Michelin Guide Paris 2010

No comment this time around. As my friend Alex Cammas says, "Who cares about the Michelin".

Much Meandering about Meat - Charbon Rouge

I've spoken a lot about meat on this blog- covering the best and the worst in Paris, and another steakhouse opening isn't usually on my top list of priorities. Recent ventures such as Meating (dumb name, strange concept- ie. American meats broiled in a broiler brought at tremendous expense from the US..) have left me a bit luke warm. In fact, there is so much good meat in Paris restaurants, if you know where to look for it, that a new table (Charbon Rouge) purporting Argentinian, US and Kiwi meat cooked over hot coals on the touristy rue Marbeuf , didn't really hold much interest for me. My friend Greg, former George V bar pro and all around rock star and nice guy runs it and has been begging me to test, and I trust his opinion. So, after a few drunken textos to him (home watching a football match, on a rare day off), I got my late resa, and slouched around the corner to test. No expense has been spared in this modern, two floor carnivore temple, and it was pretty well packed with locals and fashionable jet setters, and the place is all the more strange , being situated between two of the most well meat restaurants in the city, Le Relais de l'Entrecote and Maison de l'Aubrac. There's not much to say except that they serve perfect renditions of dishes such as a luxurious , almost creamy ceviche and an Argentinian entrecote that blew my mind, with a tasty little chimichurri sauce and crispy fries, making for a perfect, filling, natural and hearty meal after a soirée plus qu'un peu arrosé!

Royal Gin Fizz at Le Forvm- the cocktail world's answer to Cialis?

Taste of the week - Sliders at Px Cocktail Club

For those of you who don't know (ie French people), a "slider" is a tiny hamburger popular in coolio bars in gentrifying 'hoods all over the US, and until now haven't hit Paris.

Last night at the Prescription Cocktail Club:  Yves Marie Le Bourdonnec, 40 day aged meat patties, vieux compté, onions and truffled mayonnaise on Poujauran mini hamburger rolls.

No pix, you should be salivating by now.

Anahi - not for me

One thing that really irks me is a so called trendy restaurant that's crawled its way up from the primeval sludge, and made its way into all the guides and magazines, the collective dining public's mind, and somehow, despite the fact that they were famous pretty much only in the 80's, because Jean Paul Gauthier went there once or twice, and because during fashion week it's filled with noisy, stupidly dressed American fashion press people , they still retain some sort of authenticity.

It went like this: It was Saturday night and I had no idea where to go, but a strange hankering for Argentinian meat or ceviche. I called Anahi: "We've only got space in the back room" (ie for the little people). Ok fine. I'm hungry. We arrive. Restaurant empty. We are relegated to the back room while the Argentine lady owning roams around the front room, preening herself for the real guests (who, by the way, take two hours to come).

The first round comes: decent, although tiny empanadas , guacamole, a little too smooth (think baby food) and lacking a bit of spice, but with great homemade bread, decent ceviche . We order our meats, told it comes with green salad. Everything comes with polenta instead.

"Can we have the green salads we were promised?" I say to Argentinian owner lady and fashion ambassador. "No it comes with polenta". Me: "We were told it comes with green salad". Her: "You'd like extra green salad". Me:"No, I'd like what we were promised, green salad". Her: "OK, sorry for the waiter , he never works in the restaurant, only on Thursdays". Okkkk......The kicker was when she took away a small bottle of Pago juice (20cl=8€!! , 85 cents in the local Monoprix!) that was only half empty, and spirited it away to the kitchen. When told , she said sorry, disappeared into the kitchen again, and was seen bending down to get the juice bottle - yes yes yes , at just about poubelle height. I could go on and on: the basil/tomato sauce on the brochettes was forgotten, no sugar offered with coffee, etc etc

I was fortunate my company was so charming.