Sophie's Bistro

Sophie's Bistro
700 Hamilton Street
Somerset, New Jersey
http://www.sophiesbistro.net/




Do you recall that romantic getaway to Provence? The one where you would walk hand-in-hand all day, perhaps explore an open field on bicycle, only to return to your rustic accomodations, hair still smelling of fresh lavender. You open are overwhelmed with the scent of gently boiling coq au vin; shoes creaking on the wide pumpkin pine floor boards, you salivate at the thought of soon feeling the fresh snap of perfectly seasoned haricot vert between your teeth. Can you still envision the French woman, with an elegant bun and classic blue-and-yellow apron serving delicacies that seemed to fill your soul on their way to your stomach?


That's ok, me neither. The closest I've been to Provence was a jaunt to Paris, and the closest encounter that I've had with lavender was courtesy of Bath and Body Works.

Sophie's Bistro invites you into one such experience and boasts an environment that is at once cozy, hip and unpretentious. More evenings than not, the owner himself (Peter) is assisting in getting patrons seated and comfortable. Walls covered in French paintings, postcards and imagery - the space draws upon the typical bistro decor, replete with painted windows and dim lighting.

The culinary adventure began with Crevettes à l’Ail, a delightful dish of shrimp and mushrooms in garlic that pairs beautifully with the fresh bread. Sophie's interpretation of Escargot is disappointing, only if you are hoping for a Parisian memory. One of my favorite culinary passtimes in Paris was to compare escargot at each Bistro, and whose pesto was best. Sophie's, however, keeps to its regional roots and offers an escargot in a shallot and garlic sauce that stands up with strong and unified flavor. As a word of warning, there are no hot lights at Sophie's, which means that all food comes out oven-piping-hot. Be sure to have bread and wine at the ready....this is never a problem.

Indulgent dinner options abound; my personal favorite is Le Coq au Vin de Sophie, a magical combination of fresh vegetables, chicken, white wine and cream. The cream is difficult to convince to bind to the wine and often separates, which can be unappetizing. However, the fork tender vegetables and fall-off-the-bone chicken is enough to convince even the most discerning aesthetic eater to clean their plate.
The Magret de Canard cooked medium rare is a delight to behold. Decorated with honey raisin-cognac demi glaze, the duck achieves the perfect marriage of sweet and savory. Unlike the Jambe D'agneau Braisée (lamb shank braised in a port wine reduction), the flavors are inventive and the meat perfectly tender and lean.

There are also options that are economical - only on the wallet, never on portion, flavor or quality. Sophie's version of Croque Monsiuer with pommes frites is delectable and nothing short of stunning. The perfect layering of quality imported ham and emmentalier cheese on country bread is served open face. I always end with more bread than I need, but never unsated. On a related note, the pommes frites must be called as such, because they transcend the words "french fries". They are perfectly cooked, salted and have just the right amount of crunch and melt. It is worth investing in a side order for the table if you choose to make a meal out of appetizers (I'm a big proponent of French Tapas).

Sophie's offers a traditional dessert menu that, upon first glance, appears uninventive. Their execution, however, is never short of impecable. You may *think* you know, but you have no idea. Chocolat Sophie rethinks a "chocolate volcano cake" with deep and bitter chocolate foundations, and mild fresh whipped cream. The apple tart also refuses to condescend to saccharine palates and takes the higher road with a celebration of dense apple flavors and tartness against the backdrop of a buttery crust.

I rarely comment on wine, because each glass is unique and completely judged by the expectations and preferences of the person drinking it. I will, however, say that my husband and I have never been disappointed by any of their Cote du Rhone or Beaujolais, but felt that a Chateneuf du Pape fell a bit flat.

The friendliness of service at Sophie's varies based on how busy the evening is; you will never get rude treatment, but sometimes the waitstaff seem overwhelmed. During a slow evening you can enjoy great conversation and feel like you are dining with friends. The service is always, but always classically French in that noone hovers over your table, nor do they disappear when you most need them. They quietly and naturally replenish drinks, and inquire about your experience in the most sincere fashion (one of my few serving pet peeves are servers that ask how the food is nanoseconds after one of their compatriots has placed it in fornt of me). The evening (or afternoon) is always well spent, and the menu offers diversity of taste and price that any patron could find comfort in.

Hors d'oeuvre

For some years now I have enjoyed being a New Brunswick local, both living and working in the area.
I can tell you which restaurants validate at the Church Street parking deck, who makes the best vodka gimlet, where to get a well seasoned rack of lamb, and how to find the most authentic and inexpensive kofta.

And yet when my friends, colleagues, husband and I are looking for a place to dine out together: we often find ourselves victims of the unimaginative, trans-fat laden, and apologetically microwavable menus of the many chain restaurants that thrive on the outskirts of town. Why is this?

Many argue that the chief reason is sheer economics: dining out in restaurants with real tablecloths = an astronomical bill replete with $30 entrees and $8 cocktails. NOT true.
Yes, there are opportunities (read: pitfalls) to splurge at many dining establishments - but there is divine food, well balanced service and impeccable culinary experiences to be had at ALL budget levels.

I do not pretend to have any expertise, ulterior motives, or agenda. However, in the spirit of full disclosure, a few disclaimers:

1. I have eaten in some of the best restaurants in NYC....and have eaten in many sketchy basement cafes with a curious and unidentifiable odor.
Some of the best quality and most interesting meals were had in the latter environment.

2. I believe in the beautiful marriage of food, friends, drinks - PERIOD.
I define "Fine Dining" as an establishment that provides a platform for this heavenly triumvirate. Food snobs beware: I might possibly write about Stuff Yer Face and Stage Left in the same month....or week....gasp! And with the first lovely spring evening, I plan to make a visit to the Grease Trucks....ok, there, I scared the last one away.
My real point:
While a neighborhood "beer and burger" joint and a Zagat rated restaurant cannot be compared, each can be (and should be) appreciated and honored for their own strengths.

3. I will not disclose to a restaurateur or server that I am planning to write about my experience. I am writing this in the same spirit that my girlfriends and I compare "dining out" stories. In contrast to food critics and restaurant reviewers, I will NOT be actively looking for holes or room for criticism.
I dine out frequently and documenting the experience is really a tertiary goal.
My primary goal is to have a good time, the second is to order and consume original and well executed food. On the other hand, if you get in the way of me achieving goals #1 and 2, whether it be via snooty service or overcooked chicken - it will likely be mentioned goal #3.

I'm very much looking forward to sharing and hope that this exercise will encourage me (and all of us) to explore our palates and support our city.