Table 28 de Daniel Rose (ex-Spring)
Une salle minuscule, une petite cuisine ouverte, deux tables de huit, il est 20 heures 30, l’heure de passer à table. C’est ainsi, de la plus simple des manières que le coup de feu est donné chez Daniel Rose. Anciennement Spring, l’établissement se nomme à présent la Table 28 laissant l’ancien nom à la boutique fraîchement ouverte rue de l’Arbre Sec, et à une table à venir rue Bailleul. Et Daniel Rose, c’est ce petit gars de Chicago qui a travaillé auprès d’Alleno au Meurice, et surtout, c’est celui qui par sa virtuose a fait taire les pires bouffeurs plumitifs de la capitale.
Convivialité et efficacité
L’attente est d’une cordialité toute familiale, autour d’un verre de vin. Les convives, tous serrés les uns contre les autres, finissent toujours par échanger regards et impressions.
Puis, sans crier gare déboule l’amuse-bouche, une tranche de poule avec un bouillon aux accents asiatiques – peut-être un héritage de sa nounou chinoise -, imparable. Des accords parfaitement maîtrisés dans une légèreté et une rapidité à couper le souffle. C’est dans la simplicité que le talent se reconnaît le mieux. De la même façon, des sucrines, de la pomme en dés, des champignons, des copeaux de parmesan, accompagnés de quelques herbes finement dosées, et voici une entrée aussi directe dans sa mise que réussie. De nouveau, des accents orientalisants viennent hanter l’assiette.
La rôtisserie parfaitement maîtrisée
Mais le clou du spectacle ce soir-là, devait être et fut l’agneau de lait des Pyrénées accompagné d’une purée de céleri à l’onctuosité fascinante. Avec ce plat, Daniel Rose nous démontre qu’il manie la cuisson comme Clint Eastwood apprivoise la lumière et la puissance sourde du minimalisme dans Million Dollar Baby. C’est rigoureux, d’une simplicité évidente, et pourtant tout est là comme essentiel.
Passé le cap de l’agneau, ma délicieuse compagne de dîner ne goûtant guère le fromage, je partageai alors un mont d’or au four avec nos voisins, le psychologue du New Jersey à la mère ashkénaze et au père séfarade, et sa femme. Là, rien à dire, si ce n’est que la bouteille de la Chaume rouge par Estelle et Christian Chabirand, un jus soyeux issu de la biodynamie qui mit du temps à trouver sa vitesse de croisière, avec sa vigueur toute animale et ses arômes empyreumatiques, accompagna tout le repas d’une générosité aussi élégante que terrienne.
Seul le dessert, un gâteau aux poires eut droit à un surprenant superflu qui, comme son nom l’indique, ne méritait en rien sa présence sur l’assiette. Et pourtant, il est absolument impossible de parler d’un ratage tant il était succulent en tout point.
Après cela, difficile d’ajouter quoi que ce soit si ce n’est souligner un grand élan enthousiaste, des applaudissements en veux-tu, en-voilà et une belle émotion. 2010 commence à me plaire. Et si la perfection n’est pas de ce monde et qu’il serait inélégant d’y prétendre, on peut néanmoins y tendre. Ah oui, et elle coûte 45€ (sans le vin à 38€).
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Table 28 by Daniel Rose (former Spring)
A tiny dining room, a couple of 8 seaters table, a small open kitchen, it’s 8:30pm: dinner time. The evening begins that simply at Daniel Rose’s. Formerly called Spring, the place is now named Table 28, leaving the older name to the recently opened boutique in the centre of Paris. And Daniel Rose is the kid from Chicago who once worked with Alleno at the Meurice, and who moreover achieved to shut all the hack writers’ mouth by his own talent.
Conviviality and efficiency
Sitting there side by side feels like waiting on a dinner in a family house, with a small glass of wine in a hand, everyone ending speaking to each other. Then suddenly, the appetizer is served: a small slice of hen with a asian-flavoured broth. Light and close to perfect. Some salad, dices of apple, mushrooms, parmesan cheese, the right mix of herbs: the first course is a simple as straightforward. Oriental vibes again in the seasoning.
But the star of the evening waw yet to appear on stage: the suckling lamb from the pyreneans, served with incredibly creamy mashed celeri. In the process, Daniel Rose displays his art of roasting like Clint Eastwood displays the art of lighting in Million Dollar Baby. It is meticulously simple, almost obvious, always essential.
The perfect grill
Passed the main course, I shared a roasted Mont d’Or with the jolly couple from New Jersey sitting next to us, and there isn’t much to say about it save the fact that the bottle of red Chaume by Estelle and Christian Chabirand (an organic wine) fitted elegantly and generously the whole meal, although it took a while for all the flavours to blossom.
An all-pear cake with pears, topped with pears was the dessert. There were one or two ingredients too many on it, but not many enough to spoil the party, for it was really and simply good.
At the end of the day, it is hard to mention anything but enthusiasm and emotion towards this place. And if nothing is perfect, and pretention is enelegant, then trying to get close is still the least we can do. 45€ the attempt. Plus wine 38€.
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Table 28
28, rue de la Tour d’Auvergne 75009 Paris
Tél. 06 42 87 79 64
Site Internet : http://table28paris.blogspot.com/
20 Commentaires
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Looks very nice, always wanted to go to Spring. Is it as hard to get a reservation as in Spring?
I believe it is much easier now since everyone waits for the new venue to open. I wasn’t even sure the former still existed before I called.
Je n’y suis jamais allée et à la lecture de ton post je vendrais ma mère pour y voler, et ce alors même que je sors d’un déj gargantuesque!! Je prends note en tout cas, à tenter rapidement.
Vas-y en courant ! Je suis sûr que sa petite tête d’ashken hypocondriaque te fera craquer
I’m one half of the New Jersey couple who dined with you at 28, and just wanted to let you know that we, too, thought the food was superb in its simplicity. We enjoyed your company as well. A bientot, j’espere.
[...] 75009 Paris), c’est l’Ex-Spring de Daniel Rose, transformé en mini rôtisserie. Mr Lung a été charmé! Certes, comme l’a écrit Meg Zimbeck, ce n’est pas Spring, mais [...]
il reste quelques places pour le diner du samedi 30 janvier 2010 à la Table 28
http://chrisoscope.com/2010/01/27/qui-veut-diner-a-la-table-28-de-daniel-rose-samedi-30-janvier-2010/
[...] très bien l’Auberge des Abers, dont le chef et patron est une référence pour Daniel Rose. Mr Lung avait diné à la Table 28 il y a quelques semaines à peine, et il est de retour. Fabrice, de [...]
RE: “nos voisins, le psychologue du New Jersey à la mère ashkénaze et au père séfarade…”
I noticed that a translation of the above did not make it into the English version.
Would you like to explain why?
No, I do not like to explain why. But to make it clear before any R-word comes up, my English does not allow me to translate the tongue-in-cheek distanced tone I use in French.
Maybe I took your tongue-in-cheek tone too matter-of-factually, or maybe as an American, your neighbor’s parentage is about as remarkable as the classic Catholic combo- Italian and Irish- and bringing it up denotes, well, what, exactly?
I wouldn’t suggest the r-word, honestly, but I’ll stand behind the P-C-words, while at the same time recognizing that the concept translates differently, culturally and linguistically. (However, I still cannot bring myself to describe someone as, for example, “la petite chinoise,” though it seems to be perfectly acceptable in French.) As wonderfully multi-ethnic, -racial and -cultural as Paris is, particularly here in the 9eme, anti-semitism is generally agreed to be a worsening problem in France, and it seems particularly misplaced in the context of a review of this restaurant.
For translation purposes, why not try “the jolly Jewish couple from New Jersey?” The alliteration would preserve your “tongue-in-cheek, distanced tone” and close the distance between the two translations.
I look forward to reading the rest of your resto reviews, and if you would ever like help with your english, let me know.
Sorry, “un lecteur” but if the guy from New Jersey is Jewish, it does not imply that his wife is also Jewish, so your “the jolly Jewish couple from New Jersey” does not fit!
I guess that my friend Mr. Lung did not see the origins of his neighbour on his face. The guy probably talked about himself and his parents, and that’s all.
And yes, why do you consider that there is a problem in saying or writing that someone seems to have Chinese, or Arab, or Swedish origins? When something is so obvious, and when there is no negative implication, it is just part of a description…
OK thanks Chris. I’m going to put things straight once for all. Facts are: indeed we had a laugh because this person – whose conversation was a pleasure – responded to the cliché of East Coast American Ashkenaze psychologist. And he added that he was actually even worse than the cliché since his mother was Ashken and his dad was Sef’. That’s for the story. Michael, I’m really sorry if you read this because I know you left a comment and you know we had a great time.
Now dear Lecteur,
Political correctness is the least of my concern. The euphemism you suggest simply irks me.
I’ve always chosen to be as factual as possible in English, whereas freedom remained the key in French. Since you seem to be bilingual, I strongly suggest you stuck to the parts your eyes can bare to decipher, without trying to compare both versions… or read another blog.
Any remarks about the food and its description, any hints about the place will always be welcome. But linking the use of the words “Ashkenaze” and “Sepharade” to “Anti-semitism” will not be tolerated here.
Remember: the place belongs to a Chink.
PS Daniel Rose’s assistant is a bloody viking
Chrisos: Is there really no negative implication when one’s ethnicity is used as a noun? or is it just left up to the interpretation of the speaker’s (possible) bias? or the listener’s? I have no problem with “d’origine _______ .” I have a problem because “une petite chinoise” only says that a woman (or girl? or a girly woman?) is small. (And therefore not to be taken seriously?) I have a problem because ID-ing a person by their ethnicity or nationality is limiting, and precisely because it is NOT descriptive of the PERSON.
Mr. Lung: I have no doubt that your conversation was lovely and genial. And if he put himself in the place of a stranger reading a review on the internet, I’d bet that even (American) Micheal might find your description a bit odd. And it’s odder still that that bit of info didn’t make it into your English translation.
It’s not ABOUT your conversation- it’s about why you would PUBLICLY choose to describe someone’s parentage so specifically, when even just saying s/he was Jewish would suffice. So I asked you (and politely, I may add) and you refused to answer, and now you seem to be all pissed off because a full explanation is necessary.
In English, to say someone is Jewish is not a euphemism: it’s an adjective describing an ethnicity. On the other hand, to call someone a Jew, a little Mexican, a Chink, a Paddy, or a wetback, is something else- not necessarily racism (remember: you brought it up)- but a strong, negative bias.
An ongoing question of mine, in translation and moreover,intention, is what does it mean in French to identify someone by their ethnicity? I used “une petite chinoise” as an example, a description I’ve heard often. Along with being advised by a friend to take my coat to “the Turk” when I was asking about a tailor, although my local ones are from Africa. Along with a well-educated young friend, part-Jewish, part Moroccan, all-Parisian, saying he was being “Jewed” for money he owed a relative. Along with the smirk I so often encounter every time I open my mouth and my American “accent mignon” pops out: being THE American is a role in which I am still not comfortable, but am I really in it, or is it a turn of phrase? None of these examples have translated well for me, coming from the land of Bengali cabdrivers and Korean delis (d’origine juive), where there are no tailors anymore, no one even blinks at your accent, the Chinese women are often as not tough as nails no matter their stature, and if you used Jew as a verb, you would be ostracized, much as the religious, Sephardic Frenchwoman is in a class I take here. Or as Mel Gibson is in Hollywood.
Maybe it is my own deciphering problem… facts are: I was reading along just fine, thank you, in French when I noticed that the review followed in English, which I read faster. When I switched, I understood that the parents of the psychologist were not actually at the table with you, so I re-read. I wondered. And I asked.
And I asked you not as a Chink- and I would never call you that, not least because I don’t know the word in argot français- but as a bilingual French person, someone who described “asian-flavoured broth,” who translated “les pires bouffeurs plumitifs” as hack writers for me, and someone who has the creativity to compare a perfect roast to minimalist lighting. All you had to say was that his parents came up in conversation.
I don’t care that Daniel Roses’s nou nou might have been Chinese. Or that his assistant is a viking; I’m part viking, too, but it’s another word I don’t have occasion to use in French. I’ll stick with “d’origine norvégienne, côté arrière grand-mère.”
The devil always finds work for idle hands to do. This is not the place to deal with those endless racial discussions. This website will never be candied in the sweet political correctness you believe your eyes deserve. The origin of Daniel’s nanny was important in the text, but you chose not to care about it. Too bad. Jewish is not an ethnicity, it’s a religion. Too bad.
To quote a famous American pataphysician and sometimes Monarch of the World: “the game is over”. Conversation terminated.
bla bla bla… boring
1)I thought that freedom of speech was part of the first amendment… so respect it!
2) America is the most hypocrite country I know. You have to thank god for everyting and even swear on the bible before telling the truth. That would be the first lie for me!
Wai!
I’m delighted that you have discovered Daniel Rose and his talent! I have not yet dined at his establishment, but I shared a lovely Thanksgiving dinner with him at the home of a mutual friend…such a nice guy!…I vowed to make a reservation, which I’ve since neglected to do….thanks for the reminder! I will call tout de suite!
Hope to see you soon!
Jennifer (face a monde…you remember=)
Dear Mr “Lecteur”
As I am also American. I assume you have never met the charming Mr. Lung in person, nor have you apparently met Mr. Rose, who has a delightful sense of humour. Please see the following excerpt from the following New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/17/dining/17hanu.html It’s a very nice article and I cordially invite you to read it in its entirety.
“My landlord is Jewish, my neighbors are Jewish and it is safe territory in this neighborhood,” he said. When his neighbors learned he was Jewish, he said, they began to open up to him. The chocolate maker invited him for Passover, and chided him for not dating Jewish girls. “I guess I am on their Jewdar,” he said.
See how he uses the phrase “Jewdar”? I really don’t think he would disapprove of this very nice review!
As for Mr. Lung; he is a humanitarian with a heart of gold and is in no way a racist. If you knew him as I do, you would not make such accusations against his high character.
I wish you a nice day, none the less.
I wish I will eat there someday!