65th Birthday in France

Haven't written anything here in a long long time.  But it's a nice occasion, in Paris for my 65th birthday with Carol, all three kids, our new son-in-law Rick and Lena's boyfriend Mark, plus my lifelong (since first grade) best friend Harry.

Not sure if I plan to start blogging about life in France again, but I am motivated in the short term just by a desire to keep track of what we eat here, and that is a good piece of what we do. So unless French food is of interest to you, this blog probably won't be.

So anyway, last night we ate at an old standard for us, Bistrot Balhara, nearby in the 7eme.  It is tiny, maybe a dozen tables. The chef is Basquaise. The maitre d'hotel (and actually the only waiter) is a guy who has been there forever, with a typical jokey-French bistrot personality. He is great, but you see complaints about him on tripadvisor sometimes-- he talks a lot, and needles you a little, expecting you to joke back.  He makes a little fun of my French, but it's cool because he is always willing to actually speak French with me. What I can't take is switching into English. Harry says he is like a New York deli waiter, and that's pretty close to it. People expect French waiters to be aloof and formal, but unless you go up a price notch or two, they generally aren't. They are serious about what they do-- they can always answer a question about the food or wine-- but they see their job as putting you at ease, and joking around is part of the act.

Anyway, as soon as we sat down he suggested their four course discovery formula, which was a little more expensive than what we might have done off the menu, but with all eight of us it seemed like a good idea. This kind of menu is chef's choice, which I love, but Harry is a little less omnivore than the rest of us, which can be difficult with a no-choice menu. But the waiter was super nice about saying no problem, just let me know what you don't like and we will work around it.  Harry was willing to give it a try. Duck and shellfish, it was explained, and they seamlessly altered the dishes as necessary, though each one then came with jokes about "extra canard" pour monsieur.

OK, here goes..., the whole idea here is to get the menu down, so here goes.

Thee amuse-bouche was a spread of mixed pork and duck fat, which was just as good as it sounds. Not sure what it was called, a rillette, I guess.

Next was a velouté of lentils, with pieces of wild duck (Harry got a substitute!) and chopped toasted hazelnuts.  Really great, in some ways a highlight of the meal. 

The main course was a cocotte (a little cast iron French oven, four for the table) with confit de cochon in a dark reduction.  We each had a plate with green cabbage, pureed cauliflower, a thick slice of bacon and sunflower seeds. You spooned the pork and sauce over the top.

Then plates of shaved brebis (sheep's milk) cheese, arranged in little pyramids, with house-made black cherry jam. As usual, getting close to the edge appetite-wise. I joked that dessert was going to be rice pudding, which is what always pushes me over the edge, and I was right, except that it was rick pudding underneath a scoop of homemade chocolate ice cream. Super-dark bitter chocolate truffles came with the check. 

Two bottles of beaujolais, and the whole thing was around $60/person, tax and (small French) tip included.  Good food is cheaper in Paris than in Charlottesville these days.

There are some other things I should mention. Our arrival lunch at La Blanche Hermine, the little creperie next to our apartment. I think you can find something about that back in the blog somewhere.  Drinks before dinner at Le Petit Cler, a nice little café on rue Cler, where the kids are staying. Our usual "brunch" at home of cheese, bread and pastry.

Good Willy Ronis show at the mairie of the 20eme, though it was insanely crowded. The 20eme is great these days, lively and safe, but still unreconstructed, with many of the old tabacs and such still in their old pre-hipster state.