Scary Movie Night

Every October, I strive to throw a small dinner party, involving a culinary theme and "scary" movies (old school horror, no gore). My French theme this year was a challenge; part of my personal culinary objective is to make everything in finger-food version so it can be consumed while watching the movie. With tremendous gratitude to Clothilde at Chocolate and Zucchini (http://www.chocolateandzucchini.com/), I was able to come up with attempted variations on French classics. Pictured above are mini-tartlets with goat cheese, quince, and pine nuts (Clothilde favors "brousse," or fresh cheese, with quince, no pine nuts). This easy recipe is available on her site and I ordered a square mini-tartlet pan from Fante's, which has an amazing selection of any baking pan you could imagine. I also used Clothilde's "Terrine de Viande a la Ricotta" recipe and made this veal, pork and cheese terrine that was mild but satisfying. Think I should have upped the herb content. I added chervil, sage, thyme and Italian parsley, but think I somehow missed the mark.Thanks also go out to Martha Stewart who, in her hors d'oeuvres book, suggested the following cheeses for a French cheese plate:
I loved the strong earthy taste of the Morbier, was sucked into the alternating consistency of goat cheese and brie of the Bucheron, and thought the Pave d'Affinois was what the combination of butter and cheese should taste like. Pretty amazing.

The surprise hit of the evening were the gougeres (French cheese puffs), consumed so quickly I failed to get a picture. I followed Ruth Reichl's recipe (love her and the chapter of Garlic and Sapphires that precedes the recipe) and amazingly, that combination of butter, flour and gruyere melted together held some appeal. It did go wonderfully with champagne cocktails.

I attempted boeuf bourguignon in small roasted red potatoes and coq au vin in mushrooms. The reason you may have never heard of such ambitious appetizers is that they really don't work. Stews should be consumed in shallow bowls, not bite-size portions. Oh and coq au vin? Not the appetizing red color pictured in the Julia Child book, but more a purple-grey-ish. Let's just call it camera shy and leave it at that. (Both tasty, however, once I transferred them to larger bowls for unfettered enjoyment).

I stayed away from dessert and let my far more talented friends like MCRF bring peanut bars and brownies -- the perfect munchies for the second movie.

Bibou

Occasionally swayed by the trends of popular culture, I saw Julie and Julia, renewed my interest in Julia Child, and planned a trip to France. I think it would be safe to declare that this fall, French food is back.

Bibou seems to be leading the pack of this renewed interest, thanks to favorable press (including New York Times coverage) and an outstanding pedigree. Housed in Pif's former digs (where I did, on one night long ago, enjoy frog's legs prepared by David Ansill), Bibou's Chef Pierre Calmels, formerly of Le Bec Fin, and his wife Charlotte preside over the tiny dining room and kitchen.

By preside, I should clarify that the clientele Bibou draws is, for lack of a better descriptor, my parents. It seemed that everyone else in the tiny space were repeat visitors, all in their mid-60s, all very interested in the food, being there, and talking to the Chef and his wife. I confess I felt out of place.

Which is not to say the food wasn't delicious. It did make me think twice, however, when the service felt rather rushed with one dish brought on the heels of another, we were chided for not bringing wine, and not offered the tasting menu as the party next to us was. Chef Calmels did greet us, though, prompting my fame-induced shyness, speaking French and English in a charming, genuine way. I stuck with the more classical French dishes, ordering the pig's head terrine, which the Chef explained to me was fresh. He had purchased it yesterday, cooked the head overnight and then made the terrine that morning. Its flavors were indeed fresh, rich and exquisite, as was the accompanying fresh mayonnaise. I was obligated to try the foie gras, served that evening with peaches (or was it pears...) and a sweet ginger bread that was as fantastic as you can imagine, with a silky smooth rich texture and sweet offset.MCRF ordered the mahi mahi, happily perched on a bed of sauteed vegetables garnished with a rich unobstrusive foam.The desserts were lovely, once our server sorted through that the apple pie was actually the tarte aux pommes and the pie of the day was a separate offering (again making us wonder how we got this server, over others that appeared more competent). The limoncello ice cream was amazing, however, served with said tarte aux pommes, as was the chocolate cake. Most touching, however, were the tiny madelines, served hot.They helped make up for a wrinkle at the end of the meal when our server seemed inconvenienced to bring us ones as part of our change, making me feel awkward despite my leaving a 20% tip.

In short, Bibou offers delicious food in a cozy 32-seat rowhouse patronized by a very specific clientele, to whom they appear to devote much attention. If you can get past the second point, the first presents a great dinner.

Bibou is located at 1009 S. 8th Street, Philadelphia, adjacent to a parking lot, www.biboubyob.com.

Village Whiskey

Village Whiskey is predictable, although I'm not sure that's a bad thing. Jose Garces, the chef who brought you Amada and Tinto, has opened the small sliver of a bar adjacent to Tinto on 20th Street. I hope the presence of these restaurants and Capogiro serve to reinvigorate this sad stretch of 20th Street, thereby making the outdoor seating a little more pleasant.

In any case, VW is covered in white tile, making the din nearly unbearable. After several whiskey cocktails, however, it may matter a little less. I sampled the "De Rigueur," featuring rye, aperol, grapefruit, lemon, honey and mint, I was told it was a cousin of the mint julep. I would highly recommend it with its perfect blend of sweetness and rye. VW's Old Fashioned packs a whallop and I would describe my friend's "Modern," with scotch, sloe gin, herbsaint, and orange bitters, as the kind of drink you earn after a particularly bad day.

Which is of course the backdrop against which I ordered the "Whiskey King" burger -- maple-glazed cippolini, rogue bleu cheese, applewood bacon and foie gras on top of 10 oz of beef, for $24. I had previously thought the combination of foie gras and red meat was reserved for the decadent and gluttonous. Still true, but wow -- sign me up. The burger was fantastic. The brioche-style sesame bun absorbed the flavor of the burger and added to the medley perfectly. I showed a little restraint in not ordering the duck fat fries at $5 for a very small, cute silver cup of fries. I would imagine they are equally good. You can also buy a scaled back burger with thousand island dressing for $9.

VW offers predictably high priced cocktails ($11-12), a very long whiskey menu, and an interesting bar menu with oyster options and fun things like deviled eggs and pickled veggies. Once you get past the rather strict hostess who behaved as though the fire code was her prime directive (whatever you do, don't try to stand near the bar), the service was exceptional, friendly without being intrusive. The noise level may keep me away, however.

Village Whiskey is located next to Tinto at the corner of 20th and Sansom, http://www.villagewhiskey.com/. Foobooz offers a much better photo of the Whiskey King burger at http://foobooz.com/tag/village-whiskey/, with props to the BrewBrog blog.

Creperie Beau Monde

As you can imagine, I wanted to see Julie and Julia. Sure, I had read the book, the blog, My Life in France, and have an actual autographed copy of The Way To Cook (thanks, Dad). I was there. I was also fully prepared to be craving French food after seeing the movie. Enter Beau Monde.

Beau Monde is like an old friend. Offering consistently delicious crepes, both savory and sweet, combined with sparkling cider in a cozy yet chic environment, it's simply lovely. It's also an inexpensive option for French food, offering crepes ranging in price from $6 to $18.

Upon admiration of the paneling, we're told that it is handpainted on gold leaf, reinforcing my thought that the best food is the product of love and effort. Of course, talent never hurts either, as evidenced here.

As much as I love Julie Powell, the movie didn't do her storyline justice, but it did pay homage to Boeuf Bourguignon. Lucky for us it's on the menu, wrapped in a buckwheat crepe. It may be too warm yet to love this, but I loved it. The flavors were there and hearty. Carol went for the coq au vin. Although enjoyable, the wine didn't fully permeate the chicken, but did overpower the taste.
Final kudos go to Carol. While I chose a simple dessert crepe with lemon butter pictured above, she designed her own. Fresh from a trip to Argentina, Carol went for the Dulce de Leche crepe, opting to add a scoop of hazelnut ice cream (I mean really, what doesn't go well with hazelnut ice cream?) and drizzle with chocolate sauce. I don't think anything I can write will adequately describe the level of decadence and taste associated with this concoction.It was as good as it looks, as was the meal. After reading the books, seeing the movie, eating the food, and a few glasses of wine, a trip to Paris was planned. Beau Monde is just that sort of place.

Creperie Beau Monde is located at 624 S. 6th Street, Philadelphia, Pa., 215-592-0656.

Restaurant Week Rant

One of the many reasons I love Philadelphia is its affordable restaurant scene. Where else can you get an interesting, well-executed meal for under $30, with appetizer? From gastropubs to BYOs, these kinds of meals are readily available. Which is why charging $35 to order off of a different, limited menu for three courses (did you really want the cheesecake dessert, too?) strikes me as a little silly. This year's publicized commercial sponsorship by TD Bank is plainly odd. From a public relations perspective, I get it, to a point. But why not move the price point down?

Le Bec Fin

What is fine dining? What makes a restaurant great? Why does Philadelphia Magazine rate restaurants the way they do? I had not been prepared to think about these questions, much less discuss them, at Le Bec Fin, arguably Philadelphia's finest French restaurant. I was too busy being thrilled that I was called off the wait list for the promotion Le Bec is running, where, after being prepared a tasting menu, diners can choose to pay whatever amount they wish.

I was also unprepared for this discussion to happen with none other than Georges Perrier himself, Le Bec Fin's famous chef and owner. After we were seated at the 20-person communal table and introduced ourselves, I noted that the chef himself had quietly ascended the stairs, stopping to quietly size up the diners. When one of the more voluptuous college students at the table glanced over and greeted the chef, he proceeded up and pulled up a chair. Going around the table, he complimented the women on their beauty, the men for being with such beautiful women, and asked why we were here, all the while appearing genuinely interested in our responses. Entirely starstruck, I managed to mumble something about my friend having told me about the promotion. Said friend, on the other hand, had the presence of mind to say that Le Bec Fin was the best restaurant in town. Perrier was pleased to hear this, in a way that seemed both charming and sincere.

With a mischievous grin, Perrier explained that the promotional dinner was a bit of a gamble, one that hadn't always paid off in the last few days, but one that he clearly was enjoying. He talked some more, explaining his philosophy that food should be fun and mean something more than itself, more social, more celebratory. He wanted to attract a younger crowd, to redefine fine dining. I couldn't help but think of how vaguely intimidating it was to walk through the restaurant downstairs and wondered if it could attract an under-30 crowd who were not planning on proposing to their dates. I hoped so. Perrier's words, delivered with his alluring French accent and even-handed cadence, tantalized, suggesting anything was possible.

Telling you how wonderful the service and food were might be superfluous to explain what I took from the evening. It's worth a pause to say that, in line with Perrier's own explanation, the food was avant-garde and, in line with my expectations, cooked to perfection. Of particular note was a chilled English pea soup with a savory almond ice cream. The table collectively agreed that even among those of us who detest peas (myself among them), this was extraordinary and delicious, personifying summer. On the heels of an amuse bouche of roasted beet with citrus jelly, the soup showcased fresh, seasonal ingredients.

The next appetizer was a favorite of the table. A grilled scallop perched upon a charred tomato puree, adorned by pickled cauliflower and arugula. Again, the scallop and cauliflower naysayers in the group collectively agreed it was amazing. I began to appreciate the marriage between a traditionally cooked protein with, not a rich cream sauce, but an equally complex blend of fresh ingredients.

The scallop was followed by poached salmon with caramelized fennel and black olives, topped with garlic scape with a garlic cashew sauce. While the caramelized fennel was sublime and the salmon done to perfection, the garlic cashew sauce lacked the flavor punch for which I had hoped. The next course, roasted pork over a duo of a corn puree and barbecue (yes, barbecue) sauce was served with the intriguing pluot fruit, a hybrid of plum and apricot and a perfect foil to the pork.

What transpired among the diners was equally engrossing. We talked to each other -- figured out connections among strangers, points of interest, backgrounds. Of 12 diners there that night, 7 were college students who had responded to a campus list serve advertising the promotion. Two were a couple who had dined at Le Bec Fin nearly 15 years ago. And the remaining three comprised my party. We were seated in a sort of jigsaw puzzle, forcing conversation with strangers. We discovered who traveled to the same countries, who went to school together. We laughed at unexpected jokes and anecdotes.

By the time dessert was served, we were all in a good mood, happily full. And dessert was incomparably seductive -- a cherry clafouti with caramel chocolate ice cream. Assorted chocolates and petite madelines appeared on trays before us. I could not have been happier -- and then Chef Perrier appeared again. That's when things got interesting.

I'm not sure how it all happened, how over the next 30 to 45 minutes, Georges Perrier came to share with us his views on such wide-ranging topics from how wonderful his mother was (a great cook and renaissance woman) to how his daughter agreed with the table's sentiments that he should appear on Top Chef to, most vociferously and lengthily, his affront at Le Bec Fin's being ranked number 48 of 50 restaurants by Philadelphia Magazine. (To which I responded, how can you take a magazine seriously that ranks Zahav as No. 1, but Perrier emphasized to me the power of the press). I also was able to tease out that Perrier likes pizza like the rest of us, although he does cook at home. An avid gardener, he appreciates his wife's cooking, too. I'm not sure at what point I realized Perrier had charisma on par with his celebrity status or how extraordinary it was to have this conversation, but I felt lucky. And I was having fun.

Back to fine dining, great restaurants, and Philadelphia Magazine. I have since reflected upon the evening itself as quintessential fine dining -- an experience that celebrates fresh ingredients, perfect preparations and good company without regard to whether the price is high. While grateful that Perrier has resisted some of the Disney-level themes other Philadelphia restaurateurs have embraced, I remain worried that the tenor of Le Bec Fin is a bit stuffy, as though walking through, you might break something. The service, however, eschews elitism in favor of quiet assistance in a way that only a fine restaurant can offer. A restaurant is made great through its heart, the combination of personalities, service and food that is cohesive and consistently good while keeping up with changing palates. And I don't know why Philadelphia Magazine rates restaurants the way they do, why they focus on holding the hands of mainline suburbanites over city dwellers, or why their failure to celebrate a city's culinary landmark in favor of trendy spots is somehow acceptable. I actually don't much care on that last point, since I had an evening with the first two points.

And because I know you want to know, the majority of the college students paid $35 for their meals and I elected to pay $75 with a generous tip. Frankly, I would have paid a lot more for such undivided time with a legendary chef. But that was part of the magic, really, that money had been taken out of the equation. Conversely, the promotion "worked" on me; I would likely return to Le Bec Fin and pay menu prices to enjoy this experience again. Kudos, Chef Perrier.

Le Bec Fin is located at 1523 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa, http://www.lebecfin.com/. The promotion continues through August and while fully committed, the restaurant will accept names for a wait list. The promotion is also BYO.

Crepemaker

Who knew 30th Street Station had a creperie? With the advent of the Cira Center and accompanying businesses, the restaurant selection at Philadelphia's train station expanded beyond McDonald's to Cosi and even a decent pub. On my way to New York last week, I made my usual rounds and discovered the addition of the Crepemaker. Perfect crepe batter, but the fillings are less gruyere with caramelized leeks and more IHOP omelette fillings. Although I went for a breakfast selection (egg and cheese, tell them to go light on the cheese), I'm going to guess the dessert crepes can't be bad. And this happy chef (pictured left) seemed genuinely pleased as families gathered to watch him make my crepe. Good customer service in Philly serving fast-French-food? Sign me up.

The Crepemaker is located in 30th Street Station, near the South entrance.