France-Soir-o-phile

I don’t want to stray to far into the wonderful Happy Guts’ territory, so please consider this an homage rather than a rip off.

Now that I’m doing this food and sport thing I thought I’d tell you about dinner on Saturday night at France-Soir. Cause it was good.

I have often visited France-Soir’s cousin, Paris Go, and always with good result, so I had high expectations. France-Soir is a little more serious than its cross river relation but I was delighted to discover the experience was as good as promised by my companions. Having already been force-fed a bucket of gin (one very large, very dry martini) prior to dinner I was delighted to see the arrival of bread to the table. And this is good bread. Not the kind of hefty, sourdough goodness you want for dipping in oil, but thick slices of a tiny french baguette with a glossy sheen and a slight sweetness.

After much um-ing and ah-ing I opted for the scallops in basil sauce for the entrée, while he across the table chose the sea perch dumplings in prawn sauce, a favourite from the Paris Go menu. The scallops were not big, but very flavourful and while the sauce wasn’t exactly laden with basil I didn’t mind. The sauce quickly became fantastic creamy soup just waiting for me at the bottom of the empty scallop shells. This was where the bread really came into its own. Soaking up every last skerrick of sauce I ate far more than my fair share and received a brief look of concern from the waiter when he refilled the bread basket. I understand the perch dumplings were also perfect as usual.

After spending far too long trying to decipher the specials menu scribbled on the mirror behind me I gave in and chose the duck l’orange. It’s a good test of a restaurant to try the dish everyone expects to see on the menu. Rogan Josh in the Indian place, falafel in the Lebanese etc. If the kitchen does the everyday dishes as well as they do the specials you know you’re in the right place. And the duck was excellent. The very generous portion of duck, resting in a thin, orangey and not at all sweet sauce was excellent and accompanied by the best french fries I have ever eaten. If only the icy chill coming through the front door hadn’t cooled them before I had a chance to eat the lot. He across the table was also very fond of his veal in a creamy sauce ( I cant remember the finer details, they were in French), and I’m guessing the eye fillet ordered by the guy next to me was also good, as I didn’t hear a word out of him until it was completely gone.

Since the old faithfuls had seen me right so far, I chose the crème brulee for dessert. He across the table chose a sickly sweet and fiendishly dark chocolate mousse. Under pressure from the evening’s second sitting congregating at the bar the crème brulee was in front of me in record time. And France-Soir came through with the goods again. With a creamy layer of custard coated in a wonderfully thick and crunch toffee crust. I really only needed to eat half. Instead I ate the lot and rolled home with a moan and a satisfied grin.