Pate and Rillette
For starters, we ordered the pate and rillette ($24). The pate was buttery yet not overly oily, bearing testament to the care and effort invested into the dish. Like a ballerina, it pirouetted (no teetering here) across the fine divide between being lusciously unctuous and cringe-inducing creamy. Furthermore, the duck rillette was flavourful with a tang of salt and yet, unlike others that I had tasted before (e.g. the one at Bistro du Sommelier), it took care not to be overly brackish. All in all, the pate and rillette was quite a good starter that diners should sample when visiting Bistro du Vin.
Next up was a seasonal dish of mussels in white wine sauce ($20). On one hand, the amount of garlic and salt in the gravy was well-controlled, and the dish stood out when juxtaposed against similar dishes at other establishments (even well-known ones like Brussels Sprouts). However, the mussels were rather miniscule, reminiscent of the oompa-loompas from Willy Wonka's chocolate factory in comparison with the average man.
I am from the land of Lilliputian labyrinths..
For the mains, we had the veal blanquette with mushroom, pickled onion and rice ($33) (which we replaced with mashed potato) as well as the beef cheek braised in red wine,
carrot, mushroom, pearl onion, bacon & mashed potato ($33). The former was decent as the cream sauce was rich and yet, not exceedingly heavy on the palate. Unfortunately, the veal was too tough for my liking, making the dish rather prosaic (it's a malapropism, but please allow me some creative licence as a writer!) and pedestrian. The latter, however, had a diametrically opposing problem. While the meat of the beef cheek was beautifully succulent and tender, the gravy was of an appalling salinity that left my tastebuds reeling in shock.
Veal
A Microcosm of the Dead Sea
The mains marked the end of our little food overture, as we did not have sufficient gastric capacity for dessert. On another note, ambience-wise, the interior is quite cosy and good for a gathering with friends. Nevertheless, diners should note that Bistro du Vin can get rather noisy in the evening, what with the incessant chatter and boisterous revelry of other patrons. Hence, should one be looking to enjoy some quiet time, he might wish to consider dining at other establishments or paying Bistro du Vin a visit in the afternoon instead.
In the final analysis, Bistro Du Vin offers decent French food and above-average service. While the food at Bistro du Vin may not be fantastic, it exerts an inexplicable and enigmatic pull on me, tethering me back to make return visits time and again.
One thing that puzzles me about French restaurants here is how bad their names are. Many of them claim to be foreign trained, and some are actually foreign owned, so why do they not put in a little bit more effort into their names? So, the name of Bistro du Vin has always put me off. I've eaten at Bistrot du Sommelier once before however, and I was wondering why I should be excited about the food when it is named for someone who doesn't do the food. The rillette at the Sommelier they claim to be home made, so they might be rather liberal with the salt to prevent food poisoning, and to keep longer.
ReplyDeleteI also find French restaurants here feeling great pressure to do everything associated with French cuisine, and so you end up with a really odd array of dishes. I don't think you would find mussels in a restaurant together with blanquette de veau, so, you know what they say about Jack of all trades.
What you've said is very true indeed - I have had the same sentiments for a while regarding the names of French restaurants being very bland. The name "Bistro du Vin" doesn't stand out and isn't really a namesake either, as from what I know, BdV isn't famous for their wines (please correct me if I'm wrong). Similarly, Bistrot du Sommelier was a puzzling one for me as well, and on another note, I didn't really enjoy the food save for the pork.
ReplyDeleteAs for local French restaurants in general, I agree that they're under pressure to conform to Singaporeans' notion of what French food should be, but perhaps, dishes that stick out like sore thumbs have been included for commercial purposes, i.e. because they appeal to the Singaporean palate. As we all know, mussels have been gaining in popularity, especially after all that hype about Brussels Sprouts' mussels in white wine sauce (which I find not really to my liking). Hence, I find that it could be possible that such out-of-place dishes have been included for the abovementioned purposes, and it's also interesting to note that amongst all the seasonal dishes at Bistro du Vin, the mussel dish was the first to be sold out.
Yes, and the worst naming offender of all is Les Amis, followed by Au Petit Salut: they're not even trying! Meanwhile in France, you have lovely names like La Corne d'Or, or Le Chasse Spleen. And yes, I don't know why in Singapore they are so obsessed with the word Bistro, when they most certainly do not charge Bistro prices!
DeleteI had my first moules frites in Paris in the winter, and fleeing the cold streets to the steam redolent of the sea rising out of the seemingly bottomless pots of moules was very nearly spiritual an experience. So all my moules frites experiences since then have been proofed to that standard, and it's been impossible to match. That said, it's not that hard to make decent moules, and mussels are very cheap at Cold Storage. When you go off to study, you will learn to cook!
Oh yes, and moules frites are Belgian, and for evidence I adduce Asterix chez les Belges. Bouillabaisse is more characteristically Mediterranean French, and it's not yet been sighted here.
Haha wow, the names of establishments in France are lovely indeed! What's nice is that they come across as being elegant without putting on a meretricious front. Regarding bouillabaise, I beg to differ that the dish hasn't been sighted here yet - they have it at Bistro du Vin and at Waterloo Times, though I'm not sure how authentic their renditions are.
ReplyDeleteI just looked up pictures of the bouillabaise at Bistro du Vin, and it most definitely is not the sort you would get along the Mediterranean coast. They like to call the dish Provençal, centred around Marseille, but I've had it much farther west (and much better, but that's not an opinion I dare say loud in front of people from Marseille!). Traditionally, they boil down five different kinds of fish, and in a slightly fancier place they sieve out the ingredients (the way Cantonese drink their soup) and serve you the broth with bread which you rub raw garlic on. I still remember the chef miming the motion to us with our next-to-nothing French. So, if you see bits floating inside that's not it. The Bistro du Vin version looks more like an Italian zuppe di pesce.
DeleteThe week I was staying by the coast that winter, I had it nearly every night, and we even did a takeaway which was served in one of those buckets that held industrial mayonnaise in its previous incarnation. All the fish and bones and bits were left inside. It was messy and great!