First Look: Bistro Vendôme

Arthur Bovino — February 19, 2010

Clockwise from top: Australian Rack of Lamb with Potato Gratin and Rosemary Jus, Mussels Provençale, Exterior.

In a city plush with new menus touting the trendiest ingredients and applications, the opening of a French bistro that serves classics like moules frites and escargots could be easily overlooked. After being invited to Pascal Petiteau’s newly-opened Bistro Vendôme, we can report that that would be a shame. Bistro Vendôme smells of new restaurant. The wood floors shine and the paint is fresh, but it’s filled with warm lighting and once you sit down, the sop-it-up scent of butter and garlic.

Chef Petiteau is known for his facility with mussels— they don’t disappoint. The three sampled (Basilic, Normande, Provençale) were fresh and dressed with strong sauces (basil!). Each passed the test of scooping up mussel-spoonfuls of sauce, and wanting to dip in crusty bread and paper-lunchbag-brown fries. Of these, the Provençale was best, tasting the most of the sea, and sweet with butter. More butter to be found, naturally, with the garlic and parsley Escargots— more dipping too.

The Goat Cheese Cake and the smooth Steak Tartare were standard —what you’d hope for— so too, Housemade Duck Liver Pâté. Those who make it a habit to order broiled fish will enjoy the Bronzini with Artichokes “a la Barigoule.” The Australian Rack of Lamb was just right. One hiccup, the beef Tripe à la Mode de Caen, was funky even to a tripe-lover, but a plate of French pub grub compensated: Beef Cheeks Shepherd’s Pie with Black Truffle Jus. The chopped bits of tender beef cheek still had a little chew— good contrast with the pommes purées. It’s gently sauced with a deep, dark flavor almost like beef bourguignon— a devourable dish to drink with a glass of bold red.

Crème Brulée, Molten Chocolate Cake, sure, yes. A moussey Raspberry Gratin with a crispy top. Tarte Tatin, with buttery apples, and a light pastry that requires a final push down and swerve of the fork, but doesn’t have that stale flake. They’ll all go well with coffee in the downstairs dining room as you pull away from the table, look up at the buildings towering over the skylight and sigh with content.