March 29, 2001
RESTAURANT BOUCHARD

By MERIDITH FORD
Journal Restaurant Reviewer

French cooking remains an enigma to many. It's often faulted as fattening, laden with cream and butter, with rich sauces. But "that's really not the essence of this cuisine," says Albert Bouchard, chef-owner of Restaurant Bouchard in Newport.

What is? Bob Burke, owner of Pot au Feu, describes French food as a perfect form.

"French cuisine is as close to the ideal as a cuisine can get," says Burke. "Other cuisines are complicated with too many flavor structures these days. French cuisine is as simple as it gets. It has certain building blocks, like the sauces, that are used to create subtle layers of flavor. It's not fussy, the way it is often perceived."

"French food is like high couture or classical music," says chef Jean-Jacques Dietrich, who teaches classical French cooking at Johnson & Wales University. "We move away from it from time to time, but always come back to it because it is the foundation, the starting point."

So can French cuisine actually be authentically duplicated in the United States? I went to four Rhode Island restaurants to find out.

Restaurant Bouchard, Newport

You might expect to hear a thick French accent when you call to speak with Restaurant Bouchard's chef-owner, Albert Bouchard, but you won't. He's as American as, ahem, apple pie.

A native of New Canaan, N.Y., Bouchard started cooking before he was 15, then went to school at Paul Smith's College, obtaining a degree in hotel and restaurant management before attending the Culinary Institute of America. His real education though, as he puts it, came from working for 21/2 years in France, where he worked first as a private cook for a family and then in restaurants in Tours.

Returning to the United States, he worked for Le Chateau in South Salem, N.Y., for 15 years, but eventually wanted to own his own small restaurant. He and his wife, Sarah, who operates the front of the house and helps out in the kitchen, settled on Newport partly because they are avid yachters, and partly because it is, as he says "really a town disguised as a big city, with everything both have to offer."

Sarah is also responsible for the refined look of the restaurant: Teal walls with white and light blue trim, a large fireplace bedecked -- as are the windows, with tiny white Christmas lights -- large country-French armoires at the front of the restaurant for storing coats.

The two small dining areas are separated by a short hallway, the wall of one side covered with a large cupboard teeming with a collection of china cups and saucers. The love of china also is reflected in an eclectic mix of various pieces used for service.

Tiny crystal-like ornaments dangle from the windows, like frozen raindrops.

The menu could be defined as classical, yet there are many elements of nouvelle cuisine (the lighter, modernized version of classical French cuisine that uses reduction for flavor and thickening rather than fat and flour) in Bouchard's cooking. He is one of the most talented chefs in Rhode Island, sharing the sense of honed refinement in his cooking that his wife creates in the dining room. Everything is made on the premises, including the bread.

After eating at Bouchard's, I boldly dub him "sauce man." Great sauces are at the very heart of French cuisine, and very few chefs make them as well as he does. "Sauces are one of the most basic foundations of French cooking, and I refuse to compromise on their quality," says Bouchard.

We were in for a special evening when my tablemate was recognized by our waiter, who knew him from a previous job. Luckily, no one seemed to know who I was.

But the recognition brought an on-the-house appetizer, a specialty for Valentine's week, of a tiny, drum-shaped round of Roquefort-cheese souffle in a champagne and truffle oil sauce. I thought I had died and gone to heaven after tasting it: Soft, smooth, cheese flavor, with a hint of tanginess in a sauce that made me ache, it was so good with the sexy woodsiness of truffles and subtly bold flourishes of champagne.

Another appetizer, of tender jumbo shrimp, came fanned over a mixture of sweet tomatoes, delicately offset with capers, onions and the tartness of artichokes, while a seared foie gras, plump and juicy, came in a pool of tart-yet-sweet raspberry vinaigrette and a petite salad of wild greens.

An entree of striped bass, beautifully cooked to a perfect flaky tenderness, was outdone only by the perfection of the dill beurre blanc (a classic reduction of wine, vinegar, shallots and butter) with which it was served. Hail to the sauce man: velvety smooth, with the flavors of dill and butter allowed to share center stage, while white wine languished behind the scenes.

A duck breast, sauteed in a coffee crust, was perhaps the most adventurous offering of the night. The duck was so buttery it almost melted off the end of the fork. A sauce of brandy and balsamic vinegar crowned the dish, the toasty taste of coffee framed with the sweet and sour strokes of the sauce.

Each of the dishes was garnished with variations on a theme of mashed potatoes; mashed, gingered carrots; snow peas and grape tomatoes. Bouchard has an eye for presentation, piping the carrots or potatoes into a rosette, then gracing them with the snow peas, often fanned like wings over the plate.

We had ordered a Grand Marnier souffle at the beginning of the meal, made to order, but couldn't decide on another choice. So our waiter had Bouchard create a dessert "varies" -- basically a platter of small portions of each of the desserts, indulgent to the point of hedonism, and worth every bite.

But let me start with the souffle: A large ramekin was brought to the table, hot from the oven, to which our waiter took a spoon and scooped out a small portion of the hot souffle, then promptly poured into it a dreamily smooth creme Anglaise. The steam rising from the dish was filled with the fragrance of the Grand Marnier and the soft souffle, mixed with the cream sauce, melted in my mouth.

On our platter were tiny chocolate cups filled with a rich dark chocolate mousse, a wispy swan made of pate a choux (an egg, flour and butter batter) and filled with sweet white chocolate mousse, a tower of caramel profiteroles (like small cream puffs) filled with smooth vanilla ice cream and covered in caramel sauce and a slice of simple, beautiful, hot apple tart. We ate every bite.

The service at Bouchard's is some of the best in the state. It is elegant and refined, but not too stuffy, marked by an excellent sense of attentiveness without being intrusive. As for the wine list, it's perfectly paired with the food, with an extensive selection. Bottles range from $15 to $350.

Appetizers, including soups and salads are $6.50 to $18; entrees are $23.50 to $28. Desserts are $8.50 to $9.

I had been told by those that know for years that Bouchard's would offer a dining experience matched by few in Rhode Island. What I can't figure out is why it took me until now to experience it for myself.