Le Pain Quotidien: Je t'adore

Oh Le Pain Quotidien, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

Even though you are chain, you manage to make the experience in your bakeries unique, thanks to 1) your quaint, farm-housey atmosphere, 2) your creative, high-quality food, and 3) your commitment to organic products, sustainable farming, and recycled goods.

One of the many reasons I (and many others) moved to New York was to escape the corporate sprawl and live in a place where there are still businesses owned and operated by individuals, where meals don’t feel factory-produced and stores aren’t maintained by robots programmed at headquarters. And it certainly isn’t difficult to find lots of thriving independent businesses here on the Upper East.

But let’s face it, this is the way of the world, and there are a few good chains. Le Pain Quotidien, or LPQ, as I have affectionately come to think of it, is one of these. It was first opened in Brussels in the late 80’s by chef Alain Coumont. He is quoted as explaining that, “The idea behind ‘Le Pain Quotidien’ is simply to make a handmade bread with a good crust and a firm slice, the kind of bread that makes great tartines; bread not only to nourish the body, but the spirit as well; a bread best shared around a table, to be savored among friends.”

Now, there are LPQ’s all over the world, in places as far-flung as Australia, Russia, Qatar and Istanbul. In a addition to several U.S. locations in California and the Washington D.C. area, there are over 15 locations in New York City, four of which are fortunately right here on the Upper East Side: 1st at 68th, Lexington at 64th, 77th at 2nd Avenue and Madison at 84th. I have now been to three of these and often frequent the ones on 77th and the one on 1st. (This latter store, spacious and beautiful, is a few blocks south of a previous location, which, to my horror, was bulldozed a few years ago to make way for another luxury condo.)

One of the first things you’ll notice when you walk into an LPQ is an extra-long, wooden communal table. These are composed of refurbished wood from old trains. Though there are also separate tables, this is really the heart of the experience: sidling up alongside others – whether families or individuals reading the paper – and asking them to pass the salt, or some menus (which are composed of 100% recycled paper and cleverly propped up in hunks of bread), or striking up conversations. Okay, and yes, this scenario also provides ample opportunities for eavesdropping, not that I’m into that kind of thing…but, if you meet up there with your girlfriends from college, you may want to think twice before uttering anything top secret and of international import…or just speak in code. But this is true pretty much anywhere in NY, so-called communal tables or not, right?

With these long tables, the exposed brick, the purposely battered walls, and warm track lighting, you kind of feel as if you’re in a modern farm kitchen, perhaps in Belgium or possibly Provence. Some of the locations even have fireplaces and old tractor seats as wall decorations. Since these places are usually well-peopled, there’s often a lively din of conversation and, underneath that, the pleasant notes of classical music. This is a great place to bring your mother (as I have done, a few times now), or your kids (since they can spread out at the big table), or to bring your new beau (and pretend you’re already on that long-weekend jaunt in Europe.)

This brings me to the food, much of which is organic, some of which is vegan, and all of which (that I’ve sampled, and that now adds up to a lot), is delicious. Indeed, the bread is wonderful and pairs well with the selections of spreads provided in little caddies. Usually, this includes fruit jellies, something called Noisella (a Belgian chocolate and hazelnut spread very similar to Nutella), and, if the stars are aligned the day you go, this caddy will also include a spread called Brunette, a hazelnut praline spread that is not to be believed. Waitstaffer Martina Fourcad, of the 77th Street location, laughed as she told me that, “Everybody loves this. Once you try it, you really can’t stop.” And she is right. Consider yourself warned.

The croissants are excellent. The Quiche Lorraine and the Quiche Vegetarienne (highly recommended) are ample and fluffy. These come with greens on the side. In the mornings, many can be seen dipping their triangles of bread into the brilliant yolks of organic soft-boiled eggs, but as Jenell Cruickshank, manager of the 77th street location confirmed for me, they stop serving these in the afternoon, so arrive early if you want these. The Homemade Organic Granola is hearty with a hint of coconut.

For lunch, the salads are mounded and nicely appointed. I have enjoyed both the Goat Cheese and Arugula Salad, with parmesan, pine nuts, and lemon, and also the Grilled Chicken Cobb Salad – this comes with avocado, bacon, fourme d’ambert and a vinaigrette infused with lapsang souchong tea. I haven’t tried it yet, but I’ve noted that the Quinoa Salad with Enoki mushrooms and alfalfa spouts comes out of the kitchen looking delightfully alien, the skinny mushrooms like an outcropping of antennae atop a little hill of grains.

But most people lunching at LPQ seem to order the tartines, open-faced sandwiches served on what are almost like ceramic cheeseboards or painters’ palettes, complete with the thumbhole. Though there many different kinds to choose from, I am personally smitten with the Chicken curry salad with cranberry chutney, the Atlantic smoked salmon with dill and scallions, and the Grilled chicken and smoked mozzarella with pesto. I am intrigued by many other offerings, such as the Ricotta with mission fig, honey and black pepper and the Aged guyere with three mustards.

Save room because the gorgeous desserts displayed up front do not disappoint. In fact, the round Belgian Brownie is both crispy and moist in all the right places. The chocolate chip cookie is the size of a pancake and has a good crunch to it. There are all kinds of tarts and cakes (both miniature or full-sized) to devour while there or in the privacy of your apartment.

On a related note, I must mention the lattes, which manage to be both smooth and frothy even when you order them with skim or soy, my usual tendency. And all coffees are served in handle-less cups that seem more like little bowls. So clutch your coffee in both hands, warm your fingers and your soul, and be glad these farmhouse kitchens are speckled throughout our fine neighborhood. Oh, and can you pass that hazelnut praline spread? Merci.