I have been lucky enough to be going to Nice regularly over the last fifteen years. I love the place, it's a 'real' city unlike some of it's more illustrious neighbors.
I have enjoyed many great lunches and dinners over that time particularly at La Petite Maison, despite the rather prickly madame who owns the place. Peppered steak with greens beans and potato puree at Petite maison is quite spectacular(of Racine like proportions), as is their roast chicken stuffed with foie Gras, oh and their white chocolate mouse, heavy duty full on rather delicious rich french cuisine.
A couple of years back I began the search in Nice for a less 'flouncy', more down to earth restuarant where I could eat a more basic style of provencal/nicoise cooking. I remembered this little place I had stumbled past one drunken evening quite some time ago and decided to go back and investigate. All I could recall was it seemed french, it looked tiny and the menu was concise.
So off to the flower market I trotted, quite pleased I was able to recall the general vicinity of the restaurant. It was very early evening I remember, not long after seven. I pushed open the door and there it was, the tiniest restaurant I had ever stepped into. About thirty seats all crammed together, and even at this very young and tender evening service hour it was nigh on packed and buzzing. Luckily there was just enough space for my companion and myself.
The young man who greeted us and assisted the tricky manouvre into our seats was polite and cool. He re-appeared at the table quite sharpishly with a little black board and ran us through the menu. It was exactly what I was looking for(due to the fact Nice was once part of Italy there are heavy Italian influences in the local cuisine); to start there was stuffed sardines, ham, a little home made pizza, onion tart. For main courses a beef stew, tripe, sausages and lentils, homemade pasta with pistou, a gutsy french sausage made with offal, a pungent air dried fish preparation called stockfish. There were two wine choices.
I ordered pizza and the tripe to follow.
The wine arrived quickly, as if by magic, it was excellent and very local.
I then started to observe the set up and it became clear I was in somewhere quite special. At the back of the restaurant was the chef, calmness personified, cooking, tasting, watching his audience. He was, like his trusty front of house dressed in a cool, earthy denim overall........little things. The kitchen hardware was high quality, copper pans, a fantastic looking stove dominating his 'workshop'. The interior of the place oozed quality, really interesting pieces of art adorned the little walls, hessian draping from the ceiling. Bold provencal vase's on a couple of tables packed with beautiful flowers. The crockery was cute as too the bizarrely, kind of vintage 'disney-esq' water glasses, it was quirkly in a quality way. I was fascinated.
The little pizza arrived, a 'bready' pizza I must say but that kind of fitted the bill. It tasted excellent, what I noticed most of all was the intesity of the tomato and and brightness of the herbs on it. Next tripe, Nice style. This was so delicious, melting, giving and unctuous after very slow cooking. It had a slight piquancy. It was served with a 'panisse' as was my dining partners beef stew. I have since grown to adore 'panisse', it is a kind of fritter made from chickpea flour. At La Merenda it is used all the time. This particular dinner finished with a perfect disc of goats cheese smothered in beautiful olive oil, simplicity. Good nicoise olive oil is awe inspiring stuff.
Once the evening was over, engulfed with the charm of the place, I returned to my hotel room and started searching the internet for information about La Merenda and the story is a beautiful one. It revolves around Dominic Le Stanc, a two michelin starred chef who left behind the pomp and ceremony of the Chantecler at the Negresco and bought the little jewell about ten years ago. He had clearly had enough of souffles and reductions and wanted to cook paired down, real nicoise food.
I go back each and every time I visit Nice now and I have to say it offers the most charming eating experience each time. Dominic and his fantastic front of house assistance from his wife at lunch time, and the 'cool' chap in the evenings are always friendly and warm. I have been through the preverbial 'card' menu wise; sometimes something new pops in, I was there last week and they excitedly explained to me about these special raw small fish they had in, of course I had to order them, as a pre starter on toast, and it was magnificent. The beef stew is fantastic as is the andouilette but my favorite combination seems to have settled on either stuffed sardines or pizza to start followed by the tripe, sprinkled heavily with cheese. There is always a beautiful sweet tart to finish with if required.
I believe it is a truly unique restaurant due to its size and purity of the menu and food it offers. Don't get me wrong its not food that is going to blow you away, it is simple, home cooked, locally sourced regional fare produced with meticulous care and love. It is the sort of restaurant that should exist everywhere but doesn't. It is my (pipe)dream to be the chef/patron of such an establishment. London's closest comparable restaurant would be the magical Giaconda dining room.
I wanted to show you a copy of the card from La Merenda to finish with but alas I have lost it; it has a fun little painting reproduced on it then in french it says;
'La Merenda, lunch 12-3, dinner 7-10, no telephone, no reservations, closed on Saturday and Sunday.' It is closed for most of August.
You see La Merenda is run by Dominic and to suit Dominic, that's why it works. That's why it is always fresh, consistant and alive.
All I can say is long may it live, it's bloody marvellous.
La Merenda
4 Rue Raoul Bosio
Nice
I had been to Racine on two previous occasions to this and had been mightily impressed. It is a 'proper' restaurant, solid, neat and excellent. Fortunately these visits did not coincide with chef/patron Henry Harris's transfer to the soho house group, he was back at Racine by the time I walked of Brompton Road into what I would describe now as a little piece of food heaven.
It was with delight then that I attended the inaugural Steak Frites event superbly put together by Henry(@racine_kitchen), Daniel(@youngandfoodish) and Dino(@Gastro1). Not forgetting family O'shea (@osheasbutchers) who supplied the magnificent beef.
The evening started with an introduction by Daniel and a fascinating explanation from Henry as to why he chooses to source his beef from O'sheas and why it is SO GOOD! Henry is one of those speakers who mesmerises you, his passion and knowledge for food seeping out of him like the melting fat in one of his Cote de Boeuf's as he teases it around a hot butter laden skillet. Marvellous stuff.
With the introductions over the eating began; first up onglet, shallots, spring garlic and bone marrow on toast. All I can say about this dish is sensational. I love onglet but this was the best piece of onglet I have ever eaten, period. That deep liverish flavour flying at your taste buds, it can be tough, this was tender and beautiful. The wine reduction, shallots, garlic and bone marrow made it a death row dish. Around the room, there were moans and groans of delight in between the gulping of a very fine and delightfully matched Morgon beaujolais. What a start, what a hard act to follow.....
I think that the group that night was slightly fortunate in that this was a second time around for 'team steak frites', a dry run with the powers that be had already taken place. As Henry explained for our second dish, fillet with a potato and blue cheese puree, he altered the cooking process and instead of individually dealing with a piece of filet for each diner, he took the middle section of a chateaubriand, coated in a thick layer of peppercorns, then cooked as a piece and sliced. (One great tip Henry gave us was sieving the black peppercorns when crushed. It is the dust from the crushing that burns, when removed it allows proper caramalisation and creates a perfect crust) The resulting dish was again spectacular. It was perhaps the weak link on paper that evening, however I think Henry holds a shining light for peppered fillet, possibly why it was so brilliant; the perfectly rare melting fillet, a wonderful cheesey potato puree and rich reduction, my god it was good. A Santa Cristina Antiniori again a prefect, fruity wine match. The second dish in my opinion had lived up to the first.
So onto the third, the famous O'sheas Cote de boeuf. One has to say it was in a terribly disadvantaged position coming up after two such wonderful plates of food. It was served with a green leaf and shallot salad, chips and bearnaise. It was actually my third favorite of the evening. The beef was good, not the best Cote de boeuf I have had. As Henry explained cuts off different beasts will vary, it's no science. The chips were fine and the bearnaise very good indeed. I ate everything that had been put in front of me. Again the wine matching worked, a happy and gutsy Cote du Rhone partnered the Cote du boeuf.
To finish, vanilla ice cream with a pot of melting Valrhona chocolate sauce and some very fine biscuits. Once again Henry stepped in with an explanation as to why Valrhona, 72% cocoa apparantly. Not only were we eating magical food but we were being educated. Lucky us.
So for me, in terms of the beef, my order of favorites were; one(onglet), two(fillet), three(Cote de boeuf)......or was it a two, one, three....uurrrggg.
It was a most fantastic evening. The cooking, the beef, the organisation and the company were an absolute joy.
I will go back to Racine very soon, probably for a weekday lunch, knowing that I can dive accross the road afterwards to O'sheas and purchase some onglet for dinner. A win double of the highest order.
five out of five stars
Racine
239 Brompton Road
London
SW3 2EP
'Eating aioli should be an emotional experience, it is strong but that is it's role in life', Fergus Henderson Nose To Tail Eating.
There are many different takes on how aioli should be, what strength, made with egg yolks or not, for me, like Fergus it must be strong and an egg yolk really helps to hold the sauce together. Purists would disagree about the use of an egg yolk. That said aioli is not a garlic mayonnaise, it is aioli and that is why it must be strong, to distinguish itself.
Aioli is a wonderful compliment to virtually everything, fish, fowl, meat, vegetables, the list is endless. A condiment that adds quality and substance and indeed verve to meals, it has amazingly uplifting qualities, it has punch and fight. It's not for the feint hearted.
I like to use a good quality extra virgin olive oil in the preparation, I enjoy the bitterness it offers the final taste. After many years of making it, below is what I feel, through trial and error, a winning recipe.
A good tub of strong aioli, enough for a barbecue party with friends.
A bottle of extra virgin olive oil, you will make up your own mind when to stop pouring.
10-12 cloves of garlic peeled
Maldon Salt
Egg yolk at room temperature
Touch of Dijon Mustard(also room temperature)
Good squeeze of a lemon
Pepper, white better for appearance.
Start by laying your garlic gloves on a board, or in a pestle and mortar, sprinkle with Maldon salt and crush. Have a good go at this, work the pungent little magnolia crescent moons into submission! I like to then pass this pounded garlic through an appropriate sieve with a wooden spoon, this will take a fair bit of effort but is emphatically worth it, the result will be an excellent puree. Place this puree in a mixing bowl and add the egg yolk, touch of mustard and mix with a whisk. Now for the slightly tricky bit. Add at first a small stream of oil and thoroughly whisk making sure it is emulsified, and then repeat with another smallish stream. Once you are sure these first pours of oil are well emulsified you can up the ante. Steadily pouring the oil in and whisking. In the case of seperation of the mixture you can add another egg yolk, this should help emulsify again. When you are happy with the consistency and quantity of your aioli it is done. Add some lemon juice(very important adds great balance to the strong garlic) and pepper and check taste. It should have enough salt from the innitial stage. I like it quite thick but still with some fluidity. You can always add some water to loosen a bit if required.
So now my favorite summer barbecue lunch that requires aioli, sunshine and chilled beaujolais for a perfect afternoon;
Quail, pork, chorizo, quinoa and aioli
Quail, enough for a half a bird each at least(marinaded in oil, lemon, garlic, salt and pepper)I like to run a knife down their back bone and remove the breast with leg, less fiddly to eat.
Chorizo's, the cooking type from Brindisa, enough for a couple of sections each.
Pork Loin (rolled and boned) sliced into little steaks, marinaded with the quail.
Quinoa, about half a box, washed thoroughly, then a good covering of salted water added, bought to boil and simmered for about 15 mins. The water should cook out, allow to cool.(Make sure it's dried out, you don't want soggy quinoa).
Parsley, anchovy, capers, mint all chopped together.
A polite but small gesture of very thinly sliced shallot.
Then all you need is a hot barbecue. None of the elements need a lot of cooking, the chorizo the longest so start there. Be careful not to overcook the pork particularly. The quail have decent fat content so do not dry our easily, three or four minutes a side will do it with a nice rest off the direct heat.
Mix the chopped herbs, anchovy, capers and shallot through the cooked, dried out quinoa, season with some pepper, it's probably salty enough but adjust if necessary. Maybe dress with some oil and a tad of lemon juice.
Give everyone half a quail, some hearty sections of the cooked chorizo and a slice of the pork loin, accompanied by the herby quinoa. A rocket salad would not go amiss. Put the tub of aioli on the table and let your guests delve in.
Almost an ode to Summer.
