Stuffed in the city

There’s a lot to be said for living in the country: a detached house, a view of Mont Blanc, a garden with enough space for ping pong and parties, off-street parking for two cars – two cars that are in their element on the nearby twisty roads. Life isn't bad.

But once in a while Monsieur Gourmand and I miss the meals out we used to have before moving out of town.

One of our local restaurants in those days, L’Esquisse, recently beckoned us back with the promise of good food, unfussily served on its summertime pavement terrace.

Perusing the menu with a glass of rosé, I quickly made up my mind while Monsieur Gourmand asked about the specials. Of course, “specials” aren’t so much special as what the restaurant needs to sell so, while the waitress made the veal shepherd’s pie-style main sound marvellous, it turned out to be way too hearty for the summer heat.

Unsurprisingly, Monsieur Gourmand was stuffed, despite his comparatively light carpaccio starter.

I started with coeur de boeuf tomatoes (for those not in the know, these are the biggest, tastiest tomatoes you can find away from the Med) with pesto and burrata (the creamiest, most fiendish form of mozzarella known to man) before devouring two fillets of fresh, fleshy bream.

After a cooling raspberry sorbet and an irresistible home-made meringue with whipped cream and berries, we made our way through Eaux-Vives, along to the lake and back to the car.

Maybe it’s time to revisit some other old haunts? 

L’Esquisse, rue du Lac 7, 1207 Genève

+41 (0)22 786 5044; www.lesquisse.com

 

 

Saucy Sicilian

Bounding along the lakeside path on his evening run, there was no mistaking the buff physique and leonine locks of Dario, eponymous owner of the eatery Monsieur Gourmand and I had visited the night before.

In a town where most restaurateurs could do with a stint at charm school, Dario's approach is rather refreshing. Yes, he will probably have run out of most things on the menu and you'll have to wait a while for his attention, but any disappointment is short-lived: in a jiffy he'll be calling you by name, plying you with wine and recommending another dish that somehow sounds so much better than what you wanted.

On our first visit, I arrived grumpy but left happy, having eaten a plate of deliciously creamy fresh burrata with rocket leaves and a dollop of honey, followed by swordfish piled high with tomatoes and olives. In truth, the sauce overpowered the natural flavour and texture of the fish, but it seems that heaviness is a feature of Sicilian cooking (they also do a hearty aubergine and parmesan bake and some truffle-laden pasta dishes).

The warm interior décor of burnt orange walls, tiled tables and wrought-iron chairs reflects Sicily's proximity to north Africa, but outside is the place to be, where Dario works the pavement tables, keeping the locals coming back for more of his Italian tastiness and infectious joie de vivre.

Dario's, rue de Montchoisy 4, Eaux-Vives
+41 (0)22 700 7507; www.darios.ch

Chocolate salvation

Everything in my life was hunky dory until recently, when an incompetent and irresponsible person – who shall remain nameless – ruined everything.

As a so-called professional, he could have been expected to do his job properly. Surely if you’re good at one thing in life, it should be your job. It is, after all, what you spend most of your waking hours doing, and it is how you describe yourself when meeting people for the first time.

The same goes for restaurants, particularly if they claim to serve a ‘speciality’; customers expect it to be good.

I had fancied a bite at Bistrot du Boucher in Eaux-Vives for quite a while; not only is it always reassuringly full, but the bovine motif on the window and the butcher reference in the name suggest a superior steak.

The meaty theme continues inside where waiters dash from table to table in fetching cow-print ties, while a quick peer into the men’s loos reveals a fascinating photo of a bull’s testicles. (No udders in the ladies’ though, I’m afraid.)

After such a promising prelude, the tough, tasteless entrecôte came as a bit of a shock. Normally a steak needs nothing more than a little moutarde, but this one really required something more to lift the lacklustre flavour – what a shame the three bland sauces all tasted the same...

It was only when the devilish display of desserts was wheeled to our table that we realised Bistrot du Boucher’s true forte. Having shunned both the tasty-looking tarte tatin and pear pastry, Monsieur Gourmand opted for a chunk of chocolatey decadence with an intense depth of flavour and a smooth, buttery consistency. I cursed the calories in each fiendish forkful but couldn’t resist devouring more and more.

Nevertheless, despite this mouthwateringly memorable finale – not to mention unusually efficient service and apéritifs on the house – the fact remains that a delicious dessert does not a good steak make.

Bistrot du Boucher, 15 Avenue Pictet de Rochemont, 1205 Genève

022 736 5636

Delicious drama

At Little Bay, an unassuming south London restaurant, first-time diners are always astounded when the resident opera singer bursts into song. The décor is similarly dramatic – dark reds and golds evoke London’s traditional theatres – while ladders lead to the most sought-after tables for dress circle devotees.


This was the image I had in mind while walking to L’Opéra Bouffe, an Eaux-Vives eatery named after the burlesque style of entertainment pioneered by Jacques Offenbach in 19th century Paris. The reality was quite different, however: not an opera singer in sight and the food was fabulous.


Our round table reflected the shape of the enormous mirror, which allows wall-facing diners to soak up the surroundings without craning their necks. The dim light of table lamps brings burlesque to mind, while cherubic carvings and a miniature proscenium perched on the bar reinforce the theatrical theme.


For the ‘preludio’, we ordered two plates of flavoursome foie gras with crispy pieces of toast to share. More adventurous eaters might like to sample a slice of black pudding, sweetly balanced by red onion compote and caramelised apples, or perhaps half a dozen oysters.


Slightly baffled by the florid French menu, I ordered something containing polenta, aubergines and duck as my ‘intermezzo’. Monsieur Gourmand went for blanquette de veau comme autrefois - crudely translated as ‘blanket of veal from another time’ - a description that was too intriguing to turn down...

The time-travelling calf creation turned out to be a delicious veal stew, perked up by hearty winter vegetables and lashings of cream. But it was easily trumped by my tagine of piping hot polenta and shredded duck, topped with aubergines and melted cheese. I felt full about half way through but couldn’t bring myself to stop as I savoured each mouthful of my moist, moreish meal.


Alas, this left little room for a final act fanfare of tarte tatin, dark chocolate sorbet or Scottish ice cream with whisky, cream and marinated raisins – sweet sensations that demand a return visit to this vaudevillian neighbourhood haunt.


L’Opéra Bouffe, 5 avenue de Frontenex, 1207 Genève
+41 (0)22 736 6300 www.operabouffe.ch

Style vs. substance

As Monsieur Gourmand and I braved the biting wind on the Pont du Mont Blanc the other night, we agreed that Geneva is a town of two halves. On the one hand it is a banking centre where the world’s wealthiest can safely squirrel away their money; on the other hand it is a haven for human rights and international development, playing host to countless charities and NGOs.


This means Geneva’s restaurants must cater for city slickers and caviar-eating oligarchs as well as scientists and diplomats from all corners of the globe.


Le Comptoir is a hip ‘designer’ hangout where trendy Geneva-dwellers can pretend they are in Paris or London as they admire each other over low rectangular tables, socialising to a soundtrack of funky house music and munching their way through a menu of Asian ‘fusion’ food.


At first glance, it perfectly fits the mould of sophisticated urban eatery with its minimalist banquettes, mellow lighting and exotic-sounding dishes. Scratch the surface, however, and the concept comes unstuck. Peeling paint on the walls is barely disguised by MDF panels emitting white light through crudely drilled holes, while wires dangle untidily from the corner speakers. One might expect immaculate oriental waiters, yet orders are taken by an earthy woman with weather-beaten skin who might be more at home serving herbal infusions and organic cakes.

The platters of sushi that floated past looked fabulous but I had consumed a week’s worth of raw fish the night before so I went for ‘teppan de poulet à la sauce teriyaki’ – chunks of chicken coated in a gloopy sauce that didn’t seem to taste of much other than salt. Perhaps some of the effort that went into creating Le Comptoir’s jaunty jungle-style website should have gone into the food.

Our visit to Le Grand Café in Eaux-Vives two days later was quite the reverse.


Confronted by the sight of a lone customer sipping red wine under harsh yellow lights, we wondered what we had let ourselves in for when we set foot in this traditional Swiss restaurant. But, as with our Comptoir experience, we were soon reminded that appearances can be deceptive.

I denied myself a starter while Monsieur Gourmand went for foie gras soup. Having imagined an unappetising grey, fatty liquid, I realised I had missed out when I tasted the frothy, deliciously subtle soup that it turned out to be.


I feared I might be defeated by the main course – we both ordered enormous entrecôte charolaise – but the thick wedge of meat was so flavoursome that I devoured the whole thing as well as the home made frites and the Café de Paris sauce, served as a herby butter that melts over the meat rather than in a jug. The sheer size of the hefty steak allowed us plenty of time to admire our surroundings. What had at first seemed like a tired old café was on closer inspection a picture of understated elegance with shiny tiled floors and a magnificent stained glass ceiling befitting an old-style ocean liner.


Given a choice between designer décor and substandard cooking or zero atmosphere and down to earth deliciousness, I know which one I’ll be returning to.


Le Comptoir, 9 Rue de Richemont, Paquis www.lecomptoirdesign.com
Le Grand Café, 8 Rue du Vieux-Marché, Eaux-Vives www.legrandcafe.ch