L’Entente Restaurant

I have already complained here about the difficulty of finding a restaurant open on Sunday night, but, once again, after Calice a few weeks ago, I lucked out when I chose L’Entente, a British restaurant – yes, it’s true – in the second arrondissement.

After eating in so many bistros lately, where decor is not much of a concern, it was a pleasure to be seated at a big round table with a real tablecloth and napkins, on a curved baby-blue banquette that contrasted nicely with the darker shade of blue paint on the wood paneling. Altogether a classy and comfortable interior.

Strangely, the restaurant remained nearly empty throughout the evening, so the four of us got plenty of attention from the gentle Swedish waiter and his efficient and discreet helper.

So, forget all your preconceptions about boiled mutton, mint jelly, etc. The chef at L’Entente, Oliver Woodhead, knows how to cook. While we waited for one of our party, we snacked on some tasty little scotch eggs (made with quail eggs), all crispy outside and soft yolk inside, just right with a fresh piccalilli sauce.

The main courses looked so hefty that we decided to share just a couple of small starters: Welsh rarebit, basically cheese on toast, with bread so hard it was almost impossible to cut, although it tasted good and had a nice tang; and a plate of smoked salmon served with butter and more hard bread, which was quickly replaced when we pointed it out that it was stale (we considered ourselves lucky to even get bread; in U.K. restaurants, you have to ask and pay for it).

The main courses were the main event here, and they were as copious as we expected. Mine was the absolute star of the evening: a chicken and leek pie, which reminded me of the frozen pot pies I loved as a child in America. This, however, was the real thing, not an industrial version. Underneath the beautifully glazed top crust was a feast of big, tender chicken pieces and leeks in a lovely gravy. I savored every bite and had enough to share with my co-diners.

James, the only Briton (of the Scots variety) at the table ordered everyone’s favorite British dish, roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, which came with lovely roast potatoes and carrots, and horseradish sauce. He was, of course, disappointed because it wasn’t as good as his mother’s, but we thought it was pretty damn good, having not had his advantages in life. While he had no real complaints about it and even said that the potatoes were perfect, he would have preferred the pie.

The two others had fish and chips (Liz substituted salad for her chips), a classic made classier here with the use of lieu noir (pollock). Carolyn found both the fish and chips excellent, and not greasy as had been her experience in other restaurants.

One thing British people are especially good at cooking is dessert, or pudding, as they have it. They were terrific here. I ordered one of my favorites, sticky toffee pudding, which Liz and Caroline had never heard of but loved, while James had the delightfully citrusy and creamy lemon posset, which led to a discussion of similar ancient British desserts like syllabubs and fools (they should also get a prize for interesting names for their desserts). Both were superb. If you go, however, you might want to order some of the cheeses on offer, which come from the inimitable Neals Yard Dairy cheesemongers of London.

The prices are a bit steep (not outrageous), but I think they are justified by the handsome, comfortable setting and the quality of the food, all of which was obviously freshly made in-house. The entente is more than cordial here. Well done, chef Woodhead!

See our Favorite Restaurants by Arrondissement page to find a good restaurant in the neighborhood where you want to eat.

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