I don’t often find myself dining in the Latin Quarter, but I probably should: After all, this historic district is where many of the folks I take on tours choose to stay, and it would be a good idea for me to have a few great addresses in my back pocket. Luckily, I stumbled into one thanks to a friend and colleague who suggested we check out the lunch prix fixe at Affinité, the sister restaurant of Michelin-starred Alliance just steps from the Panthéon.
At lunch as at dinner, Affinité offers a “carte blanche” – a prix fixe decided entirely by the chef, although he of course takes into account allergies, aversions, likes, and dislikes. My dining companion, for example, was given a small bowl of AOP Baux de Provence olive oil to accompany her bread service in place of the quenelle of butter that joined mine.
We opted for the three-course meal, a bargain at just 35 euros per person, especially considering all of the extra treats that get thrown into that generous conception of “three.” We started with gougères: light and simple. They did not in any way betray the true creativity that was in store for us.
This was, however, suggested by the other two amuse bouches that joined them: A foie gras “sucette” (termed a “cake ball” by my dining companion) infused with truffle and crushed nuts, which added a lovely texture to the foie, which was perhaps a bit sweeter than my liking but was otherwise just as one would expect foie to be, rich and silky.
My favorite of the three turned out to be the simplest: a rice cracker “tuille” topped with just a few beads of roe for the ideal salty finish. The combination of textures certainly amused my bouche… but also whet my appetite for what was to follow.
This veal tartare was everything I always hope to encounter in gastronomic restaurants of this caliber: both surprising and delicious. The veal itself had a mi-cuit sort of texture that invited conversation, as my dining companion and I posited possible techniques: Was it cooked in acid, like a ceviche? The texture seemed right for it, but flavor-wise, the dish was far more briny than sour, seasoned generously with oyster leaf and topped with a generous quenelle of herring caviar. Could it be salted, like gravlax? Perhaps, but saltiness in the dish seemed instead to come from the parsimonious use of crunchy flakes of fleur de sel.
We finished every morsel and were pleased to learn straight from the chef’s mouth that it was, in fact, just lightly cooked before being hand-cut for that ideal interplay of raw and cooked textures.
And then the meal began.
It was with a genial and self-aware flourish that our server set down our “first” course: a scallop crudo pairing generous, creamy slices of Saint-Malo scallops with citrus in many forms: pearls of finger lime, hunks of perfectly supremed grapefruit, dollops of yuzu curd. The herbaceous touches were wholly welcome and counterbalanced the sweetness of the scallop and acidity of the citrus. The only unfortunate misstep was easy to avoid: a too-generous lashing of ponzu sauce, whose deep, soy character masked the scallop.
Our “main” was a roast loin of veal, perfectly cooked to a rosy pink hue and sauced tableside with a reduced jus. The leek provided some much-needed sweetness to counterbalance the deep savory and salty qualities of the sauce, and a perfectly cooked pile of Israeli couscous meant that the delicious bread was rendered almost unnecessary. I love being served dishes like this in fine dining restaurants: There was a moreish, homey quality to the dish that, even in its precision, had an element of welcome stodge. It felt like a dish that could easily invite nostalgia, ideal for a gray, rainy Paris day.
A pre-dessert came in two steps: this aloe vera granité served atop a pineapple brunoise “spiced” with Thai chile. The scare quotes refer, of course, to the fact that there was nothing particularly spicy about this bite, which to me tasted mainly of pineapple. (Delicious pineapple, fwiw.)
It came with a finger of almond financier just this side of my sweet threshold positively redolent with fresh vanilla bean. I believe I may have described it as “dope.” Because it was. I almost squirreled half away in my pocket for later, but opted instead to finish the whole blessed thing.
The “main event” dessert was far less mind-blowing: a deconstructed lemon meringue tart that could have used way more tartness to balance the sweetness of the semifreddo and meringue. The bee pollen was a nice touch, but ultimately, I had been wowed way more earlier in the meal.
Mignardises of a lemon madeleine and a mini cookie studded with white and dark chocolate were far more to my liking. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the cookie, specifically, ticked all those nostalgic boxes, with a texture nearing that of cookie dough and a generously rich undercurrent of molasses.
I came away from my lunch at Affinité feeling nourished both in spirit and in stomach – and moreover, despite the bounty of courses, I didn’t feel overly heavy or weighed down. In other words, the three-course menu at Affinité was the ideal lunchtime splurge – and at 35 euro (I can’t help but reiterate…) was frankly a steal.
Affinité – 33 Rue de Bièvre, 75005