Smooth Sailing

Boy, oh, boy. Is there anybody out there still reading this? After a three week hiatus, it'll be a miracle if so! I have no excuse for not blogging aside from pure laziness... and what's especially shameful is that I had a perfectly lovely dinner at La Voile about which to write.

Out for the night with a few of my girlfriends, we did not have the intention of ending up at La Voile... One friend suggested that we check out 28 Degrees, a hip bar/restaurant in the South End, which was our first destination of the night. We cabbed it together downtown and arrived at 28 Degrees around quarter past eight. Only to be greeted outside the door by a guy who looked barely old enough to get into the place himself. Holding a clipboard and doing his best to look down at us he asked if we had a reservation (we didn't). Immediately, I thought to myself - "great, a long wait." Oh no... no wait. No reservation? No getting in - at all. Were they kidding? This is why we don't live in New York, thank you very much. Once rejected at 28 Degrees, another friend mentioned that she'd once had a great dinner at Masa around the corner. Off we went. At Masa, we were pleased to learn that you didn't need a reservation to get in to the restaurant. You did, however, need one to eat before 10 p.m. Sigh. Not wanting to wait that long, we put our heads together for a brainstorm. While dismayed by our twice thwarted dinner plans, it did make me realized what a serious foodie city Boston had become. Word to the wise? If you are going out on a Saturday night, make a reservation.

Collectively we decided to head towards Newbury Street and try our luck there. On the cab ride over, I used my trusty iPhone to do a little research and came up with La Voile - which also holds a spot on my 2008 wish list. I called en route and was immediately taken back by the gentleman's greeting on the phone, "Bonsoir et merci d'appeler a La Voile, may I help you?" All delivered in a flawless accent. I knew La Voile was a French restaurant (duh), but I didn't know the depth of their committment to authenticity - clearly the host was a native. My - once excellent - French is pathetically rusty at this point, so despite my temptation to do otherwise, I decided to explain our predicament in English. By sheer luck, they'd just had a no-show and could seat us right away. I told him that my name was Courtney and that we'd be there shortly. The cab sped along and we came through the doors of the cozy subterranean space within five minutes, to be greeted by a tall, elegant Frenchman, asking, "Courtney?" I felt like quite the celebrity. As promised, we were shown directly to a table and were sipping Kir Royals before we knew it.

La Voile means "the sail" in French and the restaurant has a sailing/ship theme, but in a generally tasteful way - a painted quote (about sailing) that runs along the border of the ceiling, some old models of sailboats, and antique prints of ships, knots, and marine flags. Unfortunately, they also carried the theme to the busboys, who were required to wear - prepare yourself - a sailor uniform of a striped boat-neck top and wide-leg navy trousers. It was - needless to say - over the top. Additionally, while I appreciate La Voile's committment to keeping true to its French roots, the restaurant also requires the waitstaff to punctuate their dialog with guests with French phrases (for example, when setting a plate: "pour vous, madam..."). This might come off ok if all of the waiters where French. They're not. Ours wasn't and his accent was, let's call it, challenged. Amongst the three of us sitting at the table, two of us have lived in France, so, frankly, a bad French accent is like fingernails on a chalkboard. I would have preferred that he simply addressed us in English. The whole thing gave a slightly fake effect to the restaurant - as though we were having dinner in the France Pavilion at Epcot Center. At any moment, I expected the staff to break into song and dance. The busboys were certainly dressed for it.

Luckily for La Voile, the food was fantastic - nearly obliterating all thoughts of a giant mouse in a beret. First, we started with a selection of amuse bouche, including a gougere (a pastry puff made with Gruyere) and a bite of pâte à choux wrapped around a small piece of sausage. Needless to say, I love when a restaurant brings out free nibbles and these were exceptional - light and savory and melt in your mouth. After some discussion around sharing appetizers versus ordering our own, we settled on the latter. One friend ordered a seared scallop salad and another ordered the endive salad - a bite of each showed excellent preparation (especially with the shellfish) and a nice balance of flavors. My appetizer order started as a bit of a disappointment as they were out of, first, the foie gras terrine, and second, the rabbit terrine. I struggled to pick an alternative option and our waiter jumped in and suggested the foie gras creme brulee. At first, I declined - it sounded heavy and weird. Then I thought, what the heck, I'll go with his recommendation. Good choice. I'd never had a savory creme brulee before, but it was delicious - the creamy custard was smooth and thick, imbued with a deep essence of the foie gras, and the crackly sugar shell perfectly complimented the sweetness of the liver flavor. It was rich, that's for certain, but it was inspired as well.

For an entree, I ordered the seared halibut. Again, the execution was superb - the fish was moist and flaky with a crisp, salty crust. It didn't hurt that it was served with a generous dollop of caviar on top. The fish was laid atop basil mashed potatoes that had a nice bright flavor which was a good balance for the healthy dose of sweet, rich buerre blanc that covered the plate. Again, while decadent, each element of the dish was exceptionally well done - creating a delicious whole. We ended the night with a glass of dessert wine - which we also had to order twice, due to them being out of our first choice - and the tarte tatin. The apple tart was, again, truly authentic with thin slivers of fruit and a delicate pastry crust. It was tasty enough, but no match to the main meal.

I'd give La Voile, at 261 Newbury Street in Boston, an A-. Before getting your heart set on anything on the menu, ask what they are out of, then ask Mickey & Minnie for a recommendation - those mice, they know a thing or two about terrific French food.