Bistro Les Gras
25 West Street, Northampton
(413) 320-4666
Tue.-Thu. 5 p.m.-9 p.m.
Fri.-Sat. 5 p.m.-10 p.m.
Sunday brunch 10 a.m.-2 p.m.
Entrees $12-$26
Bistro Les Gras has been calling my name since it first opened its doors this past spring. Ever since spending a summer in the countryside of France during college, I have been hunting down authentic French food, full of flavor (and "gras", which translates to fat) but without the stuffy pretense of so many Francophile eateries.
On a recent Friday evening, my boyfriend and I found ourselves at one of the quaint tables perched beside the glass storefront. The lights were dimmed to emphasize the warm golden walls, and the simple aesthetic with French touches (wine tasting and charcuterie menus written in marker on a long mirror and an exposed wooden winerack) gave the space an air of romance and luxury that put us in the mood… to eat.
The charcuterie and cheese menu changes often. During our meal, three cured meats and both regional and French cheeses made up the "Carte Les Gras" menu. A salty, chewy Jambon de Bayonne was like a thicker, more substantial pancetta. Saucissons de Basque, which came in paper-thin circles, was red with chili and dotted with pungent garlic. C'est l'essence de la France! Served with thin slices of baguette, tiny pickles and grainy mustard, it impressed me at first bite.
The wine list is extensive and exciting, but we had our eyes set on a bottle from U.S. soil. Our Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley's Bergstrom Winery had my boyfriend yearning for his Oregon days as a winemaker's assistant, so distinct is the region's terroir.
Soupe de citrouillle turned out to be an earthy blend of pumpkin puree, stock, and rich butter. Accented with crisp brown sugar croutons and a drizzling of sage oil, the bowl seemed the definition of autumn.
Flan de Patate Douce, a savory sweet potato custard, was more unusual. Less creamy than I expected, the custard had an almost sponge-like quality, more akin to a baked sweet potato than a flan. Nonetheless, sweet potato flavor and color shone through, and a thin strip of maple-glazed ham was remarkable in its chip-like crispness and surprisingly intense burst of salty and sweet.
Our entrees were less dazzling both to look at and to sample. Poulet Roti, a simple roasted half chicken, seemed near-perfect until I moved on from the breast to the drumstick. Where the tender white meat had been moist and superbly cooked, the dark meat was nearly raw. Beatifully smooth potato puree and a rich sauce of onions, tomatoes, and mushrooms made for a tasty bed, however.
Porc et haricots, a square of braised pork over flageolet beans with an apple relish, was a bland, monotone plate. The pork, thankfully, was tender and salty, as hoped, and the apple relish was fresh and refreshingly tart against the meat. The beans, though, lacked any distinctive seasoning.
Dessert refreshed my faith. A bright lemon tarte left nothing to be desired in the taste department, although the yellow wedge looked a bit lonely with no garnish at all on the white dish. A pear and apple clafoutis, one of my favorite French enders, was equally tasty and equally unimpressive visually. An eggy custard created a thin base for oven-tender fall fruits—a timeless classic, bland with no color save beige to speak of.
Bistro Les Gras has all the ingredients for a flawless French restaurant, but could use a bit of finish work. I was more than adequately impressed with the menu's mix of creativity and tradition this fall, however, to give it a third visit (my first was in the restaurant's first month) when the menu changes this winter. Blown away I was not, but I tasted a glimpse of the true "belle pays", and believe Chef Daniel is on his way to a lovely success if he just smoothes the wrinkles in his kitchen.
