Locomotoring

Mackerel with beet puree	Blood sausage with mashed potatoes
Fatty pork on a bed of lentils	Outside Le Timbre

Located near Jardin du Luxembourg, Le Timbre is another small and delightful bistro serving traditional cuisine. Yet another place where I had to restrain myself from eating a big block of foie gras with a bottle of wine and loaf of white bread.

Chef, Le Timbre

First course – fried mackerel with beet puree. Of course we loved it.  Where I come from, in Bengal, fried bait accompanies Darjeeling tea in between meals. My husband is an honorary Bengali. Beet puree was vibrant and palate cleansing in between the bites of the oily fish.

I ordered the boudin noir. Blood sausage isn’t something I have grown up with but I like it all the same. This was as fat as my forearm, crisp on the surface and rich blood mousse like inside. It sat on a bed of mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes like my mother makes – soft and fluffy but with some bites of the potatoes still remaining. Perhaps orthogonal in texture to Joel Robuchon’s half-and-half pureed potatoes with butter but not so orthogonal in taste. And accompanied with sauteed seasonal mushrooms. Unlike oily fried fish, blood sausage is heavenly with red wine. My husband ordered the special of the day, fatty pork with puy lentil salad. Pork was fantastic but the lentil would have done better with a touch of lemon.

We ventured from our norm and ordered the poached fig dessert. We needn’t have, our homemade caramelized figs is hard to beat.

At our neighboring a table, a gentleman who appeared to be a regular, started with a big block of foie gras, moved on to the pork main course and finished the caramelized figs – all downed with  a bottle of wine. Damn.

The service was relaxed and friendly. From where I sat, I had a good view of the chef operating in his tiny kitchen. He seemed immersed in his routine. I could hear the dishwasher and the sizzling meat on the stove. In an intimate ambiance such as this, one almost feels like being given a personalized service. Chef did fiddle with my plate for quite a bit before he thought it fit for my consumption. At the end of the meal, he helped me extricate myself from my seat on my way out.

After this big meal, we legged all the way to Hammam by Jardin de Plantes and I ended up spending my afternoon wrapped in a wet towel and being exposed to the horror of syrupy mint tea.