LA SIRÈNE
558 Broome Street  (near Varick Street)
212-925-3061
lasirenenyc.com

    There are about 16,000 full-service restaurants in NYC, so even the most indefatigable gourmand can expect to happen upon a true gem that has escaped his notice for years.  In the case of La Sirène and me, eight years to be exact, for chef-owner Didier Pawlicki opened this little two-room, 46-seat bistro in SoHo in 2007--not the most opportune time.  But La Sirène survives, along with his fondue spot named Taureau on the same premises and Le Village on East 7th Street. 
    Pawlicki is a driven man, for he assumes all chores, from sommelier to pastry chef and, even though he was not at La Sirène the night I dined there, his presence was palpable. (His son was in the kitchen.) In any case, I was not prepared to find La Sirène’s cooking so thoroughly, deeply in tune with some of the best bistros I’ve enjoyed in Paris itself; indeed, in a city like New York,  with several good bistro examples, Le Sirène is closest to the Parisian model in its food.
    I might say that about the décor, too, for there are some grim-looking bistros in Paris, but one of La Sirène’s rooms is, to put it kindly, as drab as a bar room that hasn’t seen an upgrade, ever.  The wooden wainscoting is dark brown, as are the walls, so are the tables, the lighting weak, and the artwork seems collected from a flea market. The other room is a bit cheerier,with a wrought-iron screen and lighter colors. 
    But upon my first taste of the classic onion soup gratinée ($11.75), with its bubbly, crusted Gruyère cheese and its sweet, soft onions in a rich dark broth, I felt like Simon Cowell when Susan Boyle broke into “I Dreamed a Dream” on “Britain’s Got Talent.” I was astounded how good it was.  As I was by a goat’s cheese tart with shallots, truffles, raisin confit and Gruyère ($16.95).
    We were offered a choice of fresh foie gras or as a torchon, and I chose the former ($25)--a  very generous portion of the lobe, impeccably seared on the outside and very creamy and pink inside in a marvelously dark, thick, winey sauce reduction of a kind you rarely see anymore.  Mussels (right) come in various options: My wife chose Creole-style ($14.75 appetizer, $26.75 main course), plump but not-too-big bivalves in a pink sauce laced with rum and heavy cream and a good bite of chorizo sausage.
    Also very special was another example of how Pawlicki pays homage to tradition: His gnocchi à la parisienne, which are too often soft, mushy and tasteless, were of good size, shape and texture, lavished with a Mornay cream and cheese gratin and truffles ($23.50). 
     French bistros used to serve rabbit stew (left) as a matter of course, but it’s rare on menus today, so it was a delight to find it on La Sirène’s, done with abundant wild mushrooms, white wine, carrots and herbs ($28.50) according to “an old family recipe” that tasted exactly that way.
    You really learn some lessons at La Sirène, like the right chewiness of an onglet steak poêlèe à la luchonaise, cooked in good butter with roasted garlic and sprinkled parsley ($29.75).  And even though it was summer’s end when I visited, Pawlicki served a first-rate cassoulet Toulouse-style ($32.50), with tender white beans, sausage, and duck, which arrived in a large, steaming casserole whose lusty contents are enough for two, three or four people to share, as did we.  It had an intensity and depth of flavor I really haven’t had outside of Toulouse, and the menu describes it as “a Very Rich Dish which was served for Warriors to defend their Village!  Don’t take it if you can’t bear it.”   Hard as it is to imagine a warrior even getting up from the table after eating this cassoulet much less marching into battle, it will be an even more savory dish when the cool weather comes this autumn.
    From a kitchen that looks the size of a shoebox one should not expect great desserts, but, as with so much else that is quirky about Le Sirène, Pawlicki stays with the classics and masters them, from an abundant portion of choux pastry (right) stuffed with vanilla cream ($8.50) and big fat profiteroles with bittersweet Caillebaut chocolate sauce (worth the $13.75) to a raspberry tartlette with fresh strawberries and cream ($9.75) to that guiltiest of personal pleasure, île flottante ($9.75), everything was excellent.
    I found the wine list as eccentric as everything else about La Sirène. It’s on the short side, though understandably so for such a small place, but the wines below $50 are largely undistinguished and those above—like a $184 Château LaGrange 2008 you’d find in a wine store for about $50—very high priced. And in a solidly French restaurant like this, why carry California white zinfandel or a “house" Pinot Grigio? You may also B.Y.O.B. for a $10 corkage fee.
    So. What does one make of La Sirène? It’s a gem, perhaps a little tarnished in ambiance, but Pawlicki’s food is a consistent reminder of why so many people love French bistros and their unchanging menus.

Open for lunch Mon.-Sat.; Dinner nightly; Three-course Early Bird Dinner $35.

    Gianluca Bisol, President and CEO of the namesake Italian winery he co-owns with his brother, enologist Desiderio (left), was sitting at New York’s most iconic restaurant, `21’ Club, biting into its massive $36 signature hamburger with ketchup and crisp French fries.
    “This is fantastic!” he exclaimed, “ and look how well it goes with Prosecco.”  In fact, the sparkling wine from Italy’s Veneto region was delicious with the rare burger, as it was with a platter of Florida stone crabs and grilled Dover sole.
    “People think of prosecco as an aperitif and as an ingredient in the bellini cocktail, but a good one like Bisol is a very versatile wine: perfect with seafood and, because it’s sparkling, it helps refresh the palate when you’re eating a hamburger with ketchup and French fries.”
    Gianluca should know: his family has been making wine in the Valdobbiadene and Conegliano regions since 1542, and they’ve been expanding—now with more than 20 plots of land in the most prestigious zones for Prosecco, which under Italian wine laws is a “D.O.C.G.” (a wine guaranteed to be of a specific controlled origin). Bisol also directly manages three hectares on the Cartizze hill (below), whose location and terroir make it one of the world’s most valuable wine terroir, estimated at  2.5 million euros per hectare.   Bisol’s family motto remains “Excellence from the ground to the bottle.”
     “We work with great passion so that Conegliano can have the same prestige as Reims and Valdobbiadene the same appeal as Épernay,” said Gianluca, referring to the regions in France  where the finest Champagnes are made.  “But such a reputation only comes with passion and investment.     Every day my brother and I are presented with at least one opportunity for improvement.”
    Bisol, along with a slew of other Prosecco producers in the Veneto—some producing sweet, fizzy stuff hardly worthy of the name—have reason to gloat: Prosecco has transcended its image as a cheap bubbly best used in making Italian cocktails (the bellini was invented decades ago at Harry’s Bar in Venice, combining white peach juice with Prosecco), so that today sales surpass that of Champagne, with 307 million bottles of Prosecco sold globally  in 2013 versus 304 million of Champagne.   In Great Britain alone this year sales have increased 72 percent.
    Still, Bisol has to fight the old image, even to the point of differentiating Prosecco from Asti Spumante, a sparkling, sweet wine from Piedmont made with the moscato grape and Lambrusco from Emilia-Romagna.  There is also competition from the region of Franciacorta, whose producers make their sparkling wine by the laborious and expensive  “Champagne method."  Prosecco, made from Glera grapes (left), is made by the bulk Charmat process by which the natural secondary fermentation of the wine is produced in a tank rather than in bottles.  Most Prosecco is not vintage dated.
    “Using the Charmat process is better for Prosecco, which is not made to be aged,” said Gianluca.  “It keeps the freshness and sparkle of the wine while preserving its fruit.  We have done some experiments with the Champenoise method with our Eliseo Bisol Cuvée del Fondatore, made from from a selection of the best Pinot Bianco, Chardonnay, and Pinot Nero grapes, then aged for a minimum of 100 months.”
    Bisol is the biggest producer of Prosecco in the region and certainly the most innovative. What I like about their wines is precisely that fruit characteristic, with just a touch of sweetness, all of it buoyed by the bubbles and exceptional freshness because of the acidic content.  So many Proseccos are either two sweet or too unbalanced, whereas Bisol's equilibrium of elegance and stimulating effervescence combines with green apple sweet-sour flavors that do indeed go well with all kinds of foods.
    Bisol’s range of Proseccos are of various degrees of dryness.
    Jeio ($15) has a less pronounced sparkle and wonderful aroma. Made from carefully selected grapes, Jeio is a nickname for Desiderio given him by his wife.  It is perhaps the most amiable expression of the terroir of the best plots of Valdobbiadene.  Bisol also makes an enchanting rosé version.   
      Prosecco Crede ($18) is a blend of 85 percent Glera, 10 percent Pinot Bianco, and 5 percent Verdiso. When compared with other Proseccos of the same or lesser price, its superiority comes into clear focus.  The name comes from the clay-rich soil it grows in, and it has that clean, well-constructed equilibrium that makes it easy to enjoy with just about any meal that isn’t too heavy with garlic or vegetables like asparagus.   
          Coming from that very expensive Cartizze vineyard, Prosecco Superiore Cartizze (right) is a cru, referring to a specific vineyard, a definition Bisol pioneered in the region. This is one of  the most refined of Bisol’s wines, with more body but great delicacy.  It’s superb with cheeses or lightly sweet desserts.  I’ve seen it priced between $45 and $60 in U.S. wine stores.
    Given their success, the Bisol family has invested in agrotourism in the Veneto, which includes Venissa (left), an ancient walled vineyard in the Venetian lagoon where they produce a dry wine called Venissa from the Dorona varietal—a grape once thought extinct. They have also invested in the Maeli winery in the Euganaen Hills, producers of a Moscato Giallo.
    The dilemma of Prosecco producers today is that on the one hand they have been wildly successful in selling their easy-to-like sparklers; on the other, producers like Bisol wish to compete with Champagne not just in sales—a battle it has already won—but in reputation, which makes the Bisol brothers work all the harder.

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