BostonHerald.com - the Edge: Pierrot

Pierrot
272 Cambridge St., Boston, 617-725-8855

Pierrot brings taste of Paris to Boston
Review by Mat Schaffer
Friday, October 29, 2004

In a city of many self-styled bistros, Pierrot is the real deal. Walk into this tiny Cambridge Street storefront and you'll feel like you're in France. Much of the staff is French and the service is Old World attentive - your water glass never goes empty and crumbs are brushed up after every course. Even the bread dough is from Paris, shipped frozen, baked on-site and presented on a paper doily in a silver tray.

The menu of Gallic comfort foods couldn't be more authentic. Is there anyplace else in the Hub where you can choose from boneless pigs' feet salad, steak au poivre, duck confit with red cabbage and tripes a la mode de Caen (slow-cooked tripe, marrow bones and Calvados) on any given night? Earlier this week, the special was veal kidneys. This is true French fare, unadulterated for American palates.

Chef Jacky Robert, formerly of Maison Robert, Locke-Ober and Chatham Bars Inn, seems to be having a terrific time. Robert is in and out of the swinging kitchen doors - fetching endives from a storeroom, personally delivering chocolate souffles fresh from the oven and bantering with a party of language students practicing their Francaise.

At Pierrot, Robert is cooking more simply than he's been able to in years. He's bid adieu to garnishes and gewgaws and gone from haute to homey. The restaurant's prices reflect that - nothing costs more than $28. The three-course prix fixe will run you $26.95. One recent Monday, there wasn't a vacant seat by 7 p.m. You may want to call ahead for reservations.

Dining at Pierrot will bring back memories of a European vacation. Escargot Bourguignonne ($7.95) arrive in one of those round, earthenware plates with six indentations designed to hold the snails, piping hot and dripping with butter, garlic and parsley. Dijon mustard, cornichons, oil-cured olives and coarse sea salt accompany the deliciously dense house duck pate ($7.95).

Moules a la mariniere (steamed mussels, $7.95) is large enough for two to share - especially when you dunk slices of baguette into the briny and buttery white wine broth. Robert serves duo de saumon ($8.95), a platter of cured and smoked salmons, with horseradish sauce, capers and lemon. His bisque de homard (lobster bisque, $6.95) is velvety rich and loaded with cognac, though it's a touch too salty.

If I lived on Beacon Hill, I'd be a regular. I'd return for a steaming bowl of boeuf bourguignon ($14.75), brimming with chunks of long-braised beef, carrots, pearl onions, potatoes and bacon in ebony-colored red-wine sauce. It's a perfect cold weather meal. Or maybe I'd opt for the rustic pleasures of saucisse de Toulouse ($14.75), chunky country sausages, grilled crusty, with creamy whipped potatoes and sauteed broccoli and squash.

Poached, smoked finnan haddie eglefin ($18.75) with slivered leeks, parslied potatoes and warm mustard sauce is another straightforward, no-nonsense dish that relies on good ingredients and restraint instead of artifice. Fricassee de Saint Jacques Provencale ($17.75), pan-seared scallops tossed with butter, garlic and parsley, evokes the lusty flavors of the Mediterranean, particularly with a side of fennel compote and sauteed vegetables.

A license to sell beer and wine is forthcoming. The wine list is heavily French and moderately priced.

One of the few false notes about dinner at Pierrot is the paltry cheese assortment ($6.95) - a culinary catastrophe in France. The selection is pedestrian (roquefort, camembert and mystery swiss and goat varieties) and not worth the calories.

But desserts decidedly are worth the next day's trip to the gym. I like the mousse au chocolat ($6.95), laced with bits of semisweet chocolate, and the creme brulee ($6.95), topped with an appropriately crackled brown sugar shell. And maybe it's the falling temperatures but fruits confits aux vin rouge ($6.95) - dried figs, apricots and raisins stewed tender in red wine - suits my autumnal mood.

This is a small and cozy place. Framed posters of Pierrot, France's famed white-faced, lovesick clown, line the paprika and brick walls. A ceramic Pierrot at the entrance holds lollipops for younger patrons. The votive lamp-lighted tables are romantic but the background Parisian music hall soundtrack could be turned down.

The clientele spans four generations and is overwhelmingly neighborhoody - just what you'd expect to see at a bistrot Francais. Pierrot is as close to that as you'll find in Boston.