I’ve always wanted to pop into the resto next door. So one day, a rather uneventful day by weather standards, I just walked right into Gaspard, a kosher resto right by the immeuble. Convenient, non? kawan kawan. I just love it that in Paris, you can have a boucherie right down stairs from you where you can get the choicest cuts of boeuf and agneau, or a boulangerie two buildings away and if you are lucky, a good one at that so that you just can’t say ‘no!’ to a baguette on your way home. I digress….Gaspard…
It was nothing short of strange, I guess, for a bunch of Jewish men in their skull caps to see a Chinese girl waltzing into the restaurant at the height of the lunch hour. Fortunately, I was wearing a rather pretty top with my jeans, so at least I am assured that their stares weren’t because of me being in my joggers and Uggs (my usual school run attire). I was politely greeted by the maitre who gestured to the table by the entrance when I asked, ‘Il y a une place for une personne, sil vous plait?’ I don’t know if it was in grammatically correct French, but he understood me at least.
I ordered the pavé aux poivres – the peppered steak – accompanied by les haricots verts and the pureé a la maison. I wanted some red meat that day, hence, the steak, and I asked for it to be cooked à point which roughly translates to medium/rare-to-well-done. To the French, and this depends on the chef, à point is simply the word you use when you don’t want your meat too leathery or dripping in red jus. Now, I’ve had steak cooked à point where the middle is still blue and I’ve had à point where it’s really more done than medium rare. So, like I said, it all depends on who’s cookin’ the meat.
Gaspard’s steak was a little on the chewy side but their à point was as I like it, not too sanglant, bloody. However, a lot has to be said for kosher meat. This being my first morsel of it, I must say, it wasn’t my cup of tea – no offence intended. Perhaps because I am used to tasting the meatiness in the meat which I guess comes from not having to hang the meat to drip dry. Mais, Je ne sais pas. It’s really ‘boy pai’, kawan kawan but I wouldn’t dash back to Gaspard again in such a hurry.
I will put this down to another eating experience.