Bistro Francais, Georgetown, D.C.

Once again it's time to celebrate the French independence day. Or, at least it was last Thursday. My friend Bob and I made a late afternoon appearance at the Hirschhorn Museum (the "modern art" place at the Smithsonian) to see the Visual Music exhibit, then rode the new D.C. Circulator bus into Georgetown. We were walking down the street headed elsewhere, but had to duck into Bistro Francais when it started to rain.

As it turned out, Bistro Francais was hosting a special Bastille Day dinner that evening, with the main seating at 9 p.m. It was a little $45 per person prix fixe thing, but I didn't feel overly impressed with the menu choices. Luckily, though, we were there early, and the bistro has an early bird prix fixe until 7 p.m. for $19 that includes three courses plus a glass of wine, so we opted to do that.

After a Dubonet Rouge on the rocks with a splash of club soda and a twist of lemon (a French cocktail seemed in order to celebrate the holiday), for my entree (in France, the starter course is called the "entree"), I started with the mousse de foie de volaille au sherry, a very tasty liver mousse that was served like a slice of pate on the plate and accompanied by the bistro's crusty breads. It had all the flavor of a pate, yet it wasn't too strong with intense liver flavor, and had a good lightness more appropriate to summer dining. Bob chose the moules Niçoise for his first course, which were mussels baked in a tomato, garlic, black olive, and butter sauce, and he ate them all, so I guess they were good.

We both had the same plat, the bisto's version of Moroccan couscous, which included stewed lamb shank and a big sausage along with stewed vegetables, all resting on a big mound of couscous. While couscous may not be a particularly French dish, it's very popular in France. The first time I ever had couscous was in Paris in a little cafe over the shops on a street across from the old Opera House over twenty years ago, about a week before Bastille Day that year. A glass of the house red bordeaux accompanied dinner.

We were stuffed after this much food, but the dessert is included in the dinner, so our waiter Thierry (should I mention that Thierry made a point on at least two occasions to tell us that he was an exotic dancer at Secrets? I'm sure Bob's kids would have been appalled!) brought us a dessert tray. We picked a pear tart and an almond tart. My almond tart was pretty good for a French dessert (I've always preferred German and Viennese pastries).

It was pouring down rain, so we lingered over coffee with cream and Hennessey V.S.O.P. cognac, and since we had a table right in the front window, we got to watch the Georgetown street traffic. Eventually we found a lull in the rain and dashed down M Street, only to get two blocks and have to take refuge under an office building awning by an art gallery. A Circulator bus came by, so we hopped on it and rode to Washington Circle, and by then, the rain seemed to stop.

Vous avez un jour de bastille heureux!