Meeting friends for lunch, I was looking forward to a good meal at La Gauloise, a long-running bistro in the 15th arrondissement where I’ve had some wonderful meals in the past. On a very warm day, they were sensibly tucked away in a shady corner of the large outdoor terrace in front of the restaurant when I arrived, and our first order of business was to order a bottle of Bandol rose, which is great summer drinking because it has a lot more character than most other modish roses.
Studying the 28 Euro lunch menu, I dipped a soggy cucumber stick in a little pot of herbed creme fraiche, and quietly noted that it had no taste at all, a warning signal as it turned out, since the meal that followed was dishearteningly mediocre at best. I started with a dish that could have been wonderful–pot au feu vegetables with a coddled egg and a sharp mustard sauce, while the others went with gaspacho they judged disappointing, and marinated herring, which I found well cooked but underseasoned. Meanwhile, if the accompanying egg was perfectly cooked runny, my vegetables had almost no taste whatsoever. Next up, steamed salmon (bland), chicken (dry), and, for two of us, boeuf bourguignon, a dish I crave whatever the weather.
Continue reading…