Scoring a meal at La Cachette takes luck, timing and forethought. Luck, to find the minuscule cottage restaurant on the landward side of Gulf Boulevard (it's a block south of Indian Rocks Causeway, but the neat blue sign is hidden by a tree branch). Timing, because the Jacksons, the couple who own and operate the place, open only on evenings with enough reservations to make it worth their while (if you show up without a reservation, even if the place is open, expect to be turned away at the door). And forethought, because you'll need to bring your own bottle and enough cash for the prix fixe menu. La Cachette's fabulous, homey French cuisine is fairly priced, but they don't take American Express. Or Visa, Discover, Diner's Club or personal checks. The cozy interior of the restaurant calls to mind a country cottage with wood paneling and china antiques, and golden light spills from the lamps positioned on every table. During my visit, a thunderstorm raged outside, but aside from the occasional crash or violet flash of light, all remained soft and warm within. Beyond the doors lie rental properties, blazing white beaches, and pelicans, but there is nothing Floridian about La Cachette. Tables are set up in advance according to the number of reservations, so the arrangement of the dining room changes from night to night. Each table is set with a dish of crudités, including yummy homemade pickles.
Diners order their entire meal ($37) — appetizers, entrees and desserts — at the beginning of the evening. Though the menu is subject to some change depending on the day's ingredients, Chef Martin Jackson has favorites, and there are a good half-dozen options per course. The first course features options ranging from onion soup and escargots to salads with chevre de fromage. In my salad, the little fried rounds of goat cheese topped field greens, salt-grilled almonds, decadently sweet fresh figs and a tart, fruity vinaigrette. My companion's appetizer featured a slice of warm, creamy brie and a brandy-poached pear. Though she found the pear's bite a bit too tart for her taste, I enjoyed the way the fruit contrasted with the mild, slightly salty cheese.
But if our first course set the stage, the second was a showstopper. My dish of tender roasted capon was stuffed with spinach-wrapped grape tomatoes and drizzled with a Grand Marnier sauce. Alongside the dish was a familiar but well-done accompaniment of steamed vegetables, cauliflower with hollandaise sauce and mashed potatoes. Though delicious in its own way, my entrée paled in comparison to the mastery presented in my dining companion's order of pork en croute flamande. The perfectly roasted pork tenderloin was stuffed with sweet dried fruits and red cabbage, combined with an evergreen whisper of juniper berries and baked in a fluffy pastry. Though it's difficult to choose favorites among the entrees (the tarragon-infused quail under brick is another excellent option), I think the pork won out for me.
Dessert is in keeping with the rest of the meal. Aside from the usual array of desserts, La Cachette offers a variety of personal soufflés for a $10 surcharge. Served in little casserole dishes, the airy desserts came with a cordial glass of flavored liqueur. Beulah Jackson pierces the soufflé at your table and pours flavoring of choice (chocolate cherry) into the warm, fragrant hollow of the pouf. Ten bucks might sound a bit steep for a soufflé, and when the dessert melts away in your mouth like the proverbial cloud, you could conceivably argue that it wasn't enough — but only because you already long for more. (There's a legend that in the decadent Court of Louis the XIV, a chef committed suicide when his soufflé fell. And though the story illustrates the quintessentially French obsession with food, after sampling the soufflés at La Cachette one can understand the man's disappointment.)
The other desserts at the restaurant don't slouch. I was especially pleased with the butter tart, a crumbly, butter-flavored crust with a heavily caramelized filling topped by a scoop of Haagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream (I point this out as one of the few items on the menu not made by the Jacksons). The ultra-sweet pastry had a hint of maple beneath its unerring sweetness, and Beulah Jackson informed us that the recipe came from her Canadian family.
La Cachette's BYOB policy is unusual around here, but it's a rule I believe more small restaurants should follow. My wine-conscious friends adore tiny bistros, but are usually disappointed in the insufficient wine lists such establishments can support. This restaurant was actually brought to my attention by a wine-loving friend, who appreciates that he can dip into his cellar and avoid the monstrous price hikes most restaurants charge for wine. Bringing your own wine not only makes the experience more affordable, it also increases the spell of comfortable intimacy already cast by the restaurant. La Cachette de la Plage means "hideaway on the beach," and for the lucky few who have discovered its unorthodox charms, it's a very pleasant one indeed.
Freelance writer Diana Peterfreund dines anonymously and the Planet pays for her meals. She may be contacted at diana.peterfreund@weeklyplanet.com. Restaurants are chosen for review at the discretion of the writer, and are not related to advertising.
This article appears in Sep 1-7, 2004.