Jean Louis in Dormont is a welcome addition to the neighborhood, although it would be great if staff treated female diners with more respect.
Near the entrance, you can’t miss the framed chef’s ribbon from the Chaine des Rotisseurs, the gastronomic society founded in Paris centuries ago and revived in 1950. The restaurant’s display suggests that dining here will be a soigne situation, with well-trained servers as guides through an elegant meal. Maybe my expectations might have been a little high for a suburban bistro, but if a restaurant is going to blast credentials at the door, I expect it to deliver.
Jean Louis doesn’t yet: While there are aspects to like among dishes and the setting, the service is more clueless than malevolent — especially when it comes to its treatment of women diners.
Before I get all Rodney Dangerfield on you, let me tell you the backstory of Jean Louis. It’s named for the famous late French chef Jean-Louis Palladin, who operated a restaurant in D.C.’s Watergate Hotel from the late ’70s to the ’90s. Palladin changed dining in America with his high expectations for quality ingredients that were beyond those used at the time in fine-dining restaurants in this country. He was also known for his appetite for beauty, as well as his eye for talent, having nurtured the careers of Eric Ripert of Le Bernardin and Daniel Boulud, two among many. In terms of his connection to Pennsylvania, Mr. Palladin was smitten with the lamb raised by John and Sukey Jamison at Jamison Farms in Latrobe.
Enter Gaetano Ascione, the globetrotting chef who considers Palladin an idol, whom, he says, he staged for in his youth. Originally from Naples, Italy, Mr. Ascione landed last year in Pittsburgh to oversee the Pennsylvania Market. In the winter, he pivoted to transform what had been the Indian-inspired Needle & Pin into a destination restaurant specializing in French cuisine.
Jean Louis Parisian Bistro
3271 W. Liberty Ave.
Dormont
jeanlouispgh.com
- Hours: 11 a.m. to 3 p.m, 4 -10 p.m., Tuesday through Thursday; 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., 4 p.m. to midnight Friday, 4 to midnight Saturday, 4 to 10 p.m. Sunday.
- Prices: Wine $11 to $13 by the glass, $42 to $158 by the bottle, cocktails $11 to $15, appetizers $8 to $12, salads $8 to $12, main courses $22 to $30, sides $6 to $8.
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Details: Reservations, street parking, event space.
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Wild Card: The chef is the character and works the room; you’ll likely meet him during a visit.
Jean Louis opened in December with the decor in keeping with Pittsburgh’s French restaurant revival that we’re seeing in places like Poulet Bleu in Lawrenceville and Bertrand in Scott: checkered tablecloths, toile accents, still-life oil paintings and a generally romantic vibe. The Dormont spot is the backdrop for a place that serves appetizers that include snails from Burgundy ($12) French onion soup ($8), salade Nicoise ($12) and main courses such as beef Bourguignon ($26), and coq au vin ($24).
My first visit with a table of four dropped about $300; it included a bottle of reasonably priced Cabernet Franc, that, when I ordered it, was served to the gentleman to my left, because servers thought serving the man was more in keeping with points of service. In the olden days when women were encouraged to be demure (and silent), a man traditionally ordered and sampled wine before it was poured for the table. And while I get there’s a retro vibe at the restaurant, I think the management can go over the points of service to address what to do when the person ordering is a woman.
Not long after the pour, a different server suggested to the women at my table that we should stick to the salmon because the portions for meat entrees were “too much for a lady.”
After we picked our jaws up off the table, we proceeded to order a meaty feast that started with a lovely version of snails served in a shallow bowl of garlic butter and herbs, along with a fine beet salad, a colorful dish with saffron-peach puree, a cider-vinegar and honey dressing with ricotta salata. For that first course, the chef served the table an off-menu mozzarella en Carrozza, what’s essentially a fresh mozzarella grilled cheese that’s breaded and fried, laced with anchovy, and, in this version, served with kale. It was delivered after said gentleman at my table declined Mr. Ascione’s suggestion to order a lobster special, since he’s allergic to crustaceans.
Among mains, the pappardelle Cinghiale featured a delicious boar ragout, fine fare on the last night of snow flurries for the season; thankfully, my woman friend and I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the manly portion. We may have been, had we ordered the Jamison lamb, a huge bone-in portion on a bed of mashed potatoes that was more memorable for presentation than the taste, which surprised me considering the source — it was tough; the kitchen should have nailed this. My tablemate was also not impressed by the duck a l’Orange, served with mushroom risotto.
On the side, we were sure to order a plate of what turned out to be wilted fries — primarily because they’d been touted on the website as a specialty in an essay as to how to make them properly. Also on the website, you’ll find a fatherly introduction to the history of the French bistro, from “the only Michelin-starred chef in Pittsburgh” in a letter that allows diners to meet the chef before a visit. Mr. Ascione has been affiliated with two two-star Michelin restaurants in France, he says.
The gentlemen at my table had plenty of time to catch up with Mr. Ascione toward the end of the meal, as he made his way through the dining room to greet the men, dressed in his clean double-breasted chef coat. While they bantered, we women enjoyed chocolate mousse and an apple tart Tatin among desserts.
On another visit to the bar, I was invisible. Even if it took longer for me than other diners to get served, it was better than my first experience, though it goes against the fine-dining practice of treating any and every diner like a VIP. I had a savory and satisfying coq au vin and revisited crepe Solette, one of my favorite dishes on the menu for its simplicity.
While I was there I was thinking about my colleague’s recent article about Jean Louis’ Politically Incorrect Cooking Classes, an event series named for Mr. Ascione’s TV show in Singapore under the same name. The classes started April 1 with a goal of demystifying French cooking and dining, which I think is great. But in hearkening back to a retro dining era — which, in light of #MeToo feels tone deaf — I wish a spirit of respect and hospitality for all diners permeated the restaurant and its events.
Melissa McCart: mmccart@post-gazette.com.
First Published: April 9, 2019, 6:30 p.m.