I felt like a stalker last night at L’Ami Jean. I walked into this place carrying more back-story than should ever be brought to a restaurant. I knew of love affairs that had taken off because of chef Stéphane Jego’s cooking. I’d heard about marathon sessions in which the most serious eaters I know couldn’t finish everything that was served. I’d been checking the Facebook page, on which they post the daily changing menu, for several months. And I’d been writing about it for years without ever having been.
Virgins who wait too long before sex have a similar problem…
Aux Verres de Contact might be fine for certain occasions (if you’re strolling near Notre Dame and want some better-than-average wine and charcuterie), but on the whole it doesn’t add much to the gastronomic landscape. As my table mate observed, it’s too expensive to be a neighborhood joint, and too boring to be a cross-town destination.