Restaurant reviews | La Chassagnette: so pretty but more misses than hits

Restaurant reviews

La Chassagnette: so pretty but more misses than hits

Given that I plastered photographs of La Chassagnette all over my instagram feed the other day you might think a review was superfluous but the truth is that pretty plates do not necessarily a great restaurant make.

A bit of history. We first went to La Chassagnette 10 years ago when we started visiting nearby Arles for the annual photographic exhibition. (Quick parental plug: Our youngest son is a photographer.) We were absolutely dazzled by it - the location in a wild garden in the middle of the Camargue, the crazily inventive food from chef Jean Luc Rabanel, now at L’Atelier du Jean-Luc Rabanel in the city centre. I remember exquisitely pretty salads, a lit grill being brought to the table with tiny sardines on it. It was, as the French, say ludique (playful) - fresh, original and charming. We went once or twice more before Rabanel moved on.

Although his replacement Armand Amal has a Michein star we never got round to going back - until the other day and i must say I couldn’t wait.

The meal started well enough. In good weather you sit outside overlooking the garden in the beautiful dappled light of a vine-covered terrace. A plate arrived covered with a crisp socca (chickpea pancake). Underneath were some slivers of very good ham and a spicy chickpea purée. We winced slightly at the 90€ cost of the menu découverte - the only fixed price option on offer but given the starters were 19€ and the main courses 38-43€ it seemed the only way to go.

Beautiful colourful dishes started arriving. A brilliant flamingo-coloured red pepper gazpacho … but what’s this? Rocket purée and grapes? That doesn’t really work. Nor does red mullet, a strong-tasting fish that needs robust spicing, paired with blackberries. Or a plate of pickled carrots topped with a raw ‘gravlax’ of ‘taureau’. I know bull is a local ingredient but that’s definitely not the best way to serve it. We couldn’t taste much of the presumably home-grown carrots either.

“Who’s having the sole?” demanded our charmless waitress. Well you tell us. It’s supposed to be a surprise menu and we were told we had to order the same thing. It arrived in an heavily-saffroned broth perched on some fibrous yellow courgettes. Some ‘eau de tomate’ was poured over to little effect - again you couldn’t taste the sole. My very rare tuna, partnered with aubergines was much better as was a dish of lovely fresh coco beans and squid with a haricot bean purée. And a simply gorgeous dessert of sheeps milk yoghurt blancmange (more like a cheesecake) with figs and tonka bean ice-cream. Hurrah for the pastry chef!

We had problems with the drinks order too. I thought I ordered a sake flight - clever idea to offer rice wine in the Camargue - but got to dish 4 before I realised I hadn’t been given the next pairing so said I’d have a glass of wine instead. Could we have the list back? The sommelier arrived with two glasses he’d picked for us ‘to go with the food’ - a 1985 Roussillon white and a heavily oaked red both from Domaine Vaquer. We tried them. They didn’t. The red was too oaky for the tuna and the white was oxidised. The sommelier said it wasn’t. Finally we got a bit stroppy and they replaced them with wines of our choice (a decent if slightly bland Provence rosé and a Kreydenweiss Costières de Nîmes). Much irritation all round. (And no, it wasn’t a language problem. My husband speaks fluent French)

Maybe the chef - and the maitre’D - were on holiday but it all seemed a bit lacking in focus with neither the sure-footed cooking or the smoothly purring service you’d expect from a Michelin-starred restaurant. And, even given the glorious setting, expensive. If we hadn’t drunk relatively modestly we could have easily been looking at a bill of 300€ (£221) instead of the 211€ (£155) they charged us. Which seems pricey for a mainly vegetable-based menu put together from ingredients that are on the restaurant’s doorstep.

Although La Chassagnette is in the Camargue it seems to have more than a touch of Provencitis - in other words it’s succumbed to the temptation to play to a wealthy international clientele (there was only one party of French on the day we were there). As my husband said “They’re not as good as they were and they’re not as good as they think they are.” Sadly - despite the pretty pictures - I agree.

La Chassagnette, Route du Sambuc, 13200 Arles. Tel: 04 90 97 26 96

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