Doesn't TaZte Like Chicken

Location: Les Faux Bourgeois   
663 East 15th Ave, Vancouver BC
Phone: 604.873.9733
Website

Author: My Husband

I have often lamented to Christina, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we can get reasonably priced prix-fixe meals at French restaurants in Vancouver?” Walking around the streets of Paris, it is easy to spot eateries offering three-courses starting from as little as 25€, but it has been well nigh impossible to find such deals (in CAD) in Vancouver. This is, of course, quite curious because the cost of doing business in Paris is certainly no less than that in Vancouver. Though I do not have visibility into the costs/revenue breakdown of the local restaurant business, I nevertheless hope the day will come when local restaurateurs are able to offer values as compelling as those offered by their Parisian counterparts.

Recently, there has been a trend for restaurant owners to open their new places in Vancouver’s east side. With lower overall operating costs, increasing gentrification, and an underserved market, it makes perfect sense for the likes of Crave, Splitz Grill, and Les Faux Bourgeois to locate there. We first learnt about Les Faux Bourgeois some time ago; the sheer volume of accolades it has received convinced us that we should move it to the top of our dine out LIST. We finally went on a cold rainy Friday evening, right after I stepped off a flight from snow-ravaged Calgary and was wanting of some comfort food.

Les Faux Bourgeois is located in yellow shophouse on the west side of Fraser Street. From the outside, aside from the color, it looked pretty non-descript. We walked into an already hopping restaurant and were shown to a nicely sized two-top in the middle of the room. The space isn’t large, but we weren’t squeezed up against other patrons. The atmosphere is pretty casual and the din of conversation meant there is always a lively buzz in the air; we thought the place was as suitable for bringing a date as it was for having dinner with some good friends. There dining room was taken care of by several personable francophone waitstaff, and we received some very friendly and prompt service.

I ordered escargots to start, while Christina chose the onion soup.

Surprisingly, the escargots were gritty, a little chewy, and quite tasteless. It was a bit of a disappointment, but it was the only letdown that evening.

The onion soup was some of the best we’d tasted. Rich and hearty, it was the perfect prescription for the cold weather outside.

I followed up with a duck confit that was tres fantastique. The duck leg was served on a bed of frisee and accompanied by long beans and potatoes. The tender, flaky duck went really well with the reduced sauce that was made with balsamico and liver. Very rich and nicely done.

Christina had a flavorful grilled filet mignon that was served with blanched veggies and potato gratin. The meat was cooked to perfection and very tender. The pototo gratin was very tasty – almost as good as the version served as La Regalade.

And at a bistro, how could we not order the frites? The serving size was extremely generous and the fries tasted great. True to its French focus, the restaurant served these with mayo rather than ketchup.

The wine selection at LFB wasn’t very extensive, but they were priced very well. Markup was approximately 100% over retail, which for a Vancouver restaurant is pretty reasonable. We didn’t order any wine, but I did get a mojito; the LFB bartender wasn’t shy with the mint or rum, and the drink turned out exactly the way I like.

Except for the snails, we couldn’t find much fault with the food. Service was friendly and prompt. The value was also pretty compelling – for two courses each plus a side of fries, the bill averaged out to ~$27 per person before tax and tips. Andreas, one half of the duo who runs LFB, used to work for Gord Martin (of Bin 941/942 fame) and it is pretty apparent he has managed to bring a bit of Gord’s magic touch to his new place. For those of our Vancouver readers who like bistro fare, make a beeline for this place. You won’t regret it.

Location: Paris
Writer: my husband

Business travel is a mixed bag at best. While the notion of traveling to far flung places to ply one’s trade may seem exciting, reality is often a lot more mundane. Do it often enough, and the experiences blend into a long drawn out blur of airplanes, hotels, and boardrooms. Occasionally though, the monotony is broken up by something different…

Five days of consulting in Paris. That’s different. Finally, a client based in a city that I actually looked forward to visiting.

The AC flight over was unremarkable. Biz class food was unappetizing as usual (it takes some talent to make the food so consistently bad methinks), but at least I got the lie-flat bed. Got off the plane, spent the entire day with the client, and headed to my hotel in La Defense. As I was more interested in sleep than cuisine that evening, I chose to have a quick dinner at the hotel.

I usually avoid hotel restaurants on principle; often times, the quality of the food is never commensurate with the cost. Unremarkable quality for high prices seems to be the norm. But perhaps things are different at this hotel? This was France after all… I had foie gras to start, followed by a tenderloin of pork. The foie was beautiful. It was rich, sweet, and earthy with no veins or grit to spoil the texture. Maybe things *were* different at this hotel. With expectations raised by the foie, I dug into my main course with gusto. Very tough, very dry, very…bad. They should have called it the un-tenderloin of pork. My faith in hotel restaurants suitably restored, I skipped dessert and went off to bed.

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[rant on] What is it with French hotel bathroom design? Instead of a shower curtain or a full-enclosure, they have this little pane of glass atop the bathtub that doesn’t seem to serve any useful purpose. Keeping the bathroom floor dry while showering isn’t humanly possible. It wasn’t just this hotel (Renaissance Paris) – the Le Grand Intercontinental we stayed at on a previous trip had the exact same setup. Unbelievable. [rant off]

A subsequent evening saw good weather and found me making my way down the Champs Elysee to discover a place for dinner. Perhaps the food scene in the less-touristy 6eme would have been better, but it is difficult to resist the lure of walking down this famous boulevard. A quick shot of where I started my walk that evening.

Along the way, I popped into the MB showroom for a quick look. They had an interesting car on display – only 1000 of these Mercedes McLaren SLR convertibles will ever be made.

There were many restaurants along the Champs Elysee, all offering similar menu items and prices. So I used the time-tested trick of choosing the place with the most people in it. This led me to l’Alsace (http://www.restaurantalsace.com/en/index.htm). Most of the customers waiting for tables were tourists, so I knew to temper my expectations with respect to the “Frenchness” of the food.

My meal for the evening: onion soup and steak frites. I toyed with the idea of ordering the infamous French Andouillette, but better judgement prevailed. The best thing about the soup was the gruyere. Otherwise, my wife makes a better version. The steak was flavorful; a little chewy, but nothing like the un-tenderloin of pork. The double-fried frites were fantastic. For the price, they should be.

I enjoyed that evening’s wine very much. A 2001 Chateau Bel Orme. Full-bodied with lots of blackfruit, notes of chocolate, and well-controlled tannins. Great accompaniment for the beef. The ½ bottle I ordered disappeared all too quickly, and I was tempted to order another. But the thought of being inebriated in a city where (i) the lingua fraca is not my native language and (ii) I would have to make my own way back to the hotel gave pause to that idea. I did like it enough, however, to search it out and buy a couple of bottles when I got home.

Another evening saw me crossing the Seine to visit le Cathedrale Notre Dame. I got off the train at Les Halles and made my way towards the river. Over the years, Les Halles has had the dubious distinction of being Paris’ drug central, but I saw no evidence of such that evening. What I did see were hole-in-the-wall eateries selling crepes (which I happily enjoyed as a pre-dinner treat. Nutella & banana…mmmm…), donairs, falafels, and a variety of snack foods. As I walked towards the Seine, there came a sudden crack of thunder, and fat droplets of cold rain started to fall. Great. The rain started coming down in sheets, and I walked faster, hoping to find some shelter. As I rounded the corner of St. Eustache church, I happened upon the bright, blazing spotlights of… Au Pied de Cochon! What luck! Shelter and dinner!! Suffice it to say, I didn’t wait for an invitation…

It was a busy night, with the wait staff working at a pace that bordered on frenetic. There seemed to be a healthy number of tourists, but there were also many locals. The décor was bright and very porcine-oriented – how appropriate!

Dinner that evening started with osso bucco followed by a rib chop. The osso bucco was prepared and presented unlike any version that I’ve seen. The shank was split down the middle, seasoned, and cooked in the oven. I thought it was a honest way of serving the dish, almost as if to say, “hey, it’s all about the marrow and nothing but.” It was rich, with an unctuous mouthfeel, but not overpowering. The texture is a little like that of the fat in Chinese BBQ pork, except more buttery. Very satisfying!

The rib chop, a specialty of the restaurant, was equally good. It was amazingly tender, and chock full of flavour. The rind had just the right amount of give, a little firm but not overly chewy. I enjoyed it.

I finished with a crème brulee. It wasn’t anything special, but I’d expected as much. In keeping with the porcine theme, the dessert was served with two piggy-shaped macaroons.

I had a GD Beaujolais to go with the meal. For a budget wine, it was fresh, light, and fruity – an appropriate accompaniment for the dinner and a nice counterpoint to the nasty weather raging outside. (The rain finally let up after dinner, and I managed to complete my visit to Notre Dame after all.)

When eating out alone, one has plenty of time and opportunity to observe the surroundings. In no particular order, here are my observations on Paris:

In bistros and brasseries, bread is cut up before service. Why? Not sure, but the cynical side of me suspects that it is done to facilitate reuse. (See Anthony Bourdain’s “Kitchen Confidential” on the topic of bread reuse in restaurants)

Bread is never served with butter. There is, however, mustard on every table. The local patrons all partake of the bread – some with mustard, some without, most with their main courses. The tourists, on the other hand, generally don’t touch the bread.

French wait staff speak English. The key to getting them to do so is to attempt ordering in broken French…

Tips and service charges are included in the bill – very civilized. I like paying the amount that I see on the bill without having to do additional Math, especially after a few drinks *hic*.

Parisian eateries use wireless credit card machines that can be brought to your table to process payment. Your credit card never leaves your sight. What a great idea! When can we have these in North America?

[final rant on]When flying home on AC, my seat broke. My lie-flat seat wouldn’t recline, and I was given two choices: sit bolt upright or lie down for the 8.5 hr flight. What did AC offer this *G passenger for his inconvenience? 15,000 AP miles towards future personal use. What do they think I am? A masochist? [final rant off]