Note: This review originally was published in the baiduhai on Nov. 12, 1993.
Look up the word bistro in the dictionary, and there ought to be a picture of Le Bouchon alongside it.
A classic at just five months, Le Bouchon embodies the bistro spirit in an altogether charming manner. The cooking is simple and hearty-French comfort food at its best-and prices are low. Moreover, there is a communal spirit at Le Bouchon, a sense of place and, even for occasional visitors, a sense of belonging.
Le Bouchon isn’t the best restaurant in town operating under the bistro label, but it may be the purest. Un Grand Cafe probably has better food, but it’s bigger and more bustling. Kiki’s Bistro has the bistro feel and no shortage of charm, but Kiki’s has culinary ambitions that extend well beyond bistro limits.
Le Bouchon didn’t have to wait long to be discovered. Chef/owner Jean-Claude Poilevey operated the late lamented bistro Jean Claude for many years before selling it and heading to the Bucktown neighborhood, taking over the shuttered Gavroche. A great many of the Jean Claude faithful have followed him here, with the result that every night is a busy night at Le Bouchon. Showing up without a reservation, even mid-week, entails the risk of being turned away. The restaurant seats only 40; a week ago Thursday, Poilevey served 106 people.
It’s remarkable, given the crowds, that Poilevey and company are so good about honoring reservations. In a place this small, it takes only one miscalculation or a couple of inconsiderate table-hoggers to throw everything into a cocked hat, but in general, things work the way they should.
Of course, one Saturday night there were several table-hoggers in attendance, making a shambles of the 8 p.m. seating. No restaurant owner can get away with saying this to customers, so I will: If you are finished with dinner at 8 p.m., and can see a dozen or more people crowding around the bar, take your third cup of coffee and your small talk somewhere else. That $11 entree price is not a down payment on the damn table, comprenez-vous?
There. I feel better.
If you ever ate at Jean Claude, you’ll recognize much of Le Bouchon’s menu. The signature appetizer, in fact, is the Jean Claude onion tart, a classic blend of crispy pastry and sweet carmelized onions. Delicious. Almost as good is the special of sauteed wild mushrooms under an oversized crouton.
Heartier appetites should steer toward specials such as saucisson or, when offered, delicious rilletes of duck arranged around a pile of frise e splashed with raspberry vinaigrette.
Lentil soup is the perfect prescription for a bitter cold night, a hearty broth well-stocked with still-chewy lentils. The potage St. Germain comes off as a pedestrian split-pea soup by comparison.
House salad is straightforward and good, but the salad Lyonnaise is a star. Mixed greens, croutons, plenty of sinful lardons-and on top, a poached egg. You break the egg and mix the yolk in and make a mental note to feel guilty later. If it makes you feel better, split the salad with someone else; it’s certainly large enough.
Steak with frites, that definitive bistro entree, is in fine form here; we got a good-sized butt steak, cooked exactly medium rare, and the flavor was excellent. The fries were good, too, though they could have been a touch crispier.
But the menu offers much more. Hunter-style rabbit is a fabulous dish; the rabbit has real character, full-flavored and substantial with a rich chasseur sauce, above a generous portion of bowtie pasta. Thyme-scented guinea hen is another treat, served with a natural jus accented with potatoes, mushrooms, pearl onions and lardons.
Good specials include tenderloin tips, tender and juicy in a luscious sauce dotted with perfumy morel mushrooms; and seared red bass, served on a bed of ratatouille-not a classic ratatouille, but a julienne of those vegetables lightly sauteed in olive oil and garlic.
However hearty the entrees, it would be a mistake to skip dessert. Chocolate marquis, served with espresso creme anglaise, is soothing and satisfying. Crispy fruit tarts, whether apple or some combination of fruits, are delicious. There also is a very light poached pear, served with a judicious bit of Grand Marnier sabayon.
And if you have a bit of wine left over, you may opt for a cheese plate, three or four solid cheeses served with crispy apple slices.
The wine selection is worthy of a bistro, full of young reds and crispy whites. There are a couple of premium bottles, but mostly the list is low-priced, with a good number of bottles less than $20.
We encountered just a few missteps along the way. Escargots arrived curiously cool to the touch. The toast served with the duck rillettes was badly overdone. A little extra time under the broiler had made the ceramic container holding the creme brulee scorchingly hot, which we learned the hard way. And on two occasions a waitress arrived to take our order, only then realizing she had neglected to present the list of specials.
Le Bouchon, which literally means “the button” but also is a term used for bistros in Poilevey’s native Lyon, is decorated simply but prettily. Cream colored walls are hung with framed photographs, some depicting the French countryside, others of Paris markets. The overly tall walls end at a pressed-tin ceiling, also cream colored. A small bar midway in the restaurant will seat a handful of people. It used to be drafty by the front door, but Poilevey recently installed a partition that reduces this problem greatly.
If you are sensitive to cigarette smoke, Le Bouchon is not for you. Half the restaurant is given to nonsmokers, but the line of demarcation is effectively imaginary.
If you miss Jean Claude, you’ll love Le Bouchon. The location is more accessible, there’s plenty of parking (lots of street spots, and Le Bouchon also has an adjoining parking lot that’ll hold perhaps 10 cars) and Poilevey’s cooking is as good as ever.
Rating: 2 stars
Le Bouchon, 1958 N. Damen Ave., 312-862-6600.