When pals not too long ago steered assembly for Sunday dinner at Le Petit Lutetia, I appeared ahead to going as a lot for his or her firm and a very good dose of nostalgia as the rest. For the eleven years I spent residing in two totally different Left Financial institution residences–one within the rue Monsieur, the second within the rue du Bac, I lived inside strolling distance of this good outdated neighborhood brasserie within the rue de Sevres.
I didn’t go fairly often, although, as a result of the meals was, because the French would say, correcte, or acceptable, however not often higher than that. They did have an oyster stand out entrance for a longtime, although, and the confit de canard (duck preserved in its personal fats after which grilled golden and crispy) was a very good meal on a chilly evening, particularly when it got here with duck-fat sautéed Sardalais potatoes with a generously sprinkling of chopped garlic and parsley.
The costs have been inexpensive, and it was good to know that it was there for these nights after I received residence late from work and had an empty fridge, or I simply wished a fast chew with a good friend with out leaving the neighborhood. The waiters in lengthy white aprons have been well mannered, and the art-nouveau eating room itself had good-looking stencilled tile flooring. Upfront and simply contained in the door, the bar was separated from the remainder of the house by beveled glass partions, the lighting was low and amber, and murky however fairly oil work framed in darkish molding on the partitions gave the place some character. To wit, Le Petit Lutetia was a helpful if unremarkable neighborhood place that simply ticked alongside uneventfully from one 12 months to the subsequent.
And like all neighborhood eating places, this was one with which I had a protracted skein of recollections, some blissful–a primary date that turned a second one in a short time, a tete a tete with a brand new good friend after a film on a wet evening, and others unhappy–a break-up dinner that didn’t final till dessert and a last excruciating meal with a visiting relative who shall stay unnamed after we’d simply spent 4 days collectively in Istanbul that had left my nerves fully macramed.
As we approached the restaurant the opposite evening, nevertheless, I used to be stunned to see a framed discover on a stanchion indicating that they now had a voiturier, or car-parking service. This struck me as odd, as a result of the general public who dined right here got here by foot.
Inside, the good older man with grey hair and steel-rimmed glasses who ran the eating room for a few years was no lengthy there, however this got here as no shock. My guess was that he’d retired, and I hope he’d was off someplace within the Pyrenees fishing for trout or in his residence wood-working store within the Limousin, or one thing like that. Apart from the absence of the oyster stand out entrance, nevertheless, nothing else appeared to have modified, though I did discover that the waiters have been a lot youthful than they’d as soon as been and likewise that the eating room was busier than I’d anticipated it may be on a wet evening.
As I slid in on the banquette, it was simply as broken-bottomed because it was after I final been right here, oh what, perhaps twelve years in the past. However then I seen patissier Pierre Herme sitting at a desk just a few down from us, and additional alongside, a well known decorator having a dinner with a good friend. So even earlier than I opened the menu, I knew one thing had modified right here, since Le Petit Lutetia was most positively not a spot to draw those that assiduously domesticate the general public eye again within the days after I was an occasional buyer.
And certainly one thing had modified: the menu, which was significantly costlier and likewise slightly extra attention-grabbing than it had as soon as been, with modish to boring dishes like smoked salmon with blinis and creme fraiche, crimson tuna tartare; a 28 Euros salad of lettuce, avocado and King Crab (the menu specifies, ‘beaucoup de crabe,’ mais quand-meme!), and, maybe as a sop to the well-bred and habitually parsimonious grandmothers who invite their grandchildren right here for dinner, a easy vegetable soup for 8 Euros.
Oh, effectively, what the hell, even it was absurdly costly, I really feel like some smoked salmon tonight, I assumed to myself, and after that, I’ll have the confit de canard for outdated instances’ sake. Bruno went all fish with the tuna tartare and grilled salmon, Carole sank for the soup after which smoked salmon (weight-reduction plan), and Laurent the tuna tartare after which the veal chop with mushrooms, a head-splitting 40 one thing Euros. Deputised to order the wine, I used to be twiddling with the record when our bearded waiter arrived, after which it struck me. In a flash, I used to be sure this place had been taken over by a number of of the Costes brothers. So I requested, and he appeared oddly reluctant to reply my query.
“Little or no has modified right here for the reason that new proprietor took over,” he stated, considerably evasively.
So I endured. Was Le Petit Lutetia now owned by a number of of the Costes brothers?
“Why do it’s essential to know?” he stated with a stiff smile.
“I’m a really curious form of man, that’s all, Sir,” I replied.
“M’oui, Jean-Louis Costes,” he stated and scurried away with out taking our wine order.
My coronary heart sank, as a result of I simply don’t do Costes eating places. For me, their model of restaurant protecting has accomplished severe harm to Paris by privileging ambiance and casting–each when it comes to dining-room personnel and clientele, i.e. solely the wealthy, well-known and/or stunning want apply, over good meals. And the snideness of the service at lots of the eating places they run–Georges on the highest of the Centre Pompidou, La Societe in Saint-Germain-des-Pres, L’Avenue on the Avenue Montaigne, and Le Cafe Marly on the Louvre, amongst different addresses, led me to swear them off a few years in the past.
Now I understood the sprinkling of recognisable faces within the eating room, the stratospheric costs, and the menu of meals for people who find themselves extra desirous about going to eating places for social causes than gastronomic ones. Oh, effectively, all I might do was hope for the perfect, which other than a earlier wound to the pockets, was kind of precisely what occurred.
My starter of smoked salmon was so generously served it might simply have been a major course–and so it ought to have been for the value, and its high quality was glorious. Bruno and Laurent beloved their tuna tartare–good plump chunks of fine high quality fish on a mattress of mashed avocado with somewhat cilantro and a little bit of chopped scallion, and regardless of its slightly unhappy pale army-green split-pea coloration, Carole was content material along with her soup.
After which our major programs arrived. Was this meals glorious or memorable? No, but it surely was right at a better degree of correctness than the outdated Le Petit Lutetia as soon as was, and when it comes to what this patch of the Left Financial institution has turn into right now, this appears to suffice for many of its purchasers, lots of whom seemed to be regulars.
However as I tucked into my confit de canard, I couldn’t assist however feeling wistful for the inhabitants of the outdated stables constructing on the head of the courtyard at 134 rue du Bac, my final Left Financial institution handle. On this odd-bod constructing, there was a middle-aged woman who was a gross sales girl at a luxurious boutique in Paris and the mistress of a married minister within the French cupboard, a slightly deranged American poetess who was no shyer about populating her mattress with keen and sure candidates evening after evening than I used to be, the widow of a French ambassador to an African nation who lived among the many assortment of arts and objects this life had yielded, a imply outdated drunk who labored for a financial institution on the bottom flooring, a pleasant and extremely proficient French-Argentine couple–he, an architect, she, an amazingly proficient painter, who lived throughout the corridor from me, and who cheated on one another in such epic ways in which they lastly flew aside, and, effectively, me. You see, this curious laundry bag of individuals was what as soon as made the Left Financial institution so fantastic. And it’s now just about gone, for the reason that identical city story has performed out right here that has performed out in different fantastic funky city neighbourhoods I as soon as inhabited, Earl’s Court docket in London and Greenwich Village in New York Metropolis. Why? Not one of the inhabitants of the flats within the outdated stables might afford to stay there right now, and the complexion of the neighbourhood has modified so totally, that lots of the well-heeled newcomers who’ve changed them would absolutely look down their noses at neighbours who don’t have the cash they do.
In order apparent as it might appear to say so, a ‘neighborhood’ restaurant will all the time be a mirrored image of who lives there, and because the nice threshing out of the Western world’s main cities continues and even accelerates, locations just like the Le Petit Lutetia I as soon as knew, or a flock of unusual West Village eating places with straggly spider crops of their home windows and higher than respectable cheeseburgers and meatloaf to accompany actually well-made Martinis have vanished for ever. Alas. However Bruno’s marinated salmon (soy sauce, mirin, and many others.) was excellent, as was Laurent’s cote de veau. And I favored my confit de canard, which was simply tremendous, however happy me greater than the rest as a result of it’s a dish you so not often see on a restaurant menus in Paris anymore. That stated, the potato garnish was heat-lamp dried out and never solely missing the duck fats that will have given them taste however the coarse hash of uncooked garlic and parsley that has all the time titillated me, a garlic fiend from delivery.
Carole completed up with an Ile Fottante, however the gents abstained from dessert, as a result of we have been effectively fed and quietly cautious of the invoice. As we sipped our post-prandial coffees, I discovered myself questioning, would I come again right here once more. Effectively, not as a vacation spot restaurant, however forewarned that it could be thumpingly costly and keen to point out some visiting jet-lagged pals what Paris is all about, sure, I’d come again. However with these circumstances occurring slightly not often, and so lots of my visiting pals clearly arriving on a quest for severely good and attention-grabbing meals, I slightly doubt that my face will grace this door once more for an additional ten years or so.
Earlier than heading residence, I headed for the lads’s room, the place the glazed ceramic plaque of somewhat hobo made me suppose that the final time I’d been right here was yesterday.
107 rue de Sèvres, sixth Arrondissement, Tel. (33) 01-45-48-33-53. Metro: Vaneau or Duroc, Common 60-90 € Open day by day from midday to midnight.
