Gastroville

The total capacity of the restaurant may not exceed 40 seats or so, divided in two equally attractive rooms and a tiny quasi-private room in the back. The first impression one can have upon getting seated is that although at first sight the room is not gilded or excessively decorated, every single detail seems to be just right. That is, the Aubusson tapestries on the walls, the oil paintings, the vases, the perfectly polished floors and the marble, the pristine linen and finest crystal glasses, are such that, nothing seems superfluous or excessive, but one can not easily think a way to improve on the decoration without upsetting the overall harmony.

The same can be said of the chef/owner Monsieur Pacaud’s cooking. My standard for dishes in Haute Cuisine restaurants is to ask the question “can this have been any better?” Over the years and after many meals I have reached the conclusion that this tiny establishment who shuns the limelight comes as close to perfection as any establishment to have such a claim. In fact so many dishes I have had the chance to try are such that one can hardly conceive a way to add or detract an ingredient from the dish. All of these dishes consist of 3 to 4 ingredients whereby one ingredient is clearly the “King” but the associative ingredients are also treated regally and form a perfect symbiosis with the leading part. Pacaud treats all ingredients with such an utmost respect that instead of making vocal statements a la Gagnaire or evoking baroque themes a la Ducasse, he works more like a miniaturist, working meticulously to bring out the details and full potentiality of each ingredient without losing sight of its unison with the main theme (I borrowed this analogy from an incisive reviewer who writes under the name lxt in culinary websites). Consequently and this may be the destiny of perfectionists, many diners may find Pacaud’s dishes to be “too simple”. I would sympathize with this statement if “simplicity” is the end product of an arduous artisanal process and if it denotes the ultimate in harmony and restraint. L’Ambroisie is not the place to savor tapas style degustation menus consisting of 10+ culinary fireworks experimenting with new textural contrasts. It is the place to savor one amuse and three courses (plus cheese and a dessert). Choose your courses in consultation with Monsieur Pascal, who is courteous, and he will not be shy about expressing his opinion about the proper sequence and overall harmony of your meal. Take advice and you will see that while each dish you savour will be harmonious in itself, in progressive succession, they will create a crescendo effect.

I am glad that, over the years, I listened to professional advice and, as a result, I have been rewarded by some perfect dishes, some exceptional dishes, and some very good dishes. I am not kidding. One amazing quality of L’Ambroisie’s is the incredible level of consistency. I have never seen a restaurant where the distance between the highs and lows is so minimal and the highs are always perfect.

A typical Pacaud dish displays three characteristics. First, Pacaud is obsessed with ingredient quality, and he is not prejudiced among ingredients in the sense that he will choose the best of the ingredients regardless of price and only serve them at their prime time and only and only if he is content with the quality of the delivery. So it is quite possible that the restaurant may not serve black truffles in mid-January if the chef does not think that they are fully ripe and complex. Second, he is obsessed with harmony without sacrificing the intensity and clarity of particular tastes. The emphasis on clarity may imply that most dishes there contain very little or no butter and cream, as the chef does not want to mask flavors. In this sense, it is apt to call Pacaud the last true nouvelle cuisine chef, and it is especially interesting to have a meal at Ducasse’s Parisian temple for many pre-nouvelle dishes, and experience the classic sauces in all their glory, and then try, say, a cream sauce with vin jaune at L’Ambroisie to see the contrast. And lastly, Pacaud is also obsessed with technique in the tradition of an artisan. Visual effects and techo presentations are not his style, and most dishes embody an element of painstaking research and long preparation times. It is in fact rare to find a Three Star Michelin chef who is not afraid of including in the menu bistro dishes, such as navarins, matelots, long cooked queue de boeuf, etc. But have some of these dishes at L’Ambroisie and you will see why they have been considered timeless classics.

My last two meals at L’Ambroise were on March 12 and March 19. March 19 was especially a memorable date for me because, one veteran waiter of the institution, the affable Monsieur Pierre (not to be confused with Monsieur Pierre Lemoullac who is the General Manager and the sommelier) is about to retire and certainly he will be missed. At any rate the meal was as perfect as it can be. Once the candle was lit and excellent Roederer house champagne was poured, we munched on the gougères which are fluffy and extraordinary given the high quality of the gruyere. Following a very fine amuse of “escalopine de saumon”, a thick piece of marinated Scottish salmon which is topped by crunchy hash browns and served by crème fraiche and dill we had the following dishes:

Veloute de Topinambours aux St. Jacques, copeaux de Truffe
Darne de Turbot aux Asperges
Feuillete de Truffes Bel Humeur

Fromages
Tarte Fine Sablee au Poire

Scallop dishes at L’Ambroisie seem to share the following characteristics: first, the quality of the scallops is impeccable and the scallops are served barely heated and retain all their sweetness and textural integrity when they are so fresh and come from certain places, such at the Brittany or the Galician coast. Second, Pacaud never over complicates the dish, and there are invariably three ingredients which interact in mutually supportive ways. Third, one of these three ingredients is a truffle: the white Alba variety in November and the black Perigord truffle in winter. Last November, in fact, Pacaud had served us a visually stunning and perfect dish of scallops with Alba truffles and a mousseline of broccoli. This time, with Perigord truffles, which are less ethereal and pungent, but more smoky and minerally than Alba truffles, he substituted veloute of Jerusalem Artichokes for the more delicate broccoli. The results were equally stunning in the sense that the subtle earthy tones of the Jerusalem artichokes and the earthy/cruchy perfect truffles accentuated the sweet nuances of the central element of the dish without compromising its unique shellfish qualities. This was a dish which is as light and ethereal as a first course can or should be, yet focused and intense at the same time.

The king of the sea, the Atlantic turbot, is a risky dish to serve in a restaurant because, unlike some other great fish, such as Dover Sol, it does not keep well, say for a week, and it has to be consumed in a two or four day period after the catch to taste as good as it can. Recently, given the current popularity of this fish, there is ample farming and the 10+ pounds Atlantic turbots and the superb Black Sea turbots with buttons, are getting rarer and prohibitively expensive. In the Black Sea region and in Turkey the turbot season is also rather short: March to June, and it tastes the best when it is caught in the cold waters of the Bosphorous in the second half of March. The connoisseurs usually suck the bone of the turbot, which contains the gelatinous fat, and the meat close to the bone tastes the best. Pacaud, when serving turbot, cuts a very thick piece from the bone, and on the day of my visit we were told that they had just received a turbot of 9 kilogram, i.e. about 20 pounds. The meaty turbot can also absorb well some meat jus and Pacaud sometimes serves it with a meat stock and aged balsamic vinegar jus and caramelized endives. He also crusts the turbot with mustard and some oriental spices, which contrasts well with the meaty turbot. But in early Spring he chose to create a lighter dish, serving it with two huge, very first of the season, green asparagus from Pertuis. The thickened olive oil based emulsion and the “tapenade” of chopped black truffles served on the side interacted with the turbot in symbiotic ways and compared to other great turbot dishes I have tried in great restaurants (one at the Italian Le Calandre is still anchored in my memory), this one certainly ranks at the very top.

Perhaps most significantly, Pacaud opted for a relatively “light” turbot dish with incomparable quality asparagus in order to enable us to fully appreciate our main course, which is, one of the most decadent and delicious dishes that I know. In fact, it is no exaggeration to say that time stands still and one can believe that Haute Cuisine is well and alive when the feuillete de truffe is served at L’Ambroisie. Cooked to order and encased in a buttery home made pastry, sits a whole truffle of about 200 grams (for two people) cut in two and, in the middle, a very flavorful thick piece of duck foie gras. The foie gras does not dominate the dish, but this dish is perhaps the ultimate expression of the incomparably smoky and minerally taste of black Perigord truffles supplied by Monssieur Pebeyre to the restaurant. When you cut the pastry in two, an intoxicating aroma fills the room and all heads turn towards your table in the small room, and Monsieur Pascal who serves the dish is rightly proud and equally concerned that if we worship the aroma far too long we may do a disservice to this exquisite creation of nature. Alas, all good things end…but memories linger at least.

It is hard to keep the momentum alive after the last dish (or any main course at L’Ambroisie if you listen to advice and give free rein to the chef to concoct a meal for you to experience the crescendo effect), so having the cheese course before the dessert is highly recommended. The restaurant buys cheese from Alleosse, and I was more than content that day with an exceptional, fully ripe St. Marcellin, a three years aged Swiss Fribourg which is on par with a Comte from the great Bernard Anthony and an artisanal Roquefort to finish.

Pascal also intelligently chose for us a fruit dessert to finish, and the long poached and sliced pears served with the sable tarte (like a millefeuille) filled with pear sorbet was the ideal taste cleanser and a very good dessert in its own terms. Pacaud also prepares a great sable au chocolat and if you do not order cheese, I recommend you try it to see how a chocolate based dessert can be made so intense and light at the same time.

It is hard for me to be unbiased about the quality of service at L’Ambroisie as I have interacted for some time with both Monsieur Lemoullac and Monsieur Pascal and they have become friends. But what strikes me most after so many visits is how gracious the whole experience of dining there is, and how smoothly things flow there. I always grin at people and establishments who take themselves too seriously and who mistake lack of fun and good humour for professionalism. Good humour and wit, on the other hand, exhibit an underlying intelligence and good will. I found these qualities to be quite pronounced at L’Ambroisie compared to the other Michelin three stars in France, and the absence of turnover among the staff may indicate that there exists an esprit de corps among the employees of this institution.

Finally, I would like to add a word on the wine list. I trust Monsieur Lemoullac to choose best matches within a price range as I found his palette to be in synch with mine. For instance, during the last visit I have summarized here, he chose a 1995 Leroy Auxey Duresse “Les Boutonniers” and a 1993 Trapet Gevrey Chambertin. The former was silky, smooth and clean with some agrumes notes and a touch sweet/spicy (my notes indicate anise and nutmeg) finish. It was an excellent match for the first two courses. The Gevrey was truthful to its terroir and also displayed the red fruit characteristics of this vintage which I like very much. The week before, again finishing with the feuillete of truffle dish, Monsieur Lemoullac has suggested a 1996 Pomerol, Petit Village. This wine had tremendous balance and good depth, and an intriguing mineral backbone which was even a more perfect match with Perigord truffles. At any rate wine pricing at L’Ambroisie is always fair, and I still recall how Pierre Lemoullac had liked the 85 Sassicaia and offered it on the list for about $100 before this wine became “Parkerized”, and its price went through the roof in wine auctions and all the remaining bottles were depleted. It is also commendable that, unlike many other French sommeliers, Monsieur Lemoullac is not prejudiced against other wines (or cuisines) and this is certainly another indicator of the self-confidence that this institution exhibits.

Gastroville ranking:19.5/20 VM