Some great Gascon discoveries

Last week I spent a couple of days in the Gers region in the south-west of France researching a piece on foie gras (for which you’ll have to wait a couple of months, I’m afraid, until it’s published in Decanter). But I made some other interesting discoveries.

First, it’s a beautiful part of the world. Once you’re past Auch (we were driving up from the Languedoc) it opens up into gloriously pretty countryside with rich, fertile fields and rolling hills. On a clear day, which we were lucky enough to experience along with two striking sunsets, you can see the Pyrenees on the horizon.

This is duck country (hence the foie gras), armagnac country and Tannat country. Its most prestigious appellations are the Tannat-based Madiran (picked out by Roger Cordet, author of The Wine Diet as being particularly high in polyphenols) and the obscurely named Pacherenc du Vic Bilh which like Jurancon is made from Gros and Petit Manseng (among other obscure grapes) and comes in dry and sweet versions. Conveniently Madiran is the perfect match for confit and Pacherenc for foie gras, two perfect terroir-based pairings (assuming, of course, that you eat foie gras)

Chateau Laffitte-Teston

We visited two wine producers at Maumusson: one on the recommendation of Vincent Labeyrie of Club Gascon - Chateau Laffitte-Teston - and the more famous Chateau Bouscass whose winemaker Alain Brumont put Madiran on the map. We thought the reds of this other Laffitte (which has two Fs and two Ts) remarkably good value, especially the 2005 Vielles Vignes which was rich, dark and damsony with that refreshingly bitter, tannic twist at the finish that makes Madiran such a good match with duck. It was an incredibly reasonable 9.35 euros a bottle from the cellar door.

We also bought some of their lighter, more fragrant Reflet du Terroir which was only 6.80 euros.At Bouscass we tasted our way through a couple of vintages of Bouscass and Montus, ending up with a few bottles of Chateau Bouscass Vieilles Vignes 2000 at 17.50 euros. I thought it was tasting wonderfully supple and sensual but Brumont’s daughter, who was dealing with visitors to the winery that afternoon, reckoned it still had a couple of years to go to reach its peak. (Bouscass is a blend of Tannat, Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc with a tiny amount of Petit Courbu and Petit Manseng)

We also bought a few bottles of their least expensive sweet wine - the glorious jasmine and apricot-scented Vendemiaire 2000 (just 8.40 euros) which we discovered was another great match for a galette des rois.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time to go to Chateau Viella whose younger, even more floral and fruity 2005 Pacherenc we had tried and enjoyed at the foie gras producer. But it’s not far away - you could easily take that in too.The following morning we’d lined up a crash course in armagnac at Chateau de Laubade at Sorbets where we toured the distillery and tasted armagnacs going back to 1937. It’s a particularity of armagnac that the better bottles are released as single vintages rather than being blendied from components from several different years. (More about this later this week.)

My favourite was the ‘57, of which thre are unfortunately no bottles left but look out for the opulent vanilla-rich ‘75 if you get the chance. In the UK Laubade is imported by Berkmann and Eaux-de-Vie but you'll obviously get a better choice if you buy from the distillery which will also give you a chance to see the impressive 105 ha estate which has been carefully farmed according to the principles of lutte raisonne (the use of chemicals only when necessary) since the mid 70s. There’s a large flock of sheep which were picturesquely driven up the hill as if to order by the resident shepherd.

So there’s plenty for the food- and wine-lover do in Gascony but where to eat and stay? That’s more of a problem at this time of year when many hotels are closed and some restaurants only open at lunchtime. We were thus thwarted in our plan to visit the splendidly named Hotel de Bastard which apparently has an armagnac menu and ended up instead outside the Gers in a town called Grenade sur l’Adour (in another oddly named hotel called Pain Adour et Fantasie. The Adour is the river that runs through the heart of south west France and which has inspired Alain Ducasse’s latest restaurant at the St Regis in New York which opens later this month.)

The Pain Adour et Fantasie is particularly well situated with bedrooms and a terrace that overlooks the river and would be lovely, we thought, in summer. The rooms are also unusually reasonable and the food ambitious - the restaurant has a Michelin star. I’m not sure that the French obsession with sucr-sal (sweet and savoury flavours on the same plate) is entirely what’s wanted in this part of the world but two of the dishes including an unctuous winter soup of Jerusalem artichoke, turnip and celeriac. with deep fried snails stuffed with mint (a brilliant idea - much better than parsley) and fillet of venison with liquorice and a beetroot ravioli were terrific. And you may be relieved after a couple of days in the Gers to discover a confit-free zone . . .

My first encounter with Alain Ducasse

Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester in a nutshell:

• Food: Great cooking in the literal sense of the word in unfashionably generous helpings. Don’t miss the chicken in Albufera sauce (a Ducasse signature dish) the innovative cheese plate or the dazzling desserts.
• Wine: A lavish and eye-wateringly expensive list
• Style/Decor: Spectacular. The walls facing the windows are studded with green silk covered buttons to reflect the trees in Hyde Park opposite. The Table Lumire in the centre, surrounded by its glittering fibre optic curtain, is admittedly a touch naff but get the sommelier to show you the gorgeous cellar.
• Service: Impossible to fault
• Who to go with: A sugar daddy, a commodity trader who’s just got his bonus (though there is a £35 set lunch)
• Who not to go with: Someone who doesn’t like dressing up
• Verdict: Three star Michelin cooking on a grand scale. Incontournable (unmissable), as the French say.

I reluctantly accepted an invitation to eat at Alain Ducasse’s new restaurant at the Dorchester last week. I don’t particularly like the trend among top chefs to build global empires and after mixed reviews I expected the food to be bland and overpriced. I also expected not to like the man himself. Judging by the photos I’d seen, he looked a pretty tough nut, more a hard-boiled businessman than a chef. Well, I’m happy to say I was wrong on both counts.

Ducasse is what London has been looking for for a while, a grand restaurant that has the potential to get three stars. Not that the intensely media-savvy Ducasse says that is what he’s after. “It is the customers who give stars. Let Michelin do what it does. I will do what I do.” he told me.

He must be doing something right for last week, regardless of his dismissal of Michelin, he picked up 3 more stars in Las Vegas and Tokyo, bringing his tally to 15, second only to Joel Rebuchon. He has 25 restaurants worldwide and seems not content with that. He’s planning to open three more - another in the Eiffel Tower in Paris, two in New York early next year.

Why go on? He surely can’t need the money. “Because of what I am going to discover the following day” he says enigmatically. It figures. He's clearly fascinated by new ingredients, a relentless perfectionsit. In the kitchen of the Dorchester he is hyperactive, barking out instructions to his staff, summoning dishes, encouraging us to taste. “Go on, go on. Eat!”

A dish of plump, sweet Scottish langoustines in a surprisingly rustic leek broth arrives tasting like a fishy cock-a-leekie. A sommelier brings a glass of Puligny Montrachet (a 2004 from Nicolas Potel) which he pronounces too cold. The dish needs more sauce, says Ducasse. Next a poached egg with crayfish and wild mushrooms is presented for his inspectation with a sauce like a super-concentrated fish soup. A bold, generous dish, spilling with flavour it passes muster. “Il faut manger! You must eat up” Ducasse exclaims, encouraging us like small children to clear our plates.

So what does he think of London? Surely we should already have more top restaurants? “Well, you won the rugby (alluding to England’s recent victory over France), you can’t have everything” says Ducasse, betraying an unexpected flash of humour. “You can’t have the greatest diversity of restaurants, the best design, the most dynamic dining scene . . . and the most Michelin-starred restaurants. But whole issue of stars is a false debate. What you want is happy clients.”

Back out in the dining room we are treated to the whole Ducasse experience. Waiters hover around us, delivering plates. Small baskets of warm gougres, tiny deep fried pumpkin ravioli. a plate of crudits cut from heirloom vegetables served with an anchovy dip and whipped cheese. The bread which includes Scottish style baps and wheatmeal rolls is exemplary. Ducasse’s team have done their homework.

My first course of scallops with vegetables and jelly, unexpectedly served at cool room temperature, works well with a creamy Josmeyer ‘H’ Pinot Auxerrois 2004 but I would probably have gone for something a little crisper, given the accompanying light, herby jelly and the wasabi dressing. A chestnut soup with foie gras and small chunks of soft sweet chestnut is sublime. We get an extra taster of poached foie gras served with mango spring rolls. The Pinot Auxerrois is better with this.

My main course, chicken with an ‘Albufera’ sauce, made from foie gras, brandy and white port is utter heaven. It goes perfectly with a superbly supple Garaudet Volnay, the Les Roncerets 2000. I wonder what it would taste like with ‘Yquem. I get a forkful of meltingly tender venison from my neighbour at the table and wish I could have had that too.

We were going to pass on cheese but are urged to try the cheese course - four different cheeses with accompanying relishes - Valencay goats cheese with sweet pepper, Montgomery cheddar with poached grapes and muscat wine jelly, a 3 year old Vieux Comt with a hazelnut and vin jaune paste and a Stilton with Mostarda di Crema. No trundling cheese trolleys for Ducasse - this must be the way forward with cheese. We could have done with another wine at this point, not that the choice would have been easy. An Amarone maybe.

A delicious Domaine de Souch Jurancon Cuvée Marie Kattalin 2004 struggles manfully with a battery of desserts - a riot of chocolate and raspberries, a ‘coco-caramel delight’ (a reinterpretation of crme caramel accompanied by a lime sorbet) and a spectacular rum baba offered with a choice of two rums to pour over it. (Ducasse clearly likes the theatre of pouring at table). There’s even a palate-cleansing post-dessert of pink grapefruit macerated (I think) in grenadine topped with another ethereally light sorbet followed by many other sweet-toothed offerings on trolleys but I’m simply too full. The clever thing about the meal is that it builds towards a crescendo, like a firework display, rather than tailing off.

It’s rare these days to feel so completely satisfied with an experience. Almost nothing disappoints with the possible exception of the sonorous spa-style music, the super-abundance of pink (the plates, the water glasses, the sommelier’s ties) and the rather silly Table Lumire in the centre which is surrounded by a shimmering white floor to ceiling curtain that designer Patrick Jouin compares to ‘walking into a cloud’. Perfect for Posh and the other WAGS*

* the term coined for footballers’ wives and girlfriends

Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester, Park Lane, London W1K 1QA
Tel: +44 (0)20 7629 8866
www.alainducasse-dorchester.com

 

The best 'French' restaurant in Britain

Yesterday we went to one of my all-time favourite restaurants Le Champignon Sauvage in Cheltenham. It bills itself as a ‘restaurant Francais’ which might lead one to believe, given the modesty of its surroundings, that it serves simple bistro food. In fact it is French only in the sense of the total dedication of its chef/proprietor David Everitt-Matthias to the pursuit of three Michelin stars.

It already has two which given its size and sheer lack of flashiness is a remarkable achievement. Everitt-Matthias believes that Michelin is more exacting about restaurants in England than they are in France and I think he’s probably right. On its day, and yesterday was one of them, he cooks as well as any chef in Britain and arguably better than many who have that accolade in France.

His food is not for the faint-hearted. An ‘amuse’ of pumpkin mousse was served with pan-fried brains (delicious, I have to admit) and brown bread foam. (I think chefs overdo the foam thing but he uses it judiciously.) Scallops came boldly partnered with both Jerusalem and globe artichokes, flavoured with liquorice, a umami-rich dish lightened by a fresh crunch of shredded apple and peashoots.

Seared squid was paired with belly of Gloucester Old Spot Pork, served with a mousseline of hazelnut and potato and well roasted hazelnuts. (Everitt-Mathias loves surf and turf - later in this extraordinary tasting menu we had sea bream with a ‘tomato and trotter compote’ with cauliflower pure, caramelised cauliflower and Campion, I think he said. He also loves wild hedgerow plants. A very rare but perfectly tender pigeon (squab) was served with Fat Hen puree, and, surprisingly for this time of year, white asparagus.

His desserts too are strikingly original. We tasted three, I’m ashamed to say: a rose geranium cream topped with a layer of Turkish delight and orchid root foam (a plant he’d discovered on holiday in Turkey this summer), a muscovado parfait with bergamot cream , hazelnut craquant (tuiles) and orange jelly and a bitter chocolate and olive tart with fennel ice cream, all extraordinarily good.

What on earth do you drink with such food? Well, what you don’t want is a competing focus of attention so we kept it simple with half a bottle of 2004 Albert Mann Pinot Blanc, which dealt exceptionally well with the scallops, squid and another wine-challenging dish of cannelloni of kid with goats milk curd and land cress pure and a half of modest cru bourgeois Haut-Mdoc, Chateau Caronne-St-Gemme 1999 which coped unexpectedly well with the richly sauced pigeon. I would have liked to have been offered something interesting by the glass with our desserts, the only minor criticism I can drum up of what was in every other respect a faultless meal. Their prices are also more than reasonable - if you're not in the mood to splash out you can eat off the fixed price lunch menu for £23 (£28 for 3 courses). Their house wine costs just £11 a bottle.

If you’re not UK based, Cheltenham is a charming town about 2 hours from London with some very beautiful Regency houses - not quite as striking as Bath but not far off it. It is, as Michelin puts it, well worth the detour. And if the Champignon Sauvage doesn’t end up with a third Michelin star one of these days I’ll eat my hat.

PS: A world of warning. Don’t be late or turn up without booking. Everitt-Matthias is famously intolerant of lack of punctuality or casual diners. If you want a tasting menu, as we had, request it in advance.

Fine dining in Colmar

Stuart Walton checks out the restaurant scene in Colmar.

The medieval town of Colmar in France’s Alsace is quite a gem. The cobbled streets of the old part of town are lined with the kinds of beamed buildings where you half-expect to come across aproned craftspeople still hand-carving wooden toys. In 884 AD, Charles the Fat came here for a Diet, as well he might have, except that it was the parliamentary kind, rather than anything to do with the weight reduction regimen he so clearly sorely needed.

These days, the town is much more about boutique hotels and luxury goods. There are delicatessen windows piled high with tins of foie gras, but it is still possible to sit within a cork’s throw of the canal (Colmar is one of around three thousand northern European towns with a district laying claim to the title of Little Venice, or rather Petite Venise), and drink a glass of Crmant while you decide what you’d like to eat.

Colmar’s two best culinary shots are not very far from each other, and represent what one might conceive as the twin poles of the modern French approach to upmarket dining.

Rendez-Vous de Chasse is the restaurant of the Grand Hotel Bristol, which sits majestically opposite the little railway station with its Toytown clock tower. It is an elegant dining-room in the grand style, all deep green velour and varnished wood pillars, and the kind of exquisitely formal service that persuades you it means business (in the most amiable manner possible, of course).

In Michaela Peters, the restaurant has a beguilingly confident chef – ‘une femme,’ pointed out the vineyard proprietor with whom I was dining, with that mixture of bemusement and twinkle that says at once ‘Whatever next?’ and ‘Go girl!’ The confidence is evident from the moment the first nibbles appear. A prawn beignet, a sliver of zander en escabche and creamed carrot served in the ubiquitous shot-glass were all spot-on.

I liked the gentle simplicity of a pasta dish that piled girolles and spring-fresh peas on an open raviolo, saucing it with a creamed cuisson made from the stock the main elements had been cooked in. Arctic char wouldn’t normally feature near the top of my list of Most Favoured Fish but, cooked on a plancha and adorned with a bouquet of seasonal vegetables, its firm-fleshed succulence was powerfully convincing. Alongside it, almost extraneously, sat a couple of tempura-battered frog legs with a rather clunky sour cream and chive dip. A Bernhard & Reibel Rittersberg Riesling 2004 ably matched the freshness of the fish.

An anatomised pigeon formed the centrepiece of the main course, the breast meat cubed and skewered on a brochette, the leg served separately (with its clawed foot still attached), the whole offset with some flavourful braised lettuce and slices of beautifully rendered caramelised lemon. The sweetcorn galette that completed the assemblage didn’t quite work for me, being rather dry and underseasoned, but this was one of those dishes overall that did enormous favours to a gentle, and ultimately rather simple, Pinot Noir.

Dessert was a properly made pannacotta, served with pain de gnes (like a lump of genoise sponge) and an intensely flavoured and vividly coloured red fruit sorbet, an appealingly light way to finish.

JY’s, on the other hand, is a breathlessly modern venue in the Petite Venise district, a veritable fun palace of culinary experimentation that ticks off all the reference points, from the glassed-in, ground-floor kitchen where you can watch the boys at work while you sit at the bar with a Crmant, to the chef who bears such an uncanny resemblance to a ginger-hued Gordon Ramsay that he has grown into the role with gusto, touring the tables towards the end of the evening, dispensing expletives of encouragement to the clientele.

This will be JY then, Jean-Yves Schillinger, the big noise in culinary Colmar. He told us he had recently visited Ramsay’s Maze restaurant in London’s Grosvenor Square, and had caused an initial gratifying flurry of alarm among the staff. ‘Eeek, it’s the boss! Oh hang on, no it isn’t.’

Dinner began, classically enough, with two slices of immaculate terrine de foie gras, one adorned with apple and ginger chutney, the other with a blob of caramelised fig run through the centre of it and a scattering of crushed popcorn alongside it. The international trend for elevating the junk-food of childhood into the haute cuisine context runs strong here too, and – to my mind – quite as tiresomely.

Monkfish tail of forthright flavour and precision timing followed, accompanied by delicately constructed green tea gnocchi, the whole sitting in a white foam bath of smoked milk. This worked well, and was especially well served by an accompanying glass of a richly mature 2001 Pinot Gris from Hugel.

The main course was a surprisingly restrained rendition of selle d’agneau with a marsala sauce, like something from a notably upmarket trattoria. JY is shrewd enough to know that a certain customer base will appreciate a level of experimentation in peripheral dishes, but rather like to be reassured at main-course stage, and the meat dishes in particular avoid undue startlement.

I passed on the blue candyfloss sticks, and indeed the petits fours of marshmallows in three colours (raspberry, mint and banana), having long since abandoned my tenth birthday to the mists of memory, but in between the juvenilia was a pretty impressive dessert of verveine parfait with a sorbet of strawberry and basil.

Rendez-Vous de Chasse, Grand Htel Bristol, 7 place de la Gare (tel: 3 89 23 15 86)
JY’s, 17 rue de la Poissonnerie (tel: 3 89 21 53 60).

Stuart Walton is a long-serving food and wine writer, a contributor to the Good Food Guide, and author of The Right Food with the Right Wine.