A Tale of Three Cities

Head over to Bertin Bistro and Restaurant for a love story of food - INSPIRED BY THREE LOCATIONS - like you've never heard it before

I've always loved a good story. It might have had something to do with how I eventually ended up in the business of telling good stories, but the point is, even more than telling them, I've enjoyed listening to them. Discovering them. And Bertin Bistro and Restaurant - a two-story outfit out in Al Manara, Sheikh Zayed Road - has a lovely, heart-warming backstory that I haven't encountered at other F&B offerings around town to date.
The place is named eponymously after its French creator Bertin (pronounced 'berta'), who was born to "a long line of master chefs and bakers", and who first started helping his grandfather out at the local boulangerie (that is, bakery) in Alsace, France, at the age of 15.

The story goes that, one day, when an 18-year-old Bertin was baking as usual, a woman walked into his shop - who would change his life forever. Mesmerised by her beauty, Bertin had eyes only for her; she, however, had eyes only for his Pain Perdu (a fried, sweet dish made of bread and beaten eggs), sitting in the counter display. Selena (that was her name) adored the dish so much that she came back for it every day for a month - and then stopped.
I'm going to stop too because I don't want to give away everything here, but the entire tale of his romantic and culinary pursuits - how he finds her, moves countries for her, loses her, starts his own place, etc - has been wonderfully illustrated across the restaurant walls (see facing page). Clearly, it's all about the details here.
Three clocks stand to one side, set to Strasbourg, Marbella and Tangier times - which were also the three cities that shaped Bertin's life story (and, therefore, his recipes). 'Vintage' photos are hung everywhere, lending credibility to the tale - Bertin with his sisters, at his first bakery, with the best friend that married Selena.
(The restaurant has quite a nice façade too, by the way - which we almost completely missed, thanks to Google Maps. The web mapping service strangely had us roaring straight towards the shadier, poorly-lit rear parking. So instead of sweeping in through the front, we were reduced to slinking around from the back. Not cool.)
Anyway, as mentioned earlier, the restaurant is double-storied. The ground floor is done up French bistro-style, while the upper level offers Spanish-Andalusian food. Guests who aren't keen on inhaling shisha smoke along with their food upstairs can enjoy the same meals downstairs, as both levels are serviced by a single kitchen.
We were well taken care of by the very efficient restaurant manager, Julia, whose meal recommendations turned out to be excellent. For starters, we went with the traditional Flammekueche, an Alsatian oven-baked dish, composed of bread dough rolled out very thin and topped with your choice of cream cheese, onions, meat, mushrooms, tomatoes, etc. It's basically a very thin, very delicious pizza (only the chef doesn't like calling it that) - and has the wonderfully smoked taste that comes with being baked in an oven.
We sampled the Lentil Dip from upstairs, while we waited for our mains: a cold tapas dish of black lentils and pomegranate from Morocco, it was a great accompaniment to the fresh bread we were served - but gorge on it with caution; it can get a tad too tangy, if you have too much.
This was soon followed by Portobello Sliders for my partner and the Spinach & Ricotta Lasagne for me. The sliders consisted of prime beef burger cooked over charcoal, served in - wait for it - Portobello buns. That's right. They weren't actually bread-based or burger buns, yet the large Portobello mushrooms served the purpose well. At about 120 calories, they're a much healthier option too.
Our only gripe was that the meat was cooked more medium than well-done. Apparently, this is how most of the restaurant's Arab customers prefer it; so, if you're opting for the sliders, we suggest sending back specific instructions if you too like your meat well done!
The lasagne, however, was the true star. I've had some unpleasant experiences with this Italian classic in the past, so I was a little wary when Julia insisted. One bite was enough to blow any biases out of the water though. Served gratinated with Parmesan cream, it melts in your mouth, and is surprisingly rich on the tongue and light on the tummy at once.
We wrapped up the evening with the famous Pain Perdu with orangette (caramelised orange peel) and caramel fleur de sel, plus freshly baked Apple Tart with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce. The Pain Perdu lived up to every bit of its legendary tale; it's a bit messy, but it's so good, the mess is a forgivable offence. The tart was the perfect combination of light, warm and fluffy pastry and chilled ice cream.
We sat there, talking for hours later: relaxed, sated and warm. It was a mark of how nourishing the food was that when we reached home at 2am in the morning, having spent the last couple of hours wrestling with a car breakdown on the way back, we were still perfectly cheerful and raring to go. I think Bertin would've liked that part of our story.

karen@khaleejtimes.com

• Food and Dining