“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man,
then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you,
for Paris is a moveable feast.”
I’ve often wondered if Ernest Hemingway would have felt at home in Taos during the “roaring twenties,” a period of dynamic artistic, societal and lifestyle upheaval. Instead of communing with the Taos Society of Artists and other inspired Bohemian minds, Hemingway spent much of the decade in Paris, a city whose own liberal attitudes attracted poets, painters and writers from throughout the world. Paris was a vibrant city which drew many expats from the so-called “lost generation” of cynical young people disillusioned with the materialism and individualism prevalent in society at the time.
Paris was not only a relatively inexpensive city in which to live, unlike America it did not have a prohibition against alcohol. The American expatriates–F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein among them–would gather at cafes to discuss their work and drink until their money ran out. Much of Hemingway’s most productive writing, in fact, took place in cafes which he visited with his characteristic blue notebooks, pencils and a pocket knife with which to sharpen them.
Hemingway was spellbound by the allure and sophistication of Parisian life, so utterly cosmopolitan and unlike the sedate and predictable conservative life of his youth in rural Illinois. Nightlife included visits to the Champs Elysee where Josephine Baker and a troupe of exotic nude dancers captivated the city. Long nights of drinking, concerts, dancing and stimulating conversation defined Hemingway’s madcap nightlife and that of his cafe society associates.
Aspects of Hemingway’s Paris can be found in Albuquerque’s P’Tit Louis Bistro which is fashioned like a Paris bistro of the early twentieth century. If you don’t look out the windows onto Silver Avenue, you might actually feel as if you’ve been transported to Paris of a bygone era, the era of Ernest Hemingway and the lost generation. P’Tit Louis is a special place frequented not by a lost generation, but by guests who don’t look as though they patronize the chains embraced by conventional society. It’s a place in which intellectual discourse can be overheard among diners who have likely traveled abroad and read Moveable Feast.
The painstakingly thorough attention taken by founding owners Christoph Decarpentiers and John Phinzyto re-create the art deco ambiance of a turn-of-the-century Parisian bistro left no detail untouched. Hardwood floors and furnishings with masculine black accents both bespeak of period authenticity and precise craftsmanship which is also apparent in the artisan construction of the hand-crafted art nouveau bar and other decorous touches. In 2015, Christoph sold P’Tit Louis to entrepreneur Dave Montoya who’s retained most of the touches that have P’Tit Louis an extraordinary French experience worthy of Hemingway himself.
The interior is cozy with fewer than a dozen tiny tables in personal space proximity to one another. The tables are obviously intended for dishes to be delivered in sequence, not for several dishes to be delivered at one time. Each table is adorned with linen tablecloths and napkins. A soundtrack featuring the soothing stylings of Edith Piaf and other French singers of decades past lend to a dining experience in which time seems to have stopped nearly a century ago.
The menu may inspire lascivious salivation. As in many French bistros, two menus are delivered to your table (if you’re thinking one is a wine menu, you’d be wrong). A small paper menu lists a nice selection of cheeses for the fromage fanatics among us. Proper etiquette is to enjoy cheeses after your main course and before or as a substitute for dessert. Cheeses are intended for nibbling as you enjoy conversation with your dining companions, hence it’s a digestive aide of sorts. Certainly your conversation will include a discourse of appreciation for the cheeses themselves, an international array from France, Italy, Spain, Greece, Denmark, England and the United States.
The larger laminated lunch and dinner showcase traditional French bistro fare. Compared to the compendium-sized menus at some restaurants, P’Tit Louis’s menu is petite–fittingly in consideration of the tiny tables. Both the lunch and dinner menus offer hors d’oeuvre, hot or cold appetizers, as well as plats (or plates). A seven item les moules (mussels) menu bespeaks of the French love for delicious bivalve mollusks. East Coast Blue Point oysters are available on the menu every Thursday and Friday.
Les Moules (mussels) are a specialty of the house with several versions featured daily along with a daily mussels creation. Once considered food for the poor, mussels have become earned reverential respect in the hands of French chefs. At the Bistro moules du jour include Moules Marinieres (steamed with white wine and shallots), Moules Roquefort (steamed with Roquefort sauce), Moules Piquantes (white wine, chili peppers, jalapeño) and Moules Saffron (saffron cream sauce).
As you contemplate the menu, one of the nattily attired wait staff will ferry over to your table plate of French bread (no doubt sliced from a baguette, an unofficial symbol of France). It will be the first of several slices you’ll either slather on the unctuous French butter or will use to dredge up some of the incredible sauces you’ll enjoy (a French tradition). With a hard-crusted exterior and a not quite pillowy soft interior, it’s a delicious bread.
Most Recent Visit: 13 July 2019
Francophiles are very quick to ascribe most culinary innovations to the French. Indeed, while French chefs may have introduced the world to many revolutionary techniques and standards, they didn’t invent brunch. In fact, until rather recently, brunch was a relatively unknown concept in France. That’s no longer the case. Going out for brunch is quite trendy nowadays. Sitting on the small patio in front of L’Ptit Louis may remind you of dining at a French sidewalk cafe for a great brunch. To experience this sidewalk cafe look-and-feel, visit during a weekend when the brunch menu is one of the very best in town. A three course menu starts as low as twenty-dollars, more if you want champagne or a mimosa
The prix fixe weekend brunch menu is a three-course extravaganza in which diners select one from each of three sections of the menu: hors d’oevres, les entrees and les desserts. My Kim chided me when I compared it to the “one from column A, one from column B” menus at Chinese restaurants of yore. For one thing, the menu isn’t organized in columns. For another, no matter how sublime we may find Chinese restaurants, none offer the outdoor patio experience we cherish. L’Ptit Louis is Paris in Albuquerque!
In our eight years of hot-and-humid living on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, we must have consumed a boatload of oyster po’ boys–thick French baguettes nestling cornmeal-battered oysters, lettuce, tomatoes and a smear or three of remoulade. Much as we enjoyed this traditional Louisiana sandwich favorite, we had to admit the bread may have been a bit heavy for the uniquely delicious, but delicate flavor of the oysters. Sandwich construction demands a bread to meat or seafood to condiment balance that showcases the named ingredient, in this case, the oyster.
P’Tit Louis’ seasonally available Frit Huîtres Crêpe (tempura fried oyster crêpe, bacon, mixed greens, Hollandaise sauce) gave me that long-sought balance. The light, delicate crepe proved a worthy sheath for the crispy yet tender and finespun oyster. Much like the remoulade we enjoyed on the Gulf Coast, the Hollandaise served a complementary role with its balance of buttery, cayenne and lemon-infused flavors. The only advantage we’d concede to an oyster po’ boy from Domilises in New Orleans is that a po’ boy will fill you up while the Frit Huîtres Crêpe will only whet your appetite for more.
For my Kim, the item on the hors d’oevres menu most appealing was the La Pâté Maison (house pâté served with cornichons). Much like caviar, pâté seems to be a dish associated with wealth. That holds true especially for gourmet duck or goose pâté which can indeed be very pricey. Pâté is simply a mixture of seasoned ground seafood, poultry, meat, or vegetables, and often a combination of several different base ingredients. It need not be expensive or “uppity.” In fact, translate the very same pâté into the German liverwurst and you’d probably think it’s a pretty pedestrian (as in common, certainly not flavor).
There’s another school of thought about pâté, one that’s echoed in a quote from novelist Kingsley Amis who lamented, “I sometimes feel that more lousy dishes are presented under the banner of pâté than any other.” That certainly hasn’t been our experience in Albuquerque’s French restaurants, all of which take great pride in the pâté they serve. P’Tit Louis offers some of the best pâté in the city, a perfect pairing for the crusty French bread. As for cornichons, what can be said about maybe the best little pickles in creation?
In an episode of Hogan’s Heroes, the French prisoner-of-war and accomplished chef LeBeau offered to prepare a steak for Schultz, the German guard. When Schultz indicated he wanted his steak “well done,” LeBeau’s retort was “you sure know how to hurt a chef.” No French chef would ever transform a beautiful slab of beef into coal. For French chefs, the optimum degree of doneness for any steak is medium rare, officially defined as steak cooked to an internal temperature of 135 degrees. That’s precisely how my Le Steak Maitre D ́Hotel arrived at our table.
More precisely, I asked our server to have the chef prepare it the way he sees fit. It certainly affirmed my faith in chefdom that six-ounce New York strip was done to my exacting desires. As The Spruce Eats confirms “medium rare steaks “give you the maximum amount of tenderness and juiciness while ensuring that the center of the steak is warm. The interior of a medium-rare steak will be mostly pink with just a tiny bit of red in the center, and the interior temperature is between 130 F and 140 F.” The steak was seasoned with salt, pepper and garlic and topped with a delicious dollop of herb butter which melted magnificently onto the steak.
My Kim’s choice was the Moules Marinières (mussels steamed in white wine & shallots) which were quite good though they fell short compared to other mussels offerings on the menu. That’s no indictment on the Moules Marinières, but rather an endorsement of just how superb the Moules Roquefort (mussels steamed in a blue cheese sauce) and Moules Piquantes (mussels prepared in Cayenne) are. As always, the mussels were exemplars of deliciousness, but the broth could have used a bit more white wine and shallots)
The Les Deserts menu lists only four items: Cherry Clafoutis , Creme Brulee, Chocolate Mousse, and Lemon Tartlet. That means we had exactly half of them during our brunch soiree. It also means we have two other dessert options remaining to try during future visits.
Throughout the Deep South, little pies are a staple. Much like a personal pan pizza, they’re meant to sate one diner, not be sliced and portioned. P’Tit’s Lemon Tartlet reminded me how much we enjoyed little pies (particularly pecan) when we lived in Mississippi. The lemon tartlet evokes a pleasant pucker effect, not a full lip-pursing. It’s got a nice balance of tartness and sweetness with sliced strawberries lending a surprising dimension. This is a perfect summer dessert, not too heavy or too sweet.
It may indicative of the perception that French cuisine is somewhat haughty that a dessert as sublime and delicious as cherry clafoutis is often considered “peasant food” in France. Okay, so it’s not as sophisticated as other French desserts, but to dismiss it as peasant food is almost insulting (although some of the best foods in the world–barbecue, Cajun and even New Mexican–are also referred to as peasant foods). Clafoutis derives from the word clafir, which means “to fill.” Its preparation, involves lining a dish with cherries and then “filling it up” with a batter mixture. Texturally, it’s reminiscent of American bread puddings. It’s just as delicious, too.
30 April 2011: The bread is perfect for dredging up the broth in which the Moules Curry (a special of the day) is served. The curry is a perfect foil for the delicate, slightly briny flavor of the succulent shellfish. The curry broth, saffron in color and mild in flavor, is ameliorated with minced garlic. It would make an excellent soup on its own. 28 December 2011: Perhaps even better than the moules curry is the moules Roquefort, a dish so outstanding that the venturous diner about town Jim Millington orders it every time he visits. It’s easy to see why. This traditional coalescence of land and sea flavors showcases the pungent blue cheese flavor of the “king of cheeses,” rendered just slightly less sharp with fresh cream and a mill of pepper. If you’ve never had a palatable cheese soup, you’ve never had the moules Roquefort broth tinged with the briny deliciousness of fresh mussels. It’ll hook you.
30 April 2011: On Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, the Bistro offers fresh oysters on the half-shell if you’re inclined to luxuriate further in hard-shelled seafood. If you’re more inclined toward hard-shelled land delicacies, you’ll love P’Tit Louis’ escargots de Bourgogne, a half-dozen escargots in garlic butter. Unlike so many escargots, these are not extricated from their shells and deposited in small cups filled mostly with bread crumbs and minced garlic. You’ll have to work for these delicious beauties. Fortunately you’re given the implements with which to accomplish this deft feat–a full-sized fork in which the exterior tongs have been bent back and a tool that looks like a surgical implement, but is used to hold the escargots while you extract the buttery, garlicky delicacies. It’s worth the effort and more.
7 September 2013: Escargots and oysters constitute two of the “exotic” foods some people won’t even try. Rather than bemoan that parochial attitude, we should celebrate that unacculturated diners don’t try them because that leaves more for those of us who love them so much. My introduction to oysters, both fried and raw, took place in Boston more than half my lifetime ago. It was love at first bite. That love was rekindled by an oyster po’ boy at P’Tit Louis, a po’ boy constructed with oysters from the cold North Atlantic waters near Boston. Unlike some of the overstuffed oyster po’ boys we ate by the boatload in New Orleans, you could count the oysters on this po’ boy in just over one hand. The oysters are perfectly prepared, a light breading sheathing the unique “ocean” flavor of each golden mollusks. The baguette was lightly toasted with an airy texture. A creamy dressing lent moistness.
30 April 2011: During our inaugural visit, we lucked upon the ragout du jour being Coq Au Vin, the classic French stew whose origin (claimants to its invention include Julius Caesar’s chef) is in delicious dispute. Featuring a single chicken leg cooked in red wine with onions, carrots and celery atop a generous mound of mashed potatoes, this is a version perhaps improvable only with pearl onions instead of sliced onions. Otherwise, this is a very enjoyable dish. The chicken falls off the bone into a wine blessed broth that’s perfect for sopping up with that terrific bread. The wine broth also serves as an excellent “gravy” for the mashed potatoes, made with real potatoes.
17 December 2011: The tasty temptress offered during our second visit was a bone-in pork chop topped with a sumptuous sauce showcasing spicy tomatoes and cornichons, essentially two acidic flavors which coexist beautifully together against a backdrop of America’s other white meat. The pork chop, a half-inch of tender porcine perfection plays the foil against the crunchy tartness of the cornichons and especially the sharpness of the mound of chopped, spicy tomatoes. It’s an interesting sauce, not one I could find among the 103 basic French sauces, but one now on my radar.
It wasn’t so much the haute cuisine of France’s grand, elegant restaurants which won my heart during frequent visits to France in the 1990s, but the more simple family fare–bread, cheeses and meats. In France, as in much of Europe, the ancient culinary art of charcuterie is still highly revered and well-practiced. Charcuterie refers to the products made and sold in a delicatessen-style shop, also called a charcuterie. The operative word here is “made” as in butchering, cutting, salting, curing, slicing, storing and preparing such meat products such as bacon, sausage, ham, pates, and more. As Bon Apetit Magazine has discovered, the charcuterie practice is alive and well in America, too.
17 December 2011: In the spirit of the Charcuterie, P’tit Louis offers L’Assiette de Charcutaille, a beautiful plating of cornichons, country pate, rosemary-encrusted ham, sopressata, garlic sausage and Spanish chorizo served with as much bread as you desire if you want to construct a sandwich or four. As good as the bread is, my preference is to enjoy each meat unadorned, using a cornichon as a palate-cleanser. The cornichons are delightful little French baby “pickles,” with a zesty, tangy snap. Each of the meats offered is deliciously different from the other, offering a nice balance of salty, spicy, sweet and piquant flavors.
30 April 2011: Landlocked Albuquerque, stereotyped as being too far from the verdant paradises which produce sheer freshness in their fecund fields, has a surprising number of restaurants showcasing salads constructed of high-quality, fresh ingredients. Add P’Tit Louis to the list if the Betteraves & Chevre (roasted beet and goat cheese) salad is any indication. A very understated sherry vinaigrette means the ingredients have to shine and shine they do. The greens are crisp and firm with a just-picked freshness. The roasted beets are sweet with just a hint of tanginess and the roasting lends a depth of flavor, particularly in accentuating the beets’ natural sweetness. The goat cheese is as soft as cream cheese and is impregnated with a sweet, mild pungency. it’s a delicious chevre.
7 September 2013: At many French bistros steak frites is a standard menu offering, often the most popular entree. The “steak” part of that term is pretty ambiguous because each chef at each bistro determines how to prepare it. P’Tit Louis’ rendition is bold and flavorful, prepared in the au poivre (a literal translation would be “pepper steak”) style. Peppercorns give this steak a very lively “peppery” flavor without taking away from the deliciousness of the high-quality boneless cut of beef. A wine gravy lends a rich quality. Prepared at medium-rare, it’s one of the best steaks we’ve had at a French restaurant in New Mexico. The frites (French fries) are double-fried and virtually greaseless, so good that to add ketchup would be a desecration.
30 April 2011: When my sweet-toothed Kim joined me in England in 1985, it surprised her to learn that French gateaus and desserts weren’t nearly as cloying as cakes and desserts in America. It’s something I liked from the start, but it took her time to get used to desserts that weren’t tooth-decaying sweet. The Bistro’s desserts remind me very much of the desserts in France, an expression of natural flavors, not sugared ameliorants. The Creme de Caramel reminded me of a Mexican flan, but far less sweet. Better even is the chocolate pot de creme, a ramekin of semi-sweet adult chocolate. It’s the antithesis of the American version which tastes more like chocolate frosting.
17 December 2011: In the spirit of fairness and balance (please, no comments about Fox News), there is one item on the menu which not only didn’t win me over, but left me flummoxed. Found faulty was the tarte aux citron, a lemon tart with nary the zest and tartness of lemon. The only lip-pursing effect it had was in leaving our bottom lips downturned with disappointment. In addition to lacking any hint of tartness, it had the texture of a corn-starchy out-of-the-box mix. Jim Millington, who suggested a rating of “32” would be appropriate will hopefully forgive my assessment of “24” which still places this charming restaurant among the elite in New Mexico.
Ernest Hemingway would have liked hanging out at P’Tit Louis Bistro with his literary colleagues. You’ll like being transported to Hemingway’s time for a very good meal in a sophisticated bistro worthy of many visits.
P’Tit Louis Bistro
3218 Silver Avenue, S.E.
Albuquerque, New Mexico
LATEST VISIT: 7 September 2013
1st VISIT: 30 April 2011
# OF VISITS: 3
COST: $$ – $$$
BEST BET: Les Moules with Curry, Les Moules Roquefort, Les Moules Saffron, Escargots de Bourgogne, Coq Au Vin with Aligot, Betteraves & Chevre, L’ Assiette de Charcutaille, Steak Frites, Oyster Po’ Boy, Chocolait Pot de Creme, Creme de Caramel