HUNGRY GERALD

Le Dome, the vintage restaurant in the Montparnasse neighborhood of Paris, serves the best sole dish in the world. It is a Dover Sole, gently sautéed in butter. Deftly filleted by a professional waitperson, doused with a butter/lemon sauce. Accompanied by a mashed potato pancake. The cost? Astronomical. Here on Prince Edward Island, the lovely ladies of By the Bay Fish Mart, supply HG/BSK with fresh Atlantic sole. No, the fish is not Dover Sole. But, thick and firm fillets with a nice taste of the sea. (The Pacific sole fillets HG/BSK buy at Whole Foods when residing in New Mexico, are too thin and have a tendency to disintegrate when steamed or sautéed). Last night, BSK pan steamed a pound of BTB sole, using a technique learned from chef/daughter-in-law Exquisite Maiko (Visit her at the Oni Sauce stand at Brooklyn’s Smorgasburg for superb Japanese fried chicken, beef tataki and other good things). BSK steamed the sole on a bed of bok choy, spinach, ginger, garlic, soy sauce and oyster sauce. Served it with bowls of rice. Wonderful. Next week, HG will give the sole the meuniere treatment. HG will dust the sole with flour. Quick saute the fish in canola oil and butter. Serve it with a sauce of melted butter, capers, lemon juice. Plate it with a boiled PEI potato. A faint echo of Le Dome at a modest price.

There is a glittery expanse of Montparnasse in Paris that is filled with movie houses, creperies and four landmark restaurants. The super-pricey (and worth it) Le Dome which serves the best grilled sole in Paris (the fish swims in sublime lemony melted butter). La Rotonde which has fine oysters and steak tartare. Select (nice for a pre-dinner drink). La Coupole (beautiful art deco decor and fine oysters but everything else is miserable in this chain-operated trap for tourists). Montparnasse reminds HG of New York’s Broadway in its glory days (which ended in the 60’s). There were the big time movie houses: Paramount (where Frank Sinatra thrilled the bobby soxers); Capitol, Strand (all with stage shows in addition to first run movies)). Also Criterion, Trans-Lux, Palace, etc. Loads of good restaurants (mass and class) starting at 42nd Street and moving north into the 50’s where they gave way to auto showrooms. Here were some of them: Hector’s Cafeteria (good, cheap food); Rosoff’s (excellent roast duck); Turf (fine cheesecake); McGinnis’ (lavish roast beef sandwiches plus sea food specialties); Jack Dempsey’s (The champ served fine steaks). Just a few steps oiff Broadway was Gluckstern’s, a top flight Jewish kosher restaurant (not to be confused with the OTHER Gluckstern’s that was on Delancey St.). Also just off Broadway was Dinty Moore’s (best corned beef and cabbage plus liver with onions and bacon). The unquestioned essential Broadway restaurant was Lindy’s. Immortalized in Damon Runyon’s fiction. Comedians like Milton Berle, Jack E.Leonard, Jack Carter and Henny Youngman topped each other with one liners in its environs. It was where the powerful columnist Walter Winchell lunched. Song writers, bookmakers, gamblers, press agents, actors, producers, musicians and other colorful folk filled the tables. The food, which ranged from Jewish-American specialties to superb pork sausages with eggs, was splendid. And, the cheesecake was legendary (even better than Junior’s or Turf). What happened to the wonderful New York cuisine that Lindy’s exemplified? Gone. The world changes and not always for the better.

The answer to this question is: Yes and No. If you are talking about food and the price/quality ratio, New York tops Paris. Also, Paris is, for the the most part, a one trick pony. True, many of Paris’ most edgy restaurants and 3 Star Shrines have increased the use of Asian spices and cooking techniques to touch on a type of fusion cuisine; but overall, what you get in the majority of Paris Restaurants is French food. With the exception of Moroccan, other ethnic cuisines are dumbed down to suit conservative Parisian tastes. Compare that to New York which has three distinct Chinatowns each with an enormous amount of eating spots. There are whole neighborhoods in Queens (and in other boroughs) devoted to ethnic dining: Korean, Vietnamese, Indian, Greek, Italian, Mexican, Argentine and Colombian, Russian, Jamaican — and much more. And those are just the outer boroughs. Within Manhattan itself, you are able to go on a veritable world cuisine tour in just a 4 block radius. And, yes, great Jewish pastrami still lives in, alas, fewer and fewer places. Makes Paris seem very provincial. Small town. In addition, New York has steak houses like Peter Luger’s and Spark’s that are true carnivore heavens.

But, Paris still has that indefinable something, Call it charm. Call it elan. Call it sparkle. Whatever. HG is thinking about late night meals at the art deco brasserie Le Vaudeville which seemingly hums with joy and the promise of good times. Brass. Aged, cigarette-smoke stained marble. Perfect lighting. Or, dinner at the brasserie Le Stella on posh Rue Victor Hugo. Low voices. Women who know how to tie scarves. Men in well cut tweeds or blazers. Soaring towers of fruits de mer. Or, the died-and-gone-to-heaven grilled sole drenched in the best butter at Le Dome. Or, the intimacy, warmth and sheer sexiness of many small bistros serving unassuming food. There was a left bank place called Balzar where the clientele and atmosphere were so diverting that the so-so food was forgiven. (Taken over by a chain some years ago, HG does not know if the place still pleases). Other Paris pluses: Steak tartare (always bad in New York); Belon oysters; blood sausage (boudin noir); tete de veau and offal. (An exception: Paris tripe doesn’t compare to New Mexico menudo as served by places like El Parasol near Santa Fe).

Probably, the most beguiling quality about Paris restaurants is their sheer professionalism. No surprise. The restaurant, as we know it, was invented in Paris. But, if your interest is in variety and getting a dining bang for your buck, New York is incomparable. Yes, “What street compares to Mott Street in July, sweet pushcarts gently gliding by?”. But, an after dinner walk in Paris with the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance is nothing to sneer at.

Yesterday, Colorado State Senator Gail S., probably the state’s smartest and hardest working legislator (a Dem, of course), was busy attending to government matters near the New Mexico border. Accompanied by her husband, the brilliant lawyer Alan S., one of HG’s favorite dining companions (they shared an epic feast at Le Dome in Paris). Last minute phone call and these delightful people shared an improvised, tossed together dinner Chez HG and BSK. Flutes of Prosecco on the terrace. Then a platter of sheep feta, Kalamata olives, Kumato tomatoes, sliced sweet onions — all showered with basil and olive oil. Main course was linguine with a sauce of Spanish tuna, sauteed onions and garlic, tomatoes, capers and Italian parsley. Mighty good. (Top flight Italian or Spanish tuna is imperative for this dish). A loaf of Santa Fe Farmers Market sour dough bread enhanced the meal. Cotes du Rhone red wine. Mango sorbet for dessert.

Illuminating talk about the eccentricities of southwest USA politics and the proclivity of the French ruling classes to walk away with impunity from shocking charges of venality and corruption.

The late, great French chef, Fernand Point, said the basis of great cuisine was butter. High quality butter. And, lots of it. HG agrees.

HG’s thoughts linger on sole prepared at Le Dome in Paris or raie at Rech (also in Paris), both dishes unthinkable without great quantities of butter. Or HG’s favorite Paris breakfast: A fresh from the baker baguette, sweet butter and cafe au lait.

The valuable blog, Lost New York City, has retrieved the recipe for the spaghetti dish served at the Longchamps restaurant chain in days gone by. The basis is 3/4 cup of butter. Onions, shallots, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, tomato puree, a pinch of sugar, a pinch of all spice, salt, pepper, a bay leaf are browned and then simmered for about 40 minutes. This long simmering in butter creates a rich, buttery sauce that captures tomato flavor without a hint of acidity. When the sauce is complete saute 1/2 pound (or more) chicken livers and a chopped shallot in 3 tablespoons of butter. Add to the sauce. Pour over one pound of pasta (HG likes fettuccini). Grate parmesan and grinds of the pepper mill.

A dish that will not be applauded by cardiologists.