Over the past few years, my wanton palate has been tickled and teased by the sommeil érotique of French cuisine…by way of Oklahoma, of course.
Sure, I would like to go to France someday (anybody need a sponsored travelogue, per chance?) but, until that time, I have been remotely spoiled by their luxurious culinary offerings, idly daydreaming of all the pastries, cheeses and fabled horse-meat awaiting me across an ocean.
Thankfully, that delicate cuisine was on full display when I treated my wife to a birthday indulgence at one of the city’s most romantic tables, Le Parisien, 440 NW 11th St., just ahead of Valentine’s Day.
Although it’s not on the Champs-Élysées, Le Parisien is situated on the block where many of Midtown’s top restaurants thrive, inside the sprawling former Café Do Brasil space. As the sun began to set, the city was coming to life and our five o’clock reservation was ready for us.
Seating procured, as our waitperson gave us our menus and took our drink orders, I mentioned that it was my wife’s birthday and discreetly inquired about any special desserts or the like to mark this momentous night.
She told me she thought she could arrange something, so I kept my fingers crossed…
As I looked around at the classical airs about this place, my wife told me that Le Parisien felt less like a posh eatery and more like a well-to-do bistro, offering French meats and cheeses but with more Okie pomp and circumstance.
A few moments later, our server brought our drinks. Of course, being the teetotaler, I had a Diet Coke, but, in celebration of her birth, my wife had a glass (or two) of Kir Royal ($12.00), featuring crème de cassis and sparkling wine.
We kicked things off with an appetizer, the Breakfast Radish ($15.00), served with beurre fromage. A spread of well-seasoned French butter and cheese – some of the best – comes served with hot, fresh garlic toast points and fresh radish slices.
Now, to be fair, I really wasn’t interested in the whole radish thing. That being said, my wife was telling me I had to try the creamy cheese and butter spread with the radish and, you know what, it was pretty good!
As I downed another round of toast, our entrees arrived.
While I seriously thought about continuing my bougie streak and trying the Canard à l'Orange for dinner, my dumb American impulses came out and instead I got the Parisian Burger ($26.00) – primarily so I could say I ate a $26 burger.
Overall, it was lavishly simple – churched up with an in-house ground beef blend layered with pub cheese, pickled caramelized onion, heirloom tomato jam, and foie gras aioli.
Although I'm not sure any burger is worth $26, this is one was good. The sesame-seeded bun worked well with mouthwatering beef, and the combination of pub cheese and caramelized onion pairs was truly succulent. Even so, I found myself already wishing I’d ordered the Canard à l’Orange, a regret I’ll have to correct next time.
But forget about my edible problems, because it was my wife’s blessed night and she had one of her French favorites in front of her, the Moules Frites ($26.00). It was a true delicacy, served in a small pot with PEI mussels coated in garlic, herbs, and white wine.
With a little crème fraiche and whole grain Dijon, it was a true marvel of world cuisine! The steamed mussels were swimming in the most divine broth and had her devouring the whole pot, with a piece of crusty toast to sop up all the remaining goodness.
Accompanying both of our meals, the frites were a supporting player, to be sure, but award-worthy in their own right – perfectly crispy matchsticks served with a savory housemade garlic aioli. We happily munched on them as we made our way through the meal.
To my wife, this was more than an extraordinary birthday meal! C'était un repas sexy à se souvenir!
As I waited to ask our server for the dessert menu, I assumed my special request had been forgotten in the flotsam of the evening. Then, off to my side, I noticed the flickering flame of a candle attached to her most treasured dessert: a bread pudding in the style of Crêpes Suzette, crowned with a perfect scoop of vanilla ice cream.
I mouthed the words “Thank you!” to our server as my wife blew out the candle, and we shared the exceptional dessert. As I looked at the bill, I noticed the dessert had been comped, and that really made me feel special as a customer and, in this piecemeal world, as a human being. Thank you.
Walking out to the car hand-in-hand – our hearts and our bellies full of the best French cuisine around – we noticed that on the outside corner of Le Parisien, a glowing red heart was formed in the shrubbery, giving a real seal to this perfect night.
Thinking it was total kismet, I gave my wife a passionate kiss. Pretty good for a boy from Oklahoma, don't you think?
Achète-le maintenant!
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
