros for three courses of one’s choosing from entrée, plat*, cheese, and dessert. In addition to the day’s special entrée and plat which were included in the set menu option, there were also a range of menu choices with only a few demanding a supplement. The recommendation from both the waiter and my friend at the next table was to commence with either the house-made terrine of duck or rabbit; I settled on “la terrine de canard.” My entrée of two generous slices of duck terrine served alongside a salad of butter lettuce and a pot of gherkins arrived within minutes of my order.
For the main course I ordered the day’s special, a rabbit stewed in white wine sauce with mash or “lapin au vin blanc en cassolette puree.” The main course was equally generous and I could immediately see that it was much bigger than my now nearly satiated appetite. The rabbit, a leg and I think two small pieces of breast, were very tender nearly falling off the bone. The accompanying white wine sauce was very light with delicate notes of thyme and reminded me of the sauce of my grandmother’s beef stew one of the few stews I still crave from childhood. It was a perfect sauce for smothering the mashed potatoes but not that they lacked flavour. The very creamy mash had comfort food written all over it. It was flavourful although different than what I’m used to which I guess comes from using crème fraîche instead of heavy cream. I’m also convinced any butter over here is better than the best that’s available on the other side of the Atlantic. In the end I couldn’t finish it all but I made an honourable attempt. Not only did I not have room for dessert or coffee but I had to head off for my 230 rendez-vous before I realized.
Lunch at A La Biche au Bois was more like a feast as my lunch of choice these days consists of cucumber slices, tomatoes, some cheese, sometimes bread, and a bit of wine when I really need to facilitate my comprehension of some particularly convoluted aspect of French grammar. The food was well executed and the experience so agreeable I wouldn’t hesitate to return, but I would in all likelihood prefer to try it at dinner when game is in season. Upon learning from my friend at the next table that there are sometimes line-ups, it would also be prudent to reserve ahead rather than leave a table to chance.
*Note: Entrée refers to what we call the appetizer in North America. Similarly, plat or les plats refer to the mains.
Coordinates:
45, ave Ledru-Rollin 75012, tel 01.4343.3438. Open daily for lunch & dinner except Sat & Sun
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
ALMOST BACK TO NORMAL
Almost anywhere else the end of August marks a bit of sadness and a longing to extend whatever is left of summer. Although fall is my favourite season it is also a distant reminder that the dark days of winter are not far behind. There are already physical signs marking autumn in Paris-- fallen leaves, crisp morning air, and less daylight. But there is also a joy to the end of August. Life in Paris becomes "normal" again. Restaurants and shops throughout the city re-open for business after their annual August holidays. Gerard Mulot will resume business this week. The sign in Pierre Hermes' window advises that the shop will re-open tomorrow at 10AM. I've no doubt there will be a queue outside the door for their pastries. One Chowhound writes, "Pierre Herme pastry on a bench outside Saint Sulpice is a very good approximation of what a piece of heaven is." I have been waiting for a taste of heaven since the beginning of August. The end of this month couldn't have arrived any sooner for me.
Almost anywhere else the end of August marks a bit of sadness and a longing to extend whatever is left of summer. Although fall is my favourite season it is also a distant reminder that the dark days of winter are not far behind. There are already physical signs marking autumn in Paris-- fallen leaves, crisp morning air, and less daylight. But there is also a joy to the end of August. Life in Paris becomes "normal" again. Restaurants and shops throughout the city re-open for business after their annual August holidays. Gerard Mulot will resume business this week. The sign in Pierre Hermes' window advises that the shop will re-open tomorrow at 10AM. I've no doubt there will be a queue outside the door for their pastries. One Chowhound writes, "Pierre Herme pastry on a bench outside Saint Sulpice is a very good approximation of what a piece of heaven is." I have been waiting for a taste of heaven since the beginning of August. The end of this month couldn't have arrived any sooner for me.
