Looking for Amour (Bistro)

I'd be the first to admit that I could use some some amour in my life.

As a matter of fact, I could use a lot of amour after being without it for so long.

But instead of brooding on that (interesting what a lack of sleep makes you dwell on), I decided to see what the new Amour Wine Bistro in Carytown was all about.

Which leads us to the first truism of Richmond's dining scene: even in a new restaurant, you're bound to see familiar faces.

When I walked into the former Cajun Bangkok space tonight, the server greeted me enthusiastically, although I didn't immediately recognize him.

Why? Seems he's a photographer I'd met out and discussed music with extensively.

We talked about it again tonight, although we never did quite recall where we'd first met.

Leading me to the bar, he handed me off to Gerard the bartender, who immediately recognized me, too.

First he asked where I lived and then he snapped his fingers.

"Tarrants!" he nodded. "I never forget a beautiful woman."

That, or I was enough of a regular when he was serving there that I stuck out in his mind (more likely).

The owner Paul I did not know, but he engagingly introduced himself in his French-accented voice and shook my hand.

I tried to compliment his restaurant's interior, but he shrugged it off as giving the place a good cleaning and improving the lighting, at the same time acknowledging that he'd been planning it in his head for four years.

It was when he began explaining the wine list that his full Alsatian passion began to show itself.

The list is almost entirely Alsatian and offered in full and half glasses as well as two and three-glass flights of half glasses.

I opted for the Pinot Blanc flight which included Sparr Dia Reserve and Trimbach, thinking them the perfect choices for a hot day.

To accompany my whites, I ordered the mushroom and leek galette and the tartelette flambee, two crust-based offerings.

Paul said that the tartelette was a customary way to use up the leftover bits of food in an Alsatian house at the end of a bread making session.

Whatever was around went on the leftover scraps of dough, rolled out into thin rounds; in this case it was a milk product somewhere between sour cream and cottage cheese, caramelized onions and bacon.

Simple and satisfying, it was easy to see the appeal of the dish on many levels.

The gallette's crust was a much thicker, doughier version with the mushrooms and leeks baked deep inside of it.

I would recommend either, which I did when nearby barsitters admired them and asked what they were.

The barsitting couple were just back from Italy and shared details of their trip with me and the staff before we started discussing favorite local restaurants.

They were having a difficult time adjusting to eating and drinking here after the relaxed and leisurely pace of Italy.

Paul jumped in to say that, as a Frenchman who's only been in this country for ten years, he too encourages that slower pace in his restaurant.

"I don't want to turn the tables five times," he said. "I want people to relax and enjoy."

Whether it was the Pinot Blanc or my abbreviated night before, I was already well into relaxation mode.

 Amour Bistro had succeeded beautifully.

 All I really need now is that other elusive amour.