Georges Eric Farge charges through the loud, jam-packed room in a Gallic gallop, frantically waving his arms like a drowning man — except this frolicsome Frenchman is submerged only in adoration. He is grinning, hugging, sweating, slapping backs, and emitting a whistle with his lips that pierces the cacophony like a hot knife through foie gras. Farge's frenetic personality is familiar to anyone who, over the past 15 years, has had the pleasure of dining at Le Bouchon du Grove, where he held court as chef, owner, and dining room trouvère. He has since flitted from that bistro; his infectious Lyonnaise spirit nowadays permeates... More >>>