The Paris Commune: No French Fare But Fantastique French ToastOct 05 '02 Write an essay on this topic.
Popular Products in Kitchen
The Bottom Line Traditional brunch favorites skillfully prepared. Hearty but not overwhelming. Located in one of Manhattan's most "neighborhoody" neighborhoods - great area to walk off a satisfying meal. Crackling fireplace in winter.
The menu at The Paris Commune bills its French toast as “world famous.” Though I would venture that is a bit of a stretch, I do not deny that the French toast is certainly something to write home about. Whenever I get a craving for French toast, I most often turn my sights toward this cozy West Village eatery. Located across the street from the Bleecker Playground in a neighborhood lined with ivy-covered townhouses and packed with one-of-a-kind boutiques, the Paris Commune epitomizes the concept of casual Sunday brunching with friends for me. Although there is no one “authentic” New York experience because New York is so many things to so many people, brunch at the Paris Commune is an example of one such experience. Because the streets of West Village can be hard to navigate (many streets curve and cross each other) and the area is a bit far from the subway lines, few tourists travel out that way. Instead you will find that it is a gathering place for young New Yorkers. (The crowd at the Paris Commune is primarily the twenties and thirties set). There is a sense of culture in the West Village neighborhood though not of the same kind that you might experience in the Lincoln Center area, for instance. West Village is home to a handful of galleries, specialty bookstores and small, off-off Broadway theaters. More than once, I have had pre-theater brunch at the Paris Commune, and in my opinion, it is exactly the right type of dining experience to precede experimental theater. The servers at the Paris Commune could very well be musicians or actors, and I don’t mean that as a criticism of them. They are friendly and usually get your order right. Just don’t expect flawless, bend-over-backward service. My earlier comment stems more from the fact that they are a bit quirky with a little douse of attitude. They are not “career servers,” like those folks that Danny Meyer hires, who will probably go on to manage their own stylish restaurants. No, clad in faded denim, tanks and t-shirts, the servers at the Paris Commune are laid-back with a hint of cheekiness. The Paris Commune does not accept brunch reservations and its space is small (one room, maybe 400 square feet), so you may have a wait. If you want to avoid waiting, try to arrive before 1:00 p.m. Typically 1:00-2:00 p.m. is when most of their regulars show up for brunch. The décor of the restaurant is dated and mismatched. The wood floors have seen so much traffic that you can no longer discern the original stain of the wood. The wooden tables and chairs are equally worn. A red vinyl banquette lines one side of the room. A fireplace (which is blazing in the wintertime - a rarity in New York), framed by a mint-green mantel, graces the other side. In the very back of the restaurant is a bar area, but there really is no room to lounge around there. Why they feel the need to place a large vase filled with tall gladiolas on the diminutive bar counter is a mystery to me. So is the attention-grabbing crystal disco ball hanging from the center of the ceiling. Aside from the eclectic interior decor, the Paris Commune is traditional in its brunch offerings and old-fashioned in its convivial ambiance. Though there is nothing particularly French about its brunch menu despite its name, there is something more European than American about its mood. The restaurant is boisterous and lively with a feeling of cordial welcome among strangers. Everyone is relaxed and comfortable and probably still recovering from a Saturday night out on the town. It seems almost uncharitable to mention that the restaurant’s silverware looks like something that has passed from garage sale to garage sale although I would be remiss if I did not tell you that I found leftover traces of some food substance on my supposedly clean fork. The server graciously replaced it, but if you like your restaurants spick-and-span, this may not be the place for you. But before you make up your mind too quickly, let me tell you about the French toast ($8.55). It is made with wheat bread instead of white, adding an extra textural element to the dish that you don’t usually find in French toast. The bread is soft and fluffy, and a rustic, artisanal crust surrounds each oval-shaped piece of toast. Each piece of toast (an order comes with three) is lightly covered with a batter that is not too sweet. It carries a faint scent of vanilla that lingers and permeates your palate. Butter is used sparingly, so the bread stays firm and the exterior somewhat crunchy. This French toast is possibly my favorite in the city. For an extra dollar, you can have it with a side of fruit, but the fruit is not terribly exciting. The restaurant frequently serves it with a combination of strawberries, bananas and apples. During our last visit, both the strawberries and the bananas were overripe. The restaurant shows a similar restraint in its preparation of Eggs Benedict ($9.55). Most of the time when I order Eggs Benedict, I request the Hollandaise sauce to be placed on the side. Otherwise, the dish shows up drenched in an impossibly rich yellow glop. But at the Paris Commune, I have never found that to be the case. Perfectly poached eggs sit on top of a bed of fresh spinach and a toasted English muffin. A thin layer of Hollandaise sauce covers the eggs, and to my surprise, the first time I tried it, the Hollandaise sauce contains some mustard, which breaks through the heaviness and gives it an extra zing. Though they may not have the fluffy, air-brushed appearance of say, Sarabeth’s textbook omelettes, I like the Paris Commune’s omelettes precisely because they are slightly browned and crunchy. You can probably tell by now that I’m a diner who enjoys texture. I prize the crisp edges of the omelettes. Sometimes when Mr. Epicure and I are sharing dishes, I’ll eat all of the edges and leave him with the center. (Lucky for me, he is so accommodating.) The Paris Commune serves some great omelettes. Its Tomato, Mozzarella and Italian Sausage Omelette ($8.55) is fantastic. It is almost like having pizza in an omelette. The spicy chunks of Italian sausage make this dish particularly appealing and filling. The more unusual combination of the Sour Cream and Scallion Omelette ($7.75) provides a good alternative for those desiring a lighter meal. Sour cream and eggs work amazingly well together. The omelettes all arrive with an English muffin and a side of pommes frites. (The restaurant calls them “pommes frites,” but really they are thinly sliced, triangular potato wedges.) The Grilled Chicken Sandwich ($11.55) deserves special mention. The generously sized sandwich consists of a deliciously moist and flavorful chicken cutlet, some of your standard fixings and a not-so-standard but delightful cranberry mayo. For those with truly hearty appetites, I might recommend the Sliced Sirloin Steak and Eggs ($11.75). Mr. Epicure ordered this dish during one of our visits and proclaimed it a winner. I enjoyed a bite of the succulent steak, but I can’t eat that much meat in the morning. I have noticed a number of patrons ordering the restaurant’s Granola and Oatmeal ($5.75). Both are served with the same strawberry-banana-apple fruit medley. The portions in the bowls look substantial, making them more of a meal than a side order. In my opinion, I would save the cold and hot cereals for busy mornings when you are on the run, and indulge in the French toast or Eggs Benedict during your leisurely weekend repasts. In terms of beverages, I always have a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice ($3.25). It is sweet and pulpy, but served in a small wine glass. While I find the size to be disconcerting, it is even worse that on the menu, the restaurant offers store-bought orange juice for a dollar less. That’s like having canned fruit and fresh fruit listed as choices on a menu, or frozen vegetables and fresh vegetables. People dine out to be pampered, to have someone else go through the labor-intensive process of preparing quality food for them, so I consider it a travesty to have store-bought/pre-packaged items appear on a menu. Okay, I’ll stop my tirade now. It’s just one of those little things that bother me, but don’t let that dissuade you from checking this place out. With its marvelous food and location in a neighborhood evocative of Paris’ tree-lined avenues, the Paris Commune is a restaurant where one could happily become a regular. Address: 411 Bleecker Street (between Bank St. and 11th), New York, NY Telephone: 212-929-0509 Attire: Sunday morning casual Vegetarian friendly: Yes Child friendly: Close quarters, so maybe not.  |
| Read all comments (4)|Write your own comment |
|
Ads by Google
|
