AT YOUR SERVICE
Warm, welcoming atmosphere goes down well at The French Table on Main Street.
Herve Martin had carved some serious notches on his belt by age 26. A stint with the famous Troisgros brothers at their three- Michelin star restaurant in France as well as with the equally famous Paul Bocuse. He’d also been the chef for the Belgian royal family in Brussels.
Then some Canadians persuaded him to move to Canada. When he arrived, he worked in Hull, Que., moved on to Toronto ( the King Edward Hotel) and then, voila! A bit of arm- twisting brought him to Vancouver to the Five Sails restaurant at the Pan Pacific Hotel just before Expo 86.
Vancouverites will know him best as the owner and chef of The Hermitage, which hummed along for 24 years in a Robson Street courtyard until he was asked last year to make way for redevelopment.
Martin relocated to Main Street to open The French Table, more down- market than the whitetablecloth Hermitage and the first French bistro on Main.
On Main Street, renovating the building ( the former Purple Crab) grew from a hoped- for $ 100,000 budget to $ 500,000 as plumbing, electrical, sewer system, all needed redoing.
The French Table isn’t Main Street hip. It’s a straight- ahead French bistro serving good, affordable, accessible food in a warm and welcoming room. Martin learned a lesson at The Hermitage when a back operation temporarily disabled him in the kitchen forcing him to the front of the house.
Business went up by 38 per cent; i. e., there’s profit in personable service, folks. He’s remained in front of house ever since.
On my first visit, I loved the appies but thought the entrées were more of a " like." Pan- fried sweetbreads with kohlrabi remoulade were excellent and the escargot with garlic butter had me purring at its garlic- infused approach to the table.
Coq au vin and bouillabaisse, however, were merely fine. The chicken wasn’t flavour- filled or soused with red wine; the seafood wasn’t stellar.
Next visit, I loved the frisée salad with soft- poached egg and lardons, and seared scallops with garlic apple emulsion were excellent. Duck confit cassoulet with Toulouse sausage and braised pork provoked my husband to keep visiting my plate with fork in hand. Meanwhile, I attacked his New York steak and absorbed most of his pomme frites.
The desserts need tweaks. The tart tatin didn’t have an intense caramelization and was too mushy. A chocolate and cherry torte looked more haute than bistro and flavours were lovely, but the torte and the sable cookie beneath it were almost impossible to cut through with a fork.
The wines are chosen for good value; it would be nice to see more French wines listed; it’s always nice to pair French food and wine.
Martin says he’s planning on going more regional with the French menu, zeroing in on his Burgundian roots. I’ve put in a request for something I loved on a trip through Burgundy: eggs meurette, where eggs are poached in red wine.
Martin brought many of his loyal Robson Street staff members with him.
“I have my gang,” he says, of the longtime staff he brought with him. His dishwasher has been with him for 22 years.
What’s changed, however, is the addition of female servers in a previously male domaine, which is certainly a good move on Main.
The older, male waiters from The Hermitage, however, add a European je ne sais quois.
“The young servers have bonded with the ones I call ‘ old farts,’ ” he says, adding: “I’m joking.”
The front of house set a good example of what service could and should be, even in mid- range restaurants.