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David Lebovitz Archives: Wine-ing March 4, 2007 |
Comments (6)
 Taillevant & Le Cave Taillevant Last month I had a fabulous lunch at Taillevent, the recently-demoted three-star restaurant, courtesy of some good friends from the states. But if our lunch was any indication, I don't know who's plucking the stars. And at 70€ it's the deal of the decade: Three courses and lots of little extras. Plus they were very pleased to substitute any of the desserts which didn't appear on the fixed menu for the selection offered. And to make the lunch even more special, another recent guest kindly bought me a bottle of lovely champagne...what's not to get all starry-eyed over? But whether or not you can make it to Taillevent, the restaurant, you should definitely visit their wine shop in the main Printemps department store. Run by Alison Vollenwider, with the help of Stéphanie (aka la petite), this wine cave is one of the most interesting in Paris. Alison trained as a sommelier at Windows On The World with famed wine expert Andrea Immer, then worked in Bordeaux as a sommelier before settling here in Paris. Stop by and say hi—you'll find plenty of reasonably-priced wines, starting at less than 10€, and lots of good advice from Alison. She's friendly and knowledgeable...what more could you want from a caviste? What's that? You do want more?
    Silly Illy Ever since I got my new espresso machine, I've been trying to learn as much about the complex art of making espresso as possible. Continue reading "Ce weekend à Paris" »
Le Beaujolais Nouveau Is Here! November 16, 2006 |
Comments (5)
A lot of people will be celebrating tonight the release of Beaujolais Nouveau...
Myself included.
Aux Caves D'Aligre
Les Papilles Restaurant & Wine Bar October 7, 2006 |
Comments (4)
Although not Michelin-starred, one of my favorite restaurants in Paris is Les Papilles. I have to admit that I rarely go there, since it's equally far from any métro station, and I don't make it over to that part of town very often. But when a friend called me about having a leisurely saturday lunch, I jumped at the oppoprtunity to revisit the restaurant. A few people commented when I first wrote about Les Papilles a few months back, and I mentioned the "Small portions". Well, I guess I had been there on a day when they handed out menus (it was a weekday), when I had ordered a tartine, an open-faced sandwich that I recall as being not-too-filling for my American-sized appetite.
We started with a velouté of carrots, served with coriander seeds, a creamy quenelle sweetened with honey, and crisp hunks of smoked bacon, which came alongside in an oversized white soup plate. Aside from the slightly-annoying bits of coriander and cumin dust on the side of the plate (why do places that serve nice wine use cumin with such recklessness?) the soup was lovely, and we were able to ladle out ourselves from the tureen the waiter left on our table. Our main course was a poitrine of pork, a centimeter-thick slab of braised then sautéed pork belly served in a copper casserole in a rich broth with young potatoes, mushrooms, black olives, and dried tomatoes. Off to the side was a brilliant-green dish of pistou, which had the intended effect of lightening up the whole dish, a wise counterpoint to the hearty pork and potatoes. Afterwards, a small, blue-veined wedge of artisanal Fourme d'Ambert cheese from the Auvergne was brought to the table with a poached prune and a swirl of red wine reduction on the plate, followed by dessert; a glass of panna cotta with Reine Claude plum puree on top, that we both licked clean. Completely sated, we left Les Papilles completely happy, with the rest of our Sancerre in tow, which the waiter gladly re-corked for us before sending us on our way.
January 26, 2006 |
Comments (7)
It's perhaps not much of a secret anymore that some of the best places to eat in Paris are the wine bars. Unlike some of the 'wine bars' in the US (where that glass of icky-oaky California Chardonnay will run you $14...not including tax and tip), Paris' wine bars are gathering places, where people might stop in the morning after the market for a friendly chat with the counterperson or in the afternoon for quick glass of red to get you through the rest of your day...not that I ever do that... After work, the wines bars in Paris hum as people leave their jobs, and you'll see businessmen in dapper suits (and the aformentioned cartoon-emblazoned socks) as well as salesclerks from the local shops propped up against le bar zinc, cigarette in hand, sipping a glass of red wine while thinking whatever it is they're thinking as they focus their gazes somewhere off into space.
I like to go at lunchtime, especially in the cold winter months, where the friendly owners will squeeze you into a seat at one of the tiny tables covered with crisp white paper, a folded napkin, some utilitarian silverware, and an overturned wine glass, ready to be filled. After lunch of later in the afternoon, Parisians gather outside by the wine barrels covered with red-checkered cloth, drinking, smoking, and talking on their mobile phones, while absentmindedly polishing off a couple of glasses of Brouilly or Beaujolais. Most of the wine bars in Paris that serve food keep it authentic and simple: peek into the kitchen at any of them and you'll find most are the size of a phone booth. It's all charming and convivial, reminding me of the old diners that have mostly disappeared in America (except the bottomless cup of bad coffee's been replaced by red wine...and people still ask me why I live in France!) Of course, though, the wine is important here. But not so important that it draws wine snobs. Thankfully all he pretention from the neighborhood is left outside the door. I like to come in the afternoon when the place is empty. I sit with friends, or by myself, sipping a glass of fruity Chinon accompanied by a plate of their outstanding charcuterie, served on dark-crusted slices of pain Poilâne, from the nearby bakery of Max Poilâne. Country hams, fat-rich rillettes, and slices of dry sausage are always a treat, and a welcome accompaniment to the wine. Usually it's straight home for une sieste, another jour perdu...
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