Sweet! Tartes

The Son Shines at Jacques’ Brasserie

By Warren Rojas

A new day has dawned at L’Auberge Chez Francois, the charmingly rustic Alsatian cottage tucked into the crook of a twisty road that roller coasters past the million dollar estates that populate Great Falls.

Bienvenue, à la Brasserie Jacques.

Where once were found men obliged to prostrate themselves beneath the baking summer sun in neck-pinching ties and stuffy suit coats, now sit upturned grins and smiling eyes loosely wrapped in lightweight slacks and short sleeves. Gone is the need for days, if not weeks of advance notice, finally leveling the playing field for those who prefer the pop-in to over scheduling.

And what of the hours-long eating extravaganzas—the signature, prix-fixe dinners—previously orchestrated by epicurean maestro and ever-doting host, the late Francois Haeringer?

They’re still available.

You just have to ask.

“We are here to say yes,” executive chef Jacques Haeringer maintains, asserting that the nascent brasserie is merely an extension of Francois’ lifelong commitment to exemplary customer service.

“We are not changing the basic concept. We’re just giving people options they didn’t have before,” Haeringer says of his new subterranean sanctuary.

The tightly knit brasserie is fashioned to mimic a traditional Alsatian wine bar (“win stub”), boasting no more than a dozen candle-lit, tile-lined tables and a peek-a-boo wine cellar showcasing some choice producers plucked from the restaurant’s fiercely patriotic wine program. The walls are adorned with decorative china, space-bending mirrors and random glimpses into Francois’ nonagenarian highlight reel (he and his pals appear to be having a good old time in the framed group shot hung at the far left of the brasserie).

While I suspect the bucolic garden patio will remain the venue of choice throughout the summer, it would not surprise me one bit to learn of lines snaking out the back door or hear of patrons readily accepting longer wait times to avail themselves of the brasserie’s carefully cultivated charms. The recently refurbished space—it opened to the public at the tail end of April—is infinitely better suited to accommodating the “less formal, more spur-of the-moment occasions” Haeringer envisioned during the test run last winter (brasserie concept debuted in November 2010) than its previous home at the rear of L’Auberge proper.

Up there, the stripped down menu and jettisoned little extras—gone were the amuse bouches and gratis tuiles that opened and closed the traditional multi-course experience—made all the more noticeable the protracted pauses between courses that certainly seemed less generous than L’Auberge’s typical entrée. Still, if anyone other than me noticed those early discrepancies, they must have locked it away in their mental vaults, as all I witnessed were near-infectious sing-alongs (landmark celebrations are the rule, not the exception here) and romantic interludes (Her: “This is SO nice. Did you ask for the fireplace?”; Him: “No. I just told them we were coming for dinner and that this was something special.”).

Downstairs, it’s an entirely different ballgame.

A chance meeting by neighbors quickly escalates from excited across-the-way waves to a wholesale migration across the already pretty compact space resulting in a combined table, broad smiles and a cacophony of clinking glasses. Solo retirees in jungle print shirts contentedly sip fine wine and sup gourmet fare all by their lonesome—until Haeringer, during one of his many spot checks (he must pop down to the brasserie at least once per hour) notices the kindly gent and promises to join him shortly for a complimentary digestif.

Haeringer seems so smitten with his namesake retreat that he’s elected to keep the lighter fare specifically for brasserie patrons. As of this winter, he had still been flirting with the idea of making the brasserie menu available to all restaurant patrons, including those planted in the garden.

The brasserie features a smattering of gourmet standards cribbed from the L’Auberge carte (onion soup, mushroom crepes, salmon in lobster sauce) but has also introduced a number of crowd-pleasing favorites to the culinary conversation.

Chief among them: tartes flambées—“It’s an Alsatian pizza,” Haeringer notes—toothsome flatbreads smeared with cottage cheese, craime fraiche and assorted anchors (bacon, smoked salmon, wild mushroom medleys).

“I’ve had these in Alsace. And made them … but not as good as these,” one well-traveled gourmand spits out after nodding/smiling/making yummy sounds at the server when he asks what she thinks of the hot little number.

The tartes are one of terrifically well-structured snacks. The base cracker—not “cracker thin”; this was a bona fide cracker—is layered with the house-doctored, extra chunky-style cheese spread (cottage cheese enhanced with sour cream, garlic and chives), which is, in turn, decorated with caramelized onions, snipped chives and bronzed bacon. The savory-sweet story relayed by the bacon-onion pairing is much more engaging than its smoked fish counterpart, whose wood-infused trout leaps to the top of the flavor scale but receives little support from the accompanying salmon (muted fish disappears beneath the waves of cultured dairy).

A bounty of freshly baked mussels suffers no such identity crisis, each magnificent bivalve slathered in a mouthwatering mash of aromatics and butter. The simple but intoxicating preparation nearly compelled me to polish off the dozen plus specimens, as I found myself slurping down one after another, my mouth anxiously awaiting the next blast of garlicky-basil butter nestled between the sumptuous sea creature and its shell.

Asparagus nestled atop country ham and crowned with a single, quivering quail egg failed to accurately communicate the implied deliciousness of all its component parts. The salty ham did its best to tie everything together, as did the button of warm gruyere, but things didn’t quite stick. Literally. The greatest disappointment was the ease with which the quail egg so easily disintegrated and the limited coverage provided by its miniscule yolk.

The asparagus would eventually redeem itself in a wonderfully refreshing mixture of poached Maine lobster, Tahitian vanilla vinaigrette and fresh fruits (oranges, strawberries, grapefruit). The generous hunks of luxuriant lobster meat found their sweet mate in the vanilla-spiked dressing, which is, in turn, juxtaposed by briny black olives and slices of face-puckering grapefruit.

Smoke and time work in concert to help a slew of pork products fully realize their pleasurable potential via the carnivore’s feast that is the traditional choucroutes spread. Thick-cut pork belly and peppered pork loin pay the greatest gustatory dividends, particularly when combined with forkfuls of the tangy house sauerkraut or plunged into the depths of the fiery mustard sauce served alongside the meal.

According to Haeringer, both the hanger steak béarnaise and pinot noir-braised short ribs (one of his personal favorites, actually) are top performers on the brasserie carte.

His treatment of onglet is truly admirable, revealing a fan of cooked-to-order beef that was perfectly meaty, and juicy enough to sate the average steak connoisseur. Drizzle said beef with the rich, creamy béarnaise constructed by the kitchen, and you’ve now elevated the meal from straight meat carnival to a multi-sensory indulgence worthy of sharing with tablemates in jealousy-inducing bites.

Perhaps I’ve been spoiled by the glut of terrific short ribs in our area—the specialty cut can currently be enjoyed in everything from Texas-style barbecue to fusion tacos—because I found the brasserie’s version terribly disappointing. The absence of a protective layer of fat, no doubt, contributed to the flavor-dampening dryness—mind you, the meat was moist enough to shred with the mere tug of the fork—that ushered forth nothing but bland to my lips.

Meanwhile, Haeringer suggests that the tartes have already gained a cult following in the surrounding area. “Some of the neighbors have called and asked if they could get those to go … which we have accommodated,” he shares.

Could this mark a spin-off career for Haeringer? You never know.

“First we’ll do take-out. Then delivery. Finally, Jacques-in-the-boxes, coast-to-coast,” Haeringer jokes with some guests demanding to know what’s next on his professional bucket list.

—–
Jacques’ Brasserie
332 Springvale Road, Great Falls; 703-759-3800; www.laubergechezfrancois.com

Hours: Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday.
Prices: $21 to $30 ($$$).

 

(July 2011)