Eater's Digest

MIMI SHERATON

DINING WELL À LA FRANCAISE EN AMÉRIQUE

I have was a time when anyone who wanted a first-class French meal in the United States had to have it in New York. That is no longer true. As audiences in large cities became more sophisticated and willing to pay top

prices, French chefs were happy to bypass New York competition and take their talents elsewhere.

Le Castel

Le Castel in San Francisco is a case in point—a world-class French restaurant if ever there was one. Although it is well known locally, it is virtually unheard of nationally. Emile Waldteufel, the chef de cuisine, was off the night of my visit, but the meal prepared under the direction of the owner, Fritz Frankel, was close to perfection. The style here is nouvelle with classic overtones and Alsatian influences. Nowhere is that more apparent, or more successful, than in the main course called pigeonneau farci Paul Haeberlin. Named for the chef-partner of Auberge de l'lll, my favorite of France's three-star restaurants, that tender braised pigeon with its pungent stuffing of veal mousse was just possibly the best dish I've eaten in a year. Other superb items at Le Castel were the terrine of fish with a silken beurre blanc sauce, the warm marrow on toast, and the calves' brains with glossings of black butter. The stuffed leg of veal and the roast pork enhanced

by a fig-and-port-wine sauce were delicious, as were all of the pastries. The service was as beguiling as the food, and the whimsical decor, with its Arabian Nights motifs in Moorish arches and polychrome trim on the ceiling, lends a certain anachronistic charm. Dinner, including wine and tip, runs between forty-four and fifty-six dollars per person. (3235 Sacramento Street; 415-921-7115 or 415-921-7196.)

L'Orangerie

Gerard Ferry, the owner of L'Orangerie in Los Angeles, has managed to provide that rare combination of exquisite setting, wonderful food, and gracious service. Cool tiles, arched windows, and potted palms give his restaurant the airy stylishness implied by its name, and the food reflects a delicate blend of fashion and flavor. Sparkling first courses include a pate of roast duck liver with green peppercorns, quail-breast salad, scrambled eggs with caviar, tartare of salmon, and two magnificent soups—a lobster bisque and a satiny blend of mussels and crayfish with saffron and cream. The dish I prize above all others at L'Orangerie, where I've eaten several times, is the steamed chicken in a shallot-accented beurre blanc sauce that is stirred into a light-golden broth, rich with slivers of leeks and carrots. Only a little less exceptional are the medallions of veal with three mustards, the lamb fillet with creamed parsley, and the

sliced duck breast with green apples and Calvados. If you doubt that profiteroles with k°t chocolate sauce can be transcendent, try them here— that is, if you can resist the baked-to-order, thin apple tart or the fig tart with cassis sherbet. Dinner, including wine and tip, runs about sixty-five dollars per person. (903 North La Cienega Boulevard; 213-652-9770.)

Le Francais

The most unlikely setting for

I sssB an haute cuisine restaurant 8 KM has to be Wheeling, Illinois, 8 SSSB one hour from Chicago and twenty-five minutes from O'Hare Airport. But here we find Le Francais, presided kal over by owner-chef Jean Banchet, who through the years has produced extraordinary food, with only a few lapses, most notably in 1981, when he also ran a second restaurant in the middle of Chicago, and served as a consultant to the French Room of the Adolphus hotel in Dallas. He has since given up the Chicago restaurant, and Le Francais is now even better than I remembered it. There is a somewhat tiring show-and-tell performance by the captains, who describe and display each dish on the menu. Try to survive that and you'll be rewarded by such choices as the lovely salad of warm squab, mache, and walnut oil; the inspired terrines and pates of fish and meat; the sheer ravioli filled with sweetbreads and brightened with sorrel sauce; and the warm foie gras nested on green and red cabbage with a coriander sauce. Garlicky Lyons sausage with a truffleflecked sauce and soft-shell crabs pungent with capers are equally good. Of the main courses, few could top the braised bass with noodles in a basil cream or the roasted sweetbreads with endive. Breast of pheasant stuffed with a pheasant-and-truffle mousse proved a delectable alternative, and the saddle en croute with rack of lamb could not be improved upon. The only off notes were the beef toumedos covered with snails, a combination every bit as misbegotten as it sounds, and the roast pheasant, | which I could not taste because the cap* tain said the chef would cook it only | very rare, not medium as I requested. In that case, as far as I was concerned the chef could eat it. Pastries have never been strong points at Le Francais, but the astringent lemon tart and the puff pastry layered with raspberries and whipped cream were fine. Banchet's famed flourless chocolate cake seemed a bit heavier than usual, but his apple tart with a parchment-thin crust was better than ever. Dinner, including wine and tip, can run to one hundred dollars per person. There are, unfortunately, only two seatings, one too early, at 6:15, and another too late, at 9:30. (269 South Milwaukee Avenue; 312-541-7470.)

Jean-Louis

How good can nouvelle cuisine get? A dinner at Jean-Louis in Washington's Watergate Hotel proves it can be nothing short of superb. In an intimate supper-club setting, with a golden glow of light that instills a sense of well-being, you can marvel at some of the delicate but savory inventions of Jean-Louis Palladin, a native of France's Southwest. Memorable on my latest visit were a soup of scallops in a sheer cream of sweet red peppers and a subtle terrine of noodles with warm foie gras and truffles. Using American ingredients and adapting local dishes where possible, Palladin produces baked crab cakes with a touch of basil butter and an intriguing salad of barely warm shrimp with fresh hearts of palm and lacy greens. Tempting fate, I tried the sauteed duck liver with peaches and found the combination not only unsweet but piquant. Similarly, tender nuggets of lobster were livened by a few grains of caviar in the butter sauce. Soft cabbage absorbed the flavorful juices of roast guinea hen, and the wild mushrooms, girolles, lent their earthy richness to rosy noisettes of venison. Desserts are letdowns, one and all, but even so, a dinner at Jean-Louis is satisfying. There are three dinner plans here: sixty-five dollars per person for an assortment of three courses plus dessert, eighty dollars for four courses, and one hundred dollars for four courses with glasses of appropriate wines, all of which seemed second-rate. The eighty-dollar meal is the most interesting. (2650 Virginia Avenue NW; 202-298-4488.) □