Chez Pierre

A Festive Adieu to Autumn

Located along the sprawling, wooded fringes of the Aoyama graveyard, Chez Pierre first reminded me of a movie set: the graceful blue neon sign situated above the green awning, the white brick walls adorned with paintings and bric-a-brac, the porcelain light fixtures, the open kitchen, the tables on the sidewalk.

But I soon realized this was an inappropriate comparison, because a movie set is merely a smoke-and-mirrors approximation of reality, whereas Chez Pierre is the genuine article.

Pierre Prigent, who hails from Brittany, set up shop here in 1967. Like all good concepts, Prigent's was simple: Serve authentic French cuisine made from the best ingredients in an authentic setting. Unlike many restaurants in Tokyo, Chez Pierre isn't about posturing -- it is about creating a culinary microcosm that will stand up to the most rigorous scrutiny.

As my dining confrere and I walked to the restaurant from Omotesando, we pondered the age-old question, What is French food? I have been to France. I've laughed at "Mr. Hulot's Holiday." I've rolled my eyes at old Jerry Lewis bits. But I hadn't a clue what to expect from Prigent's menu.

Dinner began as a colorful still life as servers displayed trays laden with seafood (sole, sea bass, conch, lobster, abalone), plump cuts of meat (black pork, lamb) and poultry (quail, pigeon, duck). Prigent confidently and enthusiastically explained the fare, most of which had arrived from France via express mail that afternoon, then started us with seafood and mushroom salads. The former consisted of shrimp, substantial chunks of lobster, strips of smoked salmon and creamy mussels and scallops. Tossed in a zesty dressing with pink peppercorns, it was fresh and sweet, perfectly balanced. The mushroom salad featured three varieties -- trompette, pied de mouron, girolles -- slices of conch and red lettuce. If you doubt how delectable a mushroom salad can be, tuck into this. It was a tremendous surprise, deeply flavorful with engaging textures.

After the next dish, mussels in a light, tasty broth, Prigent joined us to talk up his Beaujolais Nouveau celebration, which he has hosted every November since 1976. This year, the festivities are from the 21st to the 23rd, with twice-nightly all-you-can-drink and -eat seatings featuring seasonal dishes and a selection of special wines. Reservations are recommended, for the event has become something of a sensation, a way many choose to bid a final, festive adieu to autumn.

Seasonal selections highlighted the main courses. A rich and hearty partridge with trompette mushrooms, mixed vegetables and a dollop of whipped potatoes was, to this American, reminiscent of the best tastes of Thanksgiving. The second entr�e, pork, was accompanied by raisins, chestnuts and vegetables, including wonderful steamed endives. It's extraordinarily easy to transform a good piece of pork into a heel replacement for your wingtips. Prigent, however, really got it right: juicy, cooked evenly, perfect texture.

Of the parade of desserts, cr�me caramel was the best, its mild, smoky bitterness tempered by a semisweet sauce. Psychedelically vivid raspberry sherbet garnered subdued moans of pleasure, as did a light confection with pistachios, forest strawberries and pineapple.

To conclude, if you're looking for an all-out escape from the ambience and indigenous foods of our host country, Chez Pierre is a sure bet. Though a full lunch set runs about Y2,000, dinner isn't as inexpensive a proposition, with set courses between Y6,000 and Y8,000, and a la carte items from Y1,000 to Y6,200. But remember, dining should sometimes be less about money and more about enjoyment and experience. Chances are you'll walk out of Chez Pierre feeling just a little bit -- if not a lot -- better than you did when you walked in.