simon says french food blog

Honfleur: at SaQuaNa a great chef plies his trade

Honfleur,

By François Simon

It's enough to make you dizzy – choosing somewhere to eat in this region awash in restaurants and that all the guides have been over with a fine-toothed comb.  There are a lot of places to choose from.  Too many, in fact, and as is often the case, you just don't know where to settle in for a meal. 
It's as though you were in a market in the south of France where "the apples, pears and scoubidous"* all seem equally appetizing (as well as virtually indistinguishable).  You enter a creperie in the port of Honfleur, and the chef is in the dining room scarfing down a crude meal.  You realize immediately what sort of crepe you'll be getting – dry, slapdash, just plain bad. 
It's the same old mistake.  Better to go well-equipped with, for example, these two little places that are sure things.  If you're dissatisfied, the coffee's on me.  The first, SaQuaNa, is in Honfleur, place Hamelin (02 31 89 40 80).  It's among the new generation of restaurants here, straightforward, without embellishment and boldly inventive.  It's funny – one has the impression that nothing can stop the kitchen of Alexandre Bourdas (formerly of Michel Bras, in Japan).  On the incredible 40-euro menu you'll find the following savory line-up : kephir with coriander, pralines, mint, chickpeas and preserved lemon, followed by lightly braised filet of sea bream (with baby clams and almond-infused warm milk), free-range roast chicken (the juices thickened with shellfish broth), a selection of cheeses, an "autumn" cappuccino with chilled pumpkin, cocoa powder, and hazelnuts with whipped cream and grilled chestnuts.  
The restaurant of the year: it's exquisite. 
My other suggestion isn't in the same league.  To be delivered tomorrow morning in order to give you a little time to check out Sa.Qua.Na's website…

*Translator's note: "Des pommes, des poires et des scoubidous" is the title of a song by Sacha Distel that was a hit in France in 1958. Scoubidou is a plaiting and knotting craft popular among children.

 SaQuaNa : 22, Place Hamelin 14600 Honfleur, France Tel : 02 31 89 40 80

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SNAIL’S GRACE

Paris,

by Joe Ray 

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, 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 75019 Paris Tel +33 1 42 06 03 96  Map

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherlandand contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

Hotels in London

Ah, I almost forgot some hotels where you can settle down for the evening. 

Brown’s Hotel, the Ritz, Claridge’s, and the Connaught – but if you find the prices violent, my oh-so-British alternative is called the Durrants Hotel; from 125 £ (158 €) for a single room.

George Street, London W1H 5BJ. Tél. : 00.44.20.7935.8131. Web Map

Something for everyone in London

London

By François Simon

Just imagine if London’s veritable exoticism was reflected in the astonishing diversity of its cuisines….
First, some old standbys.  They’re simply irresistible for their old-fashioned bluster, and it’s worth crossing swords for a beef Wellington, oysters Rockefeller, some stilton accompanied by a glass of port, butter pudding, Dover sole. Try Rules, Simpson’s, Green’s, Wiltons….

There’s also the guilty pleasure of fish and chips. Distinguished fare of the rabble, splendidly proletarian-chic, fish and chips have the nasty tendency to make gastronomes recoil and shudder with horror.  But with a cold beer, you’re in for a treat.

Among the best places, Canteen, and for our readers, in Portobello, George.  You’re going to be blown away.  Also in terms of quality-price, Kiasu, for its Asian cuisine with Singaporean influences.

The Indians are still acclaimed in London.  Unlike in Paris where we mistreat foreign cuisine (we belittle it), here there are no half-measures.  London’s Indian restaurants are a real pleasure: Amaya remains my favorite for its enchanting dishes (excellent biryanis). 

Japanese, give that a try, too!  The self-confidence of the British enables them to succeed where many others hesitate.  They just plunge in head first.  An example is Roka, in the delightful quarter of Fitzrovia.  It’s impeccable, inspired by a welcome reinterpretation of Japanese cuisine: beautifully done scallops, and desserts that are sickeningly sumptuous.  And there’s always Wagamama with its noodles and soups, or Zuma, with a Sex and the City vibe.

Gastropub, passion put into practice.  Born in 1991 with the Eagle in Farrington, the gastropub movement has helped launch the careers of a generation of young chefs who wanted to make a name for themselves without drowning in debt.  Gastropub took its cues from « bistronomy » in France, and you’ll find the same sort of menu on the blackboard, same blithe spirit, but also the same flaw – the bill can quickly get out of control if you don’t take care. Try Charles Lamb for the quality of its beers, and Rosendale (2008 laureate of the useful Time Out guide, 12 £).

ON THE PROPER USAGE OF LONDON RESTAURANTS

London : CECCONI'S, unwholesome food

London,

By François Simon

A neighborhood favorite that's jammed with people shouting at one another over rather unwholesome food, like a « lobster salad » overloaded with potatoes for 18£ (23€). Arrogance accompanies even an expression of regret – "We're sooooo sorry!" – but it's all somehow appealing.

Tel : +44 (0)20 7434 1500 5-5a Burlington Gardens
London W1X 1LE Map Web

(photo F.Simon)

La Cupole

Paris,

by Joe Ray 

In nearly a decade living in Paris, I had never been to the Montparnasse brasserie La Cupole - 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 Cupole 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. span>

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 € 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 Cupole’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 Cupole’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 Cupole : 102, bd du Montparnasse 75014 Paris  +33 1 43 20 14 20 Map Web

 Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherlandand contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

London, The Windmill : "everything Ok, my love"...

London,

By François Simon

This is the hideout of the tailors and cutters from Savile Row.  Come here for the excellent steak and kidney pie, 8,95 £ (11 €), which regularly receives awards in competitions, a pint of beer, the threadbare carpet, and the waitress who asks, «Everything OK, my love ? »
6-8 Mill Street, London W1S 2AZ. Tél. : 00.44.20.7491.8050.

Web Map

London : so chic Scott's

London,

By François Simon

Chic, impeccable, and professional, where the seafood is the star of the show, shelled crabs, Dover Sole – it can miss the mark occasionally (a dessert with figs supposedly caramelized), but overall it’s very good.  Definitely noisy, it’s better to sit at the bar (also easier to get a reservation), where you can mutter derisive comments about the inimitable clientele.  Figure on 50£ (63 €).

20 Mount Street, Mayfair, London W1. Tél. : 00.44.20.7495.7309. Map Web

( Photo F.Simon )

 

SWITCHING FROM WORK TO PLAY

Paris,

By Joe Ray 

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 106, Rue de la Folie Méricourt 75011 Paris, France Tel +33 1 43 57 33 78 Map

DUCK QUACKERY

Paris,

By Joe Ray 

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 :  50 rue de la Villette Paris 19e Tel 33 1 42 06 03 96

Le Petit Fer à Cheval  : 28 Rue Vieille du Temple Paris 4e Tel : 33 9 62 09 23 38 

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

 

ON THE PROPER USAGE OF LONDON RESTAURANTS

London,

By François Simon

It’s always a pleasure to arrive at St. Pancras, but if you haven’t already made reservations, you’re going to struggle to find a table.  So here’s a little London survival kit designed for food lovers.
First, some friendly advice – avoid haute cuisine.  If you’re so inclined, you can always give it a go with Gordon Ramsey, Tom Aikens, or even Heston Blumenthal in Bray.  Not to be pretentious, but honestly, you’ll find just as good in Paris.  If not better.  Gordon Ramsey, for example, is like Guy Savoy in the 1980s.  Blumenthal (at the Fat Duck) steers between Sartre and Mary Poppins, as well as towards some confreres in France (Decoret in Vichy or Thierry Marx in Bordeaux).
Here are a few little places that I’m fond of.  “So British” – isn’t that what you’re after?

THE WOLSELEY

An incomparable shrine to tea, pub life, and cuisine, and a marvelous observatory for a view on London life. You can come for oysters before the theatre or a vernissage, and then come back afterwards for dinner.  The décor is 1920s art deco, with sepia lighting bathing a scene of London extravagance.  Terrific.  Cuisine interchangeable.
160 Piccadilly, Mayfair, London W1J 9EB. Tél. : 00.44.20.7499.6996.

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WILTONS

You find the noise level deafening in fashionable restaurants?  You’re not wrong.  The best prescription is this elegant address where the kindness and quality (impeccable fish) are irresistible.  All the same, figure on 50£ (63 €) per person…
55 Jermyn Street, London SWIY 6LX. Tél. : 00.44.20.7629.9955.
Web Map

à suivre...

Au Bascou : Go with your gut

Paris,

By Joe Ray 

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, 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 38, rue Réaumur, 75003 Paris +33 1 42 72 69 25 Map

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

 

KNUCKLES, ONIONS AND A MAN ALONE

Paris,

By Joe Ray

Put to the test on where to go in the neighborhood to fulfill a French onion soup quest, the team at La Cave à Jojo floundered.
“That’s tricky around here,” said Jojo, batting ideas around with clients at the bar, before smiling. “I’ve got it.”
We walked back into the night, skirting the base of Montmartre and bringing our bodies down to the right temperature for soupe à l’oignon.
On the way to our table, a man alone ate oysters from a raised platter, following each with brown bread and sweet butter, then luxuriously washing it down with some white wine; we were in the right place.
I’ve known this – the one-man reward in a bistro - and seeing the man made me think of doing the same several years ago, filing a story at some ungodly hour and heading to Au Général Lafayette for pig knuckle, choucroute and beer. Similarly, every year when I get a new carte de séjour, I straight from the prefecture to the Petit Fer à Cheval where I order steak tartare, silently toast my grandma and thank God I don’t have to renew the damn thing for another year.
Back at Wepler, the breeze blowing through an open door shook me from my reverie – Paris city air sweetened with the sea salt it picked up blowing across the oysters kept outside.
Inside, three men who have ordered two coffees look up as the waiter arrives.
Garcon smiled, placing the coffee on the table and slipping a chocolate to the guy who didn’t need any more caffeine.
In this temple of consumption, the thought of it all made the conversation better, made me hungrier.
We ordered soup, my friends agreed to split a chèvre chaud, but they stared at me funny when I ordered a pig knuckle.
I raised a silent toast to grandma and dug in. 
Brasserie Wepler 14, Place de Clichy 75018 Paris +33 1 42 93 70 84 Web Map

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

 

 

My favorite of the month : Glou

Paris,

By François Simon

Well, I certainly won’t be the only one singing the praises of this new restaurant opened by Julien Fouin (formerly of the magazine Régal).  And that’s as it should be.  Because this place is just plain good; charming, as it aspires to be. 
 
Yeu Island albacore tuna (“non-threatened and marinated”), baby sardines, lomo iberico bellota, a country terrine, pork belly confit, wild shrimp from Madagascar (photo) with pesto, wild lavender and sweet potato purée, a super fruity, 24 month-aged Comté.…and, of course, the usual profusion of “in” wines (Bizeul, Ostertag).  It was a wonderful evening. 
 
Closed Tuesdays.  101, rue Vieille du Temple, 75003 Paris (01.42.74.44.32)

Map

(photo F.Simon)

 

AM I MISSING SOMETHING?

Paris,

By Joe Ray

To me, this explains it all.

How is it that when the EU bans imports of hormone-treated beef from the US, the US triples the import tariff on French Roquefort …a cheese made with unpasteurized milk that comes from sheep that are fed a chemical-free diet?

Not to gloat, but it’s snack time and I’ve got some really good raw-milk Camembert in the fridge…

Link to story

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

 

Ze Kitchen Galerie, far from the stiffs

Paris,

By François Simon

What we find so wonderful about William Ledeuil's Kitchen Galerie is the blending of ideas.  I defend this place, while certain specialists turn up their noses.  Not enough of this, they say, too much of that.  Whatever.  The point is it's darned good, straightforward, plunging into different kinds of cuisine as one might clear branches from one's path in the forest.

It's hard to know if William Ledeuil has a particular aim in mind, since he doesn't speak.  He acts.  He prefers working in the shadows to the false glare of the spotlight, discretion to exhibition. He has no aspirations to preeminence.  His dedication to his clients mirrors that of his waitstaff, and he chooses wines that suit his fancy rather than playing to the Gallery, even if it is that of the Kitchen.  When you leave, you see more clearly.  In my top 10 of the moment.

Ze Kitchen Galerie. 4, rue des Grands-Augustins, 75006 Paris, tél. : 01 44 32 00 32; Count on 50 euros per person. Web  Map

Manna in the Sand

By Joe Ray

Under the stars in the Algerian Sahara, our guides make bread in the sand.

One kneads dough in a mixing bowl while another prepares the fire. When the cinders are ready, Salah moves them to the side, and creates a saucer-shaped crater in the sand into which goes the flat round of dough. The whole thing is covered with the cinders and left to cook.

Half an hour later, they again move the cinders and lo, the bread.

Curiously, the sand doesn’t really stick – there’s a thickness to the crust that doesn’t allow it to grab and any little bits disappear with a quick rinse of water.

We’re so far from the rest of the world that at night, there’s no light pollution. Warm bread under the stars.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

Le 21 : Hidden away but impeccable

Paris,

By François Simon

Certain Parisian restaurants seek obscurity, prefer that we don’t talk about them.  Often these places have excellent chefs.  They work and invent in a spirit of generosity.  21, with its fish specialities, is such a restaurant. 

You find on the daily chalkboard selections that are lucid, straightforward, and sometimes surprising, like the shrimp served with pasta.  And it turned out to be excellent !  A dish that’s just spot on, and truly copious.  What else do we want from our cuisine ?  Nothing. 

Just one catch - referreing to the bill as "the damage" is entirely apt at le 21.  It’s pricey.  But all the same, it’s good, even very good.  One of the best addresses in Saint Germain, and even all of Paris.

Le 21 : 21 rue Mazarine Paris VIe. Tel.: 01 46 33 76 90 Around 75 €.

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TEA IN THE SAHARA WITH ABDOU

By Joe Ray 

 

How to make tea in the Sahara.

Brewing tips and desert wisdom shared by Abdoudaim Zounga, Touareg nomad.

• The guy who does the tea does the tea. That’s it. He tends to the fire and the tea. Everyone sits in a circle around him.
• The tea is kept in a leather bag on his left.
• Put one teacup of tea per person in the pot, plus a little more.
• Use a little water to rinse off the leaves, fill the pot and set it on the embers. No sugar yet! It’ll caramelize!
• Once it bubbles over twice, take it off the heat.
• Pour the foam (not the liquid) into the teacups. The foam is good - imagine you’re under a tree and a wind comes up – the sand stays on the foam!
• Tea without foam is like a Touareg without a cheche (headscarf).
• Pour the tea into an empty pot and from there, into a larger glass with lots of sugar, going back and forth between the two to completely mix the sugar into the tea.
• Pour the tea into teacups from a great height.
• The best things are done by masters.
• Refill the original pot (the one with the leaves) with water and put on the embers. Repeat for two more rounds of tea.
• Everybody runs around all the time. Mom here, dad there, but when you drink tea, you stop. You’re together.

Bonus: Abdou’s Camel Wisdom Never have more than one male in a group. Otherwise, it’s a battle to the death. When you make camel jerky, sometimes it’s so good, you bite your fingers.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

Mirazur, the best of the French Riviera

Menton,

By François Simon

By Here there’s a chef, a real one - Mauro Colagreco, an Italian born in Argentina, who’s worked with many of the big names (Loiseau, Ducasse, Martin and especially Passard).  He turns out a cuisine of remarkable vivacity inspired by the Riviera, the ingredients bursting with flavor. 

His cuisine is astonishingly limpid, clever, and marked by a certain earthiness.  Colagreco is making his mark as a reference for the new generation.   With his garden, his citrus plants, and the flowers that he uses for more than decoration, he leads you into unknown territory where, strangely, you find the shadows of your memories.  Modernity with roots in the soil. 

Mirazur : 30, Avenue Aristide Briand - 06500 Menton - +33 (0) 4.92.41.86.86 - [email protected]. Tasting menu from 55 euros. Map  Web

Photo by Pim of chezpim.com