With so many great restaurants closed on Sunday, we planned to have lunch at Le Comptoir which is thankfully open. The restaurant doesn't take reservations on Sunday, unlike every other day of the week. So just show up and you should be able to get a table in a reasonable amount of time. We arrived around 2pm, and the restaurant and l'Avant were both full, although there was no queue to get a table. So we put our name in with the hostess and waited outside for not more than 10 minutes. We were shuffled in to the tight dining room, and seated at a table between a wall and another two top. Our waitress spoke a little english, but for the most part we were able to get by with our mediocre French.
We ordered a plate of oeuf mayonnaise right off the bat just because. Two eggs, sliced in half, covered in luscious mayonnaise and some shards of crisp bacon... simple, tasty and satisfying. I was mildly concerned to notice a thin layer of green around the yolks, and I thought that perhaps the small step of shocking the eggs in an ice bath after cooking shouldn't have been overlooked by such a renowned kitchen. Quietly I hoped that this would not be indicative of other details overlooked as our meal progressed.
For an entree I ordered octopus and tomato confit salad- filled with tender octopus, baby romaine, and tomato and garlic both done two ways. The tomatoes were presented confit and raw, the garlic pickled and fried in chips. The combinations of textures and flavors complemented and enhanced one another, depending on how each bite was composed. Again, simple and satisfying.
My friend ordered the beet soup and quite enjoyed it... I had a sample, and it was rather rustic, the diced beats still had some bite to them which was unexpected but nice.
Prior to ordering, I quickly scanned the extensive menu, and though there were many items that caught my eye, I made up my mind as soon as I saw "Cochon au lait braisé et rôti," (suckling pig, braised and roasted,) sounded fantastic and perfect after a few hours of riding bicycles around the city. I tried to imagine how this would be prepared, and I was not disappointed when it arrived: A thick cylinder of meat deeply caramelized on the top and bottom, resting on a dense bed of puy lentils. The pig had been slowly braised, then the meat from all over pulled and rolled into a long cylinder and wrapped in lardon. A two inch thick section was sliced off, quickly roasted and served, garnished with a clove of pickled garlic and a little blue potato chip.
The pork itself was heavenly, with a melange of textures- succulent meat throughout, but at times crispy and with bits of fat and offal scattered here and there. It was like eating a whole pig in one compact, delectable disc... the lardon even served as a subtle, crispy "skin." Fairly simply prepared and presented, the pig was the star through and through, and in this dish proved once again that it is indeed the most delicious animal.
My friend ordered the poularde rôti, which is a spin on the classic French dish poule au pot (Chicken in a pot). It was composed similarly to the cochon de lait, a thick round portion of roasted chicken, set atop some starch, (rice? potato? I don't recall) bathing in a creamy foam. I had a bite, and it was quite tasty and tender, but I was consumed with my pork and didn't take much note beyond that. My friend thoroughly enjoyed his meal however.
In the meantime, we struck up a conversation with the Polish couple seated next to us, who come to Paris several times a year, mostly for the purpose of eating. In their opinion, Le Comptoir is and has been "one of the best for the past few years." The gentleman had rack of lamb which looked and smelled mouthwatering, and he confirmed as much.
For desert, I had an order of rhum baba, my friend made do with a sampling of sorbet. I'm not sure why I ordered this particular dessert, as there were other more inventive and intriguing choices on the menu. Perhaps I unconsciously wanted to continue the trend of simplicity and comfort. My baba was very good, but in all honesty was so greatly eclipsed by the magical cochon, I have a hard time remembering much of it. Cake was moist on the inside, with a nice golden crust, perfect to sop up the rum without getting soggy.
After finishing our meal, and conversing with our new Polish friends, (about food, and not about food) my companion and I decided that Le Comptoir was our best overall meal in France. My concern about minor missteps and unfinished details were unfounded. The capabilities of the tiny kitchen are reinforced by the fact that two cooks man it, almost on top of each other, furiously, magically producing a broad variety of expertly cooked dishes. Impressive.
The simplicity, the amalgamation of flavor and texture, the hearty satisfaction of eating honest food; it all came together.
And we missed out on the charcuterie!
Next time. read more