Cul de Poule — dining at the rue des Martyrs’ Hen’s Arse.
July 9, 2009
Photo by JasonW
Text by Geneviève Sandifer
If there’s one thing I think New York has perfected over Paris, it’s the art of the casual, delicious and reasonably inventive bistro meal. Most Americans first landing in France would disagree heartily, but after a life spent in Paris eating mediocre croque-monsieurs and room temperature frites with my stringy bavettes aux echalottes, I continue to marvel at New York restaurateurs’ ability to churn out adventurous and generally decent options for the downtown sidewalk-er.
When I first heard of Cul de Poule, I thought that I had found the modern French equivalent of New York’s neo-café/brasserie. Most tell-tale signs include: trendy staff playing indie rock on the stereo (check) bad acoustics (check), cramped, mismatched furniture (check), and a short but seriously intriguing hand-written menu (check) that remixed French standards (duck confit, roasted lamb) with fresh, playful flavors and combinations – worth a shot, but probably more hype than substance. Continue Reading »
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