Mercat Bistro mimics true French dining — but not really in a good sense
REAL MEN EAT THIS | The airy quiche Lorraine looks like lemon custard pie, but the taste is pure Paris.
ARNOLD WAYNE JONES | Life+Style Editor
The music playing when you walk into Mercat Bistro sounds like the opening credits to a Woody Allen movie — jaunty, jazzy, slightly old-fashioned. Glance around and the décor reflects that: Tiny café tables (too tiny — it can feel like a 6-year-old’s tea party) are set with linen “dish towel” serviettes and mismatched tea plates. Herbs in dwarf terra cotta pots serve as de facto centerpieces. Written on the mirrors are the day’s bill of fare. If you’ve been to Balthazar or Pastis in New York City, or even Dallas’ Café Toulouse until it lost a lot of its charm, you’ll recognize the ambiance. And anyone who has been to Paris will recognize the service: Inattentive.
The French get a bad rap, but not an unjustified one. That carries over at Mercat, in Uptown next to Saint Ann. On one visit, I sat 20 minutes until my dining company arrived … and no one came to check on me until she was seated: Not to refill my water or ask if I wanted a bowl of almonds — nothing. I was invisible.
Not good, but just getting started. The entrees performed a major disappearing act: After our order was taken, our tea glasses were routinely refilled, though no one seemed to notice we sat without any food. For an hour.
After complaining, our orders (which apparently had never been submitted to the kitchen) were finally put in. The manager offered an apology and said we would be “taken care of.” When our bill arrived, that meant we weren’t charged for the entrees; we still had to pay for everything else. (A full comp was in order if you ask me, but I won’t quibble over policy.)
It’s a shame — and may not reflect the overall service ethos, although on another visit our drink sat in eyeshot on the bar while we stared at it, parched — because the food is just as familiar as the décor (and, sadly, the service). From the menu down to its fonts, Mercat echoes the tradition of the Parisian bistro or sidewalk café. At lunch: salads, quiches, sandwiches; at dinner: cote de boeuf for two and trout. There’s even a breakfast. It’s simply not at all memorable.
Roasted tomato and Brie tart ($6) on puffy phyllo scored an early point. Tomatoes draped in strands of brie burbled atop flaky pastry, fresh and vegetal and oh-so French. A dish of oily whole Marcona roasted almonds ($4) provide some addictive additional sustenance awaiting our AWOL entrees.
They were, again, par for the style. The quiche Lorraine ($13) elevated the dish — literally. Airy and tall as a layer cake, is eggy deliciousness wafted on every ambrosial bite. The crust, while thick, was not heavy, and the large bits of lardon added a crunchy, salty tang. (Perhaps too much. The quiche was way too salty, especially cumulatively.) A bibb salad that accompanied the quiche, while fine, didn’t enhance the meal.
The farro/kale salad ($9) with heirloom tomatoes and cucumber took on its most refreshing aroma from mint and a tangy vinaigrette. Our waiter, though, didn’t seem to know what farro was; on a separate visit, an order of chicken paillard was me with blank stares, as if we made it up on the spot rather than reading from the menu. Just as well: the poulet clucked “average.” A hugely portioned croque madame ($14), complete with shirred egg on top, was much better.
Mint didn’t improve upon the pavlova, an egg white meringue that’s both crisp and creamy, and crowned with wedges of grapefruit. A disappointing finale that was par for the course at a place thay still has to parfait its finesse. Those are also French — the kind we hope for.
2501 N. Harwood St. Open Monday–Saturday. MercatBistro.com.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition September 13, 2013.