ZAGAT 2005/2006

' "Exquisite" Classic French food helps turn this "tiny" "charmer" in Bergenfield into "a must" when "a trip to Paris" is out of the question and you need a culinary reminder of the city's classic dishes; chef-owner Dominique Payraudeau is a "true-artist" "who cares" ; ...'   

 Food Rating: 26

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As seen in

SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 30, 2001

Mr. Payraudeau (pronounced pay-roe-DOE) works in the mold of chefs who came of age in the 1960’s and 70’s, like Jacques Pepin and Julia Child. Like them, he respects his ingredients and is comfortably grounded in classic technique; like them, he has the energy and skill to break out of the mold, to simplify and improvise when the mood takes him. This adds up to solid, crowd-pleasing cooking with just enough surprises to keep things interesting.

One recent Saturday night, for instance, we ordered an entree of skate. This is a fish that seldom swims through New Jersey restaurant waters; I can’t recall seeing it on a menu in years. If I do, I’ll order it again, but I’ll be amazed if I like it as much as Chez Dominique’s version, a flat, sprawling beauty that covered most of its large plate. It was flaky and not at all rubbery, its faintly nutty flavor enlivened but not drowned out by browned butter redolent of capers.

Another night, grilled jumbo shrimp in an appetizer were a bit overdone but drew great vivid flavor from their marinade of herbs and garlic and their basil-lemon infusion. On the side, for contrast, was a delicious little heap of eggplant caviar.

Salmon is my nominee for fish most in need of a vacation. For some reason, many chefs insist on preparing it in ways that overemphasize its natural fattiness — with maple-syrup glaze, for example. Mr. Payraudeau's salmon entree won me over. He served it in a bowl, in a fish broth with Mediterranean scents of cumin, coriander and anise. His smoked salmon appetizer, with creme fraiche and capers, was pleasingly mild.

Terrine of foie gras is worth its $15.50 price tag, about double that of the other appetizers — a sensationally buttery slab of liver, generous enough to be shared by two. “I hope you have a healthy heart,” our waiter remarked with a wicked grin.

Easy for him to say. Your cardiologist would probably advise you to go for the vegetable terrine, with layers of eggplant, fennel, carrots and red peppers bound by just enough goat cheese and given a sharp, welcome flavor jolt by whole cumin seeds.

Mr. Payraudeau does classic, too. Those blackboard menus change regularly, but they offer a representative selection of appetizers and entrees that could have appeared in any French bistro from the time Snoopy was shot down by the Red Baron. There’s not much to say about them other than that they deliver good value. Prices are fairly high: you’ll spend at least $50 a person for three courses, tax and tip, plus whatever wine you carry in. But appetizers like snails in a fragrant garlic butter or a rich crab tart bound with Gruyere cheese, and main courses like sole amandine and duck a l’orange, are about as good as those dishes get.

I was more taken with a Provencal seafood pasta — scallops, shrimp and chunks of lobster over linguine in a tomato sauce scented with saffron and Pernod. Veal chop forestiere was terrific, meaty and tender, with generous side offerings of portobello mushroom and a shoestring-potato galette. Lamb shank, the quintessential autumn dish, drew abundant flavor from a spice chest of ingredients and from long cooking in a deep, rich broth with a mirepoix of vegetables. Another fall dish, rabbit, was dry in spots, but its accompaniments of gratin potatoes, spinach crepe and a bacon-endive compote made it a fine four-course meal in itself.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Payraudeau has a way with comfort-food desserts like chocolate souffle (it does not need to be ordered hours in advance) and a rich, eggy, almost cheeselike clafoutis with fresh berries. But his fresh sorbets and pear glacé parfait — authentically grainy pear sorbet with a deep purple layer of black-currant sorbet — make adapt, light ending to a rich and satisfying meal. Chez Dominique may be a hard place to find, but it’s even harder to leave.

As seen in Bergen County

Fine Dining
At Chez Dominique in Bergenfield
By MARGE PERRY Restaurant Review

This cozy hideaway is tucked next door to a billiard hail on an almost-seedy block in downtown Bergen field - if you weren't looking for it, you'd never notice it there.

The single front window is covered in lace curtains reminiscent of a Parisian bistro and the exposed brick walls are punctuated with a few pictures. The warmth of the atmosphere comes not from the pleasant but minimal decor, hut from the clusters of white-clothed tables topped with glowing votives, the devoted servers, and the elegant food.

The food is, in a word, outstanding. It is deeply rooted in classic French style, and many of the offerings - listed on portable blackboards brought tableside - are very traditional dishes.

Sweetbreads - thymus glands of calves, pigs, or sheep - are not as popular in America as they are in France. But if you've never tried them, Chez Dominique's version is bound to make you a devotee. Order the sweetbreads with morels ($22.50), and you will be brought a crock filled with aromatic, tender sweetbreads and morel mushrooms braised in the company of turnips, carrots, and onions - all swimming in a heavenly rich brown reduction sauce napped with sherry and a touch of cream. Take a bite, and sink into ecstasy over your meal.

The magret duck breast, served with a confit leg ($26.50) and accompanied by a lovely jewel-toned pile of red cabbage (cooked in a heady combination of duck tat, raspberry vinegar, and juniper berries) looks appealing, and turns out to taste even better. Here is duck with robust game flavor Ñ and, oh, that sauce! A powerfully flavored reduction, perfect for swiping forkfuls of duck, makes us swoon, and we find out later why Chef Dominique Payraudeau finishes the sauce with a hit of foie gras puree. A bite of duck with the sauce, then a forkful of the goat cheese flan served as an accompaniment, tells us all we need to know about marrying flavors on a plate.

The friend at our table who ordered the steak au poivre ($28.50) has a rather smug look on his face, and seems to be crowing when he declares his Black Angus steak one of the best he's had. Hrmph, you think, steak doesn't require the culinary artistry of these sweetbreads. You taste the generously fiery peppercorn crust against the deep meat flavor and understand why your friend is looking so pleased.

Everyone at the table falls in love with the braised lamb shank ($26.50). The meltingly tender meat, redolent of garlic and perfumed with rosemary, is somehow a little exotic, and you're all perplexed. Someone asks the very competent and dapper waiter what the elusive other flavor is, but he says it is only garlic and rosemary. You are a group of chefs and food writers, so spice names start flying at the waiter. Is it cumin? No, garam masala! Wait, maybe it's cardamom! I think it's a combination of cardamom, cinnamon, and cumin! another triumphantly exclaims. No matter that this group of six, all of whom have professional palates, can't say. We all love it, and insist that to figure it out we must have another taste, and another ... Later, upon calling chef-owner Payraudeau, we learn the combination of subtle combination of Middle Eastern spices that give the dish its depth.

I am pleased that on the night I order sole with almonds, capers, and lemon ($25.50) I am with a smaller group, and have to share much less. Amber fillets have precisely enough coating to protect the sweet, mild fish and give it just a hint of texture. The drizzle of rich lemony sauce links little piles of the almonds and capers like treasure troves on the plate.

The one dish that fell short of expectations was a red snapper ($25.50), listed on the menu as served in a tomato saffron sauce. How did this incredibly talented chef allow a piece of overcooked fish to leave his domain? And where was the saffron? And what was this master of balancing flavors thinking when he compiled that sweet, sharp vinegary cooked cabbage and onion accompaniment?

Payraudeau opened Chez Dominique in the former site of Chez Madeleine last May, after 10 years as executive chef at New York City's highly touted La Reserve. Perhaps it was there, (or was it at The Terrace, La Chantilly, or Quo Vadis?) that he also mastered the art of desserts.

Every dessert we sampled (including the Grand Mariner soufflé, $7, which must be ordered at the start of the meal) was classically and beautifully executed.

Here is the creme brulee ($6.50) so many restaurants aspire to: White chocolate is hidden from the palate but gives velvety rich texture to the custard, and the topping is a perfect snap of burned sugar.

The chef's judicious hand shows up again in the lemon soufflétart ($6.50). Once again, respect for the pure, true flavors of a dish, not marred by too much sugar (or salt, or any other seasonings) makes dining at Chez Dominique a participatory experience in the true art of French cooking.

Fare: French.
Prices: Appetizers $5 to $15.50: entrees $22.50 to $32.
Credit cards: MC, V.
Reservations: Yes.
Days closed Sunday, Monday.
Liquor, wine: No.
Facilities: for the disabled: No.
Non-smoking area: Smoking Is not permitted.
Atmosphere: Cozy, charming bistro.
Dress: Smart casual.
Rated by The Record: Oct. 20, 2000

Restaurants are rated on the quality of their food, atmosphere, service, and value. Halves are given when a restaurant surpasses a level of food, service, or ambiance. Reviewer, make at least two anonymous visits to a restaurant, and The Record always pays the tab,.

¥ Poor
* Fair
** Good
*** Excellent
**** Outstanding