Close to home: Maximo Bistrot Local

Note: The fine folks at Maximo have been recently caught in the vortex of a socioeconomic media fest, shedding light on ugly aspects of Mexican society: corruption and classism. See: 
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/30/world/americas/restaurant-http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/30/world/americas/restaurant-patrons-behavior-is-panned.html?ref=restaurantspatrons-behavior-is-panned.html?ref=restaurants
Here, I pay homage to this fine venue by republishing my review of last year.-
I love to criticize. I was raised in New York after all, where criticism is an art form. But Máximo Bistrot Local, a fine new venue for creative cuisine in the constantly up-and-coming Colonia Roma, defies even me to find fault.

Cool and chic Máximo replaces a dowdy medical supply store; where wheelchairs and artificial limbs were once sold you can find the best brandade de morue this side of the Seine. The space, airy and sunny during the day, warm and cozy at night, has been smartly and discreetly given new life. Windows and rooms, once blocked up, were opened, those lovely old tile floors, until not so long ago routinely torn out by tasteless renovators, have been replaced. Simple but comfortable wooden bistro chairs and tables are given room to breathe, both inside and out on the street. Adornment is minimal. Ambient music is mercifully turned low. It’s a space you’re happy to spend some time in. The kitchen is open to view—and the food coming out of that kitchen is worthy of hyperbole.

Chef Eduardo García, formerly of the esteemed Pujol, also worked at Manhattan’s star-strewn Le Bernardín, that high-falutin´temple of good fish. He has brought all of his gastronomic skills to his own place, along with his wife, the affable Gabriela. The only thing they left behind is pretension. The restaurant’s publicity claims that ‘materia prima’ is local and organic, if possible. The chef visits our spectacular markets daily, choosing what looks best,
then adroitly improvising a new menu each day.

The dishes are French and Italian in theory, Spanish in their simple elaboration, all with soulful respect for Mexican tradition. Food looks like food, not art.

The menu wisely sticks to five or six appetizers and the same number of ‘platos fuertes’.

A recent starter was so simply labeled it almost escaped my notice. ‘Sopa de raiz de apio y chicharro’ makes use of that divine root so common in France and so elusive here: celerie rave (celeriac in English). A simple, light cream of fresh pea, green as a Provençal field in spring, is perfumed with a refined essence of celery. The color and fragrance would have pleased Mme. Chanel. Esparragos y holandesa are not toyed with, just done correctly. They looked like the end result of an episode of The French Chef.

Another example: perfectly grilled octopus, tender as a baby’s thigh (must be) is complimented by a drizzle of ‘guajillo emulsion’. A couple of days later this combination had morphed into a brick-red creamy reduced chili sauce and a generous puddle of sautéed huitlacoche – essentially Mexican.

The tuna arrived seared on the top and sushi-pink in the middle, cloaked in a robe of red Mediterranean peperonata. Likewise, ‘filete de cerdo’ is left blushing and juicy in the center, as pork should be unless you’re doing carnitas. Smart.

Desserts are safely relegated to such Parisian bistro classics as a crackly crème bruleé or a rich pot de crème de chocolate. Richer still was a cheesecake of goat cheese, the likes of which I’ve seen neither in Paris, New York nor el DF.

The wine list is carefully chosen, featuring some unusual Mexican vintages—and there’s a good range of prices. Dinner with a glass of wine hovers around $300 pesos per person. A prix fixe comida is offered on weekdays for $150 pesos (ask if you don't see it on the menu).

After an excellent repast on a recent sun-drenched Sunday, my astute dining companion, The French Lady, recalled her favorite bistro in Paris, L’Ebauchoir. Wrinkling her nose in typical Parisian fashion, she agreed to be quoted. “This place reminds me of it.” she said. “It is very, very good!”

She needn’t say more. Nor will I.

Maximo Bistrot Local

Tonalá 133, corner of Zacatecas, (3 blocks south of

Av. Alvaro Obregón) Colonia Roma

Tel. 5264 4291

Open Tuesday – Saturday : 1 -11:00 pm,

Sunday, 11:00 am-7:00 pm

closed Monday

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Pardon My French: El Mercadito Francés

NOTE: This market will be closed as of Saturday, October 20, 2012 due to the closing of Le Bouchon and will be opening in a new location. They are appearing in different locations, meanwhile. Check their Facebook page for updates: https://www.facebook.com/groups/227532844004229/

I’d heard about the new Saturday ‘French market’ but was skeptical. It’s an alliance between savoir faire et savoir vivre claims the publicity. C’est bon. But is it good? The answer is a resounding “Oui!”

A small group of vendors of high level products, led by fromagier Olivier Bert set up tables in the pleasant, sunny patio of restaurant Le Bouchon, the rendez-vous point for the Franco-Mex community. Purveyors of breads and pastries, a Belgian chocolate maker, importers of wines and cheeses not available elsewhere, and the keeper of baskets of tempting (but pricey) Provençal sausages make for fun shopping and tasting. Quality is top level--because the crowd is French and KNOWS good food.

The good news for Polanco dwellers is that a fish monger is in residence – fresh fish is not readily available in this part of town. And Ricardo from Xochimilco presides over his table of fresh organic produce grown in his watery part of town. Ricardo is the organizer of De la Chinampa, a consortium of local growers who have few retail venues for their exquisite wares.

I loved the marché but perhaps savoir dépenser would be an apt description, for la vie belle doesn’t come cheap. I plunked down $300 for two smallish pieces of Morbier and St. Nectaire cheeses. But they were well worth the spurge, every bit as good as what I would (like to) buy at my beloved Parisian Marché Aligre (see my article). Price to quality here is fair.

Complimentary espresso is offered to shoppers, who are invited to sit at the bar and flirt, brasserie–style. Don your best black turtleneck, fake-smoke a Gauloise, and who knows, maybe you’ll hook yourself more than just a fish.

El Mercadito Francés

Saturdays from 9:30-1:30

El Patio de Le Bouchon, Julio Verne 102, corner of Virgilio, Polanco

The last market for this summer (2012) will be held July 14th - Bastille Day. The market will return in September. Meanwhile, visit the new San Angel branch: Jardín de la plaza Gran San Ángel Amargura 17 (parking in the plaza)

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In Search of Lost Time: Pâtisserie Dominique

I love Paris. Who doesn’t? I sometimes have fantasies of moving there, of being as French as possible, of breathing my last breath in a brasserie, napkin tucked in, spoon in hand, crème brulée cracked. Maybe that’s my future, maybe not. Meanwhile, I’ll make do with an occasional fattening visit (see my article on that), and a periodic foray into the land of Francofilia a la Mexicana that our great Euro-leaning city affords. But the best French food here is to be found at The French Lady’s house, that is, when she proffers an invitation.

One of my favorite parts of life in Paree is that morning experience, always full of bittersweet nostalgia for I don’t know what, when, sitting in a café, I tear open a warm, crusty, buttery croissant. Never in Mexico, nor, for that matter, anywhere else in the highly civilized world have I been able to recreate that divine Proustian sensation. Believe me, I’ve tried. In New York, no matter how good the pastry is, either the cup is paper, the price annoying, the traffic blaring or the company ornery - none conducive to reflection. In Madrid they put sticky stuff on their pastries so that you have to eat with knife and fork or you get punished-–ants at the meditative picnic. Here in Mexico, in theory, we have all the right elements for romance: old-fashioned cafés, a laid back, poetic ambience, nice people who think about life and death a lot. But no good croissants. Until now, that is.

Dominique, who hails from the Alsace area of France near Germany, where they know a thing or two about baking, works miracles. Her eponymously named French-style hole-in-the-wall patisserie has been quietly churning out pastries and little French breakfasts for over three years now. I don’t know how I missed it. Located on a quiet, fairly well preserved street in Colonia Roma that recalls Paris as far as possible in this urban jumble, you walk through pretty turn-of-the-century doors into another world. Exquisite looking chocolate confections are preserved under glass, and baskets of fresh breads and those buttery breakfast morsels await. Sit at one of the two little round tables, surrounded by light, swirly French grande-mère décor, and order. The complete breakfast, consisting of juice, eggs, bread and coffee is, at 100 peso, a bargain. There are only two choices both pure bistro: omelettes or oeufs en cocotte: eggs swirled with crème fraîche and baked in a little ramekin. Perfect. Coffee - I order ‘café crème’ of course – is rich as it should be. And there are those croissants. She even does the almond ones. Correctly. I can now have my Parisian moment not ten minutes from home. What does The French Lady think? With a reluctant Parisian sniff, she gives Dominique the heads up. Allons-y.

Patisserie Dominique
Chiapas 157-A (between Monterrey & Medellín), Col. Roma
Open Tuesday-Saturday 9:30-6:30, closed Sunday and, in true French fashion, Monday.
http://patisseriedominique.com.mx/