HUNGRY GERALD

When HG wanted to get some vigorous jaw exercise in Paris, HG ordered a bavette (flank steak) or an onglet (hangar or butcher steak). Tough? These were broiled baseball mitts. Well, it seems times are changing and the outlook is rosy (or bleu or saignant) for the Paris steak eater. The French, supremely nationalistic about their cuisine, are finally making an admission: French beef can be admirable when long cooked as pot au feu or boeuf bourgignon. But, served as steak French beef is usually tough and tasteless when compared to imports from Germany, Scotland, Argentina and the United States. That’s why more than 20% of meat presently served in French restaurants is imported. And, that number is rising. Good Paris steakhouses like Le Severo and Au Boeuf Couronne now depend on imports. You can get a nice steak at those places (Severo’s frites are exemplary and Boeuf Couronne serves hard-to-find pommes souflee). But, if you want really great steak nothing beats a traditional New York eatery like Spark’s and Keen’s Chop House (yes, Peter Luger’s is good but a tad overrated). HG believes New York’s restaurateurs reserve the best cuts in the world for themselves.

William Zeckendorf, Jr., real estate developer and philanthropist, died recently in Santa Fe. Born in New York, son of the legendary, flamboyant developer William Zeckendorf, Sr., Bill was a quiet, cerebral version of his father. But, like his father, he took big financial risks resulting in major ups and downs. The sons of Bill, Jr. are real estate titans in New York these days, developing and selling condominiums at astronomical prices (they recently sold a $40,000,000 condo in a building they developed on Central Park West). Bill, Jr. hired HG (late 70’s or early 80’s in HG’s memory) to thwart community opposition and publicize a risky development–a 33-story condominium tower on the northwest corner of 96th Street and Broadway called The Columbia. Lots of development plans for the site had failed. This was before the West Side became a fashionable address for the upwardly mobile and Broadway still contained many nocturnal hookers and quite a few outdoor drug markets. HG met with officials of the local elementary schools and worked out an arts program for the construction fence of the condo. Sixth and seventh grade students used the fence as a revolving art show painting pictures on themes like “My dream home”, “Favorite New York building,” “My hero,” etc. HG organized a jury of community luminaries (including some anti-development firebrands) and prizes were awarded monthly for best efforts. It all received loads of publicity and TV coverage and focused attention on the development as a family friendly and community involved environment. The condos sold quickly and Bill, Jr. went on to do major developments on Union Square, Eighth Avenue and other locations until getting whacked by financing disasters. HG always enjoyed his New York business meetings with Bill, Jr. They took place at the Sparks Steak House. Bill, Jr. thought the steak house had the best wine list in town and introduced HG to many splendid vintages. HG has delicious taste memories of cabernet from the Jordan winery in California. Bill, Jr. was a member of the distinguished wine lovers association, Confrerie des Chevaliers du Testavin. He inherited his wine love from his father. William Zeckendorf, Sr. headed the Webb & Knapp real estate firm with headquarters on midtown Madison Avenue. Its conference room was a circular space on the top floor of the building. That’s where William, Sr. hosted his legendary business lunches. HG was present at one (in 1962 or 1963, a few years before Webb & Knapp went bankrupt in 1965). HG was present because HG had been hired to do a publicity project for Mile High Center, a W & K development in Denver. As usual, a superb French wine was served at lunch (by a quite formal butler). The majority of the luncheon guests were concerned bankers and others who were owed a great deal of money by Zeckendorf. One of the bankers sipped his wine. “Say, Bill, this is great wine. How much would a bottle of this good stuff cost?” Zeckendorf stated the price. The banker blanched. The others at the table looked shocked. Yes, William Zeckendorf may have been going bankrupt but he never lowered his wine drinking standards.

When Paris chefs try to create simple American dishes they fail miserably. Paris is in the midst of a hamburger craze and, according to HG’s informants, the Paris hamburger is laughable. It is devoid of that certain tang that is only achieved at the great American burger emporiums like Bobcat Bite in Santa Fe or Burger Joint in New York (strangely located behind a curtain in the lobby of the super-posh Parker Meridien Hotel). There is some disagreement, but HG believes great steak and fries can only be obtained at the renowned New York steak joints like Spark’s and Peter Luger’s. (Severo, a darling of Parisian critics, serves a pallid version in HG’s opinion). In the latest challenge to American supremacy, The Lobster Roll Bar has opened in a fashionable section of Paris. And, how good is their seaside treat? Fuhgeddabout it !!! Discerning American experts have described the roll as too sweet and the binding mixture as insipid. (And the price for their lobster roll is about $32). If you want to know how to prepare a great lobster roll at home check out HG’s post of Sept. 9, 2012 entitled: Attention Must Be Paid. HG’s advice to the French: Stick to what you do best — escargots and silly philosophising about amour.

Yes, when HG is in Paris for a two week stay there are moments when HG becomes tired of French food (admittedly, it takes a lot of French food to make HG tired). Diving into other cuisines in Paris isn’t so simple. Obviously, Algerian, Tunisian and other Middle-Eastern food is commonplace and delicious. Reasonably priced Italian restaurants are awful: Pasta is overcooked. Risotto is gummy. The really good Italian places are astronomically expensive and, of course, totally lack the jolly, noisy ambiance of good Rome and New York Italian restaurants. Pizza? Fuhgeddabout it. One taste of Paris pizza and you know you’re not in New Jersey. Chinese food? There are some snob joints that are pricey and very ordinary. Good, simple Chinese eateries are in obscure neighborhoods and one has to shlep endlessly for a good meal. Vietnamese is another story however; cheap eateries can be found in abundance in Belleville, the 13th and in the outskirts and are lifesavers for students, backpackers, taxi and truck drivers. But, they don’t compare to the top flight Vietnamese restaurants in New York, California and — surprisingly — Denver. Paris is now in the midst of a hamburger craze. Better than Burger King but costly and just passable. Parisians tout Severo as a great steak house. It’s not. Not in the same class as Palm, Spark’s and other top New York steakeries (Must admit, however, the Severo’s steak tartare is world class and tops any in New York). HG’s Paris sources tout two unusual ethnic restaurants that will please foie-jaded palates. One is a very quirky, tiny Izakaya restaurant, a Japanese specialist in sake and tapas (plus a tasty sukiyaki). Run by a gentleman named Takamoto, it is Cave 27 located on Rue Lamarcq, Montmartre. Takamoto is a very versatile guy. Expert equestrian. A flamenco guitarist and singer. Flamenco artists often come in and perform. The other ethnic place is El Nopal, a few blocks from Canal St. Martin. Mexican, Tiny (two stools). Americans who have tried it say the tacos, burritos, quesadillas, salsas are the real deal. HG will pass on this one when in Paree. It seems ludicrous for a New Mexico guy to be eating a taco in the City of Light.

Good news. The venerable (opened in 1927) New York steak house, Gallagher’s, is not going to close. Found a last minute buyer. HG frequently lunched there (liked their sliced steak sandwich with sauteed onions and good French fries). Columnist/Novelist Jimmy Breslin was often at the bar. Gallagher’s was number three in HG’s ranking of New York steak eateries. Number one was the much missed Christ Cella (alas, long closed) and number two was Spark’s (still thriving). HG has never been fond of Peter Luger’s in Brooklyn. Overrated. Gallagher’s isn’t a charitable institution. They’re not giving food away. Sirloin steak is $46.95. Shrimp cocktail is twenty bucks and some sliced onion and tomato sets you back $14. Guess it’s all in line with New York apartment prices where a one room unit the size of a modest walk-in closet rents for $2,000 (or more) a month.

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.