The French have always loved a good terrasse, but during deconfinement, this is even more true. French restaurants are technically allowed to open for indoor seating, but most are embracing the outdoor service lifestyle, and that goes doubly true for spots that already have a big terrace, like Caché, an aptly named “hidden” spot currently playing host to chef Sylvain Roucayrol.
Unfortunately, on the day of our visit, due to inclement weather, we were only able to enjoy an apéritif in this hidden haven; for dinner, we headed inside for a parade of Mediterranean-inspired dishes paired with a delicious bottle of natural Calcarius, an orange wine from Puglia.
Seafood is plentiful on this menu, and whether it’s the batter-fried calamari up top or this paprika-dusted Galician octopus, it is handled with phenomenal mastery.
Tartares and crudos feature heavily. We sampled both this amberjack with courgette, kumquat, corn nuts, and house-made hot sauce and another of bream with passionfruit and avocado. Both were tasty and offered great balance; I had a slight preference for the former thanks to the added crunch.
Vegetarians are catered to quite nicely, here. A massive beefsteak tomato arrived with a slab of feta and a generous sprinkling of dukkah. I loved the added touch of the knife spearing the tomato, a gesture that evoked the heft of this dish.
This dish of aubergines with tahini was a little muted in flavor for my liking, but the texture was on-point and those colors are beautiful.
I’m a huge lentil fan, and this dish with jalapeños and pickled carrots did not disappoint. Exquisitely balanced, it was definitely a contender for my favorite dish of the night.
That honor went to this contemporary spin on a hand-cut steak tartare with vinegared guindillas – one of my all-time favorite chiles and a staple of pintxos bars in the Basque Country.
Now, for the unfortunate news. As is the case in many trendy restaurants, the dining room at Caché is dark. Like, unpleasantly dark. It was difficult to even see what was on each plate, and at 33 years old, I don’t think I’ve reached the age where this complaint is unjustified. Add to this the fact that the bread was just-ok (a sin, to my mind, in France) and the portions were rather small for the price, and Caché unfortunately misses the mark, for me, especially when I know that Yard is just steps away. Will I return to Caché for a glass (or several) and a (delicious) nibble on the terrace? Most definitely. Will I head to 3rd arrondissement Mara upon chef Roucayrol’s return? Absolutely. But will I cross town to dine in the dark? …Probably not.
Cach̩ Р13 Villa Riberolle, 75020