Paris or bust
Bistro de la Gare is a substitute marvelieux!
By Erica Wayne 06/03/2010
So, here’s the deal. We’re on our way to Paris. Or, maybe not. There’s the damn volcano to deal with. As a matter of fact, the friends we’re supposed to meet in Calais were visiting us about two weeks ago and it was touch and go whether they’d be able to get home to Scotland in time to water plants, pick up newspapers, check to see what changes their new government had wrought in their absence and get in their car to chunnel over and pick us up after our engineering conference.
Then, adding even more angst to the trip, our connecting British Air flight to Paris from Heathrow has been in danger of cancellation due to an on, then off, then on-again strike. As of my last obsessive check, ours is one of the “every other” flights still scheduled to take off as planned. However, as my ol’ Ma used to say, airlines fly and lie. A wise woman, my ol’ Ma! Don’t get me started about United, the airline we’ve been in thrall of for decades. Suffice it to say, there are good reasons that Capital One cards with a kitty on a laptop — sooooo cute — have replaced our old Mileage Plus Visas.
So, right now we’re trying to be optimistic and get ourselves in the mood for the City of Lights, even though we found out that our so-called Paris conference is actually being held in Euro-Disney. Can you believe it? Engineers in Fantasyland? Well, actually, gauging by my husband’s mental machinations, that’s where they usually hang out. So Euro-Disney it is. Hubby’s picking up an international graduate teaching award. I’m along to make sure the mimes don’t get him. I’m having nightmares that Mickey will be presenting the plaque.
Anyhow, in the midst of incipient crisis, we’ve been attempting a little pre-voyage lifting of spirits. What could be better for that than a pre-prandial stroll through the South Pasadena Thursday evening Farmers Market and an authentic French meal at Bistro de la Gare? At least that’s probably a lot closer than anything we’re likely to get at the Magic Kingdom, should we actually make it there.
The restaurant is right in the heart of the market, at the corner of Meridian Avenue and El Centro Street, near neighbor to Nicole’s, another authentic French establishment with the most wonderful cheeses and wines … but I digress.
So my soon-to-be award-winning mate and I strolled arm in arm, breathing in the warm night air and the wafting siren-scents of toasted nuts, cotton candy, roasted corn and other readily edible items proffered by vendors and, then, the even more heavenly odors of vine-ripened apricots, strawberries and peaches. Like Proust’s madeleines, they brought back memories of bygone student days (nights, actually) exploring Les Halles, back when it actually was the central market of Paris.
By the time we arrived at Bistro de la Gare, we were primed for onion soup, the traditional Les Halles midnight supper dish. And it didn’t disappoint. “Gratinee a l’oignon” ($6.95), topped with gooey Gruyere, is sweet, rich and not nearly as salty as the pale imitations served in most American restaurants. A “plateau de charcuterie” ($10.50) was perfect for two to share. It comes with three kinds of sausage, generous hunks of smooth- and rough-textured pates, cornichons, pickled onions and a palate-cleansing topping of lightly dressed greens.
Our main courses were “steak-frites” ($15.50) and Mediterranean sea bass in a vanilla/citron sauce ($22). The slab of top sirloin, topped with a pat of garlic butter and, despite its width, dwarfed by the small mountain of crunchy shoestring potatoes, came medium-rare as ordered. The fish was delightful, crisply pan-fried, its sauce aromatic and far from subtle. It was accompanied by a nondescript scoop of mashed potatoes (might I suggest lyonnaise?), a broiled crumb-topped cherry tomato and some sautéed zucchini and carrots. Very pretty!
We glanced at the dessert list, which included all my favorites: crème brulee, crème caramel, warm apple tart, profiteroles and mousse au chocolat ($5.95-$6.95). How we resisted, I’ll never know. Perhaps the charcuterie? Perchance the frites? More likely the bread and butter basket, which kept being refilled without our asking. Oh well, presuming our return flight isn’t downed by ash or people trying to set their underpants on fire, we’ll surely have another chance to sample Bistro de la Gare’s desserts.
Although the wine list includes a number of tempting vintages by glass or bottle, we decided on beer, starting with bottles of Fischer (Alsatian) Amber and Blonde and finishing up with Belgian Stella d’Artois. The food definitely prepared us for the first stop on our itinerary. But after the conference, our Scottish friends and we will be exploring Belgium and Holland, looking forward to some major beer tasting as we motor through the Lowlands.
We hated to say adieu. Leaving the warmth of the charming Bistro de la Gare, with its heavily carved dark wood bar, Victorian chandeliers and sconces, carnelian walls, French art nouveau posters, happily chatting diners (and sadly singing Piaf) was difficult. But there was one wonderful thing we knew for sure after our dinner; if Ejafjallajokull reawakens from its newly dormant state, we can always cancel our trip and enjoy an authentic Parisian mini-vacation right in South Pasadena.
DIGG | del.icio.us | REDDIT
"We hated to say adieu."
That's because you should have said "au revoir."
Next time, it would be nice to hear a little more about the actual restaurant you are reviewing.