Entertaining and tasty, converted Bistro a positive change
Fret@Porter's owners should be commended for turning around a failing operation and making something much better out of it. But the name is lame! We'd get the pun just as well without the trendy little internet symbol, not to mention the fact that they don't even have a web site.
The name does remind us, though, that this place used to be a French restaurant called "Bistro de Paris." Ex-WBJ reviewer Carmine LaBruno and I were both disappointed when we checked the place out almost a year ago. The problem then was the overpriced, so-so food, most of which on any given night was "nie ma." Service was the worst part, however, with pompous, incompetent waiters delivering such slow service that I witnessed two groups walk out without eating. They didn't want to give us a Faktura VAT either.
But the Bistro closed and moved across town (with an improvement in food and service), and the Fret@Porter folks took over this prime location on the New Town square. I had dinner there recently with Harold and Tuska, and am pleased to report that they've made it a place I'd go back to.
We arrived around 6 p.m. and found the restaurant in an uproar. We had the luck to visit on the same night that a high school drama club was putting on a cabaret. Tables and chairs were being rearranged, technicians on ladders set up lights, while a pianist and guitarist tuned their instruments on a makeshift stage. We pushed our way through a crowd of stage moms in the bar area to the main dining room and asked a waitress if it was possible to have a table. "Yeah sure," she said, "but can you finish by 8 p.m.? That's when the show starts."
We decided two hours a table would suffice, but I wondered if it would be enough for Fret@Porter. When it was Bistro de Paris, I saw people waiting almost that long just to get their second course.
The interior has not changed since it was Bistro. It has a funky casualness, which works for a cafe/lunch spot but did not when the place wanted to be an expensive, snooty French restaurant. The tables are all kinds of rickety, antique wooden jobs, and all the chairs are mismatched, colorfully upholstered things that look like they were picked up cheaply at the Kolo flea market. The graffitied brick walls are hung with wildly colored canvases, from a revolving exhibition of local artists. The lighting was low and intimate in our corner by the window, but the opposite side of the room was illuminated by the stage spotlights that were being put through last-minute tests.
A smiling, young waitress brought us Polish-only menus. Just then, the circus rolled into town. About 30 high school girls poured into the dining room-cum-stage area to begin their pre-curtain preparations. Quiet it was not.
"Obviously we did not pick the best night to come for a relaxing dinner," Harold said. But he had a change of tune once the young thespians started donning their costumes. "Hey, all right! Teenage babes in masks and evening gowns!"
Tuska engaged the waitress in a friendly conversation about the evening's festivities. Apparently this was a first for the restaurant, they may do it more often depending on how successful it was. But the waitress's charming, eager-to-please attitude had already succeeded in winning over Tuska.
"I really like her, she's cool," she said.
It was a nice change from Bistro's stiff, bow-tied servers. She brought us a basket of bread and some garlic butter spreads, along with the bottle of wine I'd chosen. There is a selection of the usual Bordeaux, Burgundy and Beaujolais, all about zl. 50-zl. 70, but also a surprise choice from the Midi, the southern region called by some France's most exciting wine-growing region. I decided to give it a gamble, and it paid off: our bottle of St. Chinian (zl. 69) from Languedoc had a captivating, long, spicy finish that all three of us enjoyed.
They've lowered the prices from when it was Bistro, and also added some light snack and lunch items, such as a selection of sandwiches served on baguettes for zl. 12-zl. 15.
To start, Tuska had a plate of French cheeses (zl. 21). Besides the generous wedges of bleu, camembert and brie, her plate held a bunch of green grapes and some sliced apple.
"It's good, but like it just came out of a box," she said. Harold's mozzarella and tomato starter (zl. 28) was attractively presented on a glossy black plate, but also failed to inspire him. My gazpacho (zl. 10) however was great. I'd ordered it extra hot, and it was, with lots of ground pepper sprinkled on top, but it still kept that sweet tomato taste.
Tuska's main course was the trout, the whole trout, and nothing but the trout (zl. 29).
"It's missing some lemon juice, but it's cooked well," she said.
From the selection of five or six salads on offer (zl. 12- zl. 15) Harold chose the chef's salad, which he found just ordinary. "They were kind of stingy on the meat," he said, but the vinaigrette, a house specialty, had a fruity peach flavor that he liked. I had an excellent steak in Roquefort cheese dressing (zl. 39). I've discovered that when ordering meat in this town, my blunt but functional Polish can be an asset. "Blood," I said simply. "I want to see the blood," I told the waitress, and she kindly obliged, serving me a good, thick cut of meat still pink on the inside.
For dessert, I had three scoops of ice cream, chocolate, vanilla and pistachio, served with dollops of chocolate-flavored whipped cream and sprinkled with plenty of powdered sugar. A shot of hot, strong espresso finished the meal, with 10 minutes to go before curtain. The waitress invited us to stay for the show, and even though I offered to throw in the zl. 15 each for my guests, neither was in the mood. Now that the former Bistro has become more like a real bistro, I look forward to going back, even on amateur night. Our bill came to zl. 286 ($71.50), which included a 10% tip.
