Visiting a French restaurant is a lot like seeing a venerable band in concert. No matter how good their newest album may be, concertgoers will demand the greatest hits. Such a problem leaves the musician in a creative rut. His past success prevents him from further innovation. Such is the case with French cuisine. Dishes like duck confit, beef bourguignon and escargot are the culinary equivalent to Ben Folds' album "Rockin' the Suburbs" (2001).
Our perception of French cuisine has led to a gastronomic pigeonholing. French restaurants, encumbered by diner's expectations, are pressured to include these crowd-pleasing dishes, often rendering the experience rather prosaic. As satisfying as it is to see a myriad of authentic dishes on a menu, one cannot help but feel hungry for more.
The best French restaurants strike a graceful balance between the traditional and the unexpected. Gaslight Brasserie plays it safe by offering quintessential French food, but makes up for its Epcot-worthy menu with quality ingredients, impressive preparation and an exquisite ambiance.
American diners are mostly acquainted with two kinds of French restaurants. By definition, a brasserie is a tavern that serves hearty and simple drinks and food – the French equivalent of American bar & grill concept. In fact, the word brasserie means "brewery" in French. A bistro, on the other hand, is a more upscale restaurant, such as L'Espalier in Back Bay or Salts in Cambridge. The brasserie, with its humbler dishes and atmosphere, is better suited to the college palate and wallet.
Gaslight indeed meets the criteria for a brasserie. From an atmospheric standpoint, it works perfectly. The bustling sound level of the restaurant is matched by the warm lighting from textured sconces. The place is as unpretentious as it is inviting. French culture is unfairly stereotyped as snobby, and this restaurant helps break down that perception. Yes, the menu lists things in French, but by no means is it a stuffy experience.
The restaurant itself is partitioned in two: the half closest to the entrance features a lively bar and some circular two-top tables that recall European terrace seating. The wine list justifiably emphasizes French wines, including plenty of bang-for-your-buck Côtes du Rhône as well as food-friendly Pinot Noir. If an entire bottle seems daunting, a fair number of the wines are available by the glass. Beyond the bar is the dining room, which oozes Parisan culture. Tabac signs plaster the wall, and shelves are lined with bottles of Pernod, an anise liqueur popular in France as a digestif. Henry Miller would be feel right at home.
The unexpected highlight of the meal was certainly the raw bar. Taking full advantage of Boston's fresh seafood, Gaslight features a bevy of local mollusks, including clams from Duxbury and oysters from Barnstable and the North Shore. The wait staff waxed poetic about the distinguishing flavors of the two different harvests, and their enthusiasm was well deserved. Plated on a bed of ice and seaweed, the bracingly cold oysters were arranged by harvest. North Shore oysters had a slight melon aftertaste, while the Barnstable oysters had a stronger mineral flavor. A shame then that the accompanying red-onion mignonette overpowered the subtle differences between the two.
France is known for its steak frites, and Gaslight had two preparations of this classic dish. One was a basic steak with béarnaise sauce, the other was steak au poivre, rechristened as "the bar steak." Steak au poivre is known for its creamy green peppercorn and cognac sauce. Gaslight's use of caramelized shallots gives this already luxurious sauce and even deeper and more rewarding flavor.
The preparation of the steak is indicative of Gaslight's culinary approach: take a popular dish and make minute tweaks. The duck confit, for example, was finished with an orange gastrique, similar to the preparation of duck a l'orange.
However, once again Gaslight shined brightest with the use of seafood. The pan-roasted cod came with chorizo in a rich americain sauce. The tang of the sauce, coupled with the subtle heat of the Spanish sausage made the dish a clear winner.
Of the desserts, the crème brulee and the molten chocolate cake, while accurately prepared, did little to stand apart from their countless predecessors. The chocolate beignets, however, were deliciously paired with a rich vanilla crème anglaise. Dipping the hot fried beignets in the chilled custardy sauce created the ultimate melt-in-your-mouth synergy of sweet.
Located in the underdeveloped region between Chinatown, the JFK museum and Roxbury, Brasserie is essentially in Boston's Bermuda Triangle. However, the trek is very much worth it. Main courses clock in the high teens and low twenties, and a 3-course prix-fixe menu is available before 6:30 for only 30 dollars.
Gaslight does not reinvent the wheel, but it does a good job recreating it. With its impeccable ambiance and solid food, Gaslight is the perfect option for Francophiles looking for a modestly upscale dinner this Valentine's Day or perhaps seeking a reminder of the recent film "Midnight in Paris" (2011).
