Our friend Judi suggested we hook up with some friends of hers while we are here, and though hesitant for some reason to do so, thinking we wouldnt want to be a burden, we were very glad we did.
Last night, we met up with them at a bar, Stollys Pub, owned by their friend Oliver. Hes English and shes American, qnd theyve both been in France for years. After chatting with them and their friends over a few cocktqils (a gin and tonic, a cuba libre, and a Heinekin) we headed down the street to a tiny restaurant that Michael promised to be an authentic, French country restaurant short on frills and big on food.
It would not disappoint: This was the eating experience Id hoped to have here.
Robert et Louise is a tiny room hidden away in the Marais arrondissement, a narrow space with a handful of tables packed tightly together. When we arrived slightly late for our reservation, the owner or manager told Michael that yes, he did see that we had a reservation, and yes, we would be waiting. So we got an aperitif, a kier I think he called it, and waited only a short while. We squeezed into a tqble by the door qnd put the ordering into Ms hands.
To start, we were brought crusty bread, of course; a bottle of red wine ("cheap as chips but very nice to drink," said M); and the appetizers (here, entrees). These were outstanding, all of them. First came a trio of gambas, large shrimps served whole after simmering in some sort of broth. Im not a big fan; but these were outstanding. Next came a pork pate of some kind, coarse shredded meat served cold in a small pot, marinated in something very mild, creamy and delicious beyond expectation. Then: blood sausage. 2 of them. Black colored things bulging oily from the casings, ominous looking but tasty as could possibly be. Cathy dug in and enjoyed them nearly as much as I did. They were fine grained, not too salty, and had a texture unlike any sausage Ive had. Outstanding, especially dabbed into a small pile of mustard scooped from a clay pot on the table with a tiny wooden spoon.
And, more wine, always more wine.
Our main courses came, and man did we eat. Before we came down, M made sure we ate red meat. Hah! The first dish was a steak for two, carved right off a side of beef hanging in the rear of the room. Cooked to med rare perfection, this thing was perfectly crisp on the outside and perfectly red on the inside. I cant recall eating a better straight-up steak. It was brought to us sliced on a large cutting board, and we transferrred it to smaller cutting boards to eat from.
Next came duck confit, tender and juicy to running like duck really should be. Fantastic, served with sauteed potatoes that were ordinary in the best way. This more than made up for the duck we tried to get the previous night--I know they gave me steak, insisted on it, and if anything this duck proved me right.
Lastly, lamb. A great little (well, not so little) fillet seared just right and served up tender as possible on another cutting board. This food was so simple and so good that it belied all Ive heard and read about the overdoing of sauce and other things in French cooking.
We talked and talked about everything from politics (ugh) to cycling to football to travel to our own life stories, some of which were far more interesting than others. Two words: Uncle Ringo. Well leave it at that for now.
Lastly, with no room whatsoever for dessert, M ordered a few digestifs to end things. These are mighty little drinks purported to help you digest your meal. With the alcohol content involved, Ive no doubt the breaking down of food was sped up. One was pear flavored (Cathy thought the pear floating in the bottle was a baby chicken--it wasnt, but she declined to join us anyway). One was some berry-based concoction, and one was dark and more like brandy. All were firewater, hot on the tongue and in the throat, but subsiding quickly from fire to pleasant glow.
We rolled ourselves out of thereabout 1am, after a fairly lenghty discourse with the proprietor about various types of cigarettes and the settling of the USA, assisted and translated by Michael. An incredibly pleasant and memorable experience.
Today theres a World Cup qualifying match that we may meet them for, but Cathy woke up with a fever this morning, so well have to wait and see.
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