Review: Newly Opened French Restaurant La Ville Lumière Could Use Some Seasoning

La Ville Lumière opened in the former Clifton Martini & Wine Bar spot Credit: Douglas Trattner

Despite some ebbs and flows, French bistros and brasseries never seem to go out of fashion. For eons, diners have been smitten by the elegant but relaxed atmosphere, the refined but approachable classics, and the professional yet unhurried service. The best places make it look effortless, fostering a celebratory vibe that goes well beyond the plate.

On paper, La Ville Lumière exhibits many of the hallmarks of the category. All the classic – if clichéd – brasserie dishes are here: oysters on the half, steak tartare, escargots, croque madame, duck confit, steak frites… In practice, however, the experience comes up a little short. Many dishes are delightful, while others miss the mark. Standing in contradiction to the white tablecloths and crystal stemware is a level of service that could use some polish.

Our meal for four began with a bang. We kicked off with flutes of sparkling wine ($10), bracing martinis ($15) and a warm, crunchy baguette ($16) served with plush folds of ham, ripe, stinky cheese and plenty of soft butter. We attempted to gild the lily with an order of gougères but were informed that the menu item had been permanently 86’d.

In no rush to move on from the grazing phase, we tossed in an order for a “butcher’s board” ($28), which established a precedent for the rest of the meal. Arranged atop a heavy stone slab that made passing a chore was an array of treats that included sliced salumi, earthy pistachio-studded terrine and golden-brown and crisp croquettes. Unlike the supple ham earlier, the hard salami was sliced too thickly, leaving it rawhide-tough.

A lackluster sauce doomed an order of escargot ($18). In place of the characteristically sinful parsley-laced garlic butter – the only reason we eat snails! – was a dull and thin broth containing a few slivers of garlic. When the mood struck to order a dozen oysters ($39), our server was unable to state the variety without a quick trek to the kitchen.

Had my wife’s French onion soup ($14) been delivered with a ladle and additional bowls, I’d have called it a tureen. Served in a two-handled, hat-sized copper pot, the portion literally could have served our entire table – if soup was an item that uncoupled people shared. Despite being some of the best French onion soup around, the majority of it went uneaten.

The portion size of the soup and pretty much every course that followed was a topic of conversation at the table. Words like “inelegant,” “overwrought” and “excessive” all were bandied about. When it comes to indulgent, high-fat foods, big usually is not better. (The reason the French don’t drop like flies is because they eat like birds!)

Hunter’s chicken ($24), presented in a hubcap-size skillet, features a juicy airline chicken breast perched high atop a mountain of mashed potatoes. The chicken, potatoes and roasted veggies are bathed in a silky, enriched sauce. All the lovely “cherry glace de canard” in France couldn’t manage to rescue a woefully overcooked and dry duck breast ($36). Instead, we pointed our forks in the direction of the creamy risotto below that was loaded with golden oyster mushrooms.

In the “no-complaints” department is a vegetarian-friendly cacio e pepe-style linguini ($21) and a solid steak frites ($32). Ours was an expertly grilled and sliced 8-ounce strip steak sided by a mound of crispy standard-cut fries and choice of sauce. Bearnaise, naturally. Other cuts of beef, including a filet and long-bone ribeye, are available as well.

In addition to daily lunch and Saturday brunch, La Ville Lumière serves the full menu to any diner who sits down before midnight, a feature that deserves praise and attention. We didn’t take our seats until 8:30, and apart from drinks and snacks, didn’t even bother looking at the menu for close to an hour. And yet we felt rushed by our server, who stopped by to take our dinner order with the steady frequency of a metronome. At meal’s end, our server failed to alert us to a 4-percent credit card fee (not that anyone walks around with enough cash to do anything about it) while simultaneously charging us for an extra martini.

Until Clifton Martini & Wine Bar came along in 2010, 10427 Clifton Boulevard was best described as a restaurant-killer, laying waste to six separate concepts in about 15 years. Earlier this year chef Kevin O’Connell, who some might know from Cleveland Sandwich Co., set about converting the space into a Midwest version of French bistro. At present, that bistro could use a bit of refinement.

La Ville Lumière
10427 Clifton Blvd., Cleveland
216-331-5113
lvlcle.com

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