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| William and Maggie Merelle, left, of Rouge bistro in West Stockbridge serve duck pate at The Bountiful Berkshires fundraiser in Sept. 2002 at Eastover in Lenox. |
WEST STOCKBRIDGE -- Not since the days of Miss Ruby's Cafe has West Stockbridge been such a culinary destination.
Truc Orient Express has become somewhat of an institution with its exotic interior and classic Vietnamese menu. La Bruschetta features grand pizza and takeout, with well-chosen wines to go along. But the debut of Rouge has really put the town on the must-go-to list.
The place is quite a draw. A small New England house has been transformed with a dashing awning and entry in come-hither red, flank-ed by potted palms.
Behind a picket fence, scarlet bee balm, blue globe thistle and black-eyed Susans beckon.
Directly as we walked in, we encountered a polished sweep of bar and, to the left, a clutch of couples tête-à-tête at small tables. The room was
It took a bit longer to encounter our hostess, as it was a bustling Saturday night. When she finally appeared, she made up for her absence with a cordial welcome and thoughtful attention to our seating preference. She led us through two convivially noisy interior rooms to a perfect spot outdoors on the balcony. Here, brushed steel tables were sleekly urban against the lush backdrop of huge trees and quiet lawn. Planters of herbs and buckets of citronella candles -- later a welcome defense against mosquitoes -- bridged the gap between the bucolic and the sophisticated, and the tricolored patio umbrellas, with de rigeur vermouth logos, leant a Gallic touch to warm the memory of anyone who has enjoyed café life on the continent.
We started off with the irresistable house cocktails, the Rouge and Blanc Royales ($7). The former was a fizzy blend of Blanc de Blancs and cassis; the latter replaced the currant liqueur with Lillet aperitif and a zest of orange. They came in whimsical little flutes and were refreshing as a breeze.
A succession of fresh-faced waiters dropped by to proffer menus, to describe the specials -- which included ostrich and mahi mahi for appetizers and pasta with chanterelles for an entrée, to fetch water, to offer an assortment of small breads, to bring cutlery that was forgotten the first time around, etc.
They were charming and enthusiastic, if not yet fully synchronized in the rhythms of service.
My husband's starter featured a mound of excellent crab salad, dotted with a mince of colorful peppers, surrounded by creamy slices of avocado and served on a bed of baby spinach ($7). It was light and lovely.
Being more familiar with the Burgundian preparation of escargots in garlicky herb butter, I was curious to try them in the Provençal style, and was rewarded with a dish of six or seven plump snails in a fragrant broth of tomato, onion and herbs kissed with cream and accompanied by cloudlike morsels of polenta. ($7)
My only complaint was that I was provided neither a spoon nor a chunk of baguette with which to scoop up the last of the liquid.
For dinner I chose the bistro classic of Steak au Poivre ($21), billed to come with watercress salad and pommes frites. The steak was perfectly rare and the cognac sauce was duly redolent with pan juices and pepper. The potatoes came hot and deliciously crisped, though not as delicately thin-cut as I'd learned to love them in France.
The watercress salad was a disappointing four small sprigs tucked under one end of the steak -- more like a garnish, really.
A glass of Chateau Piquat St. Emilion ($7) was a wonderful accompaniment with a velvety feel in the mouth.
My husband's dinner was a more complex affair: braised duck and shredded potato cake, sau-téed spinach, French beans with herbed balsamic and vanilla sauce ($22).
It was artfully presented with the dark, faintly sweet sauce glazing the plate, the dark rose of the bird and the perfect green vegetables balanced on a very appetizingly browned potato cake.
Dessert seemed unnecessary, really, but the night felt young and so did we, and we weren't ready to depart.
As the candlelight stood out against the dark, and a waiter poured us fresh French-presse coffee from a silver pot, we prolonged the satisfaction of the moment with a crepe filled with warm juicy berries and a puff pastry tarte layered with vanilla ice cream and topped fresh pineapple that had been studded with snippets of vanilla bean and caramelized in the oven.
Chef William Merelle and his wife Maggie have created a small wonder that is likely to earn a large following. His training in France and experience in such kitchens as Raoul's in Soho and Wheatleigh, John Andrews and Union Bar & Grille in the Berkshires are evident in the confident flair of his food and presentations. His wife says he enjoys playing with the menu, changing things, working with local products whenever possible.
He already has plans to adjust his menu with such additions as tuna tartare with shallot, cilantro, cucumber and mâche; salmon encrusted in pistachio and plantain and served with morels and grilled zucchini; and rack of lamb with crispy polenta and ratatouille.
Maggie Merelle brings to the enterprise both expertise as a wine purveyor and hospitable management of the dining rooms.
She also has an infectious enthusiasm. When I asked how they chose the name, she replied with an ardent twinkle: "Rouge! C'est le couleur d'amour." ("Red: It's the color of love.")
Rouge, 3 Center St., West Stockbridge, MA 01266. Tel. (413) 232-0111
Style: French Bistro and bar.
Dress: Stylish casual.
Prices: Starters: $5 to $14.50; Entrees: $19 to $22; Desserts: $6 or $8.
Hours: Wednesday through Sunday: Dinner: 5 to 10, Bar: 4 to 11:30.
Credit Cards: Visa and Mastercard.
Bar: Full bar; French wine list.
Accessible: Bathroom, yes; ramping planned.
Smoking: Non, merci, except perhaps on the balcony.
Reservations: Only for parties of six or more.
Aug. 28, 2002
