No Small Pleasure

by Chris Becicka

Ahhh, April in Paris.

Or May in Parkville.

Whichever, it’s the idea of the Paris countryside that’s important here—that and good food in a no-longer-unexpected place. If you live north, you’ve probably been here, but if you’ve not made the short trek to Parkville recently, you’ll be amazed to see what has happened to this once-sleepy, little town that still manages to retain its charm even as you search for a parking space.

The short climb up to Café des Amis sets the stage. You’re surrounded by greenery this time of year and the decks beckon you to stay outside. On a gorgeous day last fall during the Park University art fair, my last visit there, three of us spent a couple of hours for lunch, enchanted with the colors, the ambiance even on a platform, and the food.

But tonight we chose to go inside the pale yellow walls with their lacey curtains on the windows and be seated a bit more formally at the white-suited tables with their single yellow rosebuds. Though tables were close, it wasn’t claustrophobic, but cozy; and the noise did not reverberate and crash about us in the rooms that were quite happily busy on a Saturday night.

I thought one of the six champagnes would be nice, but remembering I was here to write instead of drink, we opted for one of the 16 wines listed by the glass. Though I looked only quickly, I think all were from France, which seemed appropriate. They do have a full bar with a few stools, four beers, and 16 different whites and 23 red by the bottle, from $24 to $95.

So, mon portly ami and I split the moules marinieres falcon odile, a.k.a. mussels with sherry, shallots, herbs and cream ($10.50), which were so good we called for more of the little crusty (need I say French?) loaf of bread which came to us with such good butter. The chef-made pâté with onion confit and tiny pickles (they sound better when they’re call cornichons) was smooth and rich. The pâté I mean.

Of the three salads, I wanted the one with foie gras ($16.50) but instead thought I should try the “house” one which came with roasted portabella mushrooms, blue cheese, and sweet, spiced pecans. The salade au fromage de chevre consisted of large croutons, spread with goat cheese, placed around greens. Both of these were $9.50 each and excellent.

We could have stopped here, actually.

But we didn’t, of course. Along with the six meat entrées (about $21 to $28), which included steak, free range chicken, pork, rack of lamb, venison and duck, five fish dishes and three specials. I chose the duck, which came with a cheesy, layered potato square, asparagus, and baby tomatoes with parmesan. The flavors complemented each other, and while I’m not usually a duck lover, this was delicious. The special hali-boot, as pronounced by our cute French (in the country five years) waiter, was placed on a seasoned rice and done perfectly with a sauce so delicious I can’t even speculate as to its content.

What’s a French meal without a petit dessert? From the seven listed, we chose the pairing of crème brûlée (yes, I know it’s everywhere but it’s Portly’s favorite) and mousee au chocolat. Both were different from what I expected because they were so creamy as to be almost liquid.

They slid down like a velvety milkshake in a fat toddler.

The French Renaissance thinker Michel Eyquem de Montaigne (1533-1592) wrote that, “The art of dining well is no slight art, the pleasure not a slight pleasure.” Of course, he never made it to Café des Amis, but he certainly could have been talking about this little bistro in Parkville.