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Le Severo and Casa Olympe
Bistros to build a dream
on
PARIS: In 1987 William Bernet traded in his career as
Parisian butcher for that of bistrotier, taking over
as owner of, chef and server for, a tiny bistro on Rue
des Plantes on Paris's right bank. He served well aged
beef and had a selection of no more than five little
regional wines.
He is in the same space today, but a decorative upgrade
just three years ago and some help in the kitchen from
Johnny Beguin has turned his Le Severo into a model bistro,
with a selection of no less than 200 French wines and
some of the finest, well-aged Limousin beef from France
that one can find.
Vegetarians, read no farther, there's nothing for you
here. Meat eaters, rejoice. Thick slabs of rare beef
chosen and aged by Bernet himself are served fragrant
and juicy, along with some of the finest French fries
I've had, golden, crispy, with the true taste of potato.
A platter of assorted sausages consists of thoroughly
top-notch charcuterie, including thin slices of andouilette,
rosy rosettes, the finest pork rillettes I have ever
tasted (I could not stop myself), and extra-thick slices
of crusty country bread.
There is room here for no more than 24 diners, mostly
at highly varnished wooden tables set on a colorful tile
floor. Bernet uses good-sized glasses so you can really
enjoy your wine, and crisp linen napkins so you don't
feel you're roughing it.
An entire wall of this brick-red bistro is given over
to a series of blackboards offering the day's wine selections
and his specials. On one visit, I had an oldtime favorite
Cuvee Meme, a Ceps Centenaires from the artisanal winemaker
Michele Laurent in the Rhône Valley. The grapes
come from 110-year-old grenache vines, are hand-harvested
and aged a year in oak barrels. The wine tastes of grapes,
not of the burning sun. On another visit, Bernet introduced
me to a new Minervois (I never met a Minervois that did
not inspire me), Jean-Baptise Senat's cuvee La Nine 2003,
which was astonishingly full and rich, considering its
young age.
A generous portion of expertly seared foie de veau was
classically accompanied by a butter-rich potato purée,
and a starter salade de chèvre was a quiet culinary
masterpiece: a tangle of baby arugula and baby spinach
leaves were dressed in a fine vinaigrette, while beside
them rested a rich disc of ultra-fresh goat cheese showered
with chopped chives and drizzled with olive oil.
Steak tartare arrived in simple glory, studded with
rosy shallots and giant capers. I've rarely seen the
dish so well presented: intuitively seasoned, chewy and
fragrant, like eating a meat cocktail. And alongside,
those gorgeous fries.
Throughout the meal, Bernet scurries about with an immense
aura of calm, cooking in a kitchen in which he can barely
turn around, opening bottles, clearing tables, taking
orders, making it all seem so easy. So did Fred Astaire.
Like William Bernet, Dominique Versini
has had a bit of a sea change over
the years. When I first moved to Paris
in 1980, her lively restaurant Olympe
in the 15th arrondissement was all
the rage, and she was known as Dominique
Nahmias. The place was packed day and
night with budding foodies and she
was one of the most celebrated female
cooks in France, offering up the most
modern and audacious fare of the day.
Her moment in the sun ended, and she
reappeared a few years ago, cooking
the simple kinds of food she really
wants to cook. As a native of Corsica,
her favorite ingredients are naturally
those of the Mediterranean: fresh smoky
eggplant, tomatoes that sing of the
sun, the creamy rich brousse, Corsica's
version of sheep's milk ricotta cheese,
joints of earthy roasted goat, plenty
of pasta, wintry beef cheeks bathed
in a chive vinaigrette..
Her Casa Olympe is also a dream sort
of bistro, with sunny, brick-red walls,
a pale-green frieze of olives and olive
branches, and elbow-to-elbow tables
set with pleasantly crisp white linen
tablecloths and napkins. The two tiny
rooms not far from the Place Saint
Georges in the ninth arrondissement
hold no more than 30 people.
The service here is efficient but
faceless. On my last visit, the food
was loaded with personality and verve,
but the dining room felt more like
a morgue. No sign of Olympe Versini
making the rounds of the tables - her
hair all shiny black and cut into a
classic pageboy - no chatter from the
waiters, no music, just an awkward
silence.
That did not stop us from digging
in to her generous platter of the freshest
of golden girolles, chanterelle mushrooms,
well-seared and seasoned, served in
a well-worn black metal skillet. Sips
of the ripe and ready red 2001 Vieille
Julienne Vieille Vignes Cotes du Rhône
went beautifully with the meal: It
was a peppery, ruby-colored wine full
of elegance and charm.
I adored Versini's version of thick,
roasted slices of eggplant cooked to
a soft confit, topped with a fine homemade
tomato sauce, that soothing brousse
cheese, a dab of pesto and a few leaves
of basil.
Equally impressive was the ravioli
of langoustine, encased in paper-thin
leaves of Chinese pastry and bathed
in a rich sauce that blended the smoky
piment d'espelette from France's southwest,
a touch of tomato, cream and cognac.
The dish is rich and regal without
being heavy, almost too elegant (but
not quite) for a bistro.
Equally expert and satisfying was
the duck ravioli, rich with cooking
juices, perfumed with cream and chives,
and dressed with a shower of freshly
cooked spinach leaves.
Dessert brought back the most pleasant
childhood memories: Smothered amidst
chunks of meringue and whipped cream
came an array of strawberries, raspberries
and miniature wild strawberries airy,
tangy, delicious.
Le Severo
8 Rue des Plantes
Paris 14
Telephone: 01-45-40-40-91.
Closed Saturday dinner and all day
Sunday; à la carte, 35 € to
50 €, including service but not
wine.
Casa Olympe
48 Rue Saint-Georges
Paris 9
Telephone: 01-42-85-26-01
Closed Saturday and Sunday; à la
carte, 55 to 60 €, including
service but not wine; menu,37 €,
including service but not wine.
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