« November 2006 | Main | January 2007 »
December 22, 2006
HISPANIA: BEGINNING OF A LOVE STORY
I am not exaggerating.
If I choose one restaurant that I will eat at once a week in the foreseeable future I will not have a second thought: It will be Hispania, located in Arenys de Mar, about a 40 min. drive from Barcelona.
This is actually what Josep Viella, gourmet extraordinaire, does, who has also been my generous host in Barcelona last month. He is certainly lucky to have access to this gem of a place in his backyard.
Hispania is almost the antithesis of what puts Spain on the map nowadays: molecular gastronomy. The cuisine of Hispania is neither chic nor faddish. Instead it is umistakeably a cuisine rooted in tradition and terroir: the best of Catalunya. The ingredients they use are not just first rate; they are extraordinary. Some of the dishes are not only very good, but the best examples of traditional dishes (such as crème catalana, butifarra sausage, tripe, Catalan style paella), and the cooking is extremely clean and focused, its sole aim being to highlight the superlative ingredients they use. Unlike some other Spanish high end restaurants, such as Can Roca or Mugaritz, which may as comfortably set up shop in, say, New York and London, Hispania is restaurant that can only exist in its place of birth.
And the Spanish know it. When I visit some Spanish multi-starred restaurants, such as Mugaritz, Berasategui and Akelare, I am often struck by the absence of local clientele. More often than not, this is for good reason. Hispania is the opposite. They actually have a loyal clientele base To them, this venerable Catalan institution, run by two sisters, Paquita and Lolita, may evoke the memories of childhood, that is, mom’s cooking on festive days, except that mom probably never achieved this level of consistency and did not have access to the same ingredients.
One problem in writing restaurant reviews is that one single meal, while sufficient to make a judgment, is often insufficient to reach a conclusion about a restaurant. I have often found that my second meal in a place that I was quite positive the first time was a relative failure. The converse of this statement, however, is not true. I have never been excited about a restaurant that left me cold the first time. Fortunately, we have had two meals at Hispania during our five day visit of Barcelona last month, so I have some confidence that my ultimate judgment reflects the underlying value of the restaurant. In the review below, I am combining the dishes we have had in two meals as if they belong to one single meal.
However, I have one word of caution. At the beginning of the meal you will be served the famous tomato bread (PA AMB TOMAQUET), that is traditional grilled bread rubbed with garlic, tomato juice and crystal salt. It is the best grilled bread on earth because the focacio-like bread that they use and the tomatos are both outstanding. One picture below shows about a third of the loaf baked in a local bakery (and the second picture is how it is served). At any rate, go easy with it. Don’t fill yourself up, as there are many more goodies to follow.
If you are seated in the cozy interior room, you will find that your table is already endowed with home made sausages of various kinds and marinated anchovies. The restaurant butchers a pig once a week, and all the sausages are homemade. The quality is very high and makes one feel like one is having a meal in an organic farm.
All this charcuterie is a very good match with the tomato bread. But before you have tasted them all, a new plate will be brought before you: PORK EARS. They are crunchy and soft in texture, and gelatinous. If you like offals, you owe yourself the favor of tasting them in this restaurant.
One can then turn to lighter fare, such as tomato salad and baby artichokes. All kinds of vegetables actually are a showcase for the restaurant to demonstrate how vegetables tasted before the onset of agribusiness and modern agriculture. One can no longer taste such vegetables in the States and rarely finds them even in Southern Europe. The GANXET BEANS, which come with the tomato/onion salad, almost have no skin. To me, they are superior to the Paimpol beans at Gagnaire. The tomatos, even in mid-November, are full of flavor, and the onions are sweet. (I was told that the Montserrat tomatos whose season had ended are better.) The olive oil which is used in the salad (and in the tomato bread) is the 2006 harvest, bottled about two weeks before our visit. The grilled heart of baby artichokes, which follows this dish, are also evocative of forgotten tastes. While the whole world “discovered” sunchoke or Jerusalem artichokes, we seem to have forgotten, especially in the States (even in California) what artichokes are supposed to taste like. Well, they should not taste bland or sterile; they should have a pungent, slightly metallic taste which lasts after each bite. Here in Hispania, artichokes are tender and full of flavor.
Hispania prides itself for seafood dishes too, and for very good reason.
The SALMONETES (rouget) are super fresh. I prefer them from the Mediterranean rather than the Atlantic. They are fried perfectly; they come non-greasy but moist. The best way to eat them is with your hands. If you shake them by holding the tail, you will see that the meat will separate from the bone. Chances are that they have not been refrigerated.
CHIPIRONES (baby calamar) a la plancha is equally fresh. What makes them particularly special is that the restaurant only uses calamar de potera, that is basically caught with a special instrument so as not to spoil the texture and taste. Some drops of the extraordinary olive oil and sea salt elevate this simple dish to the level of rare and delicious. They are as good as restaurant Lorenzo’s (in Forte dei Marmi) superlative version.
Hispania of course serves GAMBAS DE PALAMOS. These are deep sea prawns which come from an area between Palamos and Denia. IMO, together with the Gamberi di San Remo, they are the most outstanding prawns on earth of which I know, very sweet and subtle in taste. When so fresh, they belong to the category of those rare flavors from the sea which have to be tasted to be believed. (Unfortunately they are much more expensive than other prawns. I saw them for 80 Euro a kilogram in the mercado in Barcelona.) I can swear that the prawns had been served within a day of being caught. They tasted even fresher than the ones we had at Etxebarri in the same trip. It is possible that never putting the prawns on ice was the basic difference between the Etxebarri version and this one. Of course gambas need to be grilled whole with the shell intact to preserve the juice. If you get to try them, I recommend that you also suck on the head.
If another great restaurant, such as the Etxebarri in the Basque country, brings prawns from Catalunya, then Hispania, in turn, imports a great ingredient from San Sebastian: the baby eels or ANGULAS. Actually Raimon, the son of Paquita, who works in the kitchen of Hispania, told us that they use the same supplier for angulas as ETXEBARRI. But, unlike Etxebarri, they don’t grill the angulas, but prepare them the traditional way, that is, cooked in an earthenware casserole with a little garlic and parsley. Either way, it is really a pity that angulas are so expensive and rare because they become an acquired taste, like jamon bellota, where one can only find the best examples in Spain and then understand what the fuss is all about.
LANGOUSTE or spiny lobster is also of very high quality in Catalunya. According to Raimon, the best example comes from Cap Creus where the water is cooler than Arenys de Mar. Raimon is brutally honest because he could have told me that the live langouste he brought to our table was from Cap Creus, but his honesty, a personal feature which is quite rare in the modern world, must also be coming from an upbringing in the family that has owned Hispania for more than half a century(I was told by Josep Viella that the mother of Paquita and Lolita was “una grand cuisiniere”). Clearly these family values, which are embedded in the restaurant, put a premium on no nonsense solidity and mutual trust, rather than PR, theater and glibness. At any rate the simply boiled langouste, which we devoured by dipping it in the super olive oil seasoned with freshly ground black pepper, was extaordinary (also a sauce romesco and homemade mayonnaise were brought to the table). Raimon then placed a small braised langouste in front of us to show the traditional preparation with potatoes, called a “suquet”. In this case the show stopper was the zesty potatoes which had absorbed the sweet taste of spiny lobster and stood in the forefront, while the langouste was relegated to the supporting position. In a way this made sense, because, of all the products we had in Hispania, the small langouste was the only one that I will not call extraordinary. My best guess is that it was not a local product but was coming from the Balearic Islands and was semi-farmed, like the small Maine lobsters which cannot be called wild. (But the langouste was still more interesting in taste than the quasi-farmed Maine lobster.)
I confess that I have never had a PAELLA in Valencia or Alicante as I have never been in these cities. So I never have had a great paella in my life, and the examples I had in Barcelona (such as in the restaurant Set Portes) have been disappointing. I am now converted to the cause after trying the Hispania version. Clearly the rice is the main flavor in this dish which absorbs shellfish, vegetables, and some roast pork flavors. The saffron that is used in the dish is also of very high quality in Spain. This is another great traditional dish which may be among the most abused, like most traditional dishes nowadays. I have an inkling that they may have cooked the paella in the fireplace to acquire the extaordinarary taste, but I forgot to ask Raimon. We were all too intoxicated by its aromas and taste.
After meeting and enjoying the company of Josep Vlella, I am now thinking that traditional Catalunyan and Turkish hospitality have very much in common. One such feature is that, when you like something, you really want to share it with your guest. This is a type of generosity rooted in another romantic era, and, even if the harsh realities of the modern world so much shaped by global capital and labor mobility rule out romanticism, many good traditions still linger in Mediterranean countries. At any rate, I am thankful to Josep’s insistence on having me try two more masterpieces from Hispania: a beignet de morue (as good as Mikael Johnson’s homemade version) and a broth of bouillabaise soup. While we could not have had Hispania’s celebrated bouillabaise that a group of Barca football club managers and their ladies were enjoying in an adjacent table, we got to taste the fish soup without the fish. It was neither fishy, nor salty, nor too intense, just sweet and with a whiff of the sea. Next time, hopefully I will get to order a bouillabaise.
Up to this point, and if you are still bearing with me, you may conclude that Hispania is basically a seafood restaurant with good vegetables. This would be the wrong conclusion. Actually Hispania scores as high with meat dishes as it does with seafood, and we have tried quite a few to reach this conclusion.
For example, we tried the TRIPE with Chorizo. The tripes are well cleaned. They certaily smell like tripe, and they melt in the mouth with the right amount of spiceness/contrast provided by spicy sausage. Most importantly, the quality of the dish is betrayed by its light texture. It feels light and uplifting, unlike most tripe dishes one can try elsewhere. Tripe is certainly a well liked ingredient in Catalunya.
Or consider another traditional dish: BUTIFARRA sausage, simply grilled and served with great fries. They are firm and moist at the same time. From now on, they will be the benchmark for me to gauge the quality of any grilled sausage, an ideal comfort food.
Another traditional meat that one can get the ultimate example in Hispania is CABRITO or baby goat. Simply roasted to perfection, its skin is glistening by the olive oil which penetrates the flesh. I like the taste of goat, but having eaten it so many times, I am usually reluctant to order it. The goat has to be very young to taste good. When it is very good, it tastes more like young lamb. Otherwise it can develop a “goaty” aroma and stringy texture which is not too pleasant. Modern chefs often try to conceal the “goatyness” of older goat by rendering the texture excessively soft by cooking it sous-vide and also by rubbing the skin with excessive spices and/or by covering it with sweet paste. This was not the case in Hispania. Here, like in other dishes, the main actor was the main ingredient. If you don’t like it, this means you don’t like the taste of baby goat. If you like it, it does not get better in taste.
Unfortunately, we had been so taken by the aroma which filled the room when the dish was served that we forgot to take a picture. The same thing happened when PORK FEET was served at the same time, which confirmed our earlier opinion reached after tasting the pork ears that Hispania excels in preparing all parts of pork. The pork feet dish was served with the bone, without any alteration or adulteration of the main ingredient. This is part of the restaurant’s philosophy about integrity, but it may be anathema to those who visit Spain and who eat only in Michelin two and three star restaurants. (Hispania has one star.)
Fortunately we did not forget to take the picture of another traditional dish: PILOTA I CARN D’OLLA. This was basically a “pot a feu” or like a “bollito misto” which combines various ingredients, such as chicken feet, pork chops, pork cheek, veal chop, a meat loaf from pork, veal, bread crumbs and herbs (pilota), blood sausage, etc. I especially found the meat loaf and blood sausage outstanding. But what made the dish memorable for me was the quality of the condiments they served with it: the green cabbage and the garbanzo beans, espeically the latter. The small garbanzo beans virtually had no skin, and they tasted like they were from another bygone era. Raimon said that they come from a traditional farm in Extramadura. In all fairness, vegetables served in Hispania are on par with Bras and Passard. At the same time Raimon thinks that it is getting harder and harder to procure them, as some of the farms from which they get their supplies are threatened by urban development schemes, and traditional farming methods are also being abandoned by the new generation farmers.
We also tried some very good desserts at Hispania, such as fraise des bois with frozen custard, an ethereal ile flottante, which will make any French chef proud, and quite good homemade vanilla sorbet. But the one dessert that should not be missed is their version of CRÈME CATALANA. If I am asked to choose between this and Robuchon’s crème brulee at Jamin, I will have a very hard time to choose….
So many rich offal and meat dishes in Hispania go well with the Rioja wines. I was very happy with the 2002 San Vicente, although I can see that some Priorat wines will also be a good match with the hearthy fare. The harder task is to match the seafood dishes. Albarino-based wines from Galicia are always an option, but I don’t think the more complex examples, such as Pazo de Senorans Seleccion, are available. A wine from Rueda, such as Belondrade y Lurton, is always a possibility, but I think both this wine and the higher end examples of the chardonnay-based wines in Spain, are too much in the international style and lack complexity. Perhaps the best option is to stick with good cava and then switch to red wine. This is what most Catalunyans do anyway!
Hispania may as well be my favorite restaurant in Spain at this time.
Gastroville Ranking: 18.5 /20 (Vedat Milor-December 2006)
December 12, 2006
L'AMBROISIE: ABSOLUTE PERFECTION
What is the measure of true greatness in French cuisine?
In my opinion there is one overriding measure. A meal prepared by a great chef should achieve an absolute harmony without sacrificing the complex flavor profile of classic French cooking, while also giving the impression of clarity and light handedness in cooking. At the end of the meal one should feel uplifted and ecstasic rather than that one’s stomach is nearly bursting. When looking back at the meal in hindsight with the benefit of a couple of weeks that has elapsed, one should still re-live the culinary nirvana that is tantamount to a transcendental experience which may not be captured in words.
Clearly such moments are rare because the chefs who are capable of reaching that level of perfection are less than rare.
I only know 3 of them in my own dining experience: Freddy Girardet (whom I became familiar with quite late in his career), Joel Robuchon (whose new ventures should not be confused with what he was capable of when he was at the helm) and, Bernard Pacaud.
This does not mean that each meal prepared by these perfectionist chefs achieve a near perfect score. Nor am I claiming that other chefs are not capable of great moments. But my argument is that, among the Michelin three star chefs that I know, the three individuals I name here are or were capable of preparing great meals with a higher frequency than others and even their low points may be beyond the attainment of quite a few super chefs today who are parading as Michelin two and three star chefs (thanks to a drastic lowering of standards) in many countries.
Our 16 November 2006 meal at l’Ambroisie was certainly one of those meals which will linger forever in my memory. We also had exceptional company, and one friend who was with us with her family and who is an elegant lady endowed with a sensitive palate translated her impressions to writing:
“I must tell you that our meal at L’Ambroisie wasn’t just another good meal, but it was rather an emotional summation of our whole trip, its gastronomic climax. Every dish seemed to capture a small piece of M. Pacaud’s soul. The earlier course weaved a plot, and the conclusion solved it. Not for a second, was there a formality in dishes, which often defeats the narrative of the meal. Not for a moment was there a sense of the outdated or dull or monotonous. …And how could I possibly have all the right words to describe the kindness of both M. LeMoullac and M. Pascal?”
Indeed!
The plot, so to speak, kicked off with some of the best gougeres in the world (feather light and without the cheap trick of sauce bechamel as in the States) and a deceptively simple amuse-bouche. That is, slightly smoked Scottish Salmon, topped by “hashbrowns” and served with a dollop of crème fraiche and dill. What makes this simple Pacaud classic so special is that the salmon is devoid of excess fat (so typical of farmed versions) and the smoking is so subtle that it enhances the unique taste of wild Scottish salmon rather than substituting for it.
The plot seemed to have thickened with the first course of the night; “Filet de Bar Aux Cepes”. Simple sounding, is not it? Also it was easy to taste and appreciate, but our appreciation has intensified by each bite for reasons easy to state. First, the wild, line caught bar (translated as sea bass—but true bar does not exist in the States) in question was so fresh, juicy and sweet that even those who don’t think that the bar belongs to the pantheon of the most interesting fish species of the world (such as myself!) are bound to take their hat off. Second, both the cep (porcini) mousse and the circularly cut raw ceps were full of flavor and it was a sensual delight to see how the warmth of the fish heated the raw wild mushrooms (last of the season) in the plate and, consequently, its flavor gradually became deeper and more interesting. Third, the light emulsion of olive oil which was poured on top had the right touch of acidity, and the sauce truly bound the separate parts of the dish together and elevated their pristine and complimentary flavors, rather than masking them. The dish was vintage Pacaud, and the cooking was unmistakably in the tradition of Haute Cuisine Francaise: flavorful yet balanced, imaginative yet restrained, playful yet precise, aesthetically pleasing yet not obsessed by it alone.
What followed in the development of the mysterious plot (we had left the composition of the menu to Monsieur Pascal) was a shellfish course: “Corolle de noix de Saint-Jacques et brocoli, a la truffe blance d’Alba ‘O. Berluti’.”
Well, this dish pictured below was clearly a visual treat depicting the interplay of white, brownish and green figures with geometrical precision.
But, the visual impact is always a byproduct of taste harmony in Pacaud dishes. It is never an end in itself. And this dish, in juxtapposing the sweetest imaginable barely cooked nutty scallops from Brittanie, and, arguably, the world’s best broccoli cut into round flowers, sought a perfect unison of earthy, nutty, crunchy and sweet flavors, binding all of them together and sharpening their flavors with a parsley coulis kissed by garlic. What is meant here by “kissing” is that one tasted the garlic, but could not see it or have one’s taste buds attacked by rough flavors. Again a textbook Pacaud dish, that is, a dish of restraint without sacrificing intensity and true taste of two superlative ingredients: the best wild scallops and broccoli imaginable. Then, there was a final Midas touch that elevated this dish to a supreme status in the Pantheon of scallop preparations: shaved Alba truffles (Magnatum Pico) of the highest quality, specifically selected by Pacaud. For some reason best white truffles prove to be elusive in our Alba trips. (The seven of us had just visited Alba.) It looks like the choicest Alba truffles, the round, most aromatic ones which are also quite large in size (but this does not mean that the largest are the best) are gobbled up by restaurants outside of Piemonte. Here is the picture of the truffles that Pacaud uses. (Also please note that Pacaud slices white truffles thicker than they do in Alba. This may be an additional reason why they come across as more aromatic.)
Needless to say, the scallop-broccoli dish was NOT a white truffle dish that one finds great examples of in Alba, but it was rather a variation of the so called “mer et terre” dishes, enriched by white truffles. Indeed aromatic Alba truffles exhibit a hint of garlic aroma among others components, and the juxtapposition of parsley-garlic coulis and the white truffle did enhance one another and brought out the nuttiness that one can find in very fresh diver scallops from certain regions of the world (esp. Galicia and the Breton coast). I also think that Alba truffles blend beautifully with some green and root vegetables (such as cardoons), but one lady in our company took exception to this viewpoint.
If we except the superlative desserts, the “solution” of the plot was revealed by another chef-d’oeuvre of Pacaud: TOURTE DE CANARD SAUVAGE. Like all things which relate to taste, even the greatest masterpieces are ephemeral and neither words nor pictures can capture the experience. My overriding sadness in having this dish for a second time is that I know my daughter who is only 4.5 years old will never get to taste it as it is doubtful that Pacaud will still be tending his stoves when she grows up sufficiently to appreciate exceptional cuisine. At any rate she can enjoy the picture of the “tourte.”
I have eaten quite a few versions of game pies prepared by master chefs in France, but the Pacaud version stands out for many reasons. The crust is exceptional, neither soggy nor too flaky. It is cooked to order. I assume some pork and veal is used in the preparation along with the main ingredient: colvert duck (green neck). Different parts of the duck are prepared separately and then all are brought together, retaining their distinct qualities and incomparable taste. The thigh is well cooked and flavorful; the breast is pink and juicy. The duck liver which is used to separate distinct parts of the dish is well cleaned, and its texture remains silky and its quality puts to shame most foie gras dishes served in expensive restaurants nowdays. (Personally I rarely order a foie gras dish due to frequent disappointments.) The dish is enriched by juniper berries which are used in stuffing and in the sauce, which is light and devoid of excess cream or butter. The dish is served with a frisee salad, and the lettuce tastes as if it has just been plucked out of the garden. Some, not ungenerous, shavings of Alba truffles on the salad, certainly don’t hurt too!
Another beauty of Pacaud’s narrative is that one actually has some room left for cheese. As far as I know, Monsieur Aloisse is the supplier of cheese to the restaurant. He is certainly a distinguished affineur, but I have yet to taste a cheese from him that will remain anchored in my mind as some of the Comte which are supplied to some restaurants (such as Les Ambassadeurs, Arpege, Ledoyen) by another great affineur: M. Bernard Anthony. This said, of the seven cheeses I tasted at L’Ambroisie, I noted three of them as being exceptional (a Coulommier, an artisanal Saint Nectaire fermier, and a very sweet and creamy Roquefort), one very good (the St. Marcellin) and three quite good (the Cantal, the Gruyere and the Chevre). To me, this is no mean accomplishment.
Another feature in the overall l’Ambroisie narrative that I admire is that, unlike what is in fashion nowdays, Pacaud does not believe in satiating you with a procession of sweets. Instead, he usually sends to your table one fresh fruity dessert to titillate the palate, and he follows it up with one of his exquisite desserts. In mid-November the first dessert course turned out to be “veloute de mangues en minestrone, babas bouchon au rhum”, followed by one of his masterpieces, “tarte fine sable au cacao amer, glace a la vanilla”. The former was a very modern dessert: exotic, tangy and aromatic. Rich flavors of neither over and nor under-ripe mangos and mango coulis danced on your palette with the perfume of coconut milk and the outstanding baby rhum babas (which can compete in quality with the Ducasse version). The babas were well soaked in fine quality rhum that added a touch of quite decadent zestiness.
Talking about decadence, Pacaud’s version of chocolate tarte with vanilla ice cream is the best chocolate-based dessert that I know. It is decadent not because it is extremely rich, but it is pure decadence because its flavors remain very intense and very ethereal at the same time. If you place your fork a few inches above the tarte and then drop it literally to the middle, the fork will pierce the tart through. Don’t be shy. Please do it!
A side thought: it is too bad that Pacaud is no longer preparing his millefeuille. It had always stood out among other millefeuille desserts prepared by other great chefs (such as Passard).
It is a sad thing, but one of the realities of life that wine lists are always expensive in three star restaurants. Perhaps mark ups are most excessive in the United States, and, secondly, in France. In terms of mark ups, I should say that l’Ambroisie’s list approximates a fair average of Parisian three star restaurants. It is less expensive than Arpege for sure. But I will go out on a limb and claim that l’Ambroisie has a particular asset for oenophiles that other three stars do not quite possess to the same degree. That is, Monsieur Lemoullac who is not only the General Manager, but also the sommelier, is a unique among all sommeliers that I have met in France and the States. He is unique in the sense that he is totally unaffected by ratings, current fads, big names, and labels. He trusts his own palate and his palate is responsive to nuance and delicacy, rather than to sheer power and high alcohol He also knows extremely well Pacaud’s cooking—it is impossible to think of one man without the other, as the careers of these two men, both at the zenith of their respective but complimentary fields, have inextricably been linked together. The result is a perfect symbiosis which benefits the clients of the restaurant if they desire to heed the advice of Monsieur Pascal (to compose the menu) and Monsieur Lemoullac (to select the wines within your price parameters).
L’Ambroisie is actually the only restaurant in the world that I don’t impose my own views on the wine selections as I came to trust M. Lemoullac’s Breton nose, whose qualities reveal themselves over time and with repeated visits, just like M. Pacaud’s cooking or Madame Pacaud’s warm and friendly Mediterranean personality which may not be detected at first behind detached elegance, “a la Francaise”. At any rate, in the meal I described above, Monsieur Lemoullac opened a 2004 Condrieu, from Cuilleron, and I always like the particular site it comes from: Les Chaillets. 2004 is almost as good as the other worldly 2003, with its focused taste of apricot seed and fresh almonds, and its complex minerality. It also went extremely well with our first two courses. I like Cuilleron and also Andre Perret very much among Condrieu producers. It is a pity that most sommeliers in France try to get me order Condrieu from Vernon instead, which I find generally more “gras” than Cuilleron, but not as delicate or interesting.
Another great choice of M. Lemoullac for a reasonable price which went extremely well with our “tourte de gibier” was a Latricieres Chambertin 2000, from Trapet. The wine showed very well, and it was beginning to develop some complex aromas without losing its delicate and fresh red berry fruitiness. It was a silky wine with round tannins, and some exotic spices revealed themselves in the medium-long finish and blended well with the juniper berries present in the dish.
It is always hard to match a cheese course with a single wine. But we did quite well with a spicy, opulent Syrah based wine (2000 Cornas from Jean Luc Colombo) which was a rather tame and refined expression of Syrah without being overly woody or chocolaty—that is, in the international style highly touted by some wine journals.
The meal ended with single malt old Scotches that pair well with the chocolate dessert. I was also amused to hear that M. Lemoullac is one of the very few who share my view that one should never mix desserts (already cloying) and dessert wine. It is much better to have hard liquor at the end, or nothing.
But it is always better to have a digestive before stepping out of the culinary heaven and into what can possibly be the most exquisite square in Paris: la Place des Vosges. I also recommend that you walk to your hotel. Paris is not the ugliest city on earth, but it looks particularly blessed after a meal at L’Ambroisie. Besides, you will save some money!
Gastrovılle Ranking: 19.5/20 (Vedat Milor—7 December 2006)
December 11, 2006
Dining in France's top ten best restaurants outside France
Dining in France has just released the top ten French restaurants outside France for 2007.
These are Dining in France's selections are in no particular order:
Caprice – Hong Kong, China
Domaine de Châteauvieux – Satigny, Switzerland
Joël Robuchon – Las Vegas NV, USA
Joël Robuchon Restaurant – Tokyo, Japan
Le Louis XV – Monte Carlo, Monaco
Michel Bras Toya Japon – Toya (Hokkaido), Japan
per se – New York NY, USA
Le Pont de Brent – Brent, Switzerland
Rochat – Crissier, Switzerland
Schwarzwaldstube – Baiersbronn, Germany
