L’Auvergne Gourmande, one of the newest and finest little places to open in Paris in awhile

PARIS – One huge polished wood table for 12, a cozy round table that will just seat five, and a few tables tumbling out onto the sidewalk. That is all you get at L’Auvergne Gourmande, one of the newest and finest little places to open in Paris in awhile. But the little bit turns out to be a lot. No surprise here, for this is the annex of the generally reliable Left Bank restaurant La Fontaine de Mars. In their newest, pocket-sized endeavor the Boudon family has invested all its knowledge of gastronomically abundant Auvergne region of France, rich culinary history, impeccable farm products, nad some pretty decent wines and cheeses. And, best of all, they have brought back the daily plat du jour, almost a dinosaur in today’s Parisian cuisine. So Monday it is duck a l’orange, Tuesday lamb chops, Wednesday beef tongue, Thursday stuffed chicken, Friday salt cod with the garlic mayonnaise known as aioli, and Saturday suckling pig. How’s that for hardy?


But this little table d’hotes -- where everyone sits together on bistro-style stools and makes quick friends of total strangers -- has a fine modern take as well. Their grande salade de legumes is just that, a giant mound of greens with every kind of fresh vegetable imaginable, nicely cooked, nicely dressed, and topped with a crunchy tuile, or cookie, made of the sturdy Auvergnat cow’s milk cheese, Cantal. Other starters might range from their homemade foie gras and a green salad or a fresh pea soup with little chips of smoky bacon.


This is the sort of place where you can eat a lot or a little, depending upon your appetite. If it is just an Auvergnat cheese platter and a sip of fruity Saint Pourcain from the Gamay grape that your are after, it’s yours. Or, go the whole shebang with a thick and meaty cote de boeuf from this rich cattle country, teamed up with a rich potato purée. I myself feasted on and wonderful breast of guinea hen, or pintade, with a deliciously puckery vinegar sauce served with a counterpoint of sweet sautéed apples.


Hope that patron Jacques is in charge on the day of your visit: His animation is charming and infectious. The wine selection, by the glass and the bottle, is vast, inspiring, and educational. You will find mostly little-know wines from the Auvergne (St. Pourcain is the best known), and small appellations from the Cotes Roannaise, Gailllac, vine de plays de l’Ardeche, and a Coteaux du Tricastan. In short, Paris needs more places like this: energetic, inventive and fun, with some good food to boot.


L’Auvergne Gourmande (L’Annexe de la Fontaine, Maison Boudon)
127 Rue Saint Dominique
Paris 75007
Tel: 01 47 05 60 79
No credit cards. Closed Sunday. About 110 francs per person, including service but not wine.

Finally, a truly decent place to eat at the main Paris flea market in Clignacourt!

PARIS – Finally, a truly decent place to eat at the main Paris flea market in Clignacourt! Those of us who have had enough of the mussels and soggy fries as

Chez Louisette (yes, Emmanuelle still sings her heart out there) are in for a real treat. In fact, Le Soleil is so good that it is worth a detour, even if you are not in the mood for poking through the market.

Outgoing owner Louis-Jacques Vannucci looks the part. He has just ruddiness and physique to guarantee he is a true gourmand and bon vivant. And he LOVES food and wine. After spending years tracking down great ingredients for French chefs, he finally decided to have a go at his own place. And now, this former café turned into a real familiar family restaurant is the place to show off his talents as a hunter of all things good and gastronomic.

AS one would expect of a place devoted to chineurs (bargain hunters) gourmand, the restaurant has that chic flea market look: Cozy oriental rugs on the floors, sunny golden linens, and clever wine bottle and wine glass logo that is carried out in fanciful wire sculptures framed in flea market finds.

The current menu includes some fine fare, such as a deliciously fresh mesclun salad of mixed greens paired with a generous portion of pan fried langoustines, so sweet they tasted like candy. I loved, too, the generous portions of sautéed chicken, served with a light cream sauce, tomatoes and a touch of brilliant green broccoli. Bean lovers will adore the green bean salad, tossed with cubes of tomato and tons of flat leaf parsley. Vannucci is a fish lover, and the special orders of turbot (served with a fresh ratatouille) and sardines are guaranteed to be sparkling fresh.

On my most recent visit, the owner had just returned from the fish auctions in Normandy, returning with cod so fresh it still had the aroma of the sea, as well as delicate, tiny mussels, almost like jewels. The mussels were cooked in a rich sauce poulette, a mix of reduced fish stock, butter, lemon juice and parsley. The alabaster cod flaked into meaty portions and sent everyone at the table swooning for more.

The wine list here is a but quirky, but there is always something to discover. Or in one case, rediscover. I don’t think I have sampled the white Bordeaux from the chateaux Doisy-Daene is 15 years. The crisp, oaky dry white from the Sauvignon Blanc grape was a pleasure paired with Vannucci’s carefully conceived menus.

A quirky white aperitif wine, a crisp Saint Pourcain, 1998 Domaine Bellevue, is sure to whet your appetite and make you crave a bit more of everything.

But it does not stop there. On weekends you might find live jazz music, and on certain days, as the mood strikes, Vannucci might just go off on a tangent and offer something as wacky and wonderful as an all tomato menu. I think I might just change my ways. And instead of saving those centimes for the flea market, put the change into more visits to Le Soleil.


Le Soleil
109 Avenue Michelet
93400 Saint Ouen
tel: 01 40 10 08 08.
Credit card : Visa. Open daily at lunch, and Thursday through Saturday for dinner. About 250 francs per person, including service but not wine.

Florence: Flair, Enthusiasm and Effervescent

FLORENCE --- It has been more than 16 years since I first set food inside Cibreo, one of Florence’s best and most consistent restaurants, and one that is filled with the flair and enthusiasm of outgoing owner Fabio Picci.

On that first visit Fabio served up some of his now classic fare --- his signature yellow pepper soup emblazoned with a C-shaped drizzle of local extra virgin olive oil; the memorable tomato aspic, brilliant red and shot full of his signature red pepper flakes; and a truly memorable platter of fresh pecornio sheep's milk cheese, shelled walnuts and an avalanche of garlic, Fabio’s own take on the traditional Tuscan starter.

Since that first visit, I never go to Florence without checking in with the effervescent Fabio. This time around, I had barely crossed through the front door and the chef was dragging me into the kitchen to take a look at the gorgeous, glistening fresh tuna a friend had just sent from the island of Elba. But we would have to wait a bit for that, since Fabio – on this evening cheerfully decked out in a crisp white chef’s jacket, a bright red apron and cool yellow clogs --- had a lot in store for us during that single meal.

Fabio’s once-modest trattoria has now grown into a full-fledged restaurant, albeit one with a fine, casual flair. Diners searching out an even more casual world can still check into his small trattoria on the other side of the wall, or the elegant Cibreo café just across the street.

Call it a parade, call it a procession, the food can keep on coming here, all full of intense flavors, refined fare with a distinct personality. Italian, yes. Tuscan, yes, sort of. Pure Fabio Picci at the top of his form, yes. For he takes native flavors and ingredients and punctuates them with his own style, always making sure that flavors knock you out. A tender squid salad blaring with the spice of his favorite red pepper flakes; an ethereal, feather-light salt cod purée, or baccala; lots of cloud-like substances, like the brilliant red tomato aspic; lots of dense, compact flavors that still manage to shock you with their overall lightness, like the cubed pecorino tossed with fresh fava beans and oil. The tuna finally made its appearance as the thinnest of carpaccio, smothered with a ton of herbs and a wealth of minced raw garlic.

And the memories keep coming, from the delicate tastes of his bright red spicy fish soup and on to his brilliantly prepared red snapper, oven roasted with a bright mix of lemon zest, rosemary, garlic, sage, parsley, red pepper, fennel seed, black pepper and olive oil, then marinated a full day in olive oil. Brilliant, you say? Also delicate and delicious.

“I am a happy man,” declares Fabio. Yes, he knows what he is doing and should well be proud.

My other must-visit restaurant in the area is welcoming family restaurant Da Delfina, a 15-minute train ride from the center of Florence, outside the walled medieval village of Artimino. Like the fare at Cibreo, Da Delfina’s food is earthy, and based on the freshest of local ingredients. Delfina herself, now 92, can be seen sitting shelling fava beans or returning from the fields having gathered nettles, mushrooms, or wild herbs for the next meal.

The remaining duties are cheerfully and passionately carried out by her son, Carlo Cioni, seconded by his wife, Franca and their son, Marco. In good weather be sure to reserve a table on the terrace at lunch time, when you will be able to enjoy an exquisite view of the verdant Tuscan countryside. Da Delfina is known for its game, wild mushrooms, extraordinary local sausages, delicate homemade pastas and assorted meats and fish grilled over the giant wood fireplace in the spacious kitchen.

Starters might include the most delicate—I dare you to try to stop eating them --

slices of fresh as well as aged fennel salami. The fresh version is sweet, infused with the essence of fennel, and supremely moist. The dried version, aged up to a year in the restaurant’s own cellars, is all grown up, dryer, with flavors that are intense, meaty, and sophisticated as a salami can be.

If you are looking for fine Italian essence of purity and simplicity, go for the truly fresh and lactic slices of pecorino sheep’s milk cheese – young and mild but far from wimpy – paired with the freshest and tiniest of raw fava beans. No seasoning needed here, for the ingredients speak for themselves.

Depending on what was found in the woods that day, homemade pasta smooth as silk just might be paired with delicate wild mushrooms that have been sautéed just seconds in olive oil and tossed with the tender strands of pasta. Nettles, or ortica, could find their way into a rich and rustic pasticcio, or complex pie made of pasta and herbs bound with a delicate béchamel sauce.

But I guess my favorite dish of the day was simply cubes of the most moist and delicious pork, infused with fresh fennel and roasted on the wood-fired spit. As ever, Carlo Cioni and family were true to their roots. While Carlo travels a great deal to see what is going on in the food world, he does not let it influence his own authentic cuisine: It is as if he says “This is who I am. This is what I do.” And he does it very well, indeed. Some people call Da Delfina the true endangered species of Florence, a city known more for its tourist trap eateries than restaurants of sincerity and quality.

Two wines definitely worth trying here include the fine Tuscan Carmignano from the house of Ambra, vintage 1998, a blend of Chianti grapes with a touch of Cabernet, making for a truly distinctive red; as well as the finely tannic 1997 Chianti Classico from the Castello di Fonterutoli.


Cibreo
Via Andrea del Verrocchio 8r
50122 Florence
Tel: 055 234 11 00
All major credit cards. Closed Sunday evening, Monday, and August. 75,000 to 100,000 lira per person, including service but not wine.

Around Florence

Al Moro Since 1929 Cell Phones Are Tucked Away, and it’s Time to Eat!

ROME -- Anyone looking for a most traditional Roman trattoria need look no more. Al Moro, here since 1929, is the sort of crowded, bustling spots filled with happy and well-fed businessmen and a scowling owner whose barks always worse than the bite.

Go to Al Moro – in a hard to find spot just behind the Trevi Fountain (just keep asking directions) – at precisely 10 minutes to 1 in the afternoon and you will see those businessmen all lined up outside the door. They are carbon copies of one another, all in dark sports coats, white shirts and ties, all talking on their cell phones with animation. At precisely 1 pm the doors open, the cell phones are tucked away, and it’s time to eat!

As you enter, you will come face to face with the owner, Franco, son of Moro and he might try to throw you out. He tries to throw everyone out, but persevere and try to break through that military sternness. The décor here is dark, with every inch of walls covered with artwork of varying value and appeal, including giant-sized photographs of a scowling Moro looking down at you as you dine. (It is said that the departed owner appeared in a Fellini movie and that would be very easy to believe). The scattering of pink roses and the crisp white linens soften that harshness, as do the kind and gentle waiters who only want to see that smile on your face as they serve you.

Specialties here are what we come to Rome for: baby goat (capretto) roasted to a dark golden crisp with tons of rosemary, and served with crispy pan-fried potatoes. Or, Roman-style milk fed lamb (abbacchio) stewed with tomatoes and cooked to a melting tenderness.

Starters must include the rightly famed carciofi alla romana, or Roman-style artichokes that are deep-fried to a crisp. One of those dishes that is close to impossible to do at home, so when you find it on a menu, go for it. Here the artichokes --- crisp on the outside and soft and fragrantly tender on the inside – are served in portions of two huge pieces, so share or go slowly, to save room for more.

And more there is! Al Moro is famous for their spaghetti alla Moro, their version of the popular spaghetti carbonara, though here sauced with the traditional egg yolks and pancetta but neither black pepper nor cream, making for a much lighter, less dense dish. Equally satisfying is their bucatini all’ amatriciana, with those fat strands of pasta smoothly coated with a sauce made up of onion, pancetta, tomato and piquant Pecorino Romano cheese. Overall, the food here tends to be salty, even for salt-loving palates as mine, so go forewarned.

The wine list offers some real Italian treats. Try a beautifully balanced white from the Friuli -- with proper proportions of acid and that intense flintiness that comes from the rocky soils – such as Mario Schiopetto’s 1999 Blanc des Rosis. With your meats, go for Sergio Manetti’s 1998 Le Pergole Torte, the 100% Sangiovese that remains one of Tuscany’s finest new style wines.

As you leave take a soft glance at the carefully dressed quartet of men smoking and silently playing cards. They have been there every day for 40 years: Half an hour for lunch, 2 ½ hours for the daily card game at their home away from home.


Al Moro
Vicolo delle Bollette 13
Rome 00185
Credit cards: Visa and MasterCard. About 75,000 lira per person, including service but not wine

Italian Back on New Yorker's Minds

NEW YORK CITY --- It seems as though 100 new restaurants open each week in Manhattan, and for the past few years, few of them have been Italian. It was as if New Yorkers had done Italian and were moving on to explore other cuisines, along with their own. But on a recent visit, Italy seemed to be back on everyone’s minds.

The newest Italian to open is Beppe, a smooth and colorful trattoria-style restaurant in the city’s Flatiron district. With warming ochre-toned walls and a roaring fireplace, it is easy to be at home in this new creation of chef Cesare Casella, from the city’s popular restaurant Coco Pazzo.

The best sign of any restaurant is when you sit down to peruse the menu and decide in a flash not only what you’d like on this visit, but also make mental notes of what to sample on the next. I felt this way at Beppe, settling into a lovely mix of marinated mushrooms set on a bed of golden polenta crostino, and teamed up with a peppery arugula salad. Less inspired was the thyme-marinated squid, which lacked essential seasoning, was dry, and simply repetitive.

I loved the idea of his 11-herb pastas with 11-herb pesto, topped off with a colorful mound of chopped, fresh tomatoes. Unfortunately, that old devil herb, sage, was a bit too dominant and overwhelmed the character of its ten other partners.

But the star of the evening without doubt was the spare ribs, Tuscan cowboy style, slow cooked with tomatoes and garlic. The ribs were nice and meaty and made you sit up and take notice.

The wine list is fine, with an old time favorite white, a Vernaccia di San Gimignano as aperitif, and the bold and virile Montepulciano d’Abruzzo Vino Nobile from the house of Carpineto.


Beppe
45 East 22nd Street
New York, N.Y. 10010
Tel: 212 982 8422
All major credit cards. Open daily. About $50 per person, not including service or wine.

Touch of the South

Paris – They are known, quite simply, as the Pourcel twins, the 36-year-old Jacques and Laurent, part of the youngest generation of Michelin three star chefs. After learning their craft at the hand of the best – Alain Chapel and Pierre Gagnaire to name just two --- they opened their own restaurant, Le Jardin des Sens in Montpellier in 1988. Within a decade the Pourcel brothers, along with their partner Olivier Chateau, had their coveted third star.

Now, for those who spend more time in Paris than in Montpellier, we have the pleasure of sampling their distinctively modern cuisine at the newly remodeled Maison Blanche, the large mezzanine-like affair set atop the Theatre de Champs-Elysées on the Avenue de Montaigne. There, amidst a blaze of white, with contemporary touches of black ,we dine with a chic and worldly crowd on such famed Pourcel fare as tiny Mediterranean sea urchins filled with crab meat and caviar, as well as their salad of cooked and raw vegetable of the moment, set off by a red beet caramel sauce.

Since January, the Pourcel and Chateau trio have been splitting their time between Paris and Montpellier and Paris, where they are consultants to the 10 year old Maison Blanche. The restaurant was created by chef José Lampreia, whose Maison Blanche in the 15th arrondissement was a 1980’s hit. Ten years ago he moved to the Avenue Montaigne address, but died soon after the opening.

At today’s Maison Blanche the Pourcel fare is based on the best of southern French ingredients – artichokes and asparagus in spring, truffles in winter months, along with Mediterranean sea urchins, rouget (red mullet) and daurade royale (porgy), lamb from the Pyrenees and green Lucques olives from the Languedoc.

Their wine list is amazing, filled with the best wines of Provence and the Languedoc, such as the rich and intense Domaine de la Grange des Peres, a vin de pays from the Herault, as well as the famed white Chateauneuf du Pape from the cellars of Chateau de Beaucastel.

The best dishes sampled here over several visits include their tiny penne pasta tossed with fresh fava beans, aged Parmesan, and tiny clams, all bathed in a rich basil-flavored sauce pistou; and their perfectly roasted baby leg of milk-fed lamb, cooked with a thick layer of varied herbs and served with the juices of a sweet confit of garlic. I loved, as well, their filling portions of sea urchins and caviar, and the perfectly cooked tiny poivrades artichokes, meltingly tender and irresistible.

While I find their food simpler than in the past (and applaud their success with it) I also adore the fact that, along with menu sections for cold and hot starters, fish and shellfish, meat and poultry, they also offer a good pasta and rice selection, as well as a choice of side vegetables, ranging from a rustic polenta to tiny ratte potatoes cooked with pork fat.

They even tempted me with their desserts, ranging from a loving confit of grapefruit served with a lovely lemon verbena sorbet, and an astonishingly delicious assortment of chocolate selections. Try the Mikado pralin meringue, as beautiful as it was delicious, a masterpiece of chocolate and meringue.


Maison Blanche
15 avenue Montaigne
Paris 75008
Tel : 01 47 23 55 99
Fax : 01 47 20 09 56.
Open daily. All major credit cards. A la carte, 265 to 740 francs, including service but not wine.

May the Force Be With Alain Passard

PARIS – On January 14th when chef Alain Passard boldly announced that the kitchen of his Michelin three-star restaurant Arpege would be devoting itself to vegetables, shock waves were felt throughout the food world.

But most journalists reporting the story got it wrong. While vegetables are now the focus of Passa rd’s ultra-modern cuisine, they are not the only ingredient on the plate. As revolutionary as Passard’s approach is, the shift is not towards vegetarianism, it is not aiming for nutritional balance (he has long been known for his hefty hand with butter), and its relation to the mad cow scare is only happenstance.

So while we will be seeing a lot more asparagus and spinach, carrots and beets, sage-filled ravioli and a medley of vegetables paired with couscous, Passard is also delighted to cook us his moist farm pigeon rolled in crushed almond candies, or dragée; fresh lobster from the bay of Granville in Brittany; and iodine-rich sea urchins, or oursins, served with nasturtium flowers and leaves.

Now that we have the facts straight, let me say that Passard is certainly part of a larger revolution, one I consider as grand as that revolution of the 1980s known as nouvelle cuisine. Until the last decade or so, vegetables have taken a major back seat to the protein sources on the plate: fish and shellfish, poultry and meat. They have almost always been little more than a garnish. Until Joel Robuchon made us fall in love with luscious mixed green salads and mashed potatoes, those ingredients were pretty much relegated to the home. How many of us have had a series of wonderful meals in French restaurants, only to suddenly crave greens, vegetables, anything that comes direct and fresh from the soil?

Passard, and many of his colleagues – namely the Pourcel brothers from Jardin de Sens in Montpellier and now Maison Blanche in Paris; Pierre Gagnaire, Guy Savoy and Guy Martin of Grand Vefour in Paris --- have long been vegetable advocates, serving creative dishes made up of nothing but, or using the carrot or the beet, the tomato or the radish as a starring ingredient.

Like the others, Passard’s focal shift did not happen overnight. As he likes to say, it could never have happened if he had not spent 30 years devoting himself to perfecting methods of cooking poultry and meat. His approach has always been unusual, one learned from his grandmother Louise Passard. While other chefs were oven roasting and grilling, searing and braising, he was there cooking his meats and poultry on top of the stove in a pan over the lowest possible heat in almost no liquid, a process that takes a lot of attention and a lot of time. But the result is meat and poultry that is ultimately moist and tender and full of pure flavors.

So today, he is taking that same gentle approach to vegetables and fish, cooking them ever so slowly in his favored salted butter. Again, the results are clear, pure, and admirable.

Passard likes to say of his new approach to vegetables: ”It is as if I had this friend standing next to me for 30 years in the kitchen, and I never even said hello!”

Likewise, he defends his pro-vegetable evolution by saying “’There are restaurants devoted to fish and shellfish, why not vegetables, too.”

A recent multi-course lunch at Passard’s modern dining room embellished with lovely Lalique glass panels copied from the old-fashioned railroad dining cars, suggests that he is making a fine start, but I would say he is only halfway there. Much of the problem was the very poor quality of the vegetables used (he needs to do research to find the many fabulous sources in Paris, right under his nose) as well as the overly experimental nature of many of the dishes. People may not scream at the though of paying 620 francs for a lovely layered affair of thinly sliced celery root filled with a chestnut purée, lasagna style, embellished with a fine and fragrant fresh black truffle cream. But they will blanch at paying 320 francs for a watery and tasteless turnip the size of a golf ball rolled in those almond candies and serve in a reduced onion sauce. I also feel that as Passard and other chefs delve into pure vegetarian menus that they need to learn a little bit more about balancing protein, fat and carbohydrates in a menu. While they should not be expected to be nutritionists, they need to think about satisfying a client’s need for a meal that contains at least some protein balance. They need to delve into pastas and rice, beans and legumes to balance out the pure dose of vegetables.

There are many lovely combinations to discover with Passard, and if you are willing to learn along with him, the ride could be exciting. As well as costly and filled with a touch of a gamble. I love his marriage of carrots with an iodine rich sauce of sea urchins; as well as his onions teamed up with chopped fresh pears, flambéed with pear William eau de vie, all united with a rich and endearing hazelnut sauce. Brilliantly, he cooks onions in lemon grass, or citronnelle, and pairs it with sole cooked in the sherry-like vin jaune of the Jura.

The shift towards vegetable dominance at the table is also calling for an overhaul of the Arpege wine cellar. Heavy reds don’t go well with this sort of cooking, so Passard will be changing his entire cave, adding more whites, particularly those with a vegetal bent, such as Alsatian Riesling, as well as pinot blanc and pinot gris. He favors wines from the chardonnay and Chenin blanc grapes as well.

Rightly, Passard blames standard vegetarian cuisine – with an approach that is based more on fear of food than on a love of flavors and variety -- for giving vegetables a bad name. He hopes that his approach, based on pleasures and delights and discovery will open our eyes. It is exciting, after all, for us to watch a top French chef delve deeply into this cuisine, attacking aromas and colors, nuances and fresh flavors. His experimentations with smoking, with slow cooking, with spices and condiments, flowers and fruits, with marvelous reduced vegetable stocks all have merit and can only open us up to an entirely new style of cooking.

Passard, who is 45, opened Arpege in 1986. He has had three Michelin stars since 1996. When he told Michelin of his plans, they suggested that is move was courageous.

“I am putting all the cards on the table. Putting myself and my entire career in question. My three stars, the public, my clients,” he says. Only time will tell.



Arpege
84 rue de Varenne
Paris 75007
Telephone : 01 45 51 47 33.
Fax : 01 44 18 98 39.
arpege.passard@wanadoo.fr
Closed Sunday and Monday. All major credit cards. A la carte, 700 to 1550 francs, including service but not wine.

Guy Savoy: An Open Letter to Michelin

Dear Michelin directors and inspectors,

Every spring I wait eagerly for your annual judgment on the restaurants of France, a territory I have covered closely and passionately for the past 21 years. For at least the past 10 years, I have waited with fingers crossed, in hopes that you would finally come to your senses and anoint chef Guy Savoy with his much deserved third star. What on earth are you waiting for?

Maybe there is something you are not getting, or have not noticed, so let me refresh your memory and perhaps fill in the blanks for you. I first met Guy Savoy in 1980, when he was part of a band of up and coming kid chefs, among them Alain Dutournier and Joel Robuchon. It was a muddled time of nouvelle cuisine, with chefs opening restaurants on the knowledge of 10 dishes, and you could pretty much predict you would eat the same food all over. But it was clear then that chefs such as Savoy, Dutournier, and Robuchon were not one-season wonders, but were here to stay.

Back then, Guy worked in a tiny kitchen in a small restaurant that bore his name, on the Rue Duret in the 16th arrondissement. He had one, maybe two assistants, and quickly became known for a style of cooking that was light, aesthetically appealing, and fashioned from the ingredients he loved the best. He quickly received his first merited Michelin star. Most of all, he was famed for his signature green color, his astute use of fresh herbs and dishes filled with an avalanche of vegetables. Today that may not sound like much, but remember, those were the days of single slices of kiwi and crazy salads of foie gras and green beans. Vegetables were still considered garnishes back then, not worthy of the star billing that Savoy was already giving them.

In 1987, when Gilbert and Maguy le Coze closed their famed Le Bernardin to devote themselves to their New York restaurant of the same name, Guy happily took over the large and spacious dining room near the Arc de Triomphe, on Rue Troyon. Here, he continued to grow and grow and grow, and astonish us with truly original and unusual modern fare. Many of his signature dishes can still be found there today: Such as his brilliant oysters en nage glacée, cooked in their own juices and turned into a soothing jelly. Or the incomparable artichoke soup, laced with fresh black truffles and perfect slim slices of Parmesan, a soup that is ever fragrant, satisfying, and memorable. And no cook has ever served lentils so well: Savoy cleverly pairs those earthy, peppery, flinty little beans with the fresh French black truffle, truly the earth tasting like the earth and giving of itself.

Besides the fact that his cooking is unquestionably three star, Savoy has many qualities that other three star chefs cannot begin to compete with. He is a true man of the soil, born in 1953 in a small village in the Isère, where his mother tended the local café and where his father was a municipal gardener. Vegetables and greens, the freshest of the fresh, were the rule. He not only searches out the best suppliers for his fish and his sausages, his meat and his game, his cheese and his wines, but he makes friends with all of them. On a recent year he filmed the regular visits to his suppliers all over the map of France and then, at the end of the year, invited them all for a knock-down drag out feast at his Paris restaurant. His generosity in unbounded, and totally real.

Not content to limit his creativity and reach to grand dining, Savoy was and is the most successful of several chefs to create a series of "baby bistros," or spin-offs of satellite restaurants that bear his signature and style but allow other chefs to shine. With incredible generosity, Savoy has set up and supported a series of young chefs - from the talented William Ledeuil at Les Bookinistes to Stéphane Perraud at Cap Vernet - and gives them free reign. The result is a series of restaurants each with its own personality, its own style of cuisine, reflecting the youthful, inventive, creative spirit of Savoy himself.

Do you also know how good he is to his staff, and what a mentor he can be, in this world that greatly lacks men and women who are true motivators? I know a young American woman who began peeling carrots in the basement of the Rue Troyon restaurant and in a few years worked her way up to fish chef! There are not many French chefs willing to give either a foreigner or a woman (much less one that is both!) such a fighting chance.

So here we have it, Michelin inspectors and directors. At age chef who excels at taking the best products France has to offer -- from its vineyards to its waters to its fields -- and presents them with majesty, pride, and skill. A chef who is a one-man cooking school, bringing up and encouraging whole generations of young French chefs. And a chef who does it all cheerfully, with great spirit, and intense pride.

Michelin men, what more could you ask of him? Give Guy Savoy his well-merited third star, I beg you. reserv@guysavoy.com



Guy Savoy
18 rue Troyon
Paris 75017
Tel: 01 43 80 40 61
Fax: 01 46 22 43 09
Email:reserve@guysavoy.com


Dreaming of Paris Classics

PARIS - It's the way we like to dream of classic Parisian restaurants. A family starts a small, casual restaurant, makes a go of it and their children and grandchildren keep the dream alive, as generations of faithful followers have one happy meal after another beneath the familial roof.

In this modern day of nonrestaurants and chain restaurants and places where the word patron, or owner, is often no longer part of the vocabulary, it is a joy to return to two old-time favorites.

More than two decades ago, one of my first bistro meals in Paris took place on a brusquely cold day in February, when four of us tucked ourselves into the banquettes at Chez Georges, a classic turn-of-the-century bistro with ruddy-faced waitresses, copious help-yourself portions of sleek, shiny herring fillets, and an abundance of Beaujolais. I remember thinking then, ''This is it, this is for me!'' and it pretty much has been ever since.

The cozy bistro is long and narrow, like a railroad car. You place your coats behind you on a shelf or leave them on a coat rack at the door. You sit elbow to elbow with families, eager to dive into the perfectly golden, crisp and flavorful fries, the finely grilled steak with a thick Bearnaise sauce, the outrageously delicious pan-fried duck breast paired with wild cepe mushrooms.

And don't forget the curly endive salad with bacon and a perfectly poached egg. Or the baskets of baguettes from the Lebon boulangerie across the street. And then there is the Beaujolais, still flowing free and easy, turning sour days into sweet ones.

None of this simple bistro charm happens by accident. In 1964, a man named Georges Constant left the family place on Place des Victoires, Le Roi Gourmet, and took over this sturdy bistro, complete with mirrored walls and gothic columns and rows of moleskin banquettes. Years later, his son, Bernard Brouillet, took charge, rarely changing the menu and keeping the quality constant. Well, Bertrand has passed the baton to his 33-year-old son, Arnaud, who is keeping everything as it was, and should be. His youth gives hope that it will remain so for many years to come.

Brasseries - those gargantuan restaurants begun by breweries - remain typically Parisian monuments. They are monuments to size, decoration, platters of fresh fish and shellfish and, often, mounds of steaming sauerkraut and sausages. If you look around Paris today, almost all these special places are part of a chain, and though they remain beautiful, lively and ever successful, the anonymity factor looms large, and one often feels as though the food has been churned out, without much love, from a central kitchen.

Marty - a lively and recently refurbished brasserie at the edge of the fifth arrondissement - is different. The Art Deco treasure was opened by Etienne and Marthe Marty in 1913. Over the years, it has remained a trustworthy family brasserie known for its fish and shellfish.

Their grandchildren, Francois and Genevieve Perricouche, have taken over the 200-seat restaurant, carrying out a major restoration that has turned it into a jewel. The pair hired Thierry Colas, a chef with experience at La Tour d'Argent and Laperouse, to head the kitchens and Guy Legay, a former chef at the Ritz, as consultant.

The marriage seems to be working. Dinner there had that great old-time brasserie flair, with two floors of dining rooms packed with eager and satisfied diners. Little details - a freshly lighted candle at each table, silver finger bowls and giant mounds of fresh butter (no tiny pats here, please) - make one smile.

The menu is classic, with modern touches. Try the perfectly moist roasted filet of bar, served with a lasagna of spinach and mushrooms, a hearty and appealing wintertime dish. But it was the grilled sole fillets - so thick and moist and firm I could hardly believe it - that will get me to come back for more. When is the last time you had a grilled fish, with those endearing black grill marks, that didn't leave you with an unpleasant aftertaste - all those burned and rancid bits? This sole was the best I have ever tasted cooked in this classic manner. So what that it came with only two naked boiled potatoes and lots of lemon.

The oyster starters were divine. I choose the smallest oysters on the menu because I believe that they have a more intense flavor. So I opted for the Claire No. 4, and was not disappointed. They are big and meaty enough to offer true mouth-filling texture, but small enough to serve as an elusive tease: You want more of that icy freshness and mineral rich flavor. The rye bread was delicious and everything went down just fine with the Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc from New Zealand, just one of several New World wines on their list.


Chez Georges
1 Rue du Mail
Paris 75002
tel: 01-42-60-07-11.
Closed Sunday, holidays and three weeks in August. Credit cards: American Express, Visa; a la carte, 250 to 300 francs.


Restaurant Marty
20 Avenue des Gobelins
Paris 75005
tel: 01-43-31-39-51
fax: 01-43-37-63-70.
Open daily. Credit cards: American Express, Visa; 200-franc menu weekdays; 263-franc menu with a small pitcher of wine; a la carte, 300 to 400 francs.

In Paris: A Star is Born

PARIS - It has been years since an up and coming Parisian restaurant came out of the starting gate with such a bang. One-month waiting lists may be common for grand and exclusive Michelin three-star restaurants, but a tiny newcomer run by complete unknowns?

Astrance, a small, discreet, simply appointed restaurant near the Eiffel Tower in the 16th arrondissement, is just that place. With the gentle, self-assured Christophe Rohat in the dining room and the able, agile chef Pascal Barbot in the kitchen, Astrance is headed for nothing but success.

How did this happen? Both Rohat and Barbot worked together at Alain Passard's modern and audacious Arpege in the 7th arrondissement. They dreamed of someday having a place of their own. Finally, with the help and encouragement - even insistence - of their former boss, they took the plunge and opened Astrance last October. Passard also gave the young restaurateurs a client list of 500 faithful Arpege diners. In the fall, cards went out announcing the new restaurant, and the phones have not stopped ringing since.

Astrance is tiny, just six or seven tables downstairs, two or three on a mezzanine floor. That means no more than 40 diners per service. The décor here is simple, modern, comfortable, with gunmetal-gray textured walls, giant gilt-edged frames set with beveled mirrors, finely textured white linens, chairs and banquettes in solid yellows and oranges, and a collection of modern glass and porcelain plates in bright colors and uncommon shapes.

And the food is as crisp, direct, and sure-footed as the restaurant itself. While you can see Passard influences in Barbot's cooking, the combinations, presentations, and menu itself are purely original . As with most modern French menus, the ingredient stars, and so we have crab and mussels, salmon and codfish, duck, lamb, guinea hen and veal all playing a starring role. What's best is that here we find uncommon use of the most common ingredients - from Granny Smith apples to almonds - treated with a rare self-assurance.

Eating Barbot's food makes me think of something chef Joel Robuchon used to say: ""As chefs, we don't have a right to make a mushroom taste like a carrot. Our job is to make a mushroom taste as much as a mushroom as we possibly can."

At Astrance, the flavors are pure and unmasked, but always supported and assisted by a complex cast of culinary characters. My favorite dish on the entire menu is the glorious crab and avocado "ravioli." In place of pasta we have paper-thin, round slices of the ripest green avocado, flanking mounds of sweet, brilliant pink crab. All is accompanied by perfectly salty mounds of almonds and anointed with just a touch of sweet almond oil. It can't get much better, much simpler than this. Could I have this for lunch every day for a month, please?

And life does not slide downhill after that. The plumpest, most moist mussels are embellished with butter and dotted with a mixture of chervil and breadcrumbs, and set on a bed of a tangy mix of carrots and cumin, all rich and refreshing, familiar and yet born anew at the same time. Perfectly seared scallops float in a steamy, chestnut flavored broth, while giant chunks of chestnut add a touch of sweetness, of weight, and texture. A portion of guinea hen comes crisp as can be, as though it had just been sliced from a whole-roasted bird, teamed up with just a handful of sweet, moist baby clams.

But the most brilliant is one of the chef's newest dishes, a warm buckwheat blini covered with a mound of the sweetest confit of shallots you will ever find, served with a cup of frothy, alabaster, oyster cappuccino.

The array of golden, crusty, hearty hearth breads from master baker Eric Kayser on Rue Monge in the 5th arromdissement are so good that when they give you a slice you wish they would leave the entire linen-lined basket with you.

The wine list is brief but carefully chosen by Rohat, who spends weekends and vacations combing vineyards in search of good buys, particularly in the up and coming Languedoc region of southern France. Two wines definitely worth trying include the white Minervois Domaine de la Tour Boisée, a floral blend that includes both chardonnay and viognier grape; and a simple vin de table made near Montpellier, Domaine Belle Pierre, a golden, highly flattering, faintly sweet wine made from both the viognier and petite negrette grapes.

The name Astrance is a result of Parisian restaurateurs obsession with restaurants beginning with the letter A, on the assumption that the earlier you are in the alphabet, the better chance you have of diners calling you first. It works: Think of the former Archestrate, as well as Arpege and Apicius. But when Rohat and Barbot went searching for a name, they found that all the good A words had been taken. Then one day Rohat was hiking in the mountains of the Auvergne and came upon a wild flower named Grand Astrance. He called his partner to claim the name, and the rest is history.



Astrance
4 rue Beethoven
Paris 75016
Tel: 01 40 50 84 40.
Fax : 01 40 50 11 45.
Closed Sunday and Monday. All major credit cards. 180-franc lunch menu. A la carte, 250 francs, including service but not wine.

Ode to the Black Truffle: Bring It On and Don't Be Stingy

VAISON LA ROMAINE -- This time of year in Provence is time for war. The truffle wars you might call them. Wars over prices. Wars over quantity and quality. Wars over whose truffles these really are.

We have a small oak tree-framed vineyard where those strange and rare, fragrant and mysterious black truffles can be found at the edges of the vines from late November to early March. Much like the varied wild mushrooms that grow in our woods, all the locals truly believe these truffles are THEIRS. As foreigners we may own the property, but that's a mere legality. The locals have a birthright.

In the early years poachers came up when we were in residence on weekends or holidays, digging around the vineyards with playful mutts with names like Penelope or Dynamo. We would go out and join the fun, watching as the dogs would assuredly point a paw to a spot in the chalky soil, and we would begin digging. Sometimes we would unearth a treasure - anywhere from the size of an olive to one bigger than a golf ball - and there were days we gathered enough to really experiment with these precious underground wonders.

Now, as truffles get more and more rare and more and more expensive (they were selling for 4,400 francs a kilo a few weeks ago), the playful digging has stopped. Poachers are bolder. They comb the vineyard when we are there and when we are not and most often hand over "our" half as a much begrudged token.

Actually, if the truffle as it is today did not exist the French would have to find a worthy substitute. The black truffle has all the qualities of a much sought after commodity. It is rare. Man has not been able to reproduce it. It is coveted gastronomically. It can be hunted in secret. And best of all - even in declared markets such as one finds in the village of Richerenches on Saturday or Carpentras on Friday morning -- it is still sold out of trunks of cars, the treasures secreted away in old pillowcases made of thick ticking material. An under-the-counter, thumb your nose at the Feds cash business, what could be better!

But it does get better. For the same qualities that apply to finding and selling or buying a truffle apply to cooking it. Or not cooking it. In the kitchen, there are few ingredients as tricky. Or with such potential danger for disaster. Which is why so few cooks, or chefs for that matter, manage to get it right. Assuming that you have a perfect specimen - a truffle that is firm and not spongy, fragrant, and big enough to matter - you can still get yourself in a lot of trouble and turn that expensive luxury into a great big nothing.

It's hard to believe, but what is most appealing about a truffle is its texture. Crunchy, what the French call croquant, and it's in that crunch that you release in your mouth, throughout all your olfactory senses, the earthy, woodsy, magical fragrance of the truffle. Cook a truffle and you lose both crunch and aroma. Slice it and serve it raw and you still are not there. The truffle needs a companion: a touch of olive oil and a sprinkling of French fleur de sel are best, for they provide just enough moisture, just enough seasoning to help the truffle shine. Cut a truffle and leave it on a counter for a few seconds and it dries up, dying a very rapid death. I have probably seen more great truffle ruined by the heat of a kitchen than anything else.

Which brings me to how French chefs treat truffles. Considering the briefness of the season and the cost, few chefs are allowed much first hand experience with truffles, so how can one expect mastery? Second, they rarely have the luxury of using an avalanche of truffles in a dish (as Joel Robuchon did at his restaurants in the late 1980's and early 1990's) and so it is hard to bring the public (which has little experience either) to its knees.

Truffle menus abound today all over France, at justified high prices. A few evenings ago we had a lovely meal at the Chateau de Rochegude, a Relais Chateau hotel and restaurant in the heart of Provence's truffle country, only a few minutes from the famed truffle capital of Richerenches. The truffle six course truffle menu must be applauded for its simplicity. But it suffered in the same way that so many truffle menus do: There were not enough truffles, and when there were truffles they were not used to their best advantage. A single truffle slice, or maybe two, in the steaming cappuccino of chestnuts was not enough to allow your palate to even recognize the truffle was there. A room temperature poached egg on top of a bed of celery root remoulade could have been a fine base for the truffle, but the cool temperature never allowed the truffle to exude its fragrance. The most successful dish was a giant "raviole" of truffle, really two sheets of pasta the size of a salad plate, gently filled with a mixture of sautéed mushrooms and artichokes and plenty of black truffles. Now we were talking: There was texture, there was warmth, there was fragrance. And pleasure. Other dishes - a truffled chicken bouillon and quail stuffed with truffles and sautéed foie gras - were good on their own, but would have been just as good without the truffle. I loved the idea of shaving fresh black truffles over the seasonal cow's cheese from the Jura - Vacherin - but, again, the shavings were just too stingy to make a big difference.



Chateau du Rochegude
Rochegude.
Tel : 04 75 97 21 10.
Fax : 04 75 04 89 87.
Closed Tuesday lunch and Sunday dinner, and Monday off season. Credit cards: American Express, Diners Club, Visa. Menus at 250 to 550, truffle menu at 750 francs, including service but not wine.

It's the Season

Paris -- It's the season. Sea bass, lobster, sole, herring, oysters, scallops, squid, and porgy are all at their peak of winter, cold-water freshness, so now is the time to reserve a table at your favorite fish and shellfish restaurant. Paris offers a grand variety of restaurants, including a newcomer and a classic spot with a change of ownership.

The newest spot is a sixth Francois Clerc bistro, this one devoted to fish and shellfish. Clerc started his first "good value" bistro in 1994, offering a fine varied menu at good prices along with a staggering array of exceptionally priced wines.

Les Bouchons de Francois Clerc Coté Mer is located right off the Champs-Elysees, in what was most recently the Androuet cheese restaurant. Decorated in butter yellow walls with linens a tone paler and bright blue, yellow and green upholstered chairs, the place is cozy and welcoming. The varied menu offers some fine choices, such as a an excellent grilled dorade (porgy) and a fine crayfish salad. But the real stars of the show are the wines and the prices: Didier Dagueneau's famed Loire Valley Pouilly Fume cuvee Silex, vintage 1999 for 273 francs; George Vernay's 1999 Condrieu from the Rhone Valley for 161 francs; and the delicious Roederer Brut champagne for only 159 francs.

The Place de la Madeleine landmark fish restaurant, known for years as Prunier, then Prunier-Goumard and now Goumard has had a series of owners over the years. The most recent owner is Philippe Dubois, and the food is better, fresher, and less expensive than it has been in years. Too bad the restaurant has all the energy and excitement of a drab hotel dining room and the sad-faced staff all but makes you want to turn around and walk out the door.

But the new Goumard offers some stunning dishes, including a classic sole meuniere (offered both bathed in butter and "seche," and filleted tableside); an extraordinarily fresh grilled bar; a brilliant fricassee of baby clams bathed in a mix of cream and fresh thyme, anointed with a touch of cherry-flavored kirsch; and some of the freshest scallops I have tasted in years, perfectly pan fried, making for a nutty, intense crust and a smooth, sweet interior.

The wine list here offers few bargains. A decent bet is a good value wine that loves fish and shellfish, the Saint Veran, Domaine des Deux Roches, vintage 1999, priced at 180 francs.

An all-time favorite Parisian fish spot remains the pleasant, personal, and discreet restaurant run by Paul and Sonya Canal. Here, amidst a bright blue and white décor and a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower, you can be assured of dishes that are inventive without being self-conscious. A case in point is Canal's fine first-course offering of fresh Brittany langoustines: They sweet, ultra-fresh shellfish are removed from their shell, very lighted breaded, and turned into an airy tempura. Teamed up with tempuras of pepper, eggplant, and zucchini, it's a sunny dish for a dark winter's day. The best main course items here remain the grilled sole and the whole sea bass cooked in a salt crust.




Les Bouchons de Francois Clerc Coté Mer
8 rue Arsene Houssaye
Paris 75008
Telephone 01 42 89 15 51
Fax : 01 42 89 28 67.
www.bouchonsdefrancoisclerc.com
Open daily. All major credit cards. 234-franc menu.



Goumard
9 rue Duphot
Paris 75001
Telephone : 01 42 60 36 07
fax : 01 42 60 04 54.
Open daily. All major credit cards: 25-franc lunch menu. A la carte, 350 to 450 francs including service but not wine.




Port Alma
10 avenue de New York
Paris 75016
Telephone 01 47 23 75 11
Fax: 01 47 20 42 92.
Closed Sunday and Monday. All major credit cards. 200-franc weekday lunch menu. A la carte, 300 to 440 francs, including service but not wine

Alain Dutournier's Carré des Feuillants

Paris -- Passion in life can take you a long way. As the talented chef Alain Dutournier proves year after year, meal after meal. He's one of the most well rounded chefs I know, not only embracing his love of food and all the products that go into creating a magnificent style of cuisine he has the right to call his one. Beyond food, he fires his passions for bullfights and rugby, for cigars and wine. If this was America we'd call him an "all-American" guy. Why does "all French" guy just not sound the same?

At the age of 51, this native of France's fertile southwest still has the enthusiasm of someone decades younger, and he is a man full of pride. For his country, for his native Landes region, for his own accomplishments.

A recent dinner at his warm and welcoming Carre des Feuillants suggests he does not miss a beat, offering up a truly harmonious cuisine full of maturity and complexity. Fare that has the ability to surprise yet is actually quite simple in its underpinnings.

While over the years his menu has stayed true to his native foundation - there will always be foie gras and corn bread, game and wild mushrooms, Pyrénées lamb and the famed beef from Chalosse. But he lets himself stretch beyond, dipping into Italy for exquisite white truffles from Alba, to Brittany for sweet and plump scallops and regal turbot, to the coast of Bordeaux for oysters tinged green from the rich beds of algae, to England for his own rich versions of fruit crumble, and to China for Sichuan pepper- flavored sauces.

It is rare for a diner to work up the same enthusiasm for every course, from first to middle to end, but Dutournier has that rare talent - and evenness - to get us just as excited about the gingerbread crumble (our last bite) as we were about the plump Gillardeau green-tinged Marennes oysters bathed in a sea water jelly and teamed up with tiny open-face sandwiches layered with a fine slice of foie gras (our first welcome bite).

A meal at Carre des Feuillants has the ability to move along like a fine piece of music, carrying us along on a fine rhythmical ride. Following the tease of the oysters, we submerge ourselves into a wild mushroom wonderland, a trio of cèpe preparations that include gently marinated mushrooms, another version that carefully pan-fried, all teamed up with Dutournier's trademark "petit pâté chaude," a warming cool weather pâté that is a complex and finely texture mélange of fresh cèpes , dried cèpes , shallots, parsley, eggs, butter, cream and walnut oil, all punctuated with a touch of nutmeg, and gently baked in a soothing bain marie.

Soup comes in the form of triple alliance of a rich pheasant stock enriched with sweet chestnuts. As a finish the chef floats bits of smooth poached pheasant breast, chunks of chestnuts and then gilding the lily in the finest of manners, a final layer of Italian white truffles.

But I guess I hold the softest spot for his true white truffle extravaganza, a beautifully composed, deftly seasoned "galette" a rather complex mixture of sliced raw scallops, arugula, artichokes, mushrooms and Parmesan all layered and bound with a hazelnut vinaigrette, then topped with a thick layer of fragrant white truffles. Finally for a brilliant juxtaposition, Dutournier tops the galette with a crispy sweet/salty cumin wafer. Bravo!

As if it could not get better, it does, in the name of whole roasted poularde, a plump, moist fatted hen from the Chalosse region, paired with a simple and sublime mix of varied wild mushrooms.

Dutournier knows his wines and shows how he can play the food-wine marriages with bravura: The oysters were delighted to be paired with a 1997 Riesling from the house of Kientzler, while the poularde was well escorted by the 1995 Chapelle de la Mission Haut Brion. And the gingerbread crumble could not have been in finer company that that of a 1991 vin de paille, the rare sweet wine from the Jura, this one from the house of P. Botin.


Carré des Feuillants
14 rue de Castiglione
Paris 75001
Tel: 01 42 86 82 82
Fax: 01 42 86 07 71.
Credit cards: American Express, Diners Club, Visa. Closed Saturday lunch, Sunday and August. 320 franc lunch menu,750-franc tasting menu. A la carte, 550 to 700 francs including service but not wine.

Bruno Gendarmes' Bistrot de l'Etoile Niel

Paris -- The concept of the typical Parisian neighborhood bistro - a place you might find yourself two or three nights a week, always among friends - may appear to be a dinosaur, but not quite. One place that fits the bill in the most classic and contemporary sense is Bruno Gendarmes' Bistrot de l'Etoile Niel.

Gendarmes is a Guy Savoy acolyte, former partner in the Niel operation, and now full-time owner of this warm, cozy, intimate bistro that day after day, night after night, serves simple fare that bridges the gap between classic and modern bistro fare.

For the autumn, this 10 year old bistro is, in fact, replaying the "classics" of the last ten years. As a choice for the first course, you'll find everything from the traditional pork terrine served with a salad of lamb's lettuce and turnips, to the artichoke soup punctuated by bits of foie gras. But my favorites include both the creamy risotto studded with a variety of shellfish, surrounded with a brilliant emulsion of ginger and lime; and the pan-fried mix of wild mushrooms paired with tiny "petit gris" snails, parsley juice and irresistible dried garlic chips. Like just about everything that Gendarmes turns out, the food has flavor, depth, intensity and purpose. And I like the fact that he surprises us with tastes of ginger and lime, fresh coriander and a confit of lemon. Each, in its own way, suits us just fine on a cool autumn day.

With its mixture of bare wooden floors and 1930's tiles, Art Deco style bistro chairs, chocolate-colored walls and and a fine sidewalk terrace, it's a fun, nice, easy kind of place where everyone seems to be there for a good time, and has it.

Main courses here are welcoming and varied. Fish lovers will rave over the filet of St Pierre (oops, a bit too salty on my last visit) served with deliciously decadent potatoes crushed with butter and herbs; while poultry mavens will love the chicken fricassée served with a delightful celery root purée enlivened by fresh coriander and gentle bits of lemon confit. Heartier fare here includes swoonable portions of crépinette de joues et pieds de porc (pork feet and cheeks wrapped in caul fat) teamed up with a ragout of penne pasta, all anointed with a rich sage-infused sauce.

And if none of this hits the spot, there are the Monday through Saturday daily specials, ranging from roast chicken to veal kidneys, salt cod purée or roast leg of lamb.

And for dessert, one need look no further than their famed warm chocolate cake, served with a rich and soothing vanilla ice cream.


Bistrot de l'Etoile Niel
75 Avenue Niel
75017 Paris
Tel: 01 42 27 88 44
Fax: 01 42 27 32 12.
Closed Saturday lunch and Sunday. Credit cards: American Express, Diners Club, Visa. Menus at 148 and 175 francs. A la carte, 220 to 300 francs, including service but not wine.

Hélène Darroze

Paris -- She is just a little wisp of a girl, a quiet blonde powerhouse from the Basque country of France. A year ago, Hélène Darroze set off a spark of excitement when she moved her southwestern French restaurant to the capital, making us all swoon over the white corn meal polenta from her native land, laced with hefty portions of Basque sheep's milk cheese and layered with raw as well as sautéed cèpes . We loved, as well, her creamy foie gras flan topped with grilled cepes, the cold white bean soup, and the crushed brandade spiced with Basque red peppers.

That was all upstairs, in the rather formal dining room that has since netted her a worthy Michelin star.

But now, I am talking about downstairs, the main floor dining room originally meant to serve as a table d'hôte, a casual spot where cassoulet or hefty southwestern plat du jours could be served at giant tables to be shared by one and all.

For both dining rooms, a frustrated hue and a cry went out over service, over slowness, over an overall question of just what was going on here. Hélène listened, and come this fall opened the new Salon d'Hélène to replace the old table d'hôte.

My advice is to walk, run, skip on over with a handful of hungry diners in tow. Let yourself go! Have a good time! I did and can't remember when I laughed as much or last had such an unusually casual good time at table in Paris .

First of all, the décor is smashing. Modern. Bright. Hip. Gorgeous black wood tables from the Left Bank shop Mondenature, and chairs in brilliant hues of rose, purple, orange. Music is modern and a bit too loud for my ears, but, hey, better this than a stodgy old joint.

And the food? Equally fun, modern, inventive, surprising. Good. Tapas you say? Yes!

Hélène has shown how modern and clever she can be at the ripe age of 33. Lots of lovely little bites: Cold tapas, warm tapas, cheese tapas, sweet tapas. Miam! Can't tell you which ones I loved the best. A great ceviche or marinated raw tuna touched with the spicy Basque red pepper from Espelette. Great creamy, ultra-nutty white beans - haricots mais - teamed up with equally nutty palourdes, or small and delicate clams. A favorite for sure were the warm fried "nehms" or Vietnamese-inspired spring rolls wrapped around a mixture of ginger-infused shellfish served with a sweet and sour dipping sauce. Or maybe it was the cannelloni, gratineed with Basque sheep's milk cheese and teamed up with the delicious southwestern ham from Pierre Oteiza. Oh, and don't forget the langoustines tempura, served with a red pepper chutney.

To my mind, each of these miniature creations, inspired by the Spanish custom of taking little bites of savory fare is brilliant and beautifully executed. I would not want to eat this way each and every day, but for a decadent lunch now and then, it's just the ticket.

The cheese tapas are equally delicious with the smooth, almost runny goat's cheese Cabécou de Rocamadour served with a hazelnut and raisin bread, as well as the famed Basque sheep's milk cheese paired with the traditional black cherry jam.

The lunch menu offers a quick and rapid fix, with a choice of a tapas of the day, a plat du jour (which may range from braised veal head cheese to roasted scallops with chestnuts and onions and on to roasted duck breast with an assortment of spices) and a glass of wine for 140 francs.

Tapas prices themselves range from 35 to 90 francs each, and I advise you go with at least three other people so you can sample a good range of Hélène's fare.


Salon d'Hélène
4 rue d'Assas
Paris 75006
Tel: 01 42 22 00 11.
Fax: 01 42 22 25 40.
Closed Saturday lunch and all day Sunday. Open noon to 2:30 P.M. and 7:30 P.M. to 10:30 P.M. Tapas priced from 35 to 90 francs. Four-Tapas assortment, 85 francs. Plat du jour, 98 francs. Lunch formulas from 145 to 185 francs. Credit cards: Visa, American Express.

All Star Dinner: Lucas Carton

Paris -- So what would you cook for lunch if all 37 Michelin three-star chefs turned up on your doorstep?

Chef Alain Senderens (one of the illustrious 37) thought long and hard, and as is wont, he began with the wines as he planned an early October lunch to celebrate 100 years of the Michelin guide.

Let's see, what shall we pair with a 1998 Château Pape Clément white? The wine evokes a touch of citrus, a lot of white fruit, hmmm. Let's go for a very creamy mound of polenta, orange the color or an orange, colored by the brilliant red coral of lobster, seasoned with a good hit of lemon zest a touch of ginger, and one giant, moist, tender lobster claw to set it all of? Delicious? Silly, how could it not be.

Next challenge, a special cuvée of the illustrious champagne Gosset, the cuvée celebris 1990. Now it gets really interesting. Ok, we have the wine, but shall it be by the bottle or the magnum? Big difference. For Senderens, the master of pairing food with wine, the magnum called out for raw mushrooms, the bottle (which tasted older, more aged, because of its condensed size) seemed to beg for cooked mushrooms. So there we had it, a trio of the freshest, most moist wild cèpes, or meaty boletus mushrooms. Two versions went with the magnum: one cut into a fine julienne and seasoned with lemon juice and olive oil, another cut into thick slices and marinated. Another win. The third version, to go with the meatier champagne in the bottle, was stuffed with minced mushroom and cooked whole, to a tender, rich meatiness. Did someone say meat?

Now we move on to a red Bordeaux Graves, Château Pape Clément 1990 (yes, rich and meaty meaty). Well, pigeon of course, touched with a super-delicate, almost infinitesimal taste of licorice (reglisse) and teamed up with rounds of very very tender turnips. Zap! Another wine, another paring that makes your mouth and your palate happy to be, well, a mouth and a palate.

The cheese course was not a cinch but almost. A 1985 Rozes vintage port, rinsing the palate that has just devoured creamy bits of fourme d'Ambert, the rich and memorable cow's milk blue cheese from the Auvergne. Senderens sent us all swooning with his spicy brioche, spiked with cinnamon and dried fruits.

The lunch was a walk down memory lane for many. For Paul Bocuse (three Michelin stars in Lyon for 35 years) and Paul Troisgros ( three Michelin stars in Roanne for 33 years) there was talk of the day they met on this very spot, the restaurant Lucas Carton 50 years ago, when the luxurious Art Nouveau restaurant was a bastion of classic French cuisine. Both Bocuse and Troisgros were each 25 years old, and as they recall, here they were, cooking brand name Escoffier cuisine from the chef's bible of the time, Grignoire et Saulnier.

(Together, along with the Haeberlin family of the Auberge de l'Ill in Alsace, the three restaurants have 100 years of three stars.)

"There are not many here in this room who remember classical French cooking," mused Bocuse. "Does it matter that they don't? Not really," he declared, ever in a jovial, contented mood.

Around the room, each three-star chef and restaurateur had a chance to say a word. For restauranteur Jean-Claude Vrinat, who took over Paris 's Taillevent from his father, the decision to become a restaurateur came - you guessed it - while dining at Lucas Carton. Other chefs had passed through this kitchen, include Paris 's Pierre Gagnaire and Burgundy's Jacques Lameloise.

For Michel Guérard of France's southwest, the challenge of maintaining three stars is "like Michelin asking us to be Olympic champions every day." For Bernard Loiseau of Burgundy, "the toughest thing in life is to endure."

At the end of the day, Alain Senderens had the last word: "One can say that today, I am the only Michelin three-star chef who is working!"

While some items from the Michelin lunch may or may not show up on the menu at Lucas Carton, diners can always be assured of intelligent wine and food pairing, any season, any time of year.


LUCAS CARTON
9, place de la Madeleine
Paris 75008
Tel: 01 42 65 22 90
Fax: 01 42 65 06 23
All major credit cards. Closed the first three weeks of August, Saturday lunch, all day Sunday, and Monday lunch. 395-franc lunch menu; A la carte, 750 to 1140 francs, including service but not wine.

The New Guy Savoy

Paris -- What a joy it is to follow a career, watch a chef constantly grow, evolve, excite, create, and recreate. Guy Savoy is not someone to settle. His passion for food, his huge appetite for art, his hunger for new wines all merge seamlessly in his newest recreation, a brand new décor, concept and cuisine at the flagship restaurant that bears his name.

Open since late August, the "new" Guy Savoy retains much of what we loved about the old: service that may well be the best in Paris, wine excitement that you seldom see in even the best of establishments, and a cuisine that is 100% HIS. And each dish signed with a touch of Guy's special shade of green: The green of a giant basil leaf, the green of a thick broccoli purée, the green of a baby leek, the green of a tender artichoke.

Why is it that the first thing you put in your mouth at the beginning of a meal is so often the taste you remember the longest and love the most? The first of a series of brilliant new dishes from his new menu was the best: Imagine a clear glass soup bowl aglow in bright reds and greens, offset by clear see-through jelly that carries with it the perfumes of the sea. Tiny fillets of Mediterranean rouget (little red mullet) and meaty lisette (baby mackerel), giant leaves of basil and lipstick-red rounds of tomatoes, seem to float about in a clear sea-scented jelly - cool and smooth and refreshing - and then, plop, the waiter adds a brilliant green touch, a bright seaweed-scented sorbet. I wanted to don a swimming suit and jump in: For me, it was like the last taste of summer that I'll remember all winter long. (And the dish itself shows clearly Guy Savoy's evolution, evoking his famous oyster dish that's teamed up with a sea-scented gelatin.)

Equally exciting but marred by a heavy hand with the salt cellar was his new trio of meaty, gorgeous langoustine - those lobster-like sea creatures that have the texture of a puffy cloud - on a creamy bed of broccoli purée with tiny, crunchy broccoli flowers.

The menu offered a lovely summer-fall transition, with first of season girolles (chanterelles), and a presentation that shows off Savoy's cleverness and ability to keep things simple and sublime at the same time. He posed a mound of the tiniest, most intensely flavored mushrooms in a puddle of wild mushroom juices, topped them with a paper-thin, lace-like potato cake, then a crispy, crunchy slice of the thinnest of grilled Spanish ham.

I would kill to be able to replicate his combination of rare duck breast and seared foie gras set on a bed of baby spinach. Team this with a tiny lace-like cookie, flavored with chocolate and black pepper, and sauce made with a trio of vinegars, and you have a marriage made in heaven. Here, color, texture, aromas blend to create a composition that could become a French classic. (The dish, alas, was marred by another overdose of salt.)

Dessert was a sheer and seamless as the rest of the meal, with a creation that again asks us to pay attention to textural pleasures, with great contrasts of smooth and crunchy: A lovely apple compote dotted with crunchy bits of chestnut, embellished with paper-think slices of dried apples.

The décor of the new room is sophisticated, harmonious, warm, and comfortable. Warm woods, cozy touches of leather, abbreviated use of stone come together to create what Savoy calls "an auberge for the 21st century."


Guy Savoy
18 rue Troyon
Paris 75017
Tel: 01 43 80 36 22
Fax: 01 46 22 43 09
reserve@guysavoy.com
Closed Saturday lunch and Sunday. All major credit cards. 980-franc menu. A la carte 800 francs, including service but not wine.

Savoring an Outdoor Meal in Paris Garden and Sidewalk Terraces Enrich the Last Days of Summer

I know few dining pleasures anywhere in the world as exquisite as an outdoor meal in Paris. On those rare occasions when the weather is right and you can secure a table, dining on a restaurant's terrace in this city cannot be surpassed.

I hit the jackpot a few weeks ago with four outdoor nights in a row - a record for me. My all-time favorite terrace in Paris is Laurent, the pastel-pink 19th-century hunting lodge in the gardens of the Champs-Elysees. Here, the talented chef Philippe Braun (with the consulting assistance of Joel Robuchon) has created a menu of sheer simplicity with a certain touch of genius. The frosting on the cake is the fabulous service provided by Philippe Bourguignon and Patrick Lair.

Opt for the Menu Pavillon - well-priced at 390 francs ($55). Begin with the veal-stuffed ravioli teamed with the most delicious artichokes, a marvelous dish that is made for light, summertime eating. The thinnest pasta encases veal knuckle that has been cooked to a melting tenderness. The flavorful juices from the roasting serve as a lean, exquisite sauce.

And what better to follow than a spit-roasted Bresse chicken, crisp pommes soufflees and a green salad filled with a tangle of herbs. The chicken is moist, the skin is crisp, the potatoes golden and irresistible.

Dessert awaits - a fine lemon macaroon paired with fraises des bois, tiny wild strawberries. Or order a sweet compote of fresh strawberries set off by a lactic, acidic sorbet au fromage blanc.

On the a la carte menu, my favorites included the delightful fresh Brittany langoustines wrapped in Moroccan feuille de brick pastry and expertly deep-fried, served in a rich basil sauce with a gentle green salad. I crave Braun's elegant roast turbot, simplicity at its best, served with earthy, baby potatoes and new onions.

Lair worked his magic one more time, suggesting two outstanding wines: a 1998 Condrieu from Francois Villard, an almost lavish wine with beautiful structure, and a rare, much sought after Coteaux du Languedoc, 1994 Clos Syrah Leone, a rich winner with tons of intense, berry fruitiness.


Laurent
41 Avenue Gabriel
Paris 75008
Tel: 01-42-25-00-39
Fax: 01-45-62-45-21.
Open daily. Credit cards: American Express, Diners Club, Visa. Menus at 390 to 960 francs. A la carte, 700 to 800 francs.



Of all the modern bistros to open in the past few years, one of the best in terms of originality and spark is Dame Jeanne, in the Bastille area.

Service remains slow as molasses but that does not stop me from returning when I have a chance. The 120-franc ''fruit and vegetable'' menu is a dream, with such starters as a whole, peeled tomato stuffed with a mixed salad of steamed vegetables, including carrots, chives, broccoli and cauliflower tossed in a good vinaigrette.

Next comes a vegetable lasagne: featherlight, and paper-thin pasta layered with the most wonderful ratatouille - diced eggplant, zucchini and tomato - topped with the sheerest dose of cheese. The dish is served in an individual gratin dish, and comes with a green salad. A la carte offerings might include gazpacho served in a most original manner - from a glass beaker on a small white porcelain tray, with bits of parmesan, herbs and tomatoes as garnish.

A first-rate preparation of simple grilled lamb chops arrives with a rich potato puree. For wine, I opted for a 1998 Pic St. Loup, from the Languedoc, a 1998 Chateau de Cazeneuve ''Les Calcaires'' from Andree Leenhart. The wine appeared harsh at first, but with a little breathing rounded out the meal wonderfully.

Dame Jeanne
60 Rue de Charonne
Paris 75011
Tel: 01-47-00-37-40
Fax: 01-47-00-37-45.
Closed Saturday lunch and Sunday. Closed from the end of August to Sept. 12. Credit card: Visa. Menus at 110, 128 and 168 francs.



Move on to one of my favorite bistros, Au Bon Accueil, with its elbow-to-elbow-tiny sidewalk terrace, a fine menu and an attractive view of the Eiffel Tower.

Jacques Lacipiere, the owner, is clearly working to upgrade the level of food offered at this jam-packed restaurant and let's hope he succeeds. The food is becoming more sophisticated without losing any of its original charm. On the 175-franc ($24) menu you might find a rich and creamily delicious risotto flavored with tiny, woodsy girolles - chanterelles - a Parmesan cookie and plenty of minced chives, or roasted leg and shoulder of lamb from France's Pauillac region, served with a rich rosemary-infused juice.

Desserts include a fine grapefruit-enhanced creme br?lee and a heavenly moelleux au chocolat served with fresh raspberries and strawberries. A la carte offerings include a fabulous turbot steamed with an avalanche of herbs, accompanied by a warm rendition of the popular a la grecque vegetable preparation, including lightly pickled carrots, onions and mushrooms.

Au Bon Accueil
14 Rue de Monttessuy
Paris 75007
Tel: 01-47-05-46-11.
Closed Saturday and Sunday. Credit card: Visa. Menu at 175 francs. A la carte, 280 to 350 francs.

Illustrious Pic

VALENCE -- The first time we dined at the illustrious, longtime Michelin three-star restaurant Pic was in the 1970’s, all part of a gastronomic blitz about France. Pic was on the schedule for dinner, but that Sunday morning as we tried to start the engine on our leased Renault parked near a church in Lyon, flames began to fly from the engine.

“Incendie!” was the first word that came from our lips. As a Frenchmen walked out the church and came to our aid, the first thing he did was correct our French. This was not an “incendie” but a ‘petit feu.”

At any rate, we had a car to tow to the repair shop so did not make our lunch date at the then-renowned Pyramide in Vienne. Instead, we hopped a train to Valence to make sure we would be fed at dinner time.

I remember the meal at Pic as glorious but more important I remember the breakfast that morning in the dining room, the freshly cut rose in the silver vase, and our good bye. As we departed, intending to walk to the train station, chef Jacques Pic suggested the staff bring our car around. When he realized we had no car and were walking to the station, he grabbed a chef from the kitchen to drive us. As we drove off, Monsieur Pic raced after us on foot, with a bottle of champagne and a Relais & Château key chain as a souvenir. That memory of gentle kindness has stayed with me for decades as a reminder of just how generous the French can be. And we still use the key chain for the keys to our wine cellar.

Much has changed at Pic since then. Jacques Pic passed away, his son, Alain briefly took over the stoves, and now, after a family feud, 30-year-old daughter Anne-Sophie Pic her husband, David Sinapian, along with mother Suzanne are running the illustrious hotel-restaurant, which now has two Michelin stars. (Alain Pic can now be found in Grenoble, at the restaurant Les Mesanges-Alain Pic.)

I will admit to a bit of apprehension at returning to this, one of the most traditional of grand French restaurants. Sometimes the weight of tradition weighs just too much, and I did wonder what could this 30-year-old gal tell us about the all that has passed through these august kitchens.

I was delightfully surprised, for what I found was truly luscious fare, a menu that on paper appears overly ambitious but on the plate comes off as modern, light, ethereal, full of clean, clear flavors. In fact the hardest part of the meal is wading through the menu choices and names. But once you’ve made up your mind and placed your order, you are home free!

The tiny Anne-Sophie seems to work like a fireball, instilling new, revitalized ideas in a very classical house. While on paper many of the dishes seem to have a very Asian touch (as do the many clean-lined dishes on which she serves her very personal fare) the end result has its roots in classical French cuisine.

And so she will tease us with appetizers of moist chicken skewered on twigs of fragrant rosemary, or offer us tiny madeleines seasoned with bits of ham and Parmesan cheese, and rolls of smoked salmon served in tiny paper cups.

Vegetables get star billing here in almost every dish, as she pairs salads of lobster, crab, and langoustines with baby leaves of red-ribbed Swiss chard and arugula, with drizzles of a mayonnaise smooth and sheer as organdy.

Fresh langoustines appear on top of deliciously seasoned crab meat studded with lime zest, surrounded by all my favorite veggies: teepees of asparagus, fresh fava beans, and baby spinach leaves anointed, again with that sheer and airy mayonnaise.

A symphony of flavors abound in a simple serving of ceteaux – precious baby soles – delicately pan fried and paired with the tiniest of baby squid stuffed with pasta and a pistou-like sauce.

A main course of guinea hen – pintade – stuffed with olive leaves, rosemary, fennel, dried tomatoes and black olives – was a pure delight in flavor and presentation. The poultry was prepared in the most traditional of ways – en vessie – or wrapped in a pig’s bladder and poached in chicken stock, making for a moist, fragrant bird. The marriage of the tender guinea hen meat, the stuffing, all served with great buttery girolles (chanterelles) and tiny ratte potatoes was made in heaven.

The only disappointment of the meal was the bottle of Chapoutier’s famed white Hermitage, a 1997 Chante Alouette, a wine that seemed flat and uneventful, as it should not be when priced at 490 francs a bottle. We recovered, however, with a bottle of simple but sublime red Côtes du Rhône, a Château d’Hugues 1995 well-priced at 140 francs.



Pic
285 boulevard Victor Hugo
26000 Valence
Tel: 04 75 44 15 32
Fax: 04 75 40 96 03.
Closed two weeks in January, Sunday evening, Tuesday lunch, and Monday from November to March. Menus at 430 and 660 francs. A la carte, 490 to 660 francs, including service but not wine.

Staggeringly Simple, Extremely Well-Executed

CHÂTEAU ARNOUX, FRANCE- Many chefs talk about just-picked garden freshness and French regional pride but few attend to the task as eagerly and authentically as Arlette, Pierre, and Jany Gleize the inseparable family trio from the memorable hotel restaurant La Bonne Etape, here in the Alpes de Haute Provence.

I have known the family for at least 15 years and return each time as an old friend, a fellow warrior in the combat against the sameness and inauthenticity of so many regional menus. The first time I dined at this 18th-century relais de poste (stagecoach stop) flavors virtually leapt from the plate: Pierre Gleize's tender zucchini blossoms . picked from his garden outside the restaurant at sunset . stuffed with a vibrant mix of garlic, mint, and zucchini; his fragrant Sisteron lamb; or the pungent Banon goat. s milk cheese aged in dried chestnut leaves, all accompanied by aromatic sips of the red, white or rose Palette from Château Simone.

A recent return visit brought all that happiness back once more, following a sensory -heightened drive up and down Mont Ventoux and through the lavender-strewn fields along some of France's best back roads.

The food at La Bonne Etape is staggeringly simple, extremely well-executed. The son, Jany, is now at the stove, and, gratefully, brings no huge ego to the table: What. s on the plate is about the ingredients, pure and simple. He is one of the most creative chefs I know, yet the creativity is not shoved in your face. There is nothing complicated, nothing you have to strain your brain to understand. But don. t confuse simple with professional: This is food of the highest level, dishes glazed or teamed up with sauces you don't turn out of in a home kitchen in a matter of seconds.

More than a week later (with many restaurant meals and many memorable dishes consumed since that time) I can close my eyes and still see and taste the food.

Who could not love the purity of his soothing ravioli stuffed with a mixture of mushrooms, Swiss chard and spinach, bathed in a shiny red tomato sauce? The brilliant red, white and green transport you right across the border to Italy.

Joël Robuchon came to mind when I sampled Jany. s bed of meltingly soft onions and black truffles topped with a Tiddly Wink arrangement of perfect rounds of delicious potatoes, decorated with a crispy Parmesan tuile cookie.

Fresh tuna is cooked to a confit-like tenderness, topped with a layer of fresh, marinated anchovies, woven into perfect braid atop the fish. And lamb is seized as though the devil did it, sauced with a rich, original basil butter.

Service here is of the highest order, and the Relais & Chateaux group should be proud of the youthful, well-mannered staff. It must be a sign that I am getting old, but the fine female sommeliere did not look as though she was old enough to legally drink the wine she was pouring.

But I must thank her for introducing me to Henning Hoesch. s rich red Syrah, the 1996 Domaine Richeaume Côtes de Provence with appealing overtones of black and red currants.

And while I tend to agree more or less with the august Michelin travel guide on the their ratings, they are simply WRONG WRONG WRONG about their single star rating of La Bonne Etape. Over the years they have given stars and taken them away from the Gleize family for what I see as no justifiable reason.



La Bonne Etape
Chemin du lac
04160 Château-Arnoux-St Aubin.
Tel: 04 92 64 00 09.
Fax: 04 92 64 37 36.
Closed January 3 to February 12 and all day Monday, Tuesday at lunch from November to March. Credit cards: American Express, Diner. s Club, Visa. Menus at 310 and 540 francs. A la carte, 225 to 595 francs, including service but not wine.