Like the late, lamented Whitney Houston, I believe that children are our future. I mean, who can argue with that? But that”™s not to say I don”™t get quite frustrated with them, especially in the context of restaurants, where we go out of way to indulge our little darlings”™ every whim.
Don”™t you sometimes long for the occasional child-free lunch or dinner outing, without screaming, sulking or chicken tenders? I know I do. Which is why ”“ and with Senior Citizens”™ Day on Monday, Aug. 21 ”“ it was such a pleasure to take my 93-year-old friend out for dinner the other week to Bistro de Ville, an Eastchester restaurant about which I had heard good things.
This two-months old bistro certainly looks the part. With its potted palms, bentwood chairs and mosaic tile flooring, you can easily imagine yourself in a charming bistro du quartier on Paris”™ Left Bank. Mind you, I think we would both have liked some more typically French background music ”“ Charles Aznavour, perhaps or Mireille Mathieu? ”“ than the slightly too loud, atonal sounds that did little to enhance an otherwise first-rate dinner.
My properly grown-up guest usually starts with a properly grown-up drink, usually a dirty martini, but on this occasion she opted for a bicyclette, a cocktail made with gin, Dubonnet, St. Germain liqueur and Champagne. (Dubonnet and gin, incidentally, was the late Queen Elizabeth II”™s favorite tipple.) Yours truly went for a French 75.
Pronouncing our fellow diners “a nice crowd,” my guest then made eyes at our server, who was a dead ringer for Benedict Cumberbatch, before ordering fattoush, a seasonal take on the famous Lebanese bread salad, made here with plums, figs and preserved lemon, to which she gave the thumbs up. “I loved his Sherlock Holmes,” she said, as if to explain her flirtatious behavior. “Evidently,” I replied. My pâté de campagne, a coarse country pâté, had an arresting texture, a good degree of fat and was long on flavor. With a dollop of red cabbage and cornichons, this was very similar to how a Parisian bistro would have served it and it tasted just as good.
That was the case with our main courses, too. For me, duck, which came as two separate components combined on one plate ”“ the confit leg and thigh with three fleshy slices of breast. The oven-roasted breast, in a seasonal cherry sauce, was exceptionally tender. (The classic dish without the confit leg is better known as duck Montmorency.) Served on a plate bearing a duck motif, which also serves as the bistro”™s logo, my dish came with pommes de ville, a crunchy potato, which I substituted with pommes aligoté, impossibly rich mashed potatoes mixed with cream and tomme cheese. An unforgettable dish.
My nonagenarian friend, meanwhile, chose a shrimp brochette for her entrée, which received another thumbs up. She also really enjoyed the Moroccan rice which came with it, another typically French nod to North Africa and the Levant. Bistro de Ville owner Ed Taylor was the co-founder of Farmer & The Fish, so in addition to superb beef and poultry (the duck, we learned, is Hudson Valley-reared,) the fish and shellfish here ”“ salmon, tuna, mussels, lobster ”“ is second to none.
East and West Coast oysters, a vegetarian couscous, oven-roasted chicken and a burger with raclette and bacon would be other tempting dishes to return for.
From the short dessert list ”“ which includes espresso pot de crème and another highly seasonal dish, a cherry clafoutis, a kind of flan pie ”“ we shared a generous heap of rich chocolate mousse, served from a large white china tureen. The Bordeaux Supérieur that we had been drinking earlier, or what remained of it ”“ which was just a touch too punchy for the shrimp, a shade underpowered for the duck, but that”™s compromise for you ”“ went perfectly with the mousse. And like real grown-ups, or perhaps irresponsible ones, we closed dinner out with a couple of glasses of Crémant de Bourgogne blanc de blancs, which came in wonderfully old-fashioned coupes, or “bosom” glasses as people used to call them. They somehow evoked a glamorous cocktail party in the 1950s.
We agreed we loved Bistro de Ville, grown-up and sophisticated but without ever giving the sense of trying too hard. And when, towards the end of dinner, I mentioned I was now watching out for Micheline, another French bistro in Scarsdale slated to open any day, and said I hoped she would join me there for a rematch, my senior friend gave a little whoop of delight. “Of course,” she said, “but I think it will have to be my shout.”
I”™m looking forward to it already. Stiff drinks, grown-up conversation and not a chicken nugget in sight. Let”™s hear it for our seniors this week. Indeed, let”™s hear it for our seniors every week.
For reservations, visit bistrodeville.com
