Bistro Jeanty
I want to tell you about a tasty meal I had the other night in which I tried three dishes I’d never had before, thoroughly confused our server, and choked on powdered sugar while trying not to share my desert with my family. Let me rewind and tell you how I got there.
I was in the middle of watching an episode of Mind of a Chef (v on brand for me, I know). Right when Chef Ludo is dolloping a prodigious amount of butter into a skillet my phone lights up with a call from Toby Kahn, my father. You see, my father had a photography show opening in Calistoga that night and needed a quick IT assist before the big show. I immediately turned back to Mind of a Chef once I’d helped out poppa Kahn, who shouldn’t be confused with Tobi Kahn, a painter who happens to, like Toby, be from NY and, like Toby, have gone to the Pratt Institute, but is a few years younger than my dad and, unlike Toby, spells his name wrong.
I was especially eager to get back to Ludo and his culinary adventures because this particular episode happened to feature one of my favorite restaurants in the world, L’Avant Comptoir. I have quite a lot to say about L’Avant Comptoir–too much in fact to say about it right here and now–but I’ll tell you this: L’Avant Comptoir is the liveliest, tastiest, yet tiniest little restaurant I’ve ever visited. Ever since my friend Dan urged us to go when I was in Paris last year I’ve recommended it to anyone I know heading to the City of Light. If you’re curious, have a watch of Mind of a Chef Season 5 Episode 9: Bistro although I think even that doesn’t do it justice.
Many hours later after the art opening had wrapped, my parents suggested we go to a place called Bistro Jeanty and I thought, this was meant to be. Ever since Mind of a Chef I had bistro food on my mind. Simply put, bistro food is french comfort food. Think cassoulet and boeuf bourguignon, coq au vin and steak frites. The food is what makes a bistro a bistro but the atmosphere is what makes a bistro a good bistro. The best bistros are friendly, not pretentious or fancy. They are lively, loud and hard to hold a conversation in. Normally, this is not my scene. I tend to prefer quieter, calmer dining experiences but I make an exception for a good bistro. And Bistro Jeanty is a good bistro.
We had to wait a bit for our table since Bistro Jeanty was poppin on Saturday night. Walking through the dining room to our table you could hear raucous laughter, clinking glasses and forks on plates. The bartender was vigorously shaking up a tasty beverage with a cha cha beat like he was in a Latin band.
Our server must have thought were were rabid because we had hardly sat down before we started rattling off appetizer orders.
“Pike quenelles!” I cried as our waiter scribbled furiously.
“Beet salad, please,” asked mom.
“Let’s get an order of the duck liver mousse,” my dad suggested as our waiter panted, trying to keep up.
“And an order of pig’s feet,” I added before he could get away.
“MOAR BUTTER!” screamed Alyssa, as our waiter, sweating profusely, ran off.
We made quick work of the bread basket before we realized our fatal mistake, we needed wine pronto. Scanning the wine list quickly we chose a Sancerre my parents knew from their last visit to BJ and then waited eagerly for the apps to arrive.
From top to bottom: Crispy pig’s feet with creamy mustard sauce, duck liver mousse with brioche toast, pike quenelles with lobster sauce and beet salad with mâche.
The pike quenelles were the first dish to land on the table. They were so light and airy I had to weigh the plate down so it wouldn’t float away. Pike quenelles are essentially French gefilte fish. No shade at Manischewitz but these babies put the jarred stuff to shame. The quenelles, little pale ovals that cut easily with the side of a spoon, were swimming in a decadent lobster sauce that was begging to be sopped up with bread. Unfortunately, they don’t sell this sauce by the carafe–we asked.
Next, we tucked into the crispy pig’s feet which is quite an impressive preparation. Apparently they slowly poach the trotter until it’s fork tender, then remove the bones, and reconstruct the foot before battering and frying. The end result is a crispy crunchy log of pork meat and gelatin that served as a textural adventure with each bite. If that doesn’t sound appetizing, I don’t know what to tell you. It was awesome, especially when doused in the accompanying mustard cream sauce and paired with bitter greens to counter the richness. Eating this dish reminded me of the food we ate in Lyon, the gastronomic capital of France, and I immediately wished I had a glass of Beaujolais in hand.
After a quick break for the beet salad (it was fine but nothing special) we popped open our mini jar of duck liver mousse. I’ve never been a fan of a liver mousse save for chicken. Chicken pate or chicken liver mousse has a mild richness that is more creamy than funky. Pate from other animals tends to be stronger flavored, often so much so that I can’t enjoy them. This duck liver mousse had a strong sour flavor that was off-putting. I thought it was just me but my parents, who had ordered the same thing the last time they were at BJs, said it tasted different than they remembered. All in all the first course was a success with the exception of the mousse. Luckily for us, it wasn’t the last mousse of the evening. Before we get to that though, we had to order our mains.
The plat du jour scallops was a popular choice, but my mom went with the porcini mushroom risotto and I waffled between the steak frites and the sole muenière. Our server talked me away from the steak frites pointing out, “you could cook a steak like this at home!” and I happily went with the sole, having just watched Ludo cook his version on Mind of a Chef earlier that day. This was my first ever sole muenière and from what I can tell it’s essentially fish swimming in butter with a few capers and some parsley. Fine by me! I gobbled it up while sipping on a not particularly noteworthy rosé de provence that couldn’t really stand up to the fish. Our waiter suggested a Russian River Pinot to pair with the sole but with all due respect, I am not going to drink anything but French wine in a French Bistro. This time however, my stubbornness did not pay off. And kids, that’s why you should always leave a note! listen to your waiter!
I promised Alyssa a bite of sole but then forgot and ate the whole thing.
The scallops, as expected, where out of this world. They came with mashed potatoes, peas and corn, and fragile ribbons of fried onion. The mushroom risotto was earthy and deeply flavored and my mom boxed up the portion she couldn’t finish. Alyssa and Toby also took some scallops home because they are all weak-willed and only Luce can handle the rigors of a multi-course meal in a French bistro!
When the dessert menus arrived I was devastated. No crème brûlée! Well technically there was a crème brûlée au chocolate but I would have no part of that abomination of a dessert. They make a perfectly good crème brûlée custard, top it with a layer of chocolate mousse and then brûlée the top of the mousse. You’re probably thinking to yourself, “that sounds good, I’d eat it.” And to that I say, as a benevolent blogger, tolerant thinker, patient person, and open-minded optimist, “you are all entitled to your wrong opinion.”
We ordered the chocolate mousse, two cappuccinos and a crème caramel to share. After a single bite of the crème caramel I immediately ordered another one all to myself.
The powdered sugar on that elephant’s ear cookie tried to kill me, but the crème caramel saved my life.
Amazingly, after all of that rich fare I felt great. I think the mark of a great restaurant is eating to your heart’s content but not feeling as if you overate. In fact, I’d argue that at many great restaurants, the portions are so well-considered and the food is so expertly prepared that guests can feel as if they ate the world, but have actually eaten less than they would have at a lesser quality establishment. At a restaurant like Bistro Jeanty, you’re satisfied much more effectively than normal and thus, you are content before you overdo it. At least, that’s been my experience.
If you find yourself in Calistoga looking at a photography show, make a pit stop at Bistro Jeanty on your way through Yountville. When I go back, I already know what I’m going to order. More quenelles, crispy pied du cochon with a glass of Beaujolais and whatever main I haven’t had before. I’ll just have to consult my server about their French wine options.