Due to a long ridiculous histoire involving arrests, my sister J3 and her boyfriend J4* missed their intended flight to Paris from Los Angeles, and wound up arriving the day after the extravagant meal at Rino I'd organized to celebrate their arrival. They arrived in time for what I'd presumed would be a low-key hangover day.
That was my eventual excuse, anyway. I had admittedly been hoping that 1er natural wine bistro Les Fines Gueules would, despite its laid-back reputation, deliver some kind of minor whizz-bang, some gastronomic pyrotechnic, some superlative aspect that might knock at least one sock off my American visitors' travel-weary feet.
Nothing was outright awful, or bad even. Les Fines Gueules, as a restaurant, is fine, perfectly fine, considering it's smack in the 1er arrondissement, and it's open seven days a week, and the owners appear to have at one time or another had some good fundamental ideas. All the familiar natural bistro boxes are dutifully ticked: fresh, responsibly sourced ingredients, a well-priced natural wine list, a pleasant informal atmosphere... Nevertheless my guests might as well have still been on the plane, ten-thousand feet up, for how autopiloted the whole experience felt.
This last qualifier was the dealbreaker for Les Fines Gueules. Not a single staff member seemed to know or have any influence over the wine list, a fact made all the more insensible by how simplistic and border-line dull it was:
I am kind of a vicious nitpicker about wine lists. Simply because, at the ardoise level, they are so easy to maintain as to permit no excuse for poor construction. Several things jump out at me about the list at Les Fines Gueules. There are only six whites. There's a weird price jump throughout, with seemingly no wines in stock priced between 32€ and 60+€. And, considering the overall pokiness of the place, there's a rather heavy emphasis on conventional Champagnes, to the exclusion of whatever pétillants naturels are in stock in a given moment (the latter aren't listed).
I asked about the natural sparklers, naturally. It's how one usually gets a meal going, if one has anything whatsoever to celebrate. What followed, though, was a tortuously silly interaction with the server behind the bar, who had no idea what natural sparkling wines were in stock, and who just kept rummaging around in the nether reaches of the bar fridges producing half-empty bottles from very familiar vignerons, all around the 14€ retail range. I explained that since there were five of us, we'd need a whole bottle of something.
We eventually turned up a whole bottle of organic Loire vigneron Damien Delecheneau's 2009 "Nouveau-Nez," a sparkling Montlouis I'd seen before but never tried. (I seem to remember it once being in stock at my local caviste of the same name, though I might be wrong.)
The "Nouveau Nez" is an undosed sparkler, bottled while still in the midst of primary fermentation, sourced from Delecheneau's 14ha estate in Amboise. It was pretty and balanced, with an odd evolving mushroom note we all noticed. I liked the mushroom note; it was a curiously refreshing change from all the pretty balanced Chenins one encounters.
I took a perfectly okay mushroom soup as an appetizer, though I insist this had no bearing on the flavors detected in the above Chenin. It just hammered home the difference between mushroom-as-metaphor (which is a stand-in for a kind of ethereal dusty / earthy / decompositional taste) and actual mushroom (which is much fresher).
After appetizers - which included also some bright marinated sardines, and a slightly knuckley plate of lamb kidneys - J4 and I turned our attentions again to the wine list, in search of something exciting. We settled for Domaine Mersiol's Alsace Riesling 2009, a wine I knew from having it once at La Robe et le Palais, which nearby restaurant incidentally succeeds in all those departments where Les Fines Gueules stumbles (passion, variety, knowledge, etc.). It's a flinty arrowhead of a Riesling, superprecise and dry as a fossil.
At the time it seemed sort of like a second aperitif, however. In retrospect what we needed was something a little showier - a little more flag-waving - a wine that screamed "Here you are, in France!" My sister's boyfriend J4 is a wine-lover too, after all. He runs the spirits program at a marvelous restaurant in LA called Palate**. But firecracker wines are mostly absent from the list at Les Fines Gueules. I like humility in a wine list as much as anyone, but it's just poor restaurateurism, to design a list that can't meet the demands of even a low-key, somewhat broke, geeky celebration. I'm not talking about Bollinger, obviously; I mean some Alsace crus, some cult Beaujolais, some older Vouvray, anything a little indulgent and complex, for crissakes.
Whatever. I hadn't seen my sister in two years. We had a lot to catch up on, so in some sense it was helpful to eat and drink mostly unremarkable things. The wines, at least, were natural, and the Hugo Desnoyer-sourced steak tartare I had -
- was hand-cut and fresh, if a bit over-parmesaned, considering the starry provenance of the meat itself. At a certain point we just gave up and saved the serious drinking for later, at the Native Companion's nearby cocktail bar. My only regret in the end was having chosen, as my visitors' introduction to Paris' natural wine scene, a place that kind of phones it in.
* For the sake of clarity on this blog, I need to begin hanging out with people whose names do not begin with J. If this sounds like you, please read the guidelines before applying.
Les Fines Gueules
43, rue Croix des Petits-Champs
75001 PARIS
Metro: Sentier or Bourse
Tel: 01 42 61 35 41
Map
Related Links:
The Tripoz' astounding sparkling Aligoté at La Robe et Le Palais, 75001
A glowing, beautifully pictorial 2011 review of Les Fines Gueules @ DavidLebovitz, who is usually not this wrong about a place
More raves about Les Fines Gueules @ JohnTalbott
An account of a 2009 visit to Damien and Coralie Delecheneau @ Jim'sLoire
A run-down of Delecheneau's wines @ FarmWineImports
Can't say I'm much of an admirer of Mersiol. Despite that, I brought out-of-town guests here too -- for lunch rather than dinner -- and went ahead and accepted, at said guests' curious urging, Mersiol's Pinot Noir as wine #1. Very nearly flavorless, as much of a void wine as I've encountered in years. In search of some impact I suggested the Riffault Raudonas next, which was a much bigger hit.
ReplyDeleteYou and I had the same issue with the tartare: good meat turned unnecessarily sawdusty by additions. I started with the burrata, which was a good-but-not-great burrata in a way that makes me wonder why they bothered; burrata that doesn't make your eyes roll back is a waste of dairy.
They were nice enough, and it was a pleasant meal. But I sure wouldn't rush back.
you must know of the cave @ fines gueules.. yes?
ReplyDelete... the 15000 bt cave .. so many selections .. but no carte .. Arnaud the owner was at this long before the "natural wine fashion" .. and i guess if the staff is not familiar with your palate ... so if one does not know what to ask for then I can see where they might have a problem .. once the staff knows your palate though.. and trip beneath the 3 level cave smiles all around!
ReplyDeletei'm told there's a basement dining area, is that what you mean?
ReplyDeletei'm not aware there are 15000 btls down there - i'm even more puzzled by the place, should that be true. why on earth would they not offer them - or even refer to them - when dealing with a table that was plainly disappointed with the few selections written on the ardoise? why on earth would i have gone through such a hilariously long interaction with the bartender trying to locate a full bottle of sparkling wine at the bar? the wine list specifically invites a guest to ask about the bottles of natural sparklers currently available,* and it turned out precisely one was available, a back vintage at the back of the fridge.
the implication that i did not know what to ask for is a bit much. (i think i led off with, "i'm looking for some sparkling chenin.") i see why people are protective of this place - it's a chill space, with good products. but these virtues don't excuse poor execution.
* which is why i'm also puzzled that fellow foodwriter barbra austin made a comment on paris by mouth about my request for a natural sparkling wine at fines gueules being somehow "hipster." how on earth is it "hipster" if one is encouraged to ask for just those sorts of wines? i'm just following orders here.
Well , if that's you in red, you certainly fit the "hipster" description, non?
ReplyDeleteain't me in red, sir. that's my friend J4. furthermore i really fail to see how wearing a red shirt and not shaving qualifies one for the h-word.
ReplyDeletehave said before, will repeat here: "hipster" is one of these odd adjective-nouns that describe the speaker or writer more effectively than they do the subject under discussion. "hipster" apparently encompasses so many diverse subcultures as to have no hope of retaining a coherent meaning; whereas the motive to dismiss said subcultures with one uncomprehending umbrella word is, by comparison, quite easily identified and defined.
I've been down to the cave at Fines Gueles and it is indeed quite expansive. I don't know how many bottles are there but 15,000 doesn't sound far off. Why the staff (esp. bartender) aren't more clued-in about the wines there is beyond me as I've met the owner and he is quite passionate and knowledgeable about (natural) wine.
ReplyDeletehe ought to speak with his staff, i guess. that's just depressing irony, in that case, to have amassed 15,000 btls of natural wine that the servers don't care to mention or sell.
ReplyDelete(it's not like they were even busy, the night i was there. there's really no excuse, unless the owner aims to drink all 15,000 btls himself.)
Can't say I'm much of an admirer of Mersiol. Despite that, I brought out-of-town guests here too -- for lunch rather than dinner -- and went ahead and accepted, at said guests' curious urging, Mersiol's Pinot Noir as wine #1. Very nearly flavorless, as much of a void wine as I've encountered in years. In search of some impact I suggested the Riffault Raudonas next, which was a much bigger hit.
ReplyDeleteYou and I had the same issue with the tartare: good meat turned unnecessarily sawdusty by additions. I started with the burrata, which was a good-but-not-great burrata in a way that makes me wonder why they bothered; burrata that doesn't make your eyes roll back is a waste of dairy.
They were nice enough, and it was a pleasant meal. But I sure wouldn't rush back. No mention of the cellar, either.