La Riotte, Paris

There seemed a certain symmetry to dining here. The last time we were in Paris, any thoughts of leisurely Christmas shopping were, literally, placed behind shutters as the French capital battled against rioters known as gilets jaunes. But I learn that the name of this establishment has nothing to do with riots. On the contrary, my sources tell me that it may be an old dialect word meaning little stream.

The other coincidence struck us on arrival. Searching the map for our accommodation, it occurred to me that it must be quite close to the place we stayed last time. So close that they hadn't changed the art work, and I think I recognised one of the receptionists.

If you've logged in expecting lascivious accounts of Michelin feasts, look away now. It just wasn't going to be that sort of break. I did have one meal booked in a place which sounded swish, but even that got side tracked. Why? Well after a few hours spent people watching in the spring sunshine, and being diverted by a couple of omelettes and a quantity of decent Burgundy, dinner was no longer our priority. (Don't worry - I did cancel in plenty of time.)

I had forgotten how formulaic the menus are in the average French eatery, so for a pre concert dinner I was aspiring for greater things. La Riotte sounded interesting. Probably not as interesting, mind you, as our walk there. The Rue Saint Honoré is home to many a chichi clothes shop. Virtually all of these seemed to be hosting a drinks reception to mark the Paris Fashion Week. The shop and streets were full of bright, beautiful and stylish people, much better dressed than the 2018 rioters. We were brought up sharply by seeing a group of men who actually were wearing gilets jaunes (yellow hi-vis jackets). They were firemen, called to some minor emergency, a snapped heel or broken nail perhaps.

Anyway, to La Riotte, just up from La Madeleine, venue for the concert. (Of that, the less said the better.) Even at 6.30 the place has a buzz to it. The uniform is designer facial hair and leather aprons and a smile. The space is fun: the menu fascinating. Yes, it featured the usual suspects, onion soup, snails, foie gras and the like. Steak tartare is ubiquitous: but generally as a main course, often served with chips. But read on and it starts to get more interesting, though still recognisably French. Eggs poached in pinot noir, for example, or an elaborate take on leeks vinaigrette.

Then it goes completely off piste. I have never ever seen a section on a menu entitled Comfort Food (Les Réconfortants). It needed a bit of work from Google Translate. Saffron risotto, easy enough. But L'omelette baveuse? Baveuse means drooling. Ah, runny. And it would hardly be unreasonable to assume that coquillettes des enfants gâtés (spoiled children) might have involved small scallops. But no, a type of pasta served with ham, two types of cheese and some truffle. Every day's a school day.

Egg Mayo - I kid you not

L being slightly off her vittles settled for one course, the Pâté Signature. This was a fine example, pastry clad, featuring veal, pork and foie gras, with some unidentifiable pickles on the side. How, I asked myself, can this kitchen make Oeufs Mayonnaise interesting and what, I mused, is the advertised poudre de porc? What arrived was greener than an alien which had fallen in Shrek's swamp. And exceedingly interesting it was too. Am I getting a touch of wasabi, I asked? Yes, came the approving reply, and some ginger too. And the pork powder was ground up crackling. Egg mayo, but not as we know it.

We shared the Noix de joues de porc confite au cidre. The pig cheeks had been lovingly braised for hours. The stew had a hint of sweetness, offset by some lightly cooked, tart apple. The bed of glorious, slightly earthy mash was the perfect base.

While the names in the dessert section were familiar, one suspects that there was rather more to their execution than normal. Île flottante came with candied peanuts. (Anything would improve that vile dish). The chocolate mousse sounded intriguing, with smoked pepper, olive oil and a cocoa streuzle. That latter is a crunchy topping not dissimilar to a crumble. I had to go and research Pommes Boskoop. It's the type of apple, much praised by French chefs because of its flavour and the fact that it retains its shape when cooked. Here they were confites and served with with all sorts of goodies, including vanilla syrup, sablé breton and a quince jelly.

Time was short so we nibbled on some cheese. You could choose three. The only one we had heard of was Comté, so we left the decision to the experts, and very good they were. (The cheeses, that is, though the experts were fine chaps too.) I could happily have spent longer here and put the menu to more of the test. Intriguing and fun. I'll happily return one day.