Eating by the Book
A restaurant in Paris’ Latin quarter takes you to the five points of France with a clever food hook
AOC. Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée. No three more powerful words exist in French food culture. Which lends the menu at L’AOC – a family-run brasserie in the Latin Quarter –more than just a little significance.
Created by the French government in the 1930s to preserve the authenticity of the nation’s regional produce, AOC is a tag offering the highest level of geographic naming control and protection for French wine and food. Effectively, it serves as a mark of quality assurance for producers and consumers alike: only wine growers in the Champagne region may be permitted to label their sparkling wines as such, while buyers can be assured that any AOC-recognised Champagne was made using traditional methods, conforming to strict, pre-determined standards.
But the powerful legacy of the AOC hallmark is much more complicated than a mere black and white system of classification. The gold medal stamp evokes a sense of history and place. To buy and taste a wedge of Roquefort is not simply to enjoy the richly aromatic notes of a well-ripened sheep’s milk cheese, but to consume with the knowledge of how said cheese has arrived – blue-veined and creamy – to your plate.
And if all this sounds like a rather long introduction to a casual restaurant review, consider it a prelude to the passion you will encounter at Jean-Philippe and Sophie Latron’s modest timber tables.
It’s raining the night we book, which is probably just as well. Paris is in midst of a student-led crisis; each night hundreds are taking to the street to protest new legislation (since reversed) which the students fear would put an end to job security. But tonight my main concern is the restaurant’s location – just a couple of blocks from Sorbonne University, we are heading in the direction of protest central.
Thankfully the rain (or the night’s big soccer match) seems to have kept the mob at bay. We cruise through quiet streets, the only action being busloads of riot police sipping espresso in paper cups.
L’AOC, however, is bustling.
The rotisserie – just inside the bistro’s doorway – ensures we are instantly seduced. Even before removing damp coats we are assaulted by the rich, salty perfume of roasting chicken, lamb and grade-A pork. Crispy-skinned potatoes form a tumble in the tray below, full of flavour from the golden drippings. It’s exquisitely tempting, though, tonight, it is the blackboard menu that snares our interest.
Settling down with a ’99 Medoc from Bordeaux and sliced Gascogne saucisson, we peruse a selection of dishes that serves as a geographic hit-list of French cuisine. Will it be the goat cheese from Quercy in the South, marrow bones seasoned with Brittany’s famed Guérande sea salt, or the Latron’s chunky, house-made duck terrine? Curiosity has me pondering the oreille de cochon en salade (pig ear salad) but – failing to locate a sneak preview among the tables of relaxed French diners – I demure.
In the end we fall victim to sardines rich with olive oil from Brittany’s Belle Iloise, alongside wafer thing slices of jambon Serrano – the restaurant also highlights renowned produce from Spain (jambon) and Ireland (salmon) – layered and served on a wooden chopping block.
You may be now cottoning on to the fact that cuisine here is far from complicated. Following in the tradition of French country food, it is the produce that is allowed to shine. Heavy sauces are non existent and the only condiment – aside from the grey crystals of Guérande sea salt in tiny ceramic bowls on every table – is a pot of spicy Dijon mustard set down at the diner’s request. It’s basic, in the best sense of the word.
Which brings us to the true bistro test dish, the tartare de boeuf. Seasoned, finely ground raw (Charolais) beef offers little for a restaurant to hide behind. The perfect barometer, in other words, for a kitchen priding itself on presenting quality, AOC ingredients.
Though nostalgics may prefer it served the traditional way – mounded on a plate and topped with a raw egg yolk, alongside small dishes of capers, onion and mustard – I request mine pre-mixed. It is fabulous. The meat is rich, fresh and devoid of fat, while the seasonings add oomph (it is surprisingly spicy) to the otherwise simple dish.
And so it goes. Roast lamb (sliced hot from the rotisserie) is stunningly tender, served with creamy dauphinoise potatoes. At another table, a waiter slices in to a succulent cote de boeuf for a couple of young gastronomes, while the third in our Saturday night party makes lip-smacking noises over his pink-in-the-centre entrecôte. (Like the tartare, both the cote and the entrecôte are sourced from Charolais in France’s central-west, a region known for its juicy and flavour-packed beef.)
Desserts continue the AOC theme. The best of these – an eggy, dense and unctuous crème brulée – is given a kick with the addition of Bourbon vanilla from the French-controlled Reunion Islands. Sorbets from Chez Octave in Toulouse are also worth a taste.
Exiting in to the night, it’s almost a surprise to find oneself strolling Paris streets: in just a few short hours – and a couple of great courses – we’ve travelled France from Brittany in the north to Toulouse in the south, skipping through the central belt along the way. It’s a trip well worth taking - and one we’ll be repeating soon.
L’AOC. 14 rue des Fosses-St-Bernard, 5th. +33 (0)1 43 54 22 52