I don’t really know why, but I have a much harder time getting excited about spring produce than I do produce in other seasons. I love the squashes and sweet potatoes of fall; I love the crucifers of winter and the tomatoes of summer. But while I like peas and asparagus… this season, for whatever reason, just doesn’t make my soul sing.
But I met a dish of peas recently that made me reconsider my tune.
Liquide is a “modern tavern” from the team behind Substance, which I loved back in 2019. The restaurant purports to offer precise, uninhibited, accessible cuisine, and while the last point is a bit of a contentious one for me, for adventurous diners, this spot should definitely be on your radar.
The menu is divided into a long list of small plates and a short list of mains, with sides à la carte. (This isn’t entirely clear from the menu division into “In Chorus,” “Heat,” “Share,” and “Happiness.” It was perhaps the first time in my life that I actually needed to know “how the menu works.”)
Once I understood, however, we were off, ordering four shared plates plus a shared main – the only such option, designed to feed two. For our group of four, we figured this was a good jumping off point.
And jump we did with the “surprise” oysters topped with kumquat and fresh herbs. One of my dining companions expressed worry that the oyster would be overpowered by the accompaniments, and while she found them quite well-balanced, I wonder if I wouldn’t have preferred the juicy, briny morsels unadorned.
Definitely still tasty though.
The inarguable star of the meal, for me, was a simple dish of peas atop crackers made from bread, which we used almost like tortilla chips to scoop up the fresh veggies, seasoned judiciously with bright horseradish, earthy spring garlic, and a gorgeous, fresh topping of elderflowers. The balance of this dish was perfection.
The punny poulpe-corn was as fun to look at as it was to eat: long tentacles of octopus were “breaded” in popcorn and served with two sauces – one of black garlic and the other of sweet pimenton. A grilled lime squeezed over the top was an excellent finishing touch, and the creativity of this dish was rivaled only by its deliciousness.
I quite enjoyed this asparagus dish, which was served atop a savory “fish gribiche” and topped with flakes of dried tuna. Ponzu added a lovely note of acidity. Its diminutive size must be down to the hair-raising prices of asparagus this season, which seem even more ludicrous than in years past, which meant that sharing this dish out among four people was a bit of an exercise in futility. But it was tasty.
Next up, the mains. While the Brussels sprouts served with scamorza and Parmesan were definitely calling my name, the crucifers themselves got a bit lost in the sheer quantity of sauce here, and the note of curry, while promised, wasn’t super present. I liked the idea of this dish more than the execution, and as compared to the size of the small plates, with, with the exception of the oysters and asparagus, were fairly consequential, I’m curious as to how this made it into the “mains” section.
The shared main, meanwhile, made a massive jump in price, clocking in at 70 euros. That said, for as omnipresent as pigeon is on Parisian menus these days, this iteration was pretty impressive, arriving whole at the table only for the server to deftly halve it (I do love me some dining room showmanship…) to reveal the rare interior and a stuffing of smoked morteau sausage and portabello mushrooms.
Expensive? Yes. A bit too rare for me? Yes. Did I gnaw the meat from the bones like a feral animal?
Also yes.
Dessert came first in the form of a cheese plate paired with a glass of delicious Maury. (The wines were lovely; I had a particular coup de coeur for the Jules Chauvet cuvée from Domaine Robert-Denogent.)
We wrapped things up with a lovely chocolate concoction with black rice that almost lent a fruitiness to the finished dessert. While I’m not the biggest fan of anything chocolate, even I had to doff a cap to it.
Deliciousness aside, I do have a few sticking points to my experience at Liquide. High stools are not my favorite way to dine, especially not at a place where the food is good enough to linger over. The menu itself can be confusing, and I find myself craving an appetizer and a main with a side dish rather than a mix-and-match bevy of selctions.
That said, I applaud Liquide’s mastery of pacing: Small plates arrived in sequence so that we could enjoy each one, and they didn’t miss a step when we opted to share out a main destined for two among four diners.
All in all, if you’re looking for somewhere surprising to dine, this is a great option.
Liquide – 39 Rue de l’Arbre Sec, 75001