When Le Verre Volé first opened in 2000, it was fairly revolutionary. The cellar specialized in natural wine and small sharing plates, and it was located in the up-and-coming 10th arrondissement, overlooking the Canal Saint-Martin. It is one of a handful of spots that spurred the French food scene as we see it today, and it still sits, with its trademark purple awning, in what has since become a no-longer up-and-coming but full-on trendy (and some would say gentrified) milieu.
I know I am not the first to suggest that le Verre Volé may be past its prime. I’ve heard people say that the food isn’t as good as it once was; that the wine is the reason to come. I’ve heard still others say that if you aren’t a friend of the restaurant, you may not be privy to the best bottles on the list. Since on my first visit, just a few weeks ago, I went with a friend who was teetotal for the night and am not a member of the latter group, my experience may not have been primed and cannot be compared to what it was before. But it is also probably pretty close to what most people can expect from a night at le Verre Volé.
So let’s start with the good stuff.
This katsu-style chicken, for instance, encrusted in a ginger-spiked coating served with pickled onions and a Thai curry mayonnaise so delicious I wiped up the rest with the (excellent) bread. (Ten Belles, is that you?) This was my favorite dish of the night, thanks to its precision and its downright deliciousness.
The flavor of this brill sashimi with a fermented tosazu vinegar marinade was spectacular, but it nevertheless seemed to rely entirely on its marinade to give it that moreish zing. The broad beans were fine; the cherries were fine; the fish was fine. But the dish lacked cohesion; it just made me want to buy my own bottle of tosazu and drizzle it on, well, pretty much everything.
I badly wanted to love this tête de veau terrine, which was a meatier and less fatty and gelatinous than most other specimens I’ve tried, which should have meant flavor flavor flavor. But it lacked seasoning, a fault only slightly made up for by the pickled onions. It was good… it just wasn’t great.
A simple ricotta cheesecake scattered with seasonal cherries was light and fluffy. It was a nice way to finish, and I was pleased with the portion size, but it wasn’t the kind of dessert to convert me from my usually-stalwart no-dessert-ways.
Am I being too hard on le Verre Volé? If I am, it’s not my intention. I just hoped for… I don’t know… a bit more from a place that was once such an innovator.
Le Verre Volé - 67, rue de Lancry, 75010