I’m always sorry when the best thing I can say about a restaurant is that it was fine. I’m especially sorry when that’s the best thing I can say and the bill comes to over 100 euros a head.
The Halle aux Grains should be an exquisite restaurant. Located within the historic grain exchange, one of a handful of buildings from the old Les Halles central market that still remains in Paris, which is now also home to the contemporary Pinaut Collection (which, by the way, is worth a visit), Halle aux Grains is a spot from Sébastien and Michel Bras of le Suquet fame.
The father-son chef duo are known for inventing and perfecting the coulant au chocolat as well as for their steadfast love of their home of Laguiole. Their Parisian venture is run by an army of well-trained cooks and chefs, whose work one can witness once the elevator has been left behind on the way to the spacious dining room with gorgeous – and wholly singular – views over the Pompidou center and Saint-Eustache church.
Prices here are exorbitant, but hoping I was in for a treat thanks to the Michelin-starred prowess of the chefs, I was excited to pay this spot a visit, and my dining companions and I decided to lean into the five-course tasting menu: 88 euros a head.
A “theme” in a restaurant often worries me, but the decision to build the menu around grains, given the history of the building, didn’t seem too farfetched. We began with as avant-garde an amuse-bouche as the museum’s collection. A stack of crispy crackers were displayed in a modern sort of letter holder, from which one could serve oneself with all the grace of a drunken game of Jenga: one move, and they all spilled onto the table. They were relatively plain, if texturally pleasant, and were paired with an Espelette pepper-spiked re-cuite (ricotta) that was actually fairly tasty. I thought things were off to a good start.
This puffy corn cracker was far less interesting, with a texture kind of like styrofoam.
A third amuse-bouche was a bowl of tasty, warming warm beef broth. It seemed a bit out of step with everything else, but I loved the flavor – and it was very nice given the rainy evening.
Our first official course was line-caught red mullet carpaccio with radish, tarragon sauce, bottarga, and roe. This was nice, with one exception: the millet, which was really just a smattering of basically cooked couscous. It felt completely out of step with the rest of the dish, purely a nod to the “theme.” If it had been crispy, it might have added some nice texture. As it was, it felt like a contestant on Top Chef trying valiantly to shoehorn one of the required ingredients into an otherwise complete dish.
The flavors of this sea bass dish were quite interesting, with hemp butter and roasted parsnip and squash accompaniment, all seasoned with cascara. My bone to pick here was the cuisson: The fish was over, and with a fish as delicate as this one, it takes much of the enjoyment out of it. The veg, it must be said, were delicious.
The issues of the previous dishes are nearly wholly excused by the perfection of this veal tenderloin. Perfectly rosy and tender with a rich flavor, the veal was paired with a lentil porridge, black sesame paste, and saffron-infused caramelized onions with some pickled young turnips on the side. I can fault no part of this dish, and indeed, if my meal had been pared down to feature just this, the broth, and the crackers with ricotta, I would have been a happy diner indeed.
And that holds especially true considering the accompaniment: pan-cooked patties of aligot (potatoes and cheese) to be shared among us. (I will say that given the price, we could have possibly done with a third little pan of this, but I’m a cheese fiend, so that might just be me.)
Speaking of cheese fiendery, the cheese course came next: Laguiole, Roquefort, and Lot valley goat cheese, served with an orange confit and a grain granola. The goat was particularly lovely, and I liked that they focused on Laguiole cheeses, though I think most diners would have welcomed hearing a bit more about the connection between the chefs and these particular cheeses. (In fact, given the emphasis of the Bras family on storytelling, I think many of the dishes could have been better explained or framed by the servers.)
Dessert was nice enough: an ile flottante filled with fruit compote and topped with crispy millet. (The texture of which would have been very nice on the fish dish). I was surprised we weren’t served the coulant, but the lightness of this dish was actually a pleasant end note.
At the end of the day, I’m sorry I don’t have nicer things to say about this spot, because I do highly respect the Bras family’s contributions to French cuisine and think that you’d be hard-pressed to find a nicer, more singular dining room with a view – particularly one open on both Sunday and Monday night. But for the price, much to my disappointment, it’s just not worth it.
Halle aux Grains – 2 Rue de Viarmes, 75001