After a several week long dining spree I am craving something simple, no overblown pretensions or superfluous
flourishes. So it may seem odd that I opt for a French restaurant, but I have
walked past A Nos Amours so many times, gazed longingly into the minimal rustic
interior and wondered what it would be like to while away an evening in this
corner-located restaurant. It’s not listed in any of the guide books but gets very
positive ratings and write-ups on Guia Óleo (the Argentine Tripadvisor-style
restaurant website) so we are here to investigate.
When we walk in we are all immediately content with the air and
style of the place. It is often hard to put your finger on what makes a place
pleasing to be in, but A Nos Amours have managed it. Vast windows house the eight
or so tables, chic music plays and a doorway allows a peek into the kitchen
where the chef is visible, a vast mass of dreadlocks piled on top of his head turban style. A book has been casually placed on each table. We have a book about Jean Renoir, the French director, but being high-brow diners we are more interested in leafing through ‘Footballers
Haircuts’, perched on the table behind us, a small photo book of
the aforementioned haircuts, featuring mostly English players from the 80s.
A sizeable chalk board adorns the main wall scrawled with the ample and
almost-illegible wine list. A second smaller chalk board is presented to us by a
trendy lean wild-haired French man with the day’s menu. Three starters, four
main courses. Take it or leave it. I am already in love with this place for not
burdening me with copious choices. We skip starters and choose gnocchi and
risotto, two of each, dishes I generally avoid in restaurants because I see them as easy to
make at home, but I am erring towards vegetarianism tonight and the remaining two options are meat and fish.
The gnocchi is home-made, light and yielding a far cry from the standard heavy
stodgy kind and is accompanied by a tomato sauce
with courgette, mushrooms and carrots. The carrots are a little incongruous
with the rest, but it tastes good nonetheless. Risotto is silken
smooth with sautéed leeks, delicious unidentified herbs and a generous quantity
of cream.
The wild-haired waiter takes
away our empty plates and we consider dessert probabilities. Based on how
delicious the mains were we are edging towards sharing at least one between the
four of us. Expecting to see another, perhaps even smaller, chalk board materialise we continue sipping
our Chardonnay, but we are barely acknowledged, the waiter a little too nonchalant. We begin to wonder disbelievingly whether there are in fact no desserts (we later see there are) and as the time edges towards midnight we conclude that we are tired and beyond dessert
cravings. We do the international sign language gesture for la cuenta and make our exit once we have paid our dues.
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