It was well over a year ago, in this newspaper, that I put out a plea for a new high-end contemporary French restaurant in Denver.
I’d had enough of rustic cassoulet and dockworker-style bouillabaisse. Ça suffit with the country pate and hearth-roasted chicken. Steak frites? Pas encore.
No, what I wanted was a fancy, best-behavior place with starched waiters and cuff-linked wine stewards. I wanted, and I quote, “blanquette de veau, poitrine d’Agneau, and quenelles of every description.” I wanted to know, when I looked at my plate, that it took a large, expensively educated, perfectly choreographed team of toque-topped, white-jacketed chefs to prepare it.
So I was delighted when, several months ago, French 250 opened its doors to the Cherry Creek North neighborhood, proffering escargots, coquilles St. Jacques and sauce Soubise. Perhaps my prayers had been answered.
I have been four times. And while it isn’t exactly the eatery of my dreams, French 250 is developing, slowly and methodically, into a confident and refined French restaurant with its own raison d’etre.
The room, tricked out with low banquettes, high-backed booths, chandeliers and swishy Belle Epoque accessories, feels, well, not exactly like Lost Generation Paris, but more like (stay with me here) a contemporary and tasteful if slightly uncertain American interpretation of the bistro down the street from Gertrude Stein’s Rue de Fleurus salon, circa 1923.
Think “Victor/Victoria” meets “The Moderns” somewhere “Under the Cherry Moon.” Complete with Paul Bowles and Alice B. Toklas look-alikes in the corner booth and a surly, fur-draped Josephine Bakeresque barfly surrounded by a klatsch of besuited older gentlemen. Only, not so literal. And in Denver, circa 2008.
Authentic? Alors, ça ne fait rien. It works.
The menu is a big one, several pages divided into courses, and studded with a what’s what of the barbarous luxury that defined 20th-century French cuisine: Steak tartare, consomme de lapin (rabbit soup), cuisses de grenouille (frogs’ legs), and foie gras to the rafters.
It takes some navigating, and the pitfalls come quickly and without warning, but when a dish works, it works.
Loup de mer (sea bass), roasted with brown butter and pine nuts, scored with crispy skin and succulent, briny flesh. The braised short rib with toasted brioche was more delicate than I expected, which I welcomed. Also satisfying, the softly braised lamb shank with white beans and pancetta, sweet and rich and restorative.
Salads were fresh-tasting and lightly dressed, particularly the French 250 salad. But what for the rock-hard cherry tomatoes on this salad in the middle of winter? I wish they’d just been left off. Because bad tomatoes are far, far worse than no tomatoes at all.
Here’s a neat trick: Order a steak or pair of lamb chops from the a la carte menu and mix and match with two or three extemporaneous sauces. Choose the silky, fruity Burgundy reduction and the sultry- sharp cognac peppercorn sauce. (And, if for kicks, order the lemon butter for your New York strip steak. Believe it or not, lemon and steak were made for each other. Sneak a little parsley and salt onto your bite for a hat-trick of flavor.)
Stifle the protestations of your inner Jenny Craig and order a cheese course. Standouts on the not-exclusively French list include the soft, brielike Explorateur, and, naturally, bracing blue Roquefort.
At lunchtime, revisit the lamb shank, which for daytime service is pulled and piled on ciabatta with the burgundy reduction. Or chow on the Hamburger a la 250, house ground and piled with onions and mushrooms. I wish it were on a brioche instead of a baguette (or ciabatta, your choice), but that’s just me being picky. (Hey, it’s my job.)
In either case, order a cone of frites, fresh and hot and blessedly devoid of such nonsense as truffle oil or champagne syrup.
I was psyched to order an omelet for lunch, being that real, old-style French omelets — the kind that are as light as a crepe and twice as delicate, without a trace of brown at the edges — are so hard to come by these days. But French 250’s was clunky, brown, tough and over- dressed with jelled hollandaise.
Also falling short at French 250: Escargots, rubbery. Coquilles St. Jacques (scallops with mushrooms, artichokes and bacon), dense and bland. Foie gras with apples, onions and St. Germain syrup, too sweet by a kilometre.
Over the coming months, watch for French 250 to sharpen its menu, shedding the mediocre stuff. From this will emerge, I hope, what the menu now lacks: One magnificent signature dish.
The wine list, which just last week fell into the hands of a new sommelier, is well-rounded and comprehensive, if dense. It, like most lists, would be well-served with an edit. Wine service until this point has been lovely; here’s hoping the transition sets the bar even higher.
Service, once shaky, is trending up: After a remarkably difficult meal there last fall, subsequent visits have revealed a more refined service experience — not yet perfect, but smoother by the week.
(While some restaurants worry about turning off customers by offering service that is too formal, I think French 250 should do quite the opposite. Keep it buttoned up. Yours is one of the few restaurants around where it makes sense.)
Here’s my other plea to management, which I’m certain will fall on ears with ample reason to ignore it: Eighty-six the television sets at the bar. They are distracting, even from the dining room, and entirely unnecessary. There are so, so many places in Denver to watch television while you eat; it would be nice to count French 250 as one of the few TV-free havens in town.
French 250, if not perfect, brims with potential. No, it won’t transport you to Paris. It won’t conjure Edith Piaf. It won’t inspire you to belt out the Marseillaise or make love in a fountain.
But with shrewd ordering and managed expectations, supper at French 250 can be a lovely way to spend an evening.
Tucker Shaw: 303-954-1958 or dining@denverpost.com
French 250
French. 250 Steele St., 303-331-0250
** 1/2 RATING | Very Good-Great
Atmosphere: Belle-Epoque in Cherry Creek. Large bar area, several booths and banquettes.
Service: A little rickety, but well-intentioned, knowledgeable, improving daily.
Wine: Extensive list; chat up the sommelier for guidance.
Plates: Small plates, $12-$21. Main courses, $21-$38.
Hours: Lunch, Monday-Friday 11 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Dinner, Monday-Saturday 4:30-10 p.m., Sunday 4:30-8 p.m. Brunch, Sunday 10 a.m.-3 p.m.
Details: Reservations recommended. Street parking. Special-occasion dining available. Chef’s table. Patio in the spring.
Four visits.
Our star system:
****: Excellent.
***: Great.
**: Very Good.
*: Good.
