Collin Flatt couldn’t be happier to welcome another bistro into the madness, but does it have the potential to win in a suddenly competitive French environment? Plenty more after the jump.
What Parc did right with its surroundings, La Minette does better. The details of the dining room at Starr’s bistro were spot on but contrived. Authenticity is reality at La Minette, not a movie set or soundstage.
Walking through the front doors places you in the middle of the bar/cafe area, which is so darling you need it on your mantle. The lack of segue into the dining room does not hinder the effectuality of either space, giving the appearance of bustling activity with few patrons. There’s a separate parlor room in the back for ‘French Country Dinners’ that you can arrange 24 hours in advance for up to 20 people. A grand idea.
There’s an intersting clash of French style going on, with obvious homage to countryside dining and finishing touches of modernism. The decor and structure reminds me of Provence, while the marble tables, velvet wallbench, and red aprons are definitely Parisian.
It’s a challenge to do French food properly. When you serve organ meat to the American populace, most of it cold, you better make it taste damn good. Francofood and drink are balanced to be enjoyed together, enhancing both experiences. Wine is a requirement. The ownership at La Minette realized this and offered free wine to all diners on Monday night. A wonderful gesture that paired well with most of the menu options. The food also finds itself in a culinary culture tug-of-war. Some platings lean towards the Avant-Garde, while others are strictly homestyle fare.
The Pâté De Campagne was sidesaddled with housemade brioche and a jar of cornichons. We’re seeing a lot of pâté in the city right now, and this one’s no slouch. The bread had enough heft to endure a splitting and spreading of the Terrine which crumbled across the knife, but was quickly lassoed in by the fatty bacon shell. Varied textures complimented each other quite well, with the sinew providing the glue keeping it all together. It’s a decadent and rich opening act that was in love with the bottle of Leoville Barton ‘04 I toted from my cellar.
The Salmon Tartare was presented round and vertical, layering each texture as a solo performer. The plating is a very distinct nod to the modernist movement and in sharp contrast to the country mellow from the pâté. A generous spill of blood orange vinaigrette provided an acidic foil to the fatty fish. The addition of Puy lentils created a snappy texture that dissipated after two bites, allowing the salmon some time to blend with the finish in your mouth. A small dollop of creme fraiche adorned the top of the lentils. Nice touch. The gratis white Burgundy was a solid match to every element of the dish, which was the best of the night.
My least favorite dish, and disappointingly so, was the Braised Rabbit. I found the mustard sauce to be a underwhelming and the edges of the protein quite dry. In contrast, the meat closest to the bone was a little juicier with wonderful game flavor, but none of the mustardy goodness made it’s way down that far. The tangled mess of Tagliatelle had a unique anise aromatic and was cooked very well as a thoughtful partner. Overall though, the dish needs some serious work.
The Gascony Lamb Shank was very good, but not perfect. As a whole, the meat was cooked very well and the sauce had a wonderfully rusty juice quality that was bigger than the linebacker-sized lump of flesh on my plate. Surrounded by slender pieces of al dente veggies, the presentation was very basic and beautiful. It’s bigness is the draw here, but also the detractor for me. The beast was difficult to cut after the first layer was removed, skidding around my plate and shooting vegetables across the table. Nothing like an intimidating piece of sheep’s flesh to scare off root vegetables. Maybe the solution here is a sharp steak knife and not a re-do on the plate. BYO knife, people.
For dessert, a nice Pot De Creme hit the spot with a perfectly formed whipped cream top that looked like it was carved by Michelangelo himself. Generous in portion and unique in design made the little dessert a big hit. The creme itself was so smooth and had a bold cappucino kick that almost beat up my big Bordeaux. The Freezer Gods decided to take the night off for the bistro, leaving this my only in-tact sweetfinish option. No matter, it was great. It should be noted that Chef Peter Woolsey was the pastry master at the now defunct Washington Square. Anything you get on this side of the menu will be great.
For an opening night, the service was solid and I had no complaints. Technically, a few of the dishes need some fine tuning (especially the rabbit, which should be a highlight) and I await the arrival of the Kubler Absinthe to the bar. Food is on the pricey side, but the portions are huge. Pick your poison. The bill was around $95 without tip.
Bottom line, the place has real potential: Good dish selection, a very affordable and QUALITY wine list, and a space that could be the coolest in town. Go there now while you can snag a seat, it probably won’t last for long.
– Collin Flatt
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