62, rue de Malte (11)
Where to begin? This was a memorable meal; good, enjoyable, wildly overpriced and completely unforgettable in its eccentricity.
Cartet carries a legendary name, a once celebrated female-run bistro which changed hands 12 years ago. The current owner/chef/waiter/reservationist/doorman/sommelier/dishwasher took it over then, maintaining many of the classic dishes. But the similarities stop there.
There is a name on the awning. In the windows flanking the door meant to hold menus, or anywhere else is there any evidence it is a restaurant. Including the locked door. As we began to turn away despite a reserved table, it was unlocked for us, then relocked, lest some unreserved guest have the temerity to try for a table. One older couple and a table set for two reserved for us. The other 18 places empty. When asked, the chef replied that he serves “as few as he can”.
He was charming, friendly and everywhere at once, doing everything. The menu is broader than one would expect for four covers, and not everything was available. This isn’t exactly a private chef, but neither did it evoke the awkwardness of an empty restaurant waiting for guests. It was unusual, as in never before, but fun. Again? Probably to show off, but we’ve seen the film.
Terrine for every table. Fresh and good. Magret, thinly sliced with orange sauce, veal chop with morels in cream sauce. Both served with a double portion of irresistible potato cake. Entrees, salade with lardons, morels (again) on toasted brioche with a different cream sauce.
Desserts: All of them put on the table: chocolate mousse, lemon tart, rice pudding, floating island, flan.
Gracious and personal
Very high. With two glasses of wine, one water (10€!) and two coffees, 232€.