No. 15: Le Paradou

When Yannick Cam is good, he is fantastically good—a master craftsman capable of turning out dishes as intricate, inventive, and delicious as any in town. For his fricassee of escargot, he makes room on the broad white plate for a few chestnut gnocchi, then adds painterly dabs of garlic and parsley butter, a few arcs of black-olive sauce, and a couple of framing slicks of a purée made from roasted eggplant and prosciutto. A riot of flavors, and yet Cam finds the unity among the elements. No one is as good a colorist, as a plate of roasted squab with plum pudding, foie gras, and red cabbage proves; it also proves that a dish of uncommon richness and depth need not be heavy.

Then there is the other Cam, whose indifference can be infuriating. One meal’s roasted lobster with Sauternes and grapefruit is a sublimely sensuous experience; another’s is so ordinary it hardly seems like the same dish. The boudin blanc and an apple charlotte have been ethereal. They’ve also been earthbound.The question: Which Cam will you get?

The answer takes on urgency when you consider the prices—many appetizers are drifting toward $20 at lunch, and the wine list is a tome of exorbitantly marked-up bottles.

Still, Cam off is better than a lot of chefs on. And at a time when French cooking is dying out and customers go out to dinner in jeans, dining at Le Paradou is one of the few experiences in the city that can make you feel grand.