Dinner at L'Arpege last night. Herve This seminar today. My head hurts, my body hurts.
The fast lasted yesterday. Only verbena tea and honey the whole day - dinner reservations at 20:00. Metro'd over with Grace and Karli - just on the other side of Invalides but figured we'd save our energy for the walk home - Ecole Militaire's closing early now for construction and we wouldn't be done with dinner until after midnight.
We were the second table to arrive. Some Asian guy wearing what looked like a free golf shirt was sitting alone. They gave us the table in the back corner - perfect - Karli had a whole wing to herself.
We did not have any wine last night - I know - sacrilege. But we just could not make it through that kind of a dinner buzzed. That and we had a budget.
OK - here's the sick thing - to think that 500 Euros for two - at yesterday's exchange rate about 650 bucks - is a minimal budget. But it is at L'Arpege. The tasting menu's 320 Euros - 20 more than the higher menu at ADPA - and the funny thing is that everyone's always complaining about the prices at ADPA.
So we just started with sparkling water - which is what we had throughout the night.
I should say that I did find that Saveur article on L'Arpege yesterday - online. I thought I had a hard copy but I don't - I think the cover photo was of a basket of petit pains like the ones at ADPA - with the curling tendril ends. I remember thinking those breads looked amazing when I saw that picture - I had no idea what torture it was to make them. When I first started ADPA boulangerie I think I rolled out one good one for every 15 I tried - and that was pretty fucking miraculous since some people - even the other boulangers - had never been able to do it - ever. More on that technique some other time.
But that article - it was on Apicius and L'Arpege. And reading it - scared the shit out of me - it was like finding out I was adopted or something. The writing - fine - beautiful even - but the presumptions - frightening - the writer seemed to have no idea what was really going on. And that the so-called internship was set up by Ecoles des Chefs - sickening. First of all - to even say it was an internship - after a week of standing around and doing nothing but get in the way? Infuriating. People actually think they can say they staged after a week. Yah. OK. Whatever.
But reading that article - is that what I really believed was true? Is that what people believe is true now? OK - whatever.
Back to L'Arpege. I'd already looked up the menu online - and had decided we'd do one tasting menu - Pleine terre, pleine mer - and then I'd order separately a la carte. Even if we'd had an unlimited budget, I was just not interested in getting two of the same menus. First of all, Grace and I just cannot eat that much - and we can eat - and secondly I wanted to see more dishes.
A note on the French fine dining experience. It's kind of disgusting sometimes. Really. The volume of food - and the volume of rich food - gross. It's very Roman Empire - I'm not even going to say the V word - but you know what I mean.
So one Pleine terre, pleine mer tasting menu - and then another starter of Fines ravioles potageres, consomme vegetal - which is kind of misleading because the consomme is lobster and langoustine based; a plat of Coquille Saint-Jacques de la baie de Granville, chou fleur et persil au citron - which I thought would be interesting because we did a scallop and cauliflower dish at ADPA; and dessert I was thinking the infamous Tomate confite farce aux douze saveurs, sucre a la vanille - but I said we'd order later, because while I felt like I should order that, I just wasn't sure I was in the mood for a tomato dessert.
The amuse-bouche of the house is L'Oeuf, fermier de la Bigottiere - another infamous dish - the maple syrup egg. I was expecting - hoping for - a revelation - didn't get it. Good - tasty - but my egg was a little on the cold side - Grace's was a little warmer - and the tastes, textures - the experience - were just not happening.
And my taste was already pretty heightened - from not eating all day - but not totally desperate either - I'd had some of the house bread - really wonderful country bread - with the butter - salted beurre de barratte from M. Bordier. The egg was just not happening for me.
The next dish was the Caviar oscietre royal d'Iran, nouvelle peche - another classic - langoustine carpaccio, with small, loose spoonfuls of caviar around, suspended in a cream emulsion. Beautiful. Reminded me of the most visually striking dish I'd had at L'Ambroisie - caviar floating in a cream sauce. The caviar - pristine quality - the sauce - rich but light - the langoustine, good - not great - it was very fresh, but just not perfectly, perfectly fresh - when it's so fresh that it feels light, like it just rolls off the tongue - it felt just a little not light.
The combination of the next two dishes was strange. It was the Collection legumiere course. Mine was the fine raviolis, Grace's was not on the menu, but a brioche tourte of winter vegetables. Mine was my favourite dish of the might - gossamer thin but al dente wrappers, minced, soft onion and assorted root vegetable filling, the lobster and langoustine consomme - like a hyper-refined wonton soup. Eight ravioli - about a cup of soup - so good that it seemed to make sense that it cost about 75 bucks. Grace's dish was good but really strange - especially for a tasting menu - it was a wedge of winter vegetable pie. Very good brioche - really crispy with a delicate crumb - filled with a mixture of winter vegetables - similar to the filling in the raviolis - but way too big and heavy and just overall strange in an otherwise delicate menu. Karli ate most of the brioche on that one.
The next course should have only been from the tasting menu again - Homard des iles Chausey au miel d'acacia, radis noir - but the chef sent out a Jerusalem artichoke veloute, garnished with black sesame seeds, for me. Really surprising and very nice. The lobster was lightly sweet and sour and blanketed with transparent slices of the black radish - which I love - a bare black outline on crisp white flesh. Very good - finally a little pronounced flavour and texture. The veloute was thick, light - amazing for what smelled like pure butter and cream - dressed with black sesame seeds. These dishes were beautifully paired for their visual complement and taste and textural contrasts.
The chef substituted the Coquillages de la cote d'Emeraude on the tasting menu for the Sole de ligne sur ecailles, beurre mousseux. With this came my St. Jacques. The sole was pretty stunning in presentation - it's really just a long strip of sole served on a butter emulsion. Firm, meaty, and light - just nothing more than pure sole and an aroma of butter. The St. Jacques - nothing like our ADPA scallops - but very good nonetheless. Six, fat, quarter-sized lightly sauteed scallops - just a light golden crust - with what looked like cauliflower that had been sliced on a mandoline or meat slicer and crumbled into tiny flecks and blanched, with roughly chopped parsley, light lemon. The scallops were just barely cooked - and they really did need the Laguiole knife that was set with this plate.
The chef again subsituted the next dish - from the Turbot sauvage au naturel, emulsion de savagnin - to St. Pierre on a butter, vin jaune emulsion - presented whole - and let me just say that was one big ugly mofo of a fish - and bumped up again from one dish to two. Again, beautiful, clean - nothing but fish - and not to sound like such an ingrate - but I think its impact was diminished from the sole as the previous course.
Mercifully our last savoury dish was up next - Vollaille de paturage poelee au sesame noir et soja, aceto balsamico tradizionale 25 ans d'age. My favourite plating of the night I think - very flat white plate, a modern but rustic deconstructed whirlwind of chicken and vegetables - with broad strokes of vinegar for even more dynamic movement. But essentially, just a very good roasted chicken and very good roasted vegetables - but I did really appreciate the plating - with the sot-l'y-laisse.
But the funny thing that happened here - while they were really cool and laid back about Karli - even bringing out a bowl of water for her without my having to ask for it - when I asked for the chicken to be wrapped to take home for her later - they first took it away - and then came back apologizing and earnestly explaining that it was against the law - and what with all the government buildings in the area that it could cause quite a scandal, etc. OK - yah - right. I can understand - bad for the image - but it was a little sadly funny.
At this point Grace and I had that glassy-eyed, over-dined, we're about to pass out expression - and not that we'd even eaten that much food - it was just all so rich - and protracted. We used Karli as an excuse and ran outside for a fresh air break. Then we went back in to face the cheese cart.
This is always the killer moment for me in France. I want to - but a cheese plate alone could be a meal for me. The fact that it comes at the end of a dinner like this always seems like such mockery - "Hah! Hah! Hah! Little non-Gallic girl! How dare you try to dine like us - with your puny little liver!" But I braced myself, and had just slivers of a goat, Corsican ewe, two bleus, and a 2000 Comte served up. I could barely manage molecules of each of the cheeses - Grace kind of just tongued the Comte - Karli basically ate the whole plate. Yes, she is one lucky dog.
And then - then - on to the sweets. An odd plate of petit fours. OK - I know I said I was so full that I was nearly in need of a quick shot of adrenaline to the heart - but that's what dessert is to me. But these petit fours - two small golden discs, two small tartelette shells, two small brown discs - only OK. And that was basically that - I think mint syrup glazed puff pastry - and then the same in the tartelettes. Just OK.
Dessert. I'd decided against ordering a second dessert. They'd originally suggested the Tomato with the tasting menu but we opted for the Souffle au chocolat noir, creme glacee a la liqueur de menthe. And very generously again - they brought out two - two souffles. Small ramekins, very high rise, crispy golden top, with a heart of chocolate sunken in. Very good - not a trace of egginess - perfectly done. Again, very nice, very generous - but not strong enough of a chocolate flavour.
We were starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel - and then they brought out six more of the disc petit fours. And more plates - they said they were just for presentation. And then very, very - very - generously - they brought out a Millefeuille Arpege, couleurs de saison. It was enough to serve four. They presented this tower of caramelised puff pastry and loose pastry cream to our fixed grin faces - and then whisked it away to slice and serve - into just two gargantuan portions. Grace and I swigged some more water - and then steeled ourselves for more food. She just kind of pushed hers apart - I had a few bites - the cream was really amazingly light - not at all like standard patisserie cream - and then gave most of my puff pastry to Karli.
They kept looking like they wanted to bring us more - maybe we shouldn't have been so damned enthusiastic - but instead we said that we thought we were done - and then they finished our thought and finally invited us to see the kitchen.
We started downstairs - tiny pastry area - I won't call it a kitchen - with an ice cream machine tucked in a stone-arched alcove - doorways so low I had to duck. Up narrow, steep stairs to the main kitchen - garde manger slot in the back - then towards the front - fish on one side of the short stove - meat on the other.
M. Passard had already left for the night - I'm talking to him next week - and there was just one cook who'd already changed into his civvies getting ready to leave - and one dishwasher.
On our way out they plied us with menus, cards, and books.
I'm still so drained. I really thought a night of three-Michelin-star dining out would be so easy compared to three-Michelin-star cooking - not at all. After a night at ADPA I might feel physically exhausted but I'm exhilerated. But last night - even now - I feel just so drained.
This was way too long. Herve This tomorrow. And we've got Pierre Gagnaire for lunch tomorrow.
