Developing a cohesive, delicious main dish is no easy task: Pairing protein, sauce, and sides requires that each element not only be lovely on its own but also unite with the other pieces on the plate to tell an even richer culinary story. Time-tested pairings like beef bourguignon and mashed potatoes or veal blanquette with rice are easy to fall back on, but as contemporary bistros and restaurants challenge the codes of the past, some pairings, like Géosmine’s dry-aged red mullet with charred kale, soft leek, and bouillabaisse sauce or Astier’s rabbit roulade with grainy mustard sauce, mushrooms, and white asparagus tick all the boxes, while others unfortunately miss the mark. (It’s perhaps unsurprising that so many have opted not to rise to the challenge at all by sticking with the easier-to-execute small plates format.) That Le Cadoret tries is laudable, but unfortunately, its efforts fall flat… and yet, I still think you should go.
Walk with me.
When I arrived for my 7:30 reservation at le Cadoret, the brightly-lit bistro was still quite empty. Soon, however, it began to fill, bustling as a place like this should on a Friday night. I perused the short list of options on the chalkboard menu, and, seeing as I was reviewing it for work, I had to force myself not to order a slew of appetizers rather than an appetizer and a main.
After much debate, I eschewed the Scotch egg and crab salad with aioli on toast in favor of gnocchi (11), and I was far from disappointed. The pillowy dumplings were settled into a double-barrelled sauce combo marrying rich, tangy yogurt and not-too-spicy house-made harissa, all with a tumble of fried leek greens on top to add sweetness, depth, and crunch.
My choice was facilitated by the fact that my dining companion opted to order the other appetizer I had my eye on: the farm-raised veal’s head, seared and served in a savory broth with toasted peanuts and herbs (10). Tête de veau is a favorite of mine – and of hers. She also ordered it when we visited Bouillon Pigalle together. And whereas I remember her needing to order a glass of wine to balance the richness of that delicious version, paired, as it is more typically, with rich gribiche, the lightness of this version, balanced with the freshness of the herbs and broth, made it ultra-moreish. (And even contributed to her ordering a second round of the same. If that’s not high praise, I don’t know what is.)
The generous slices of country bread served alongside both appetizers were warm and had an ultra crunchy crust. All told, it was a phenomenal beginning to a meal I had high hopes for.
Unfortunately, as is too often the case, things took a turn at the mains – though here, the turn was particularly sharp. My friend ordered the pork shoulder served with seasonal veggies and a rich jus (24). The pork was certainly well-seasoned and flavorful, but it came with a massive hunk of unappetizing fat – and if there’s anyone who can embrace fatty cuts of meat, it’s my dining companion this evening. The vegetables were barely cooked; for the carrots, this was far from unpleasant, especially in France, land of the mushy veg. That said, I found the slightly warm raw mushroom less appetizing. (She couldn’t even eat the leeks; I took care of them, but they retained a bit of unwelcome bitterness.)
I opted instead for pollack (25), which isn’t typically my favorite fish, though I found the promise of an anchovy-laced aioli sauce enticing, and I liked the idea of pairing the mild-mannered fish with fried broccoli, celery root, and radicchio, a sort of vegetal hommage to the end of winter. Unfortunately, the broccoli had clearly been fried long before service and had an aroma of stale oil about it, and the celery root suffered the same undercooked predicament as the veg accompanying my friend’s pork. The barely-there sauce disappeared in two mouthfuls, and perhaps the biggest crime was that the fish itself was woefully undercooked. (And this coming from someone who likes my salmon still pearlescent inside.)
Dessert saved the baby, with an herbaceous sorrel sorbet (9) paired with a vacherin made with fresh fromage blanc, cream, and meringue. A drizzle of pear caramel was a lovely finishing touch.
François Simon is the anonymous reviewer who has recently taken Instagram and TikTok by storm with his poetic reviews of various dining establishments, which are always concluded with the question: Y retournerai-je? Will I return? This seems an apt question for places like le Cadoret, whose vibe and service I loved. I will return, and this time, I’ll order three appetizers and a dessert, and I’m quite certain I’ll be more than satisfied.
Le Cadoret – 1, rue Pradier, 75019