Restaurant review: French without fears

The first clue can be solved with a French dictionary. Cochon Aveugle = Blind Swine. Hot on the heels of York’s dazzling and inventive Blind Swine on Swinegate comes the debut of its French cousin on Fossgate.

The similarities end right there. I’d heard that this one was to be a straightforward French bistro, no pyrotechnics, no gels, no foams, no spherifications. And so it was: three starters, three mains – tartiflette tart, charcuterie, trout with almonds, 
steak, bouillabaisse – traditional, conventional, retro.

Did I say conventional? You wouldn’t expect chef Michael O’Hare to settle for anything as conventional as an everyday French bistro. Have you seen him, for a start? Big shoulders, bleached blonde hair, tattoos, he looks like a roadie from an 80s heavy metal band, not someone who spends his time adding edible flowers to a dainty salad.

No, his idea of a French bistro is to create a virtual tart’s boudoir, complete with a cheeky washing line of frilly knickers, lacy bras and a black basque. The Folies Bergère in the shadow of St Denys church.

There is room for just four tables, lovely, big antique ones on which wax candles drip decadently onto polished mahogany tops. Chairs are balloon-backed and over-the-top gilded, Rococo.

An upright piano doubles as a wine store, a china cabinet houses the aperitifs and a kitsch trolley holds the gin. A collection of mirrors show the wine list, written up in what else but pink lipstick.

On our table is a magazine called Feline, which, in case it’s slipped your memory, was a 60s lads’ mag. Pages of naked girls looking winsomely over their shoulder with a great deal of judicious airbrushing below the waistline. We gave our girls a final indignity, wedged under a table leg to settle the wobble.

Like the Swine, it’s all delightfully anarchic, though how cleverly anarchic it is to open up with the wrong phone number on their Facebook page, I’m not so sure. When I first tried to book, I got an answerphone message from a hesitant old lady.

Once at our table though, things go smoothly enough. Our ingenue waitress is charming and eager with her work cut out looking after a giddy table of four, some well-oiled walk-ins and us.

We order tartiflette quiche and the charcuterie plate to start, followed by sea trout with almonds and a special of Toulouse sausage and potato. The chef gets to work in the open plan kitchen, the waitress busies herself with our wine, all French, served by the glass, carafe or bottle and priced around £4.50, £12.50 and £17.50 respectively.

The tartiflette (£4.50) is soothingly lovely. Layers of soft potato, ham and egg in a crisp pastry case, served with salad leaves and a spoonful of Pommery mustard. The charcuterie plate contains saucisson, chicken liver pate, coppa, salad leaves, gherkin and silverskin (£5.95).

Nothing thrilling, just what it says on the tin. While our mains are being prepared, a customer phones for directions and the chef leaves the stove and steps into the restaurant to deal with it. When the smoke alarm goes off the waitress and young lad helper flap around us with a tea towel. A waiter from a restaurant across the road pops over to borrow a corkscrew.

New arrivals are asked to share tables with strangers: “Do you mind? It’s the way we do it here,” says the waitress. Informality is the recurring theme.

Soon we’re in full family French bistro mode. Strangers are swapping business cards, a couple are bonding outside over a roll-up and when raucous heavy metal goes on the sound system – from O’Hare’s collection no doubt – we unanimously demand they change it.

As in France, a tranche of sea trout (£10.50) comes simply with green beans, toasted almonds and beurre noisette, nothing more. It’s well executed.

The butter is taken to just the right noisetteness and there are plenty of toasted almonds for crunch. Toulouse sausage is fine and simple, too. Desserts are straight down the line: crème caramel (£4.50) or lemon tart (£5) with a few redcurrants for decoration, French classics resisting any temptation of reinvention.

There you have it, capable and persuasively authentic, well priced and great fun, another small indy to add to the appealing world food mile of Fossgate and Walmgate what with Mumbai Lounge, the Hairy Fig, Blue Bicycle, Melton’s Too, Paulo’s Italian Paradiso del Cibo, the Polish Barbakan, the Argentine El Gaucho, the Thai Khao San Road and more. Spare a thought, though, for the estimable J Baker’s at the top end of Fossgate. Last month, he shut up shop after seven impressive years, blaming national chains like Jamie’s, Wagamama’s and the rest for bringing 1,500 additional seats to a city with a finite number of bums.

One door closes; another door opens. A fond farewell and a warm welcome. Greatly enjoyed both. Good luck to both.

• Le Cochon Aveugle, 37 Walmgate, York YO1 9TX. 01904 640222, www.facebook.com/LeCochonAveugle. Open: Tue-Sat 6pm-10pm. Price: Three course approx. £21.50 plus wine and coffee.