I polled the Old Guy’s Lunch Symposium members about where to go for our monthly lunch. Crickets. Then Bob Berendt took leadership and suggested Le Chat Noir. An excellent choice.
I reviewed a lunch at Le Chat Noir once before (and dinner once). In the course of a positive lunch review I noted in passing that I’d once had a bad meal there 30 or 40 years ago, and that they used to serve their merguez on a brioche bun. Really, they once did. Usually people say that my reviews are insufficiently critical, that I like everything. I do admit to adding something to dishes I feel need improvement, and I admit not reviewing places I don’t like unless for high crimes. Oddly, I received a storm of criticism from fans of Le Chat Noir for noting I’d had some off meals there decades before, and, more recently, was delighted they’d corrected faults I’d noted in the past. It was a refreshing change and I appreciated it. I like balance in my life.
We gathered at 4907 Wisconsin, right next to Cafe of India, then entered and, pretty promptly for us, ordered. Marc chose a Salade Nicoise, a mix of grilled tuna, hardboiled egg, greens, tomato, bell peppers, cucumber, green beans, potato, olives, onion, and anchovies.” And cucumber.
Isn’t that pretty? I love a good Salade Nicoise, and a pain bagnat even more, if you know where I can get one in the area.. And that’s a nice piece of fresh tuna — something you don’t get everywhere. Marc noted that the tuna did not come rare as he had requested.
Indeed it did not. Marc then noted that a piece of tuna of those dimensions would be hard to cook rare, and attacked his meal with gusto.
Bob chose a Croque Madame, a croque monsieur with an egg, naturally enough.
Isn’t it amazing what a fried egg can do? Bob had loved the sandwich last time and praised it once again. Meanwhile, Frank went with a merguez sausage, the sandwich I’d praised earlier.
The sausage was graced with Dijon mustard, harissa, and feta, and came on a good baguette. That’s a great sandwich.
I’d had merguez sausage on my last couple of lunches at Le Chat Noir but this time decided to broaden my horizons. Ken had ordered one with a salad and I opted for the same thing — and specifically asked for a salad rather than fries to go with it in light of a recent Cincinnati Roadfood Crawl in which I’d hit 24 restaurants (often very lightly) in three days.
My sandwich — (Ken’s was identical except that mine arrived with fries).
I took that as a Sign. The server apologized and said he’d go back and replace it with a salad and I responded that he’d have to pull the fries from my cold dead hands, or words to that effect. I believe in Signs. They’re always spot on and, curiously enough, they are always fattening. The fries were delicious, the sort of fries you get in Belgium or France, with a delicately crisp exterior and a puffy potato tasting interior.
Oh, yes. The sandwich.
This is not a shout-at-you sandwich, like those four-burger monsters or the grossly overstuffed deli sandwiches. Like other French sandwiches, it’s almost minimalist in the same way that the barbecue sandwiches are at the Dixie Pig. “It’s like Amazing Grace and Loretta Lynn: utterly without pretense, without guile.” Think of a jambon beurre. Bread, a slice or two of ham, and butter. Wonderful.
And one thing I especially like about French sandwiches is that the bread is the star. That only works, of course, when the bread is fabulous, when it has a good crust and a lot of the air holes that mark great French bread. Then also the ingredients are flavorful enough to stand up to the bread. Great bread, a slice of ham that tastes like ham, some good brie, and cornichons. That is a wonderful combination.
The hits just keep coming at Le Chat Noir. Go there for lunch. Go there for dinner. If they start serving breakfast, please let me know.
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