Whenever I think of the archetypal family-visit restaurant, Pierre Victoire comes straight to mind. It was not on such an occasion that I went back to Pierre Victoire last week, but on the return visit of a friend from their year abroad. At roughly £10 for a lunchtime menu, the price was ok, but a little on the expensive side. Since it was a relatively special occasion, this did not perturb me.
The décor makes a pretence of transporting you to some small rustic village in the Landes, with its extensive wood interior and over-used chalkboards with fl owers draped across them dotted around its three floors of prime Jericho real estate.
The lunch menu is good. There is plenty to choose from, with all the meals, from the onion soup to the cheeseboard sticking to the Gallic theme; they even off er a basket of baguette as standard with that classic French mistake: unsalted butter. Of course, this minor inconvenience is easily remedied by adding salt, so no marks lost for staying close to their French bistr(-insp)o. Having worked all morning on my dissertation, I certainly deserved the duck and calamari that I devoured there. My companion chose the duck as well, opting for chicken liver pâté to start.
The service was, as it should have been were we in France, relatively brusque, with waiters pretending not to listen as we gave our order. In any case, the meals came quickly, which always makes up for any air of arrogance on the part of the staff . My calamari, unlike the last time I had it at a takeaway in Brighton where it had all the texture and taste of rubber bands, melted in my mouth like butter; that it was covered in greasy batter was of no concern to me.
The pâté, that archetypal and paradigmatic French starter, was necessarily incredible; I certainly recommend that in future, even though the calamari was excellent. The duck confit was an improvement on an already grand lunch (being my favourite meal.) It was perfectly cooked, such that the duck fell apart with the slightest touch of the knife, with the outside remaining crispy. The potato rosti was also an interesting addition to the dish, given the scarcity of English restaurants which serve the Swiss’ claim-to-culinary-fame.
The jus was also perfectly cooked and did not split on its way from kitchen to table: the surest sign of culinary success. Since a sauce really makes the difference between a good French meal and an excellent one, I can only commend Pierre Victoire on their success. In and out in 55 minutes, only £7.50 lighter (and probably 7.50lb heavier), I was a satisfied customer.
