If stress seems a natural prelude to ordering a portion of pate, I have news for you. French food doesn't have to be snobby. Two new Valley restaurants, Barbara's and Cafe Riviera, are living proof.
Barbara's opened quietly last March in the Windmill Plaza at Shea Boulevard and Scottsdale Road. Located in the space that originally housed Christos Ristorante, Barbara's is an unexpectedly handsome restaurant with a decidedly feminine touch. Yes, Virginia, there is a Barbara. She can be found in the front of the house, greeting new customers and honoring dedicated patrons by taking their pictures. As one patron put it, "Barbara's is Barbara."
Though the rectangular dining room inspires yawns, care and attention to details overcome ennui. Walls are papered in a muted floral print--reminiscent of tissue-box designs--which gives the room an intimate, private-residence feel. Tables are comfortably large, covered with linen and laden with graceful glassware and heavy silver. I especially like the single silver-plated candlestick, the silver-plated salt and pepper shakers and the tiny bouquet of Royal Stratford bone-china flowers. Barbara's neo-deco flowered china provides the perfect bridge between stately table-setting and boudoir wallpaper.
Tables at Barbara's are graciously spaced in an arrangement that invites comparison (on a smaller scale) with the layout of Ritz-Carlton's Restaurant. As in that proper establishment, a large floral arrangement on a service table in the center of the room provides a visual focal point. Table turnover is not the goal here. The room invites customers to join Barbara for the evening and enjoy her food.
Actually, it's not really Barbara's food--although she and husband Hubert Anguenot have been known to do some of the cooking. Chef Gerald Aimee, formerly of La Marmite in Carefree, took control of Barbara's kitchen shortly after his previous restaurant closed, for good, last spring. I am happy he did.
Aimee is a fine chef who makes traditional French fare come alive. The menu is comforting in its classicism. You won't find anything exotic or outre here, unless an appetizer of fresh tuna carpaccio qualifies. Just tried-and-true favorites we've all come to know and love, like veal cordon bleu, coquilles St. Jacques en gratin, coq au vin, steak tartare. Foods we barely even think of as French anymore, they've become so Americanized and, sadly, abused. It is refreshing to enjoy them with the full French treatment.
For instance, our garlic escargot (escargot au beurre d'ail) is fabulous. The best I've had in the Valley, bar none. Slightly chewy and lacking any rude aftertaste, our six snails are served bubbling hot and seething with butter and garlic. I browbeat my dining accomplice into letting me have four, instead of three--and trust me, this is unusual behavior.
Our duck pate (terrine de canard au pistaches) is similarly revelatory. The semicoarse slabs of pink pate studded with pistachios are marvelous when eaten alone with a bit of sour Cornichon or when smeared on Barbara's warm, crusty bread. Sliced hard-boiled egg and Roma tomato provide other tasty accompaniments. I originally order the pate thinking I will sample some and take the rest home, but guess what? I devour it all a table. Quel dommage!
The aforementioned adventurous tuna carpaccio is good, but overshadowed by the excellence of the other starter. Strips of raw tuna, atop a bed of shredded white cabbage remoulade (piquant mayonnaise sauce), spike out from the center of the plate. A dusting of Parmesan adds even more flavor. On the night we visit Barbara's, service is affable and low-key. Our server is a woman. Because it is a quiet night, she handles the room solo with fairly good results. Although, as things pick up later in the evening, she is less available for us as we move into dessert, coffee and the check. When she comes to our table, she is literally out of breath. An extra hand would solve that.
A salad of greens does not seem to be part of the menu, so my dining accomplice and I each try one of Barbara's four soups. I am enchanted when our choices arrive in deep ceramic urn-bowls with animals carved in the handles. The cream of cauliflower and potato soup (Creme Dubarry) is velvety smooth and hot. I love it. The country-style vegetable with bacon (Soup Paysanne) is literally pale by comparison. This clear-brothed soup contains a garden full of chopped vegetables and potatoes, but is somewhat forgettable.
After such a fine beginning, I worry that our entrees won't measure up. I needn't have. I love the fillets of Dover sole in a creamy leek-filled sauce. The delicately flavored fish, combined with this gentle cousin of the garlic bulb, is a wonderful combination. Best of all, at $14.80, this dish is very reasonably priced. It's a cold evening and New York steak with bearnaise sauce sounds like just the dish to fight the chill. As it turns out, the steak itself is only adequate. I request a steak knife, but our waitress tells us the restaurant has none yet. This is unfortunate. I need one.
But the bearnaise, ah, the bearnaise. Homemade on the premises, Chef Aimee's airy whipped version of egg yolks, butter, shallots and tarragon nearly makes up for all the bad bearnaise I've been subjected to over the years. You know, the prefab, packaged mix kind? Even the vegetables accompanying our entrees are sensational. A minicasserole of sliced potatoes layered with cheese turns my accomplice, who is not a fan of scalloped potatoes, into a devotee. Equally fabulous is the buttery matchstick-cut medley of zucchini, potato and carrots. These side dishes are no aside.
On the night we visit, dessert is decent, but not a strong point. Presentation is casual. A rough scoop of rich, dark-chocolate mousse is placed unceremoniously on a plate, as is a slice of brown, caramelized apple tart, yet we still manage to find pleasure in eating both.
Part of Barbara's charm is that it is unpretentious. At times, however, I find myself longing for more attention to the finer details of service: the replacement of silverware and cutlery, the quick removal of plates, promptly refilled water glasses and, yes, the beloved silver crumber. This level of service is difficult, if not impossible, when there is only one person working the room. Yet, I think food this good and a room this attractive warrant it.
I'll be honest with you. Cafe Riviera is a nice little restaurant serving accessible, noncomplex French--and some Italian--food. Owners Pierre George and George Brual's biggest obstacle to success is Cafe Riviera's doomed Kino Plaza location at 32nd Street and Thunderbird. Most recently, this space housed White Nights, a Russian restaurant that received only fair reviews. The onion-shaped doorways are reminders of the dill and potatoes I once consumed here.
The restaurant looks better, more alive than it did in its previous incarnation. A white trellis now breaks up the room and a bar has been installed where there once was a small stage. French folk and contemporary music play on the sound system. Even the lighting seems better.
The French rolls and butter we are brought at the start favorably dispose me to the rest of Cafe Riviera's offerings. It's not that I'm easy; it's that the hot rolls and butter are good.
The calamari salad doesn't let me down. Featuring rings and tentacles marinated simply in olive oil and vinegar, the squid is tender and al dente--not rubbery. Chopped green pepper, onion, tomato and just enough garlic make this a calamari salad to remember.
A hot appetizer of seafood in a puff pastry shell misses its mark only because it is too salty. Otherwise, the mussels, scallops, calamari and some type of white fish (forgive my ignorance) in a creamy, green sauce are very pleasing.
Where Barbara's is accessible and unpretentious, Cafe Riviera is downright family- and value- oriented. Soup or salad comes with each entree. The green salad of leaf lettuce and tomato in a gentle vinaigrette is quite good--and I am hard on gratis salads. I also like the hot leek-potato soup. The potatoes give this creamy concoction the consistency of pea soup.
Oversalting rears its ugly head again when our entrees arrive. The green peppercorn-brandy sauce served with the filet mignon is the criminal. The sauce is flavorful, but too salty to be fully enjoyable. The beef is of good quality and cooked to order.
I could use more fresh citrus with my canard a l'orange (duck with orange sauce). I could also use a steak knife (again). I find it difficult to remove the quacker from the bone. The portion is large and I end up taking quite a bit home. Perhaps that's because I eat all of my delicious vegetables: diced garlic potatoes, brussels sprouts and cauliflower and a puree of carrots.
Dessert here is surprisingly good. A slab of chocolate mousse embedded with cake is served with raspberry sauce. A creme au caramel or caramel-flavored egg custard is one of the best flans I've ever eaten--smooth and creamy.
I wish Cafe Riviera bon chance. The food is good, the prices are moderate, and most important, Pierre and George know the difference between accessible and Americanized. You won't find fancy French food at Cafe Riviera, just hearty, simple fare that happens to have originated in France.
Barbara's, 10321 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale, 948-5181. Hours: 5 to 10 p.m., Monday through Saturday. Hours beginning January 1992: Breakfast and Lunch, 10:30 a.m. to 2 p.m.; Dinner, 5 to 10 p.m. Closed Sunday.
Cafe Riviera, 13832 North 32nd Street, Phoenix, 493-2404. Hours: Lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m, Monday through Friday; Dinner, 5:30 to 9:30 p.m., Monday through Thursday, 5:30 to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday. Closed Sunday.
anywhere
French food doesn't have to be snobby. barbara's
Barbara's garlic escargot is fabulous. The best I've had in the Valley, bar none.
I originally order the pate thinking I will sample some and take the rest home, but guess what? I devour it all a table. riviera
Cafe Riviera is downright family- and value-oriented. Soup or salad comes with each entree.
A slab of chocolate mousse embedded with cake is served with raspberry sauce.
