Dining Review: Mémère’s in Providence

A new bistro filled with French-Canadian nostalgia is the perfect fit for the Neptune hotel in Providence.

4 hours ago

Karen Deutsch,

Carnard a la Mémère. Photography by Angel Tucker

The Neptune Hotel, previously The Dean, houses a restaurant space that’s been longing for the right tenant. Faust — a German beer hall — turned out to be too niche and, while north had a good run before its closure, its European design scheme didn’t quite match a menu that traversed several cultures. The space worked well enough for Thick Neck, Eric Brown’s extended-stay pop-up, but that was largely because the food eclipsed the space altogether.

Tartare de bouef. Photography by Angel Tucker

But, as any good matchmaker would say, timing is everything.

In search of a home for their French-meets-New England concept, Michael and Regina Lester fell upon this framework in search of an identity. As fate would have it, French bistro is an aesthetic that suits this space. The primary hue, of course, falls between rose and burgundy, with gauzy lighting and dark wood paneling on the walls. There’s a piano player at the center of the floor and smoky mirrors that expand the intimate space with a decidedly romantic air. Outside, Fountain Street is bustling but Mémère’s manages to keep the city at a distance, a warm enclave that conjures vintage, romantic Parisian culture.

If Mémère’s feels at home — and it does — it certainly speaks to an enduring mystery in the Providence food scene: why French bistros are so hard to come by. The guiding principle, after all, is comfort food, albeit European in nature. But bistros are perpetually popular, far outside of Paris and de rigueur in the city itself. They manifest the belief that everyday fare can also be exalted and that dinner is a social event well worth sharing.

Creme brulee. Photography by Angel Tucker

Traditional dishes become part of the culinary lexicon because we hold tightly to their prototypes: beef bourguignon, coq au vin and beef tartare are so archetypal that very few people want to mess with the math and most diners expect to see all of them on a bistro menu. But the Lesters, along with chef Blake Greenberg, have made a concerted effort to walk both an old-school path and a modern road.

Gougeres occasionally grace the menu, and they’re delicious. The kitchen brought out a small quenelle of warmed butter and salt — a pairing that, I can only imagine, is a nod to American-style bread and butter (though they are currently stuffed with brie). French to the core, gougeres are definitively rich enough to eat alone but, honestly, good butter belongs almost everywhere.

The interior of Mémère’s. Photography by Angel Tucker

It is in the appetizers, though, where tradition reigns. Salmon and pork rillettes are served with baguette toast, each version dense and fatty and so good. Many cultures in the world have a shmear of their own but rillettes done right — as these are — are a superlative feel-good food.

I’d argue the same for beef tartare though it’s a more controversial stance. Mémère’s version is relatively classic, except for unexpectedly large cuts of meat that can be hard to handle. You can top the tartare with a dollop of caviar, but the compelling variable is the sidecar: Rather than toast, chips or frites, the kitchen offers diamond wedges of crispy pressed potatoes in the style of tartiflettes. It’s a variation worth making, though one that likely taxes the kitchen more than it needs to.

Spring pea and mint soup. Photography by Angel Tucker

That’s the hinge in the Mémère’s menu: The kitchen often makes decisions that require more in both time and labor and that, in turn, elevates prices. There is no beef daube or bourguignon; and the coq au vin is a twist on traditional. A straightforward filet with mashed potatoes (pommes hollandaise) is $64, and a burger with Gruyere, smoked bacon jam, pickled and crispy onions and black garlic aioli is $24. The restaurant’s version of coq au vin is not a stew but a roasted leg and thigh, served with egg-enrichened mashed potatoes and a white wine sauce, for $36. It defines a meal at Mémère’s as dominantly formal.

The core of bistro culture is that social interaction is integral, and the dishes are a cumulation of braising and stewing over the course of a day. Everything at Mémère’s has French or French-Canadian influence, but the often-precious dishes do require a diner’s attention, and they do come at a price: Canard a la Mémère combines a whole confit duck leg and a half breast for $52. There are meatless dishes for half that price — a bowl of large Parisienne gnudi in citrus brown butter ($20) and a superb version of ratatouille for $22. The amalgam of root vegetables and tarbais beans gets closest to an informal meal and the presentation, in a covered glass pot, is charming. Whether it’s large enough for an entree depends entirely on the diner.

Coq au vin blanc. Photography by Angel Tucker

Chocolate raspberry layer cake. Photography by Angel Tucker

What does manifest a casually elevated meal, however, is the drink list. Cocktails ($17) are appropriately winsome — often fruity or herbal, but never too sweet. The house Mémère’s Martini, its version of a French martini, is made with citrus-forward gin and steeped berries. It’s both luscious and demure — entirely Parisienne. But the real draw is the wine list, which is exclusively French and uniformly affordable. The approach is European to the core: Exaggerated American markups favor the house, but moderate profits celebrate the sincere joy of sharing a good bottle (or two) of wine.

Desserts are the purview of Regina Lester, who splits her focus between proper pastry (a lemon tart punctuated with raspberry) and a more unrestrained American approach (a thick wedge of chocolate layer cake or a coconut cheesecake with tart passionfruit cream). True to form, there’s always an option of cheese, which understandably necessitates another bottle of wine.

If Mémère’s is a hybrid of sorts, impossible to fully define by lineage, that’s an essential part of an evolving culinary culture. There’s something to appreciate about both a bistro and a formal dining room. The Lesters put forth a lot of large-scale plans: a martini bar, a weekly-shifting menu, and an interactive chefs’ counter for pop-up programming in Sea Moon, the space formerly occupied by the Dean Bar.

But when the restaurant couldn’t provide an itemized receipt, instead offering a handwritten check at the end of the meal — “part of our philosophy of ‘less tech, more hospitality’” — I lean toward thinking that the mechanics are still slightly in flux. Paris wasn’t, of course, built in a day — but we’ll wait for its progression.

_________________________________