Plus Ça Change: A Brightened Le Rivage Buoys French Bistro Food In New York

For decades, through thick and thin, there has never been a time when the streets around New York’s Theater District were not chockablock with restaurants of every stripe. But from the 1940s through the 1980s the most popular and best known were French bistros––Du Midi, Café des Sports, Brittany du Soir, Café de France, La Grillade, Frère Jacques, À la Fourchette, L’Escargot, Fleur de Lis, Le Chambertin, Chez Napoleon, Coq au Vin, Le Quercy, Les Pyrénées, René Pujol, Pierre au Tunnel and Tout Va Bien––all, except the last, now gone.

The dining rooms were of modest size, the décor predictable and menus very much the same, right down to offering tomato and grapefruit juice as an appetizer. Some were very good, some just went through the culinary motions. But a late comer––opening in 1985––named Le Rivage has been recently transformed and updated without diminishing the charms that have long made it a favorite in the Theater District, including among a substantial French clientele who come for the same dishes they had at bistros back home.

Founding chef Paul Denamiel has also brought on a new Chef de Cuisine named David Cámara, born in Yucatan and a veteran of kitchens from Mexico to San Francisco to New York. Denamiel himself was born in New York and cooked at his family’s restaurant, Le Cafe Du Soir, as well as stints at Le Colony, a Côte D’Argent and Le Cirque.

Those who remember but haven’t been to Le Rivage in a while will find it looks pretty much the same. It’s brighter, the brick walls have the same patina of age, there are strings of pin lights that provide further bonhomie, the tablecloths are of fine quality, lit by small green-shade lamps, and the bar looks appropriately well worn. Also better lighted are the framed paintings of Provençal landscapes that look like they came from a Chinese art factory’s assembly line, a decorous distraction one cannot avoid seeing.

Tom Greco is as affable a manager as I’ve met in a long time, and our French waiter lent further authenticity to the ambience.

One telling sign at a bistro is the quality of the bread and butter, which at Le Rivage is generous and the baguette superb in its crust and the perfect texture.

There is a $70 pre-theater prix fixe menu that offers three courses of just about everything on the regular menu, which is composed of both hot and cold starters that include piquillo peppers stuffed with goat’s cheese and almonds; filet mignon tartare with quail egg; and pâté de campagne with mustard and cornichons. There are also five salads.

The second thing a good bistro must have is onion soup based on a hearty beef broth full of richly caramelized onions and a thick sopping of browned Gruyère, and Le Rivage’s is one of the best in the city. Brandade de morue (salt cod whipped with olive oil and milk) on toast with a vegetable escabeche was a delight to find on the menu, as well as a hearty portion of breaded frogs’ legs, rich with garlic and parsley.

Gnocchi à la Parisienne, made with a pâte à choux, is actually an entrée course, but it’s ample for two as an appetizer. Le Rivage’s version more resembles Italian potato gnocchi in heft and texture but was nevertheless delicious, enriched by Comté cheese and black truffles.

There is, of course, a steak frites, made with a New York strip oozing maître d’hôtel butter, served with nonpareil duck fat fries, and––another classic one can’t easily find anymore: steak au poivre made with a large filet mignon spread with an aromatic green peppercorns sauce and served with buttery pommes purée and perfectly cooked haricot verts.

So, too, somewhere in the distant past canard à l’orange dropped from French menus in favor of rare duck breast alone,so to find it again at Le Rivage was reason to pounce. It was carefully roasted and tender (though I’d prefer a crispier skin), with a well-rendered orange sauce that was not overly sweet.

Yet again, trout almandine is a dish that needs to be brought back, especially since fresh trout is now better than ever in the market. Here it had a fine flakiness and a shower of brown buttered almonds with a little lemon, tiny white turnips and the sweet surprise of pomegranates and jasmine rice.

And then there is coq au vin, a dish that proves a chef’s mettle, and Camara makes a very juicy bird that has absorbed the wine and sweet juices that also invest the tomato and mushrooms on the plate.

I applaud Le Rivage offering a cheese plate, but, sadly, the four selections came straight from the refrigerator rather than served at room temperature.

Desserts toe a traditional line: Big fat profiteroles of puff pastry bursting with vanilla ice cream, toasted almonds and lavished with hot chocolate sauce; a marvelous version of ethereal île flottante drizzled with caramel swimming in crème anglaise; a deep chocolate molten cake; and, best of all, winter’s pear cooked in sweet red wine scented with cinnamon and other spices with big scoop of melting vanilla ice cream.

It was the end to an evening that seemed to demand a glass of Armagnac to fortify us for the freezing wind outside of Le Rivage, which, in its incarnation, is as much a refuge from the weather as it is from the trendier aspect of modern cuisine.

LE RIVAGE
340 West 46th Street
212-765-7374

Open for lunch and dinner Tues.-Sun.; for dinner only Mon.