Monday, March 31, 2014

Restaurant Ober-Sale - Nice, Tasty, Local - in Paris, That Is

Isn't it nice to have a restaurant, with sweet service, a reasonable tariff and good food, all within walking distance of your apartment (or house, I guess)?  Also, isn't it nice, when you're a tourist, to go to a restaurant that isn't filled with other tourists all speaking your native tongue?  Now, I'm not gonna go all psycho here and bitch about tourists; after all, that's what we are.  And believe me, I don't believe there's a restaurateur that minds his or her restaurant being filled with tourists spending their moolah there - it's what helps keep them in biz.  Where was I?

Oh yeah, the local joint that you can return to time and again. Well, Significant Eater and I won't necessarily be returning to Restaurant Ober-Sale in our immediate future (unless we move to Paris), but if we were living here it would probably be in our regular rotation.

It's tiny, maybe 24 seats, and from what I could tell there was one guy doing everything out front and one guy cooking - and doing everything else.  In Paris, this is probably a bit easier to do than, say, in NYC, as restaurants like this tend to have one seating a night, with no turn of tables - you make a reservation and the table is yours for the duration - by the way, that's why if you make a reservation anywhere, and you don't show up or cancel it ahead of time, you're a douche and you should just stay home and eat your miserable frozen pizza on your couch because you're probably an asshole of a customer as well. Where was I?

Oh yeah, Ober-Sale.  We were started with a little amuse-bouche of carrot velouté, that was pure carrot essence while not being overly sweet, a nice trick.  Sig Eater's entrée (yeah, in France that's a first course) was a crab bisque; rich, decadent and she barely shared any with me! I had scallops, served atop a bed of fennel ratatouille with chorizo, and the combo worked very nicely...
For our plats, Sig Eater enjoyed her braised beef, fork tender and helped along with just a sprinkle from the tiny bowl of fleur de sel perched on our table. I, because I have to order birds when I'm eating somewhere where the birds actually have some texture and flavor, had the guinea fowl, perfectly cooked, slightly gamey, and as you can see, served with a nice, creamy (this is France, after all) sauce over mushrooms and potatoes...
No meal is complete, in Sig Eater's food mind when she's on vacation, without a bit of cheese...
And these four nice, ripe specimens hit the spot.  Sometimes we'll even have dessert after the cheese course, which is kinda proper. This night, owing to the fact that we needed to crash, and soon, we didn't.  But looking around the room, others sure seemed to be enjoying theirs.  Now, where was I?

Oh yeah - the local.  We're staying in the 11th arrondisement, a block or two from Rue Oberkampf - we like this area a lot, are a bit familiar with it and it fits our schlepping around needs perfectly, as there are probably 6 metro lines within a 10-minute walk.  Rue Oberkampf is an area with some of the city's noisiest, craziest nightlife - a walk up or down it on a Saturday night is basically like walking around on the lower east side of Manhattan at the same time - pure insanity.  But tucked away on the quiet end of the Rue, you can find Restaurant Ober-Sale.  If you're here on vacation, it might be worth giving it a try; if you lived here, it might even become your local; I'd sure be happy if it was in my neighborhood.

Restaurant Ober-Sale
17 rue Oberkamph, 75011
+33 01 43 38 46 68

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Spring's Here Finally...in Paris

Significant Eater and I have celebrated rather big-deal birthdays this year; last month we had dinner at Le Bernardin. And just it time for spring, we've taken a trip - to Paris.  Anyone that lives in the northeast knows what I mean when I say that it's about time for spring.  Our bad-ass winter was starting to get to me. Oh, the weather teased us, to be sure -  one day it was in the 60's, and the winter coat was ready to be put away; the next day - snow. So it was great to land here, drop our suitcases off at the apartment, race outside and see blossoms on the trees and feel the warmth of a 65° F (excuse me - 17 ℃) day.

For lunch, I wanted to try a place I'd read good things about - Hai Kai - located on one of Canal St. Martin's quays. But we got there a little too late, as their lunch menu had been 86ed by about 1:45. So we crossed over the canal and immediately found ourselves inside La Verre Vole, a hodgepodge of a wine-shop and restaurant.  Since it was really breakfast for us, Sig Eater decided on a nice, night green and white asparagus with poached egg and crisped ham dish.  I stayed light too, deciding on a haunch of pork, beautifully cooked with cockles and baby spring onions, served on a bed of grains...
Good start, but we still hadn't had our breakfast coffee, so after lunch we walked over to one of the many coffee shops that have sprouted here over the past year or two, complete with tattooed, bearded and beautiful baristas and cooks, HolyBelly...
The filter coffee was superb (as was the chocolate cake), and we walk out happy and jittery, carrying some beans for our morning brews, which I'm drinking a cup of as I'm writing this...
Our post-coffee walk took us past the fantastic (and fantastically restored) Place de la République...
And past these gentlemen, playing pétanque...
The guy in the red came over and asked me if I was from the Bronx...fuggetaboutit!  We headed back to the apartment to unpack and relax a bit before dinner...