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	Meat quality Meat preparation Sauce Frites Garnishes Sides

Club Francés
Rodriguez Peña 1832 PB
Buenos Aires
Argentina
Tel: 4815-7220
 

After several failed meals, such as the Opera Bay and others that didn’t even merit a write-up, and perhaps a little home sick for France, I headed off to the nearby Le Coq Bleu. Seeing a French menu with Spanish subtitles was certainly a new but welcomed experience. When I walked in the door, I was worried I might be in a private club. There was a severe looking doorman and a lounge with leather chairs and a fireplace, but he assured me it was open to the público.

The first thing I noticed was the ambience. It didn’t quite pull off old world Europe, but from what I’ve seen in Buenos Aires, it was a pretty good try, and the service was impeccable: formal without being stiff, friendly without being familiar.

I started off with the house paté. If paté is the poor cousin of foie gras, this was not some ne’er-do-well living in a trailer, but the character everyone secretly prefers to visit. The warm bread and tart onions complemented the paté perfectly. The salad was a little tired, but acceptable.

As I started the entrée, the chef made his first appearance. I couldn’t tell if the waiters had noticed my sly pictures of the meal and deduced my true purpose, but after the first shot I had exquisite service. I complemented him on the paté, and he seemed thrilled that one of his patrons could even attempt French.

The entrée had been such a success I eagerly anticipated the main course. I was not disappointed. A perfect cut of meat perfectly cooked arrived with a wine reduction sauce simmered with shallots (I added some pepper to meet the technical requirements). On the side were three three-dimensional French fries which looked remarkably like mini-versions of Captain Picard’s nemesis the Borg, but I turned the tables and assimilated them. The same texture of crust and interior as a normal fry, expect in square form, they were truly a novel experience and exceptional. My only concern was that there didn’t appear to be enough sauce to last out the meal, though I could see that any more would have ruined the presentation. As if sensing the concern of a true connoisseur, the chef arrived halfway through the meal to offer more sauce. The ability to fulfill the parameters of the formal while also understanding the unconstrained desires of the corporeal truly achieved higher fulfillment than the more refined equivalents in France.

Though I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t leave without trying the Mousse au Chocolate. Again, the adjustment of the form to satisfy the appetite was commendable. Four perfect helpings of delicious mousse were distributed with four sauces: nut, caramel, strawberry, and orange peel, with chocolate sauce as the barrier between the quadrants. Where but in Argentina could you get chocolate sauce on your chocolate mousse? or even caramel sauce? Very impressive.

The suspicion that my cover was blown increased when the bill arrived along with a delightful glass of champagne compliments of the chef. But even if the level of service increased, it was clear that the food was standard. With a total bill of $33, why live anywhere else?

(Sorry for the blur on the photographs—I was trying to be discrete.)

Submitted by DO Jr.
October 21, 2005