Rosemary Parkinson, Contributor
Le Deauville restaurant in Lexington, Kentucky. - PHOTOS BY ROSEMARIE PARKINSON
THE ONE thing that is constant in life is change and, therefore, I found myself on a U.S. Airways flight to Charlotte, Kentucky in the United States, after some 20 years I might add, although I did a Miami 'intransit' last year. First shock - Charlotte and its civilised, friendly airport. They even had rocking chairs to while away the hours for my connecting flight - the entire airport was so squeaky clean I could have eaten off the floor.
Now I am in Lexington. Blue Grass country. Absolutely, charming. And the people? Amazingly friendly! A gentleman who nearly bumped into me as I was exiting the airport, was very apologetic, giving me the right of way with a broad smile, his gesture so taking me by surprise that I began to cross the road without paying attention and a taxi (yep! A taxi) stopped and, without blowing my brains out with his horn followed by bad-words - smiled and gave me the courtesy of walking over the pedestrian crossing unharmed. Culture shock.
Been here a week and no one has accosted my windshield with mucky water. Not one man has asked me what I might like him to do with me to further enhance my 'holiday', nor shoved maps, flags, towels, bottled water, or fruits through my window at every stoplight. Cashiers in stores wish me a good day and invite me to 'visit' again. Am I on earth? You know, I love my Caribbean, especially 'my Jamaica', but there is no doubt that we get used to certain behaviour patterns that we really should not accept.
Lexington (about two hours from Louisville, home of the Kentucky Derby) is famous not only for its farms and fine horse breeding, or for its array of medical institutions, including a state-of-the-art Children's Hospital and a University Hospital equal to none, or its historic brownstone buildings but, believe it or not, for the ironic fact that, per capita, it has the most restaurants/eateries within a specific area than any other town in the U.S. So I am now told.
Along the miles of main strip known as Richmond, leading into downtown Lexington, there are hundreds of restaurants - this does not include those within the town itself and off the beaten path. So yes! I have been on an eating binge and I make no apologies - diet out the window. From Mexican, to waffles to steak and ribs; from fast food to health food to fine dining, I have been doing Dixie with them all - two and three times a day. I had planned to do the fast foods we have in Jamaica to make comparisons but no sah! If I'm going to add poundage to my body, let it be for something different, thank you very much. During this week of food-fest, I am more than delighted to report - haven't had one bad experience but, believe you me, I am still looking.
This week I have chosen a French restaurant downtown Lexington to review - next week will be about some innovative ideas within supermarkets, for I have been scouring them too.
Le Deauville is situated right on a corner so that with its brownstone look, its wide glass doors that open onto the sidewalk, one feels in Paris and not in the middle of the USA this is further confirmed as you enter. The interior of polished wood is inviting and warm, the ever so France-music hovering lightly in the background of patrons obviously enjoying themselves without being inconsiderately loud or overpowering; tables, close to each other but with seating arrangement that work as a divider between same, are set either around the well-appointed bar (with stools), on the adjoining sidewalk under the stars or further into the restaurant itself as it 'disappears' behind the wall of the bar where my daughter and I were immediately seated to await "a lovely table for Mesdames."
Not a problem for me, being a Caribbean barfly. Now wine, of course, is de rigueur, with quite a selection being presented and Champagne - Veuve Cliquot - at US$80 nearly sucking me in but, we both were in need of a real pick-me-up, a touch of 'home' if you will, ordering margaritas, of all things. Jacob, the barman, did not flinch. "We don't offer frozen margaritas as we do not have blenders but can gladly make you my speciality, an icy margarita that I shake." D'accord. When in France, served, of course, in larger than life salted glasses (we were asked first) with the added attraction of an extra shot of tequila placed in a halved lime that had been pushed inside out to make a floating cup, this margarita was so divine, I continued with another through dinner, enjoying a third with dessert. So, so gauche - but then - I am known for having no pretensions.
We both went for the Escargot de Bourgogne - like mother like daughter, there's no passing an escargot by. Smothered in garlic 'beurre', we both looked at each other quizzically at first, not recognising this little French snail at all until my 'buds' flew to gay Paris, to a time when tastes were not of canned but of fresh! We were indeed eating fresh snails flown in from the capital of France. Hmmm. What a joy to savour each plump morsel, later 'mopping' up the lightly herbed butter with our miniature French baguettes - crusty and very, very Francais.
For Entrée, Marie-France chose Selle d'agneau au choux de Bruxelle - pan seared lamb loin, brussel sprouts, port jus lie. I went for Lapin Dijonnaise - Stewed Rabbit, Dijon Mustard Sauce. I have to say I was a little nervous about the rabbit but Maitre D' Renee (French for Randy according to this America born) assured me this was a wise choice - having no idea about Caribbean bony rabbits he could not understand my hesitation. The lamb was tender, off the bone, sliced into perfect rounds and served with baked crusted grated potato. Just as a rather handsome large horse pulling an antique carriage cloppety-clopped by the sidewalk, a couple in its interior enjoying the warm night air, and making me feel more Europe than ever.
I took a taste of my rabbit. Dear God! What a joy. No need for a knife here. This white scrumptious rabbit meat, obviously reared for the gods, covered in divine sauce with just a hint of Dijon, falling away from itself, melting in my mouth as easily as freshly whipped cream, was served on a mound of perfectly mashed potatoes, garnished with fine carrot sticks al dente and was, to say the least, totally delightful.
For dessert there was a Crème Caramel and my daughter ate with all the relish that a fabulous caramel flan deserves - not before I tasted to ensure it was good enough for her, of course! I put my head on the Brulee block again with a Crème Brulee au Chocolat. I can report without hesitation that it arrived with a perfect, and I mean perfect, crackly crust that like breaking ice over water led me into the delights of a smooth chocolate cream warming my heart and soul.
Coffee and an interesting chat with our 'Renee' who claims to own "a piece of the tile" having worked at Le Deauville since opening in 2003 ended our evening with much pleasure. In a town where a French restaurant seemed quite a nutty undertaking and people warned it might not last, this spot has set a pattern from day one. With his sexy French accent, Christophe, the owner, fully suited but with open jacket in true French style, greets everyone with the same welcoming flair. The 'aproned' waiters of Le Deauville do just that, wait on you. The atmosphere steams of passion for good French home-cooking "like my mother taught me" (according to Christophe). These attributes, amongst others, have contributed to Le Deauville becoming so popular that right through the year, it is difficult to get a table for dinner - hence they are now opening for lunch! Food for thought eh?
Le Deauville
199 N. Limestone,
Lexington, Kentucky
Phone: (859) 246 0999
Dinner for two, three courses, four Margaritas US$124
