Author: jean komatsu
Last saved by: Owner

Michel Bistro
3343 Lakeshore Ave., Oakland, CA
http://michelbistro.com/menu/
Review date: August 2014

We have eagerly awaited the opening of the first new French bistro in Oakland. As always, we like to wait until the opening crowds die down and the kitchen settles in. With the opening of the much-ballyhooed Shakewell just a few doors down (where Mezze restaurant used to be), this was a good time to reserve a table at Michel before we leave for Napa.

(Not towards downtown Napa, but to Napa County – mostly to Yountville, which thankfully sustained very little earthquake damage.)

Michel Bistro is located where YaYu Ethiopian used to be, to the left of Noah's Bagels (as you're facing the shops). We thought YaYu was okay but not great, and didn't see the need for two Ethiopian restaurants – Café Romanat is right around the corner on Santa Clara, and has better food – within this short stretch of Lakeshore. 

There is money in this area, which is why Trader Joe's, Peet's, Boot & Shoe pizzeria, and the sizable Saturday's Farmers Market are centered around the venerable Grand Lake Theatre/Lake Merritt. But the locals remain value-oriented, so artisanal is fine but fancy upscale is not. Many of Oakland's newer destination restaurants are focused on Oakland's Rockridge or Temescal/Uptown areas, not so much here where retail space has always been costly.

Michel is a long narrow space with a long bar to the left, which fronts the kitchen. A line of banquettes sits against the right wall, and the wooden bistro chairs are comfortably cushioned, unlike many. It promises to be a little noisy when full, however, as that right wall is unrelieved old brick that rises from banquette edge up a full two stories. A staircase leads to a second dining space. I didn't ask or check, but it may be intended for private parties or events. The upstairs space is only half the length of the main floor, so it's good-sized without being unnecessarily huge.

We figured it was a promising sign that the owner and waitstaff were all speaking French, although they also speak excellent English. The fresh bread is fine-grained, very soft French bread, good but on the bland side. 

I liked the tapenade they brought in lieu of butter, but I always love tapenade. This was a green olive version, finely chopped and mixed with a generous amount of garlic, chili flakes, capers and EVOO. Carlos asked the waiter for butter, while I finished up the little crock of tapenade.

Carlos was taken aback when his French onion soup appeared. We love the classic 1960's bistro fare, but we have it so seldom (with so few French bistros around, and none near us) that it's hard to remember the French are probably just as bored with their old restaurant standards as we Americans are with diner meatloaf and Rice-A-Roni. 

This French onion soup was full of nicely soft onions, but a very sweet broth had no evidence of any savory edge to it. There was a croute softening up in the broth, but instead of the usual cheesy browned crust, there were three big dollops of soft fresh chevré instead. I'm not as fond of the over-rich classic as Carlos is, so I thought this was an interesting variant. But he was disappointed. He said it was good, but he wasn't in love with it.

The same kind of updating was done to my salad. Instead of the traditional prosciutto-wrapped orange melon slices, there were irregular chunks of a very sweet seedless watermelon, thin slices of smoked duck breast, three spoonfuls of yummy housemade mascarpone, and some annoyingly long-stemmed spicy arugula on top. A drizzling of surprisingly sweet verjus made for a good but unusual first course. Again, I wasn't in love with it, but it was imaginative and nicely balanced. With a few more and better quality greens, it would have rated higher.

For his entrée Carlos ordered the lamb burger. This comes with a choice of either fries or the Little Gem salad, also available separately on the menu. He opted for the salad – he's being very good these days – and received burger, pickle, and salad on a rectangular slab of wood. I'm not fond of the current fad for Paul Bunyon-style tableware, and really don't see the point in something you can't sterilize commercially with bleach (commercial DWs run fast cycles using bleach-based cleaner). Also, I don't like servingware without rims; juices and garnishes tend to dribble/fall off.

Once again we split. I liked the high quality but milder U.S. lamb, topped with a heap of onion shreds braised in vadouvan, the French curry mix. The brioche bun has poppyseeds, along with cress leaves instead of lettuce and a nice quality Cheddar. The housemade pickle wedge is the sour variety. The Little Gem salad was a small heap of beautiful crisp baby whole leaves, nicely dressed with a few slices of watermelon radish for color.

Carlos, however, prefers the stronger-tasting lamb used by Hole In The Wall/Sebastopol and Gaspar/SF. He wasn't expecting the curry flavor of the onions and thought they overwhelmed the mild lamb. He said everything was good, but like the soup, it was not to his taste.

I chose the short rib for my entrée. The menu listed a Cabernet braise, potato salad, Blue Lake Beans, and plums. As often happens, this wasn't the complete story. The short rib was entirely satisfactory, a magnificent hunk of fork-tender beef with a surprising au jus that turned out to be a marinade of Cabernet and puréed pluots, in which the beef was cooked for sixteen hours. It was fruity yet had a good savory edge from the beef juices to make it a perfect backdrop. There was just enough au jus, and not a drop too much.

Instead of potato salad it was accompanied merely by halved fingerlings and baby green beans, a bit al dente but past the usual CA mostly-raw stage. There were only two tart-sweet red plum slices, making for a nice fruity accent instead of an overwhelming proportion of fruit-to-meat. The beef was better-tasting than 95% of the steaks in California; the fatty chuck or shoulder clod cut having much richer flavor than more upscale steak cuts like filet or strip. The potatoes were flavorful, the green beans added their texture and grassiness.

The unusual touch was the addition of a green peppercorn cream sauce, with a few sprigs of fresh cilantro. The drizzle of cream was good with the au jus, cutting that fruitiness down. But the green peppercorns and cilantro were two flavors too many.  The dish would have better without them. I don't care for green peppercorns, and definitely not whole peppercorns of any color. I do like cilantro, but it is undeniably soapy-flavored, and not a great pairing with fruit and beef and peppercorns. 

Michel Bistro redeemed itself nicely on dessert. The list is short, and like most restaurants it cannot avoid the ubiquitous crème brulee. A second dessert was chocolate, another was peach. As this is peach season, we opted to share the roasted peach dessert.

Described as a "tarte crust, housemade mascarpone, honey-caramel sauce", we received a plate with two scoops of the housemade mascarpone, wedges of almost-ripe roasted peach, and an above-average salted honey caramel drizzled over the cheese. The sea salt had been lightly, and irregularly, sprinkled over the caramel, so it added an unexpected dimension as an occasional flavor. The peach could have been a touch more ripe before roasting, but Carlos adored the "tarte crust", which was a large flat triangle stuck on edge into the cheese. Dusted with real cinnamon but no sugar, rich with the taste of good butter, it was flaky and delightful.

The decaf was very good, the cappuccino was as well. The French and Italians take their coffee seriously, for which we are thankful.

In summary, our feelings about Michel Bistro are mixed. They're interesting, they're different, they're creative. There's solid technique and execution behind their dishes, unlike places like Café Bastille/SF, where classic recipes are being executed by cooks who can read a recipe but don't really know the difference between an Amoricaine sauce and a Hollandaise.

Michel is best viewed as a restaurant where serendipity may strike. You are going to get high-quality, tasty, stylish food made by a genuine French chef...but you probably aren't going to get what you've always received from other French restaurants. 

It is, at once, more French and yet somehow less so, than a restaurant like Artisan Bistro/Lafayette or French Garden/Sebastopol. 

Carlos infinitely preferred The Barrel Room/Oakland, where we ate the night before (it's currently serving a Spanish menu), or Auberge du Soleil/Napa Valley, which we ate at the day afterwards. Michel is more my style of restaurant than his. He's not averse to going back, however, so I'd rate them a B+. If you're not familiar with French bistro classics, you shouldn't judge them by Michel Bistro. I think most people would enjoy themselves, but this is a giant leap from little Café Jolie/Alameda, where all the standard dishes are recognizable even by people who've never looked inside a French cookbook in their entire lives.

Michel Bistro isn't Terra Incognita – it's more like "15 degrees to the left". The chef is focusing through a slightly different lens than what most people are expecting. This is a place where you need to be flexible, and enjoy familiar flavors in unusual pairings. If they can get enough people to do that, they'll be successful. The prices are reasonable, and it's a good-looking space with enthusiastic staff.

Two people, dinner: two starters, two entrées, one dessert, three beverages, with tip was $108.