Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on May 2010
Photos by Keigo Moriyama
If you’ve ever been to France, you’ll recognize the red façade and the white lace curtains in the windows of Petit Salé. Unpretentious bistros like this with a tiny counter bar, a curlicue coat rack, hanging globe lights, and mirrors and oil paintings on the walls can be found in any village, town or city throughout the country.
Such standard decor, though, belies what’s on the plate. Chef Inaba doesn’t try to knock your socks off with unusual combinations or exotic ingredients. He’s a sure-handed craftsman who turns out exemplary cuisine à la campagne in generous portions.
His very reasonably priced menu offers a full set of well-known appetizers (hot and cold) and familiar main dishes. A small selection of seasonal dishes are also chalked up daily on a menu board.
On a recent visit, every table seemed to order the “spicy grass” marinade of salmon (¥1,200). Not a euphemism for the smokable herb, this blend of tarragon, parsley and olive oil anoints and blesses thin slices of pale pink, house-cured fish. Another noteworthy starter is the fourme d’aubert and walnut salad (¥1,200). If you’ve not tried fourme d’aubert, it is a softer, subtler blue cheese than its brasher cousin Roquefort. Wedges of it nestle under leafy vinaigrette-dressed greens studded with walnut chunks and grains of rose pepper.
Inaba’s take on escargot is interesting and delicious. He foregoes garlic, but adds bits of eringi and abalone mushrooms to the snails, richly flavored with fresh parsley and olive oil (¥1,200).
His main dishes are stalwart. The fish-of-the-day was houbou, the curiously named bluefin sea robin (¥1,800). Inaba deftly grills the firm, white filet—crisp skin yet still-tender flesh—then frames it in an olive oil-based tomato sauce with slices of new potatoes, fava beans, semi-dried tomatoes, broccoli and capers.
The chicken confit with hot vegetables is fabulous (¥1,600). The jidori leg and thigh, roasted until falling-from-the-bone tender, is served with a nicely spiced mustard sauce, watercress, new potatoes, eggplant, bacon lardons and abalone mushrooms. Precisely prepared and carefully presented, this is picture-postcard-perfect bistro fare.
The only disappointment is the house bread, which is bought frozen then baked. Soft-centered with no muscle to its crumb, it lacks character, but is OK for mopping up sauce—which you’ll want to do.
When Bistro Petit Salé is crowded—as it almost always is—the long, narrow room can put you elbow-to-elbow with your neighboring diners. Yet no one minds, for this is the kind of place the Paris Michelin Guide would honor with a “Bib Gourmand” mark: a spot for good food at moderate prices.
