Happy Bastille Day! While la fête nationale is celebrated every year on le 14 juillet in France, FIAF's annual street fest took place two days ago in la Nouvelle-York. Below is a sampling from this year's Bastille Day on 60th Street.
Booths offering freshly prepared Gallic snacks and packaged foods lined the three blocks between Fifth and Lexington Avenues.
Simply Gourmand featured a number of items for the pantry, including the extra-spicy AmoraL'Extra Forte Dijon mustard. (The quotidian Amora is the analogous Gallic version of French's "classic" American yellow mustard.)
A notch or two higher is the delicious Maille, whose Cognac mustard is outstanding. Other flavors include Noix, Bleu, Basilic, and Crème de Cassis de Dijon.
Merguez on the grill
Mange-ing merguez on le 14 is akin to eating hot dogs on the Fourth; having this grilled lamb sausage is de rigueur on Bastille Day.
While merguez is typically served within a sandwich stateside, the sausage is eaten sans bread—using knife and fork—in France. Alas, in Le Souk's Franco-American adaptation, the baguette masked much of the flavor of the spicy little sausages.
Le Souk's merguez sandwich
As in Paris, there were crêpe stands everywhere. Unlike Paris, however, these thin pancakes were considerably larger and far less delicate than their French cousins.
The most popular (and slowest) among the foregoing stands was that of the Crêpe Café, whose filling choices included traditional sugar, Nutella, ice cream, and the all-time French classic, PB & J.
Crêpe Café's culinary artists know the drill
Even after seeing how it was prepared, I rather enjoyed the simple butter sugar crêpe.
Butter sugar crêpe
Other sweets included the canelé, a Bordelais speciality. This baked delight consists of a dark, caramelized shell encasing a moist, custard-like center. In Bordeaux, it's often served with crème anglaise.
The sweet treats from Canelé by Céline were good enough to be served in Bordeaux.
Canelés, Salted Almond and Plain Mini Financiers
Vanilla Canelé
As always, the chocolatine, er, pain au chocolat from Olivier Dessyn's Mille-Feuille was excellent.
The pastries of Mille-feuille
Some tasty freebies …
Savory milk and dark chocolate samples from Magique
For this year's bûche de Noël, I returned to one of my favorite French pastry shops on the Upper East Side. When last I purchased a Yule log (a sinful Saumur) from Payard, it was at the pâtisserie's original site at 1032 Lexington Avenue—a hallowed space that once housed the delightful Délices La Côte Basque, and its desirous successor, Désirs La Côte Basque. After the inexplicably long hiatus, I felt a bûche from Payard was overdue.
Beyond having relocated one block east to 1293 Third Avenue (next to J.G. Melon), Payard has added several new locations in Manhattan, as well as branches in Las Vegas, Japan, and Korea. Payard's expansion and continued success should come as no surprise to anyone. A third-generation pâtissier, François Payard found himself immersed in the art of pastry while growing up around his grandfather's acclaimed Au Nid des Friandises in Nice, France. After burnishing his skills under the tutelage of his family, Mr. Payard left the French Riviera for Paris, where he became the pastry chef at the venerable La Tour d’Argent, and later at Alain Senderens at Lucas Carton. After Paris, where else but New York? In August of 1997, following successful stints at Le Bernadin and Restaurant Daniel, François Payard opened his eponymous pâtisserie and bistro at the aforementioned Lexington Avenue address.
Payard's selection of bûches de Noël this year seemed more tempting yet than what I could recall from my last visit: Chestnut Cassis (vanilla bean pound cake with candied chestnut mousse, cassis crémeux, and poached cassis); Chocolate & Berries (milk and dark chocolate mousse, chocolate flourless cake, raspberry, strawberry, and currant jam, and raspberry crémeux); Caramel Chocolate (sablé breton topped with caramel mascarpone, salted caramel chocolate mousse, and chocolate cake); and the Louvre (layers of chocolate and hazelnut mousse, with a crispy hazelnut wafer, hazelnut dacquoise cake, and dark chocolate glaze). The foregoing bûches were available in sizes of four ($28), six ($42), and eight ($56) servings.
Left to Right: Chestnut Cassis, Chocolate & Berries, and Caramel Chocolate
The Louvre log (6p, $42)
Though each was extremely appealing, I chose the six-serving Louvre, a work of art worthy of its name. This rich, decadent bûche delivered the sort of complexity not normally found in such a confection. The various levels of hazelnut, chocolate, and cake, each with its own flavor and texture, were coated in an exquisite dark chocolate ganache, and embellished with macaron "mushrooms." François Payard's Louvre elevates the Yule log to a veritable art form.
All the artistry comes at the expense of tradition and verisimilitude, however. Payard's bûches lack the rustic look and feel of a log. Absent are the nubs, the bark-textured frosting, and the meringue mushrooms. That said, it's hard to find fault with Payard's exquisite pastry; it's among the finest I've tasted.
Layers of chocolate and hazelnut mousse, a crispy hazelnut wafer, and hazelnut dacquoise cake
Finally, to add a little Christmas spirit to the Louvre log, a glass of Frangelico is the perfect accompanying libation.
FP Pâtisserie
1293 Third Avenue (near 74th Street), Upper East Side, Manhattan (map)
One of my favorite desserts this time of year is the bûche de Noël, or Yule log. As its name and shape suggest, this iconic French confection represents the European tradition of burning a large log in the hearth to celebrate Christmas and the winter solstice. Today, the name bûche is used, almost exclusively, to refer to the softer, comestible log.
8" Grand Marnier Bûche de Noël from Ceci-Cela
Essentially, a bûche de Noël (pronounced büsh dih noh·ELL, where ü refers to the German ü or the French u sound) is a génoise (or similar sponge cake) roll, filled with buttercream, and frosted to look like tree bark. Ends are often sliced off and fused to the top to resemble stubs of severed branches. Furthermore, meringue mushrooms are typically included as an edible decoration to the log. Many creative pasty chefs even insert diminutive plastic saws and axes to round out the arborcultural motif.
As it has in various Yuletides past, our bûche came from Ceci-Cela this year. Known for its made-from-scratch délices, this NoLita pâtisserie française has long been a favorite of mine. Pastry chef Laurent Dupal, a native of Nancy, France, began his rise when he embarked on his study of baking at the age of 13. Classically trained at the prestigious Compagnons du Devoir du Tour de France, Dupal produces masterly pastries of all sorts.
While a chocolate buttercream filling is traditional, I opted for Grand Marnier this time. Irrespective of flavor, two aspects of this dessert are critical to my delectation: restrained sweetness and spongy texture. When the foregoing elements are at their peak, my enjoyment is practically assured. Chef Dupal met both criteria in grand style to yield a bûche that delighted my senses with simple, fresh, and delicate flavors rolled into a beautiful and complex presentation. But why was the Grand Marnier frosting pink?
While my Comestaccomplice enjoyed the Yule log without additional flavoring, I found that a drizzle of Grand Marnier added the perfect finishing touch. Of course, an accompanying glass of the liqueur was de rigueur.
Ceci-Cela
55 Spring Street (near Lafayette Street),
NoLita, Manhattan (map)
My first taste of Pascal's came in January, long before I ever had the pleasure of dining at this Westchester gem. For me, it started with the following email invitation from a reader named Renée Powell: "Should you ever find yourself in Larchmont, please stop by my little Restaurant Pascal's for some delicious French food." I'm not sure why I waited so long to visit, for it was surely too long—and nearly too late. On Sunday, 8 July 2012, the restaurant closed its doors to the public for the last time.
The Pascal's story began long before that email, however. Renée's idea to open a restaurant was conceived decades earlier, amid her studies in Paris. While she was in college, and her brother Rogers at cooking school, the two made a pact to some day operate their own restaurant together. "I'll manage it, and you'll chop your salads: Win-win," she told him. The idea languished, however; ten years would pass with nary another mention of it.
Having spent some 20 years in France, Powell, a Bronx native, returned to New York in 1992. It was there she met Pascal, who, at the time, was the maître d' of La Côte Basque. In 1998, Renée posed the question that would alter the course of their lives: "If you had one wish for your future, even if it were impossible to reach, what would it be?" "I always wished I had my own restaurant," replied Pascal. With that brief exchange, the long dormant sibling pact had been resuscitated.
In June of the following year, Renée posited the idea of opening a restaurant with Pascal and Rogers. The two men dismissed her proposal summarily, citing what she called "a laundry list of reasons why it would be impossible to do." At the time, Rogers and his family resided in Larchmont. Renée, meanwhile, was looking to leave Manhattan, and to move closer to her brother. Undaunted by the utter disinclination of her potential business partners, she decided to pursue a restaurant site on her own.
The first space shown to her was that of the erstwhile Hope and Anchor at 141 Chatsworth Avenue, just up the hill from the Metro-North station, in Larchmont—a mere block from her brother. "I had to have it!" she remembers. Upon seeing the place, however, Rogers and Pascal declared it to be "a dump." As they turned and walked away from Renée, she yelled out to them, "Hey boys!! That's not a dump; it is your restaurant, you just don't know it yet." In late September, Ms. Powell had a little surprise for her bro and her beau. "All they needed to do was to sign the paperwork," she said. Sign they did, and, in November of 1999, became the proud owners of a restaurant. In February, following a three-monthlong renovation, the Powell pact had finally become a reality: Rogers cheffed de cuisine, Pascal maîtred de dining room, and Pascal's was ouvert for business.
Pascal's first two years were acclivitous, however, as the elegant, upscale restaurant français struggled to carve out its niche in Gotham suburbia. As flounder turned to founder, Renée bought out Rogers and Pascal, assuming sole proprietorship of the business in 2002. Her brother left to work at the French Culinary Institute in New York, while her boyfriend donned the toque blanche to become the restaurant's eponymous chef. Following substantial adjustments to the menu, Pascal's finally hit its stride. In 2010, however, a new chef, necessitated by Chef Pascal's initial retirement, failed to maintain that momentum. "My customers showed their dissatisfaction by boycotting my restaurant," recalls Powell. To rescue her business, she asked Pascal to return to the kitchen in 2011. He acquiesced, with the understanding that his reprise would endure only a year or so. That year has elapsed. "Time's up," says Renée, "Pascal is retired."
The last couple of weeks were emotionally charged as many longstanding customers returned for their final taste of Pascal's fabulous French fare. What a privilege to have been a part of it!
Below are some of the dishes that delighted my palate as the sun descended on Pascal's … and Larchmont.
To begin the parade of comestibles, Renée opened a couple of bottles of her favorite wine, Edge Cabernet Sauvignon. (Yes, Napa Valley, not France.)
Soupe à l'Oignon Gratinée
The starters were magnifique! It's no surprise that Pascal's Soupe à l'Oignon Gratinée was recognized as the "Best French Onion Soup in Larchmont." Unlike many others, this one actually tasted of onion without confounding the palate with excessive seasoning.
Video: Renée Powell describes two popular starters
Roasted tomatoes, squash, and ratatouille atop the Tarte Méditerranéenne's delicate puff pastry and truffle vinaigrette, yielded the sort of Nice flavors found along the Côte d'Azur.
Tarte Méditerranéenne
When cut, the warm goat cheese of the excellent Pomme au Chèvre Chaud burst out of its roasted golden apple enclosure onto a bed of lettuce with honey-mustard vinaigrette.
Pomme au Chèvre Chaud
While I'm not usually very fond of mussels, Pascal's Moules Bourguignonnes made quite an enthusiast of me. The marvelous mollusks were gloriously garlicky, and the subjacent sauce was doubly delicious when blotted with bread.
Moules Bourguignonnes
Additional allium, this time in the Escargots à la Méridionale—a superb starter of snails stuffed with garlic in a bubbling-hot parsley butter.
Escargots à la Méridionale
My favorite cold plates usually involve some sort of cured salmon. Pascal's House Gravlax—accompanied by lemons, capers, and toast—did not disappoint.
House Gravlax
Of course, warm salmon is a favorite of mine as well. The Sautéed Fillet of Salmon in a white wine mustard sauce was a splendid main—cooked perfectly and seasoned judiciously. Served with a risotto cake and steamed mixed vegetables, the whole combination was highly satisfying.
Sautéed Fillet of Salmon
Renée's dish was the evening's clear winner, however. Her Sautéed Fillet of Basa Meunière was outstanding!
Basa, a type of catfish, lends itself perfectly to the rustic meunière (literally, "miller's wife") preparation. The fish is dredged in flour, sautéed, and served in a lemon-butter sauce. Mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables were civilized plate partners. Though I've tried this dish but once, I miss it already!
Sautéed Fillet of Basa Meunière
Other fine mains I sampled included the classics Canard à l'Orange (roasted duck in orange sauce) and Chicken Cordon Bleu (breaded chicken breast stuffed with Gruyère and prosciutto in a tarragon sauce). Both were tasty and well-executed.
Canard à l'Orange
Chicken Cordon Bleu
The dessert list contained several time-honored sweets, including one of my all-time favorites, Crêpes Suzette. For me, this exquisite flambéed crêpe dish, served in a sauce of Grand Marnier, orange juice, zest, caramelized sugar, and butter, represents one of life's great pleasures.
Crêpes Suzette
Additionally, my sweet tooth was treated, so to speak, with a superior custard filling of Crème Brûlée (literally, "burnt cream") and Crème Caramel. (My dentist will surely appreciate the results.)
Crème Brûlée
Crème Caramel
My last spoonful of dessert was bittersweet, however; I knew this course would truly be my last at Pascal's.
Andrew and Michelle at the bar
As a way to thank her customers for their years of loyalty, Renée hosted a farewell cocktail party with plenty of goodies on Sunday, 8 July. Below are some of the highlights of Pascal's final day:
The Comestibles:
Some of the Good-byes:
About her past 12 years as a restaurateur, Powell says, "I loved all my customers, which made this past journey worthwhile and very often fun." Nevertheless, she expressed regret over her lack of personal time for family, community, and a social life: "We were wrapped into this restaurant … from the moment we woke up to the moment we went to sleep." When asked about the media coverage of Pascal's closing, Renée bristles at the negative comments on local websites concerning Larchmont landlords. Wishing to set the record straight, she emphasizes, "I loved mine, as he made everything easy for me. He made my departure very, very sweet." What's next for Renée Powell? "Florida!" she exclaims with gusto.
As they departed, some of the regulars (for whom Renée had created a name-inscribed dinner plate) received their personalized plate as a precious memento.
With the last guests taking their leave, the Provençal-yellow dining room began to appear forlorn; its chairs, banquettes, and tables, now empty. Pascal's was not a trendy place. Rather, it was a comfortable spot, offering a traditional elegance that attracted a mature clientele. Sadly, this sort of restaurant is becoming increasingly scarce. "It was the last bastion of civilization in Larchmont," said one of the final guests. While I'm not sure why I waited so long to visit, I'm grateful it wasn't too late.
Comestiblab: Although cuisine refers to a style of cooking in English, it means "kitchen" in French. (The modern word comes from Old French, from the Late Latin coquina, from the Latin coquere, to cook.) And while chef connotes a skilled cook in English, it generally signifies a head, or chief, in French. Ergo, a chef is really a chef de cuisine, or "head of the kitchen," and a head chef is a "head head."
Maître d', meaning "master of" in French, is a truncation of maître d'hôtel. Thus, the person in charge of a dining room and its staff is, essentially, "master of the house."
In early September, 45 executive chefs and culinary leaders embarked on a tour of France to immerse themselves in French culture as well as to hone their Gallic cooking skills. They visited renowned vineyards, food producers, and restaurants. Starting in Paris, the Omni group attended Palais des Thés tea training; visited caves at famed Champagne maker Nicolas Feuillatte and winemaker Maison Champy in Burgundy; toured vineyards and participated in the harvest in the Loire Valley and Bordeaux, including Domaine Pascal Jolivet, Domaine de la Perrière, Le Club Mouton Cadet, Château Belgrave, and Château Cantemerle; and learned about mustard preparation with Moutarde Fallot.
Left to Right: Daven Wardynski, John Brand, and Ron Ulczak
Three of Omni's top executive chefs—Daven Wardynski of 676, Chicago; John Brand of Las Canarias, San Antonio; and Ron Ulczak of Fireside, New York—demonstrated their craft, and served up a delicious selection of flavors from the new menu. Below is a taste of my dégustation.
A great way to whet one's appetite and wet his whistle is with a glass or three of Champagne. I've always enjoyed the bubbles of Nicolas Feuillatte and am particularly fond of the rosé.
Nicolas Feuillatte Champagnes: Rosé (left) and Brut (right)
I began with the gougères, one of my favorite hors d'œuvre. It always seems impossible to eat just one of these savory little cheese pastries. With perfect texture and just the right degree of cheese intensity, these gougères went quickly, and provided a good indication of what was to follow.
Gougères
The Butternut Squash Soup, made with apple cider, was simple and seasonal. The cream on top made it smooth and sinful as well. What a fine dish to warm an autumn day.
Butternut Squash Soup
I found the Salad with Duck Confit and Roasted Beets to be incommensurate with the other offerings. The fowl was slightly chewy, and its flavors lacked the richness I expected from a preparation of this sort.
Salad with Duck Confit and Roasted Beets
Chef Daven Wardynski discusses the preparation of his Wild Mushroom Ragoût rolls
Combining several varieties of mushroom within fried feuilles de brick, the Wild Mushroom Ragoût rolls with Chervil Butter Sauce were a wildly appetizing starter.
Wild Mushroom Ragoût Roll with Chervil Butter
Chef John Brand describes his Magret de Canard
One of the highlights of the afternoon was the succulent Magret de Canard (duck breast). Flavorful and cooked to perfection, it paired beautifully with berry-and-black currant flavors of the Maison Bouachon Côtes-du-Rhône Les Rabassières 2009 (60% Grenache, 30% Syrah, and 10% Mourvèdre). Très bien.
Magret de Canard
Perhaps the most successful dish that afternoon, however, was the Short Ribs of Wagyū Beef. Braised in red wine with pearl onions and baby carrots, this exquisite adaptation of the classic Bœuf Bourguignon played like a symphony on the palate. Nowhere are the benefits of slow cooking more evident than in this flavorful, tender, melt-in-the-mouth concoction. Merveilleux!
Braised Short Ribs of Beef
Chef Daven Wardynski talks about preparing Loup de Mer
The next tasty preparation came from the sea. The Loup de Mer (Mediterranean sea bass; literally, "wolf of the sea") was flaky, with skin that was seared to a delicious golden-brown. While I found the dish to be nicely seasoned, some might have deemed it a bit salty. In any case, the fish and its accompanying confit of baby potatoes, morels, and Carmellini beans benefited from the slight acidity of the Fallot mustard sauce. Délicieux.
Loup de Mer
And more from the sea. My loyal reader will recall that, owing to a food allergy, scallops are, alas, not part of my diet. Who knows, these may have been the best sea scallops I never ate.
Seared Sea Scallops
Beyond discussing French cooking, Chef Daven Wardynski talked about the importance of local sourcing and preparation. He implements the farm-to-table concept at the most local level by using his rooftop garden in Chicago to grow the produce for his restaurant.
Chef Daven Wardynski discusses the importance of local sourcing
Before advancing to the sweet course, I sampled the cheeses—all eight of them. The selection from Murray's included the malodorous Époisses, the pungent Pont-l'Évêque, the aromatic-yet-mild Morbier, the regal Comté Saint-Antoine, the assertive Bleu d'Auvergne, the pyramidal (goat's milk) Valençay, the triple-crème (75% butterfat) Brillat-Savarin, and the nutty Secret du Couvent. It was hard to pick a favorite.
Left to Right: Bleu d'Auvergne, Valençay, Brillat-Savarin, and Secret du Couvent.
Finally, it was time for dessert. The rich, creamy, Valrhona Chocolate Pot de Crème with fresh berries afforded a decadent ending to this epicurean extravaganza. As in France, the finish was sweet without being cloying. Supremely silky and satisfying. Magnifique!
Chocolate Pot de Crème
I saved one of the custom-crafted cocktails for last. The creamy blend of Chambord, Chambord Vodka, fresh raspberries, half-and-half, and a touch of ice cream was a playful variation of a milkshake. It was a veritable second dessert.
Chambord "Milkshake"
Omni created this program through a partnership with the French Ministry of Agriculture & Fisheries, represented by Sopexa USA, an agency dedicated to the promotion of French food, wine, and lifestyle in the United States.
Omni's "Simmer Sauté Santé" package, available at select hotels and resorts, offers a culinary immersion weekend including deluxe accommodations, a wine-and-cheese welcome, a cooking and wine-pairing demonstration with an Omni chef, an all-inclusive French dinner, and a thank-you gift with aprons, French wine, recipes, and a micro-planer. Another guest package—"French Toast!"–is offered over New Year's Eve only, enabling guests to enjoy a French dinner with Champagne to ring in the New Year, breakfast with a Champagne cocktail, and a late check-out upon request. Both packages range from $299 to $700.
To learn more about "Simmer Sauté Santé - The Flavors of France," including menus, wine lists, photos and videos from the trip and recipes, visit Omni's Culinary Stirrings website. Guests can also visit omnihotels.com or call 1-800-THE-OMNI. Follow Omni Hotels & Resorts at twitter.com/omnihotels or at twitter.com/omnihotelsPR.
One benefit of the Dine In Brooklyn promotion is its annual roll call of restaurants that have escaped my attention. Canaille, on the fringes of Park Slope, is an example of such a place. Though it's been around since October of 2007, I'd not heard of this Fifth Avenue French bistro previously. Its website, however, seemed rather appealing and gave all indications of being a safe $25 bet.
Some of Brooklyn's most popular eateries are fully booked before restaurant week even begins. Since Canaille (pronounced kuh·NYE) opens at 6:00 P.M. and does not accept reservations, I arrived early to avoid disappointment. Though my fears of competing for a table were unfounded, there was ample disappointment nonetheless.
For the better part of an hour, my Comestaccomplice and I had the entire bistro to ourselves. Although the (effectively) private dining room was pleasant, it signaled a problem. From what I could tell, the lack of customers was not due to the cooking or the décor. Rather, it seemed to all boil down to a single component: co-owner Philippe de Crespi, a native Parisian whose contemptuous arrogance is exceeded only by his bad attitude. His demeanor suggested annoyance with our presence. He appeared to be suspicious, nay, disdainful, of anyone temerarious enough to enter his establishment. Even the name Canaille (a pejorative term that refers to the riffraff or the unwashed masses) affords an insight into his regard for his clientele (or lack thereof). The friendliness of co-owner Marie MacLean, on the other hand, provided a warm antidote to her partner's disagreeable behavior. Her pleasant, nearly apologetic tone was not enough to overcome Monsieur de Crespi's insuperable imperiousness, however.
Aside from the aforementioned situation, there seems to be no reason for this business to be foundering. What de Crespi lacks in personality, he can almost offset with his cooking. With part-time assistance from Lyonnais Chef Christophe over the past year, the kitchen is in competent hands. Our meals were really quite tasty.
Philippe's background as a sommelier and his predilection for French wines are evident in Canaille's well-chosen, albeit overpriced, wine list. Except for the Domaine Saint-Vincent Brut NV (from New Mexico), every wine comes from France. Our choice of the crisp 2008 Jean Rosen Pinot Blanc from Alsace turned out to be a fine match for the courses to come.
Tapénade hors d'œuvre
Comprising two starters, three main courses, and two desserts, the Dine In Brooklyn menu was somewhat spare, and not all that representative of the bistro's regular carte. We began with complimentary southern French hors d'œuvre of garlicky tapénade and toast. Before we even had the chance to amuse our gueules, however, de Crespi asked us whether we were going to eat it. Franchement! Happily, we saw more of Marie than of Philippe the rest of the evening.
Citrus Salad
Carrot Cumin Soup
Having tried both available offerings, we felt that our starters lived up to expectations. Though my companion's Citrus Salad (mixed greens with orange and grapefruit segments, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar) was fresh and appetizing, it was not much more than a good salad. My Carrot Cumin Soup was a better choice. Velvety, and tasting exactly as advertised, it's a dish I'd order again. Both starters were prepared well using ingredients appropriate to the season.
Tarragon Chicken Linguine
Our mains were somewhat mixed. While my Comestaccomplice's Tarragon Chicken Linguine (tarragon-braised fowl, pasta, and julienned carrots and zucchini) was satisfying, it was predictably ordinaire. (Perhaps she'd have fared better with the third option of Moules Frites.) My main course, on the other hand, was superb. Served atop a split pea purée, the Pork Butt Confit was mouthwateringly flavorful, succulent, and tender. The leguminous accompaniment to the pork's subtle seasoning was a succès éclatant.
Pork Butt Confit
For dessert, we were given the choice between banal and dull. Both of us rejected the Milk Chocolate Roll in favor of the Crème Caramel. The custard was just as we expected it to be—nothing more, nothing less.
Crème Caramel
To his credit, Philippe de Crespi turns out respectable comestibles. While I consider some of his dishes worthy of another visit, his demeanor is simply too deterring to warrant a return. Until he recognizes the extent to which his personality is militating against his success, it's improbable his bistro will thrive. How can any business prosper if it treats its customers like canaille?
Canaille Bistro Français
78 Fifth Avenue (between St Marks & Prospect Pls), Park Slope, Brooklyn
Dine-In Brooklyn was winding down, it was rainy, dark, and becoming late. Where to eat? Several unsuccessful attempts to score a last-minute reservation ultimately led to an enthusiastic availability at Chez Oskar in Fort Greene. I'd passed the French-style bistro on several occasions but never paid it much heed. But what the heck? The situation was becoming desperate enough to warrant a $23 gamble.
Chez Oskar is a lively place that seems quite at home in this diverse neighborhood. It could best be described as a bistro à la Brooklyn—casual, funky, and comfortable. The service is friendly and the food is good, but I'd restrain any praise beyond that.
Country Pâté
I seldom surrender to cravings involving cholesterol-laden foods, but the Country Pâté sounded the most promising among the five starters on the restaurant-week menu. Though the presentation was attractive, the taste failed to live up to the promise. Bland and uninspired, this dish made me rue my dietary transgression. It's a pity that the comparably priced escargots or the slightly more expensive salmon-and-tuna tartare were not offered. Perhaps they would have made a better first impression.
Lamb Shank
The five main course offerings—comprising fish, chicken, lamb, beef, and mushroom risotto—were ostensibly well-chosen, appealing to a broad array of tastes. Owing to the weather, I ordered the Lamb Shank to help defend against the chill that awaited me outside. The meat, tender enough to fall off the bone, was served with fingerling potatoes, artichokes, sautéed endives, and pomegranate sauce. The resulting concoction tasted much like a lamb stew. While not bad, it was unremarkable and rather ordinary. Statistically speaking, it seemed fitting that, among les plats of my two Comestaccomplices, mine ranked squarely in the middle.
Free Range Chicken
As at Pó Brooklyn, the fowl was a better choice here. The Free Range Chicken with pancetta-potato gratin, caramelized onions, fava beans, and red wine sauce was rather tasty, albeit unexceptional. Instead of educing flavor from the chicken, however, the sauce's role was reduced to that of an inoffensive, unassuming accompaniment to the bird. It was a pleasant dish that would have benefited from a more aggressive sauce. Perhaps I was foolishly expecting something a bit more akin to a coq au vin.
Lemon and Garlic Crusted Codfish
The Lemon-and-Garlic Crusted Codfish was the weakest of the main courses I sampled. Served with poached leeks, potato crisp, and whole grain mustard vinaigrette, this offering could be aptly described as an insipid piece of fish with a few embellishments. Unfortunately, its plate mates were too bland to rescue the foundering cod.
Sweet Apple Crêpes
Desserts were commensurate with the courses that preceded them—lots of promise unfulfilled. I'm not sure why I had high hopes for the Sweet Apple Crêpes. They certainly looked good. The dry, flavorless pancakes with caramelized apples left me as cold as the accompanying cinnamon ice cream, however. Although the Warm Chocolate Cake with vanilla ice cream was slightly better, it failed to catapult my taste buds into cacao ether. None of us was tempted by the Mango Crème Caramel.
Warm Chocolate Cake
Unfortunately, none of our dishes seemed to cross the threshold that separates the extraordinary from the ordinary. Most of the flavors failed to soar and some never even managed to take flight. Nevertheless, Chez Oskar's following has continued to keep it afloat since 1998. In terms of the $23 gamble, we probably broke even. This is a good neighborhood bistro, but scarcely worth a trip on the G train.
Liberté, égalité, and fraternité will be celebrated slightly early again in Gotham this year.
Manhattan
On Sunday, 12 July, from 12:00 Noon till 6:00 P.M., everyone is invited to celebrate Bastille Day on 60th Street, New York's "street fair with French flair." The three-block fête takes place between Fifth and Lexington Avenues. Enjoy Gallic delicacies at one of the many pique-nique tables provided.
By train: N,R,W to 5th Avenue or Lexington Avenue; 4,5,6 to 59th Street
On Tuesday, 14 July, le quatorze juillet, Cercle Rouge brings Bastille Day festivities to TriBeCa. From 12:00 Noon till 8:00 P.M., pétanque sand courts, football de table (foosball), and entertainment will fill the block on West Broadway between Beach and White Streets. Mangez traditional merguez sausages and frites while sipping Lillet, Deutz champagne, or another favorite libation.
On Sunday, Smith Street becomes Rue Smith when it hosts Brooklyn's Bastille Day festivities. Both Bar Tabac and Provence en Boîte will hold all-day celebrations featuring French food, drink, and pétanque tournaments.
When last I dined at this Bay Ridge bistro, it was called Provence en Boîte. Although owners Jean-Jacques and Leslie Bernat have since packed up and relocated their Provençal "box" to Boerum Hill, this space retained its Gallic flavor when Jerome Vidy reopened it as Saint Germain in August, 2004. (The name, incidentally, comes from the Left Bank district in Paris around the quartier latin, or Latin quarter—an historic area known for its literary and artistic life.) I've wanted to try the Third Avenue namesake of Saint-Germain-des-Prés for some time, but have always considered the prices un peu cher. This spring's Dine-In Brooklyn, however, afforded me an affordable occasion to sample their cuisine.
Being seated at my favorite table brought back memories of this bistro's previous incarnation. Little has changed in the dining room since my last visit: guests must still pass the enticing dessert showcase upon entering; the bar still stands along the wall beyond the confections; and the banquette still lines the opposite wall. Though the cooking has remained French, the service has not. (I miss the Bernat's lovely niece, a delightful French serveuse.)
The special prix-fixe menu (please see below) comprised four starters, four main courses, and seemingly countless desserts. It offered a well-chosen selection, mostly from the regular menu. The unaccustomed generosity of the promotional portions came as quite a pleasant (and satisfying) surprise.
My Kir Royale apéritif set the tone for the first course. Its rosy effervescence made a delightful partner to the smoked salmon platter. The sparkling wine, combined with the sweet influences of the cassis, complemented the rich smokiness of the fish as well as the piquancy of the caper garnish. Generously portioned and served with toast and lettuce, this was a marvelous starter. Interestingly, the salmon platter does not appear on the regular menu, though it probably should.
Smoked salmon platter with toast and lettuce
I should have ordered wine for my second round. Instead, I succumbed to the seductive appeal of the Brigitte Bardot cocktail. The mixture of lemon vodka, triple sec, and sparkling French pink lemonade sounded better than it tasted. What was I thinking? (I wonder whether I'll fall victim to Wild Love or a Screaming Orgasm next time.)
Onward to the main course. Since I had a hankering for meat, I chose the Flank Steak au Poivre with pommes frites. Popular in French kitchens, this cut comes from a part of the cow that normally receives considerable exercise. While quite lean, the flank can be somewhat tough and stringy. Thus, it requires rapid cooking on high heat. As for my steak, it was slightly tough (predictably), but very flavorful, and cooked almost perfectly. I say almost because it was not quite so rare as I'd requested—a minor point, overall. The peppercorn sauce (made with green peppercorns, brandy, and cream) was consistent with my expectations: not great, but not bad, either. It could have benefited from additional brandy. The crisp pommes frites were authentic and very good, indeed. Why can't all french fries be made from real potatoes? Again, the ample portion's scale was more American than it was French.
Flank steak au poivre with pommes frites
Though sated after the main course, I still faced the prospect of selecting a dessert from the large display case. With so many délices from which to choose, I picked the one that seemed to be exhorting me to consume it: the apricot amandine. My initial bite, however, revealed the real reason behind the tart's entreaties: fear of being the last to be chosen. Apparently, this dessert had been deserted awhile. I found myself doing battle with the crust—it was far too rigid. Age may have also played a role in helping the almond paste overpower the retreating flavor forces of the sliced apricots. I prefer my steaks aged, but not so my desserts. (Perhaps I should have ordered the Porcupine confection instead.)
Apricot amandine
Among my Dine-In Brooklyn meals so far, this one has represented the best value. Considering that the regular dinner menu lists steak au poivre at $21.95 and desserts at $6 apiece, the $23 fixed price for my three courses was a bargain. Overall, my dinner was quite satisfactory despite the disappointing apricot amandine. While the bistro fare at Saint Germain is unlikely to win awards for creativity, it is fairly reliable and tasty.
Saint Germain
8303 Third Avenue (near 83rd St), Bay Ridge, Brooklyn
(718) 745-8899
By train: to 86th Street By bus: B37
Please click on the image above for a larger view of the menu.
A few years ago, a good French bistro like Pomme de Terre would have seemed unthinkable in this part of Ditmas Park, Brooklyn. It still appears somewhat improbable today. For instance, the nearby Newkirk Avenue BMT station has no fewer than two transit cops present at any given time. And while undergoing its transformation from seedy grocery to upscale eatery, this space suffered numerous acts of vandalism. Despite the annoying setbacks, owners Gary Jonas and Allison McDowell (founders of The Farm on Adderley nearby), and Jim Mamary (one of the founders of Patois) persevered and, on 31 March 2008, began serving, in their words, "well-loved food." Since then, I'd always wanted to give this little bistro a try. The recent Dine-In Brooklyn week afforded me a fine opportunity.
Dining weeks allow restaurants to showcase certain dishes at a reduced price. Many restaurateurs use such occasions to put their best food forward. Unfortunately, that was not the case at Pomme de Terre. Their Dine-In Brooklyn menu seemed to target regular customers at the expense of newcomers. Instead of featuring signature dishes, they offered items not found on their regular menu. Perhaps with good reason. After all, this little restaurant appears to have established a constant clientèle. Nevertheless, I'd have preferred something a bit more representative—such as Steak Frites au Poivre—of their typical fare.
Although the bread is ordinaire, Pomme de Terre adds some nice French touches such as homemade butter to accompany it. My meal began with a garlic soup containing a poached egg and topped with a croûton. Perhaps I'm a bit too fond of garlic, but it seemed there just wasn't enough of it in the broth. While this starter was a tasty and pleasant departure from the ordinary, its lack of ail intensity did not yield a favorable comparison with garlic-based concoctions I've enjoyed in Europe.
Garlic Soup
For the main course, chef David Pitula offered two choices: Warm Country Pâté and Chicken Paillard. I opted for the latter, which was served in a goat cheese-basil vinaigrette, topped with grilled eggplant and squash, and accompanied by Yukon-Rosemary potatoes. It was good, possibly even very good. The overly acidic vinaigrette created a slight detraction, but was ameliorated somewhat by the sweetness of the grilled vegetables. Overall, the flavors melded well.
Chicken Paillard
Had the cellar been commensurate with the wine list, I'd have found it quite acceptable. I've come to expect a bistro's carte des vins to comprise few, but well-chosen—possibly esoteric—wines. Unfortunately, it took four tries to find a wine that was actually in stock. I finally settled on a glass of Vin de Savoie "Abymes," whose $9 price would have bought a bottle at a retail shop.
The dining room's décor is consistent with that of bistros one might find in Manhattan. To wit, it has a sort of French feel. Nevertheless, a Gallic bistro experience should transcend French-accented fare and décor. Alas, the service was decidedly un-French. My waiter made no efforts toward any sort of authentic pronunciation whatsoever. (My request for a glass of "van de sahvwah" was met with a "vin da Savoy." Oh well.) While competent and not unfriendly by any means, the glib service was not all that ingratiating. Perhaps I simply expect too much.
Lemongrass Panna Cotta
For dessert, I chose the Lemongrass Panna Cotta with mixed fruit. While the tropical infusion provided a tangy twist, the consistency of the panna cotta lacked the buoyancy I've come to expect. Again, at a purportedly French bistro, I'd have preferred the Gallic version of burnt cream: crème brûlée.
Whatever its minor shortcomings, Pomme de Terre is a welcome addition to a neighborhood that has been bereft of superior dining spots far too long.
Pomme de Terre
1301 Newkirk Avenue (NE corner Argyle Rd), Ditmas Park, Booklyn
For the time being, wistful diners who pass 255 Smith Street, Brooklyn will have to adapt to the patois of Little Italy to enjoy some of their Gallic favorites. In January, Patois, a 1997 pioneer of Smith Street's restaurant row, closed its doors with the promise of reopening across the street in the near future.
Last Wednesday, meanwhile, the Mulberry Street incarnation made its debut. Although the new digs are brighter and cleaner than the recently abandoned ones in Carroll Gardens, they somehow lack that je ne sais quoi. Nevertheless, "the food is the same," I'm reassured.
Incidentally, Patois' prix fixe menu ($9.95 from 11:30 A.M. till 4:00 P.M.; $19.95 after that) represents an extraordinary value.
The future of the Manhattan location is uncertain, however. Will the new Patois will continue to operate should indeed the newer one open at 254 Smith Street? Stay tuned. But in the meantime, bon appétit!
Patois
177 Mulberry Street (near Broome St), Little Italy, Manhattan
(212) 925-8157
By train: 6 to Spring Street; J,M,Z to Bowery By bus: M1, M103, B51
Although Almondine refers to them as pretzels, they look more like rolls or buns. Perhaps they ought to be named callipygian pretzels. Regardless of their sobriquet, however, one has to call them delicious.
The Pretzels with Cheese ($3.25 apiece) are topped with Gruyère along with sesame and poppy seeds, and even contain a bit of cheese in the center. Warm, soft, and tasty, they constitute the perfect nosh. Be warned, however, that one pretzel usually leads to another.
These delectable snacks were introduced here by Almondine's first head baker, Roger Gural, whose impressive credentials also include principal positions at Bouley Bakery, Amy's Bread, as well as Thomas Keller's Bouchon Bakery. He currently teaches at his alma mater, The French Culinary Institute, from which he earned Le Diplome de Boulanger in 1998.
Almondine
85 Water Street (near Main St), DUMBO, Brooklyn (map)
By train: to High Street; to York Street By bus: B25 to Main Street
Please click on the image above for a larger view of the menu.
Comestiblab: The word pretzel comes from the (rhyming) German word Brezel; originally from the Latin brachiatus, branched (like arms), from brachium, arm. According to legend, a monk created the knotted biscuit in the shape of arms folded in prayer.
Liberté, Égalité, and Fraternité will be celebrated slightly early in Gotham this year.
Manhattan
On Sunday, 13 July, from 12:00 Noon till 6:00 P.M., everyone is invited to celebrate Bastille Day on 60th Street, New York's "street fair with French flair." The three-block fête takes place between Fifth and Lexington Avenues. Enjoy Gallic delicacies at one of the many "picnic tables" provided.
By train: N,R,W to 5th Avenue or Lexington Avenue; 4,5,6 to 59th Street
Brooklyn
On Sunday, Smith Street becomes Rue Smith when it hosts Brooklyn's Bastille Day festivities. Both Bar Tabac and Provence en Boîte will hold all-day celebrations featuring French food and Pétanque tournaments.
The recent Dine In Brooklyn week afforded me the perfect occasion to try Le Petit Marché, a
relative newcomer to North Brooklyn Heights—an area where only the strong
survive. Nearly a year-and-a half old, this little Gallic bistro is the sort of place that allows me to boast that, for the money, Brooklyn offers better dining than does Manhattan.
Chef Mick Pirnick produces sumptuous dishes with flavors
that harmonize on the palate.
My starter of escargot broiled with garlic herb butter was garlicky, nicely seasoned
(though a little salty), fresh, and quintessentially French. Call me a
traditionalist, but this classic preparation, served with a slice of toast, is
preferable to more recent en croûte variations
I've had.
As a main course, I chose the seared wild striped bass with Provençal dressing and spring vegetables. The flavors of the fish and vegetables blended well. Again, the ingredients were very fresh and well seasoned, except for some slight over-salting. (Mind you, I'm not shy about salt—I typically add it to everything.)
Last, I was torn between the Tahitian vanilla crème brûlée and the warm strawberry rhubarb crisp à la mode—I chose the latter. (All right, I’m not always a traditionalist.) Unlike most desserts of this sort, this one was
not overly sweet and, equally important, served as a much-needed reminder of
spring's arrival.
Le Petit Marché is a pleasant addition to this end of Henry Street. The tastefully decorated dining room with its exposed brick walls and tin ceiling befits the neighborhood. The welcoming husband-and-wife team of Daniella Silone and Igor Tsan offer their essential personal touch; the service is professional and courteous. One can really sense that they strive to please. This one’s a keeper.
Le Petit Marché
46 Henry Street (bet. Cranberry & Middagh Sts), Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn
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