This was my maiden voyage for my Grand Bon Voyage. Every meal had been carefully researched, analyzed and sourced. The thousands of cafe's bistros, brasseries, and restaurants culled and winnowed down to a select few. Well, it took 606 tries to find cure for Syphilis. There were a few misteps.
L'ami Jean is a small slice of a place carved out of a side street. They make up for the diminutive size by jamming twice as many tables in so close together your elbow could easily knock the glass of Brouilly out of someone's hand two tables away. Conversations bleed together as if you were dining in the cafeteria at the U.N.
The "English" Menu is actually your animated server who translates the whole thing as quick as crystal. It was like a 33 played at 45 for those of you who remember records.
Merci(fully), there is no rock loop of Johnny Halliday's greatest to compete with the din at dinner. (A concept that should be exported to the States).
The decor is early Bistro. Hey, why not? It's a Bistro. Lot's of kitschy tchotchkes, tiled floor, wooden tables from a by gone era, and a very French zinc serving station. The kitchen is wide open, which can be a good thing depending on what's going on in there. The Chef, (King Jego) barked at staff and clapped for servers like a Flamenco dancer, threw shredded parsley here and there like confetti at Lindbergh's parade, expedited and plated while the Sous Chef cooked and assembled. Therein may lie the rub for this place. Hold tight, we'll get there.
The Staff: Energetic as electrons on Speed. Helpful as they can be in the nanos they devote to you. They have to be in constant motion as the place jams up early, and everything must in the right place to avoid chaos
and confusion. Coats on a specific hanger, bread down as settled your butt in a chair, menus dealt, it was like dining on a German train.
Does it look like you read the menu? It's whisked away. Be quick.
The Vibe: Festive and vibrant. Who goes there? Locals and yocals (me), who read Eater Paris, and compared it to what Patricia Wells likes.
The Food: Ah, my first Parisian meal awaits, and waits, and waits and waits, like Ilse and Victor in Casablanca. Okay, no waiting for a bread basket with Olive Oil. Rest your paw in it to avoid having it removed on a server fly by.
A fine Fine du Porcelet en Persille, with Anchovies appeared. Basically, it was Head Cheese. It was a delightful slab of Head Cheese anointed with Parsley Oil and Pistachios. A perfect partner to the rapidly disappearing bread in the basket.
Next came a Jardiniere d'Eric Roy au Boullion de Sarasin. Braised root vegetables in Consume. (Stew lite). If you're possessed/obsessed with eating your vegetables with every meal, or your cholesterol is too high from all the Sweetbreads, you will be satisfied with this dish.
The Longe du Cochon fermier Famille Meignon was a prehistoric chop of Pork Loin. A house specialty, it alternated between dry and tough as a career Foreign Legionnaire. Alas, I finally got sore from chewing it like a Eskimo Grandma making Mukluks for the kids. It was nicely sauced, however that didn't help the meat. It's like wearing a fur coat over thrift shop work pants.
Finally, off the menu I asked for the Wood Pigeon because it was in season and the server suggested it over the signature Veal Chop that had been winking at me.
One of the best dished anywhere was Marc Meneau's Wood Pgeon at L'Esperance in Vezelay. The Pigeonhere couldn't keep up with the flock. Exhausted it fell out of the sky and into Chef Jego's saute pan. This critter was the runt of the litter. About the size of an Ortolan. It was tough and as chewy as a hat band. It fought with my steak knife and won. This thing bordered on inedible. The steamed Celeraic Steak underneath the former feathered friend was the best part. Bye Bye, Birdie, I say.
By the time Dessert rolled around, I had had enough. In a well regarded place run by a respected Chef with a small menu I expected perfection, or at least passable.
So, I passed on the heavily touted Rice Pudding. I'll have plenty of that when they put in the Home anyway. On to something better. read more