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B is for Bastide, from the letter B in a pot of sand next to the small fields of lavender outside Alain Giraud's restaurant in West Hollywood, to the B engraved on each piece of cutlery, a new set of which appears with each course. The service is great, the food is wonderful. What more can I say?
We dined at Bastide as a special treat to celebrate the end of the school year, and what better place to go than a quintessentially French restaurant? The father of one of my son's school classmates is the chef. He came out to our table to take Joe back to the kitchen, where his buddy was making some desserts for the early diners. Alain made some cake for one of the school birthdays and you know what? It was really astoundingly good!
This meal was no different. We began with a choice of three breads -- I sampled the rosemary and green olive, and the black olive breads. Then an amuse-bouche: a little bit of Maine lobster on top of a bed of rice-sized celery. Tres amusant! Everyone was wowed by the Provencal fish soup that I ordered -- rich red soup surrounding just a little bit of perfectly tender squid tentacle with a few soft rings underneath. Crowned with an intensely cheese-flavored crisp and wavy wafer and a few hairs of seaweed, this was a dish fit for Neptune. I wish I knew what that orange sauce was. Now we know why Neptune carries a fork!
I could skip directly to the dessert, but only in describing it. If I were actually at dinner, there is no way I would miss the John Dory. Invisibly crisp on the outside, tender on the inside, on a bed of delicious greens, a couple of little roasted garlic cloves nearby on a giant square plate.
There's a fundamental reason for the cheese course served at any French restaurant. To help you finish your wine, of course! I had a subtle and flavorful wine from Languedoc which matched the creamy cheeses nicely. It's pointless to try to describe a cheese course, except to say that it's the most important course of the entire meal.
Except of course for the dessert, which in this case was lavender ice cream. This was so good that I was unable to attempt describing it to my dinner companions until I had eaten the entire portion. Is that so wrong? I happily let them taste my fish soup. Ok, ok, I admit it. Completely different experience.
In case you live distant from West Hollywood, in this L.A. Times review S. Irene Verbila tells exactly how the lavender ice cream is made. Supposedly. Yeah, right. Well, maybe. Her description is pretty good anyway.
Bastide 8745 W. Melrose Place M-F seatings at 6 p.m. and 9 p.m. French wines only. Closed weekends.
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