Anna, le Sherpa famouse (celebre), ponders the wonders of life and the goodness of moules.
Those who know me, and those who dine with me, know that I enjoy French brasserie food tremendously. My need for Les Halles in Washington DC is epic. I can't get enough. No matter where I am.
Luckily, my sister-in-law Polly understands this and after casually mentioning that I had a hankering for some French, she steered us towards Venice Beach to Lilly's French Cafe.
Actually, when we were on the way there, I didn't know we were going to a French place. Hell, I wasn't paying attention to the sign when we walked in, and didn't realize our good fortune until I spied the onglet on the menu. Merci Jesus Cristo.
With Dennis in tow and Anna, that famous Sherpa with her brand new BMW hotness, we sat down for another multi-course meal exploring all of Lilly's French goodness. It's now getting to the point where one dish and one flavor just won't do. We must have all dishes and tastes of all dishes, and that's how it went down.
Starting with a round of onion soup, then the big guns came out: ahi tuna salad, moules mariniere, poulet roti, onglet l'echallote and frites, frites and more frites. We had so much fuckin' frites - it was potato hurricane.
Ahi, onglet, moules, poulet and frites, frites, frites!
The onion soup was pretty good. Nicely done and a good flavor. When it comes to ahi tuna, as long as it's fresh and raw (at least in the middle), I'm happy. Truth is, I'll eat fresh, raw tuna all day, every day until Judgement Day if I could afford it.
The moules were tasty and cooked just right. Everyone tore into those with reckless abandon. So much so that you'd have thought we hadn't been eating non-stop all week. Scary. The onglet was it's usual kidney-icious goodness. Grilled just right and covered in shallots. The low point was the poulet. The exterior looked delicious but once you got into it, you realized it just looked good but were dry and killed inside. Such a shame.
1 comment:
I thought of you when I got a palm-sized hunk of foie gras with a wonderful fig jam and bread at a little neighborhood brasserie in paris last week. So delicious.
From there to enjoying the wonders of prosciutto everywhere we went throughout Tuscany, I must say that it was a good time in my life to be eating meat.
Post a Comment