Stephen Jackson

Wow. Thanks for the update. I've never tasted roe like that before - it was so very crunchy. Nice to see that, on occasion, nature really can come up with the goods...

ElBulli, August 20, 2007 Apologies in advance for length. I figure if you’re interested you’ll want as much detail as possible. OK, here goes. Last year I managed to get myself a reservation at elBulli. Several faxes and emails were fired at the restaurant from mid-October onwards, and I was deliberately ambiguous, asking for a table at ANY TIME in the 2007 season. The weeks passed, no reply. Nothing. I checked the fax cables. I tested my email. I was grumpy. Then in December, an email arrived offering me a table for two in August. Remaining calm, I replied that I’d take the table, and I booked my flights almost immediately. And the day before yesterday, we set off to Roses, via Barcelona. Now, hotels-wise, Roses isn’t exactly Monte-Carlo. Last time I went to elBulli I stayed at La Terraza, which is a pleasant enough place on the beach by the old sea fort, but in August they (understandably) don’t like short-stay reservations. So, the only place we could find was the Prestige Mar Y Sol hotel, right in the middle of the town, just by the beach. And y’know, it’s not bad at all. It’s an apart-hotel, so the rooms are big, and there’s a fridge, which is handy. Good TV, reasonably comfortable beds, really BAD breakfasts. Honestly, the coffee tasted like Mellow Birds that had been set to reduce gently in April. Avoid. However, the attached restaurant is a very pleasant seafood joint, and I had one of the nicest grilled lobsters I’ve had in ages. The folks split a turbot, which was quiveringly fresh and grilled before our eyes in the corner of the dining room. We drank a smashing petillant rosé called Cresta Rosa, which was just the thing for seafood – light, crisp, tasty and cheap. It was one of *those* places, where there’s a merry sound of amiable chatter mixed with the clink of glasses, and the room enveloped in that sweet fug of grilling seafood, zested lemons and warm Mediterranean air. Recommended. The next day provided a challenging 18 holes at the Pitch & Putt in Empuriabrava (beautifully manicured greens, and some tricky water shots on the second nine), and a trip to the Butterfly Park, which is always fun. Some absolute whoppers flitting around, including a couple of awesome Atlas Moths, still wrinkly from their cocoons. Massive, they are. Not the sort of thing you’d like bumping into your bedside lamp, I can assure you. Then came the evening, and we headed off in our cab to elBulli. Situated a few miles around the steep coastline, it’s about 25 minutes from Roses, or 15 minutes if you happen to pick the lunatic cab-driver we did. He actually genuflected as we headed out of the suburbs and up into the stunning scenery of the wild pine-strewn hills and coves. Arriving at elBulli is a very exciting thing indeed. You enter the building, which is an unassuming yet beautiful beach villa, set amongst pines, and built of thinly-stacked slate-like stone, and smooth white plaster. Julio Soler, the “director”, shakes your hand, and invites you through to the kitchen. Here, a waiter shows you around a bit. We met the man himself, Ferran Adria, who wished us a pleasant meal, and then we were shown back outside onto the terrace. What followed was about 2 ½ hours of unremitting genius, and I think to do it justice I’ll stop all the travelogue bullshit and simply list what we ate, with a few side-notes. Firstly, we’re asked what we’d like to drink, and if anyone has any special requests or allergies. This having been established, our Cava arrived, along with the first ‘course’. Off we go… 1) Hibiscus Maragarita – a chilled martini glass filled with a deep, viscous hibiscus juice (I think there was pomegranate juice in there too), into which the waitress spooned a bright pink hibiscus ‘meringue’ – basically a freeze-dried puree of slightly salty hibiscus. It was nice and sour, and kicked off proceedings nicely. 2) Virtual Olives – Now these were fantastic. Olive-sized gelatine spheres, filled with a green olive purée and olive oil, scooped from a parfait jar where they’d been infused with thyme and garlic. The things popped on the tongue with minimal pressure, filling the mouth with an intense olive hit. Wow. 3) Golden Nuggets – A truffle-sized golden shape was handed to us to be eaten in one go – it was a few cubes of a crunchy parmesan foam wrapped in gold-leaf-flecked caramel. The flavour took a long time to come, but when it did, the jolt of cheese was intense. 4) Goat Cheese “Mercedes” – I ate this without photographing it – sorry guys. Basically it was a minuscule filo pastry tartlet filled with a powerful sheep’s cheese cream and with a tiny marigold (I think) flower on top. Such a brilliant reduction of flavour. 5) Crunchy Olive – this was a freeze-dried black olive foam in the shape of an olive, topped with a little dusting of what tasted like scallop powder. A bit odd, and, I thought, slightly burnt-tasting. 6) Beetroot and Yoghurt Meringue – 4 large freeze-dried ‘meringues’ of slightly sweetened beetroot purée which exploded in the mouth, yielding a deeply vegetal beetroot flavour. 7) Salty Macadamia – A large truffle-like shape, containing a huge fresh macadamia nut, surrounded by barely-sweetened chocolate and bitter cocoa dusting. Really strong, dark flavours. 8) Salty Chocolate – Amazing. Wafer-thin mini-bars of chocolate. One white chocolate with yoghurt (and something really tingly and sharp, like citric acid crystals), one dark with pureed crispy blackcurrants, and one made with pistachio. All of them very tasty, and surprisingly good with the savoury elements so far. We were now led inside, to our table. The interior of elBulli is hugely incongruous with the space-food that’s served here. OK, the tables are beautifully laid-out, with a large white platter in front of each guest, a Riedel water goblet and a sinlge rose in a plain vase. The napery is thick and soft. But the rooms themselves are filled with amazing tat. To our right was a glass-doored cupboard containing a selection of the most appalling pottery bulldogs. It was like they’d got grandma in to decorate the place. And everywhere one looks, there’s an odd chair, a gaudy cushion, a knick-knack. Very odd. I fully expected there to be a print of the ‘Green Lady’ lurking on a wall somewhere. At the very least, a large stuffed donkey wearing a sombrero. Still, I spent 90% of the time staring incredulously at my plate for the rest of the evening, so the unusual décor wasn’t really a concern. 9) Tangerine Bonbon, Peanut & Curry – Sorry again, I got carried away and ate the peanut/curry thing before remembering to use the camera. This was the first of the truly stunning flavour combinations of the evening. A smooth, super-rich peanut purée set into the thinnest coating of curry-flavoured chocolate (well, I say chocolate, because it had all the texture of chocolate, and kind of melted the same way, but strangely there was no sense that it actually WAS chocolate). And to be eaten straight after this, a cube of the same chocolate-y stuff, filled with a chilled mandarin juice. The taste left in the mouth after these two tiny bites was amazing. 10) Pistachios With Honey & Roquefort – A small spoon arrived in which sat three beautiful plump green pistachio nuts resting in a blob of warmed honey, topped with a tiny cube of Roquefort. Gulp. In it goes. Wow – the intensity of the salty cheese faded gently to allow the honey and the nuts to follow through marvellously. So simple, so delicious. My mind is racing. 11) Pistachio Sponge & Milk Mousse – Two of the now-familiar lyophilised (freeze-dried) crispy sponge things, this time flavoured with pistachio. To one side, a simple acidic milk foam to be spooned onto each sponge and popped into the mouth in one go. Sparkly flavours. Each course seems to draw a line – it’s like an endless parade of palate cleansers. The woman behind us tries to eat hers in two goes. Big mistake. Dry cleaners tomorrow. 12) Sesame ‘Brioche’ with Miso – The next WOW dish. A cone-shaped cloud of jet-black ‘bread’, smeared with a little intense miso paste. I go for it in one go. The hit of black sesame is truly astonishing, the miso just adding some welcome salt from the ‘umami tsunami’. (I should copyright that one) It’s quite simply one of the best things I’ve ever had in my mouth. After that I’ll need something sharp and clean. Oh look, here it comes… 13) Raspberry Fondant & Vinegar – Another brilliant dish. A single fat raspberry, perfectly ripe, coated in a thin veil of fondant icing, and with a tiny point of horseradish paste on top. To the left, a teaspoonful of raspberry vinegar. The idea is to eat half of the raspberry, slurp the vinegar, and finish the fruit. Brilliant. Raspberries and horseradish. Who’dathunkit? I’m seeing a fillet of oily fish with this combination in my mind’s eye. Genius combination. 14) Tiger Nut Milk Flowers – A frozen tray is proffered, on which sit 4 delicate ‘flowers’ made of frozen tiger nut milk (Horxata, a traditional summer drink). We are advised to grab them quickly and eat them straight away. They melt away to nothing instantly, leaving a clean, almondy flavour in the mouth. Smashing. Nice techniques at work, too. 15) Oysters & Yoghurt, PX Tempura – a glass espresso cup of chilled oyster soup, topped with a delicate lemony foam. To be drunk in one shot, we’re advised. Wow! A hit of fresh seawater, with the milky citric taste following through. To one side, a tiny tempura-fried oval of PX sherry jelly. Brilliant juxtaposition of texture and temperature. By now, everyone in the room is smiling like a loon. This is FUN. 16) Haricot Bean With Joselito Ham – Another absolute belter. In a shiny bowl sit two ‘virtual’ haricot beans (more of the gel-capsule technology, this time filled with an intense bean puree) sitting in a delicious broth redolent of the slightly thickened brine one gets tinned beans in. Topping this were slivers of Joselito’s award-winning jamon. It’s brilliant stuff – almost liquefied fat and teneder meat, translucent and heady. To one side, a skewer of Korean black garlic – soft and chewy, with a slight garlic-y flavour, but smooth and wonderfully complementary. 17) Cashews & Yoghurt – After all that savoury, this came as a truly refreshing change. A little yoghurt foam, some Szechuan pepper flowers and a caramelised cashew nut (like all the nuts that night, huge and as fresh as a daisy). Into the bowl was spooned a frozen powder of cashews (made in the Pacojet machine) which melted on the tongue. Lovely. 18) Fig Soup With Its Own Fat – Funny one, this. Thinly sliced fig flesh (although the red centre with the seeds had been removed) with a kind of virtual ham fat (some form of alginate or gelatine), a little fig foam, a tiny bonbon of sherry vinegar and some fennel pollen. Now for me, this was a bit of a dud. The faux fat was interesting, but the figs tasted of very little, and the fennel pollen muscled in a bit too much. 19) Gorgonzola Shell, Celery, Walnut, Apple – Perhaps the star of the show. A thin, frozen dome of Gorgonzola cheese, under which sat a celery foam, with cubes of apple, and toasted walnuts. The effect was rather like licking a Waldorf Salad ice-cream. Utterly brilliant in both flavour and execution. 20) Polenta Gnocchi With Coffee – A bowl of tiny ‘virtual’ gnocchi, just set on the outside, with liquid polenta within, dusted with toasted coffee and a tiny amount of ‘yuba’ beancurd with super-intense saffron. Very delicate flavours at play here, with the faintest whiff of cheese in the polenta. 21) Fresh Walnuts – Curious. A bowl filled with a delicious, salty, sheep’s milk cheese liquid, and on one side, some of the freshest, palest green walnuts, with a few thyme flowers. On the other side, an evil-tasting syrupy walnut liqueur (British readers may think of Benylin at this time) which ruined the otherwise clean, clear flavours for me. A shame. I have never eaten nuts so fresh. 22) Ackees Ravioli – Brilliant. Back on track. Three delicious ‘raviolis’, the ‘pasta’ made from gelled meat stock, wrapped around poached ackee, with ackee leaf shoots (very succulent and astringent) and a hefty shaving of white truffle. Amazing, and really, truly delicious. 23) Razor Clams & Seaweed – Two colossal razor clam meats, barely cooked, served with a little briny foam and fronds of various seaweeds, with a little summer savory adding a nice herby touch. Not my favourite, as I found the texture of the clams a little hard-going at such a cool temperature, but it tasted like the freshest sea-water, and reminded me how much I miss my scuba-diving. 24) “Fiduea” Of Mushrooms With Clams – A brilliant humorous take on the Catalan speciality ‘Fiduea’, which is essentially a paella made with noodles instead of rice. This version used tiny strands of mushroom (it says Shimensi on my menu, but I’d swear they were enoki) in a strong shellfish-y broth, with a little seaweed and some tiny fingernail-sized clams (Donax). These clams were delightful, sweet little things, ice-cold against the hot, rich, savoury mushrooms. 25) Sea Cucumbers With Roe & Seaweeds – Stunning. Three little ‘envelopes’ of sea cucumber, filled with the tiniest ‘virtual’ seafood-flavoured roe (presumably made in the same way as the famed fake fruit caviars), alongside two tasty folds of sea-lettuce with samphire. Nice. 26) Eel & Custardapple – A thick-ish unsweetened ‘custard’ of cherimoya, atop which sat a single piece of fresh eel (still nicely jellified, East-End readers please note), and two tiny cubes of caramel-coated foie gras. All very nice, but a bit timid, flavour-wise. 27) Hare Juice – The ‘main course’!!! – A fabulous gellan-y jelly of apple (fading from deep red to clear in the centre), around which sat some tiny capers. A pan of rich, intense hare ‘gravy’ was poured around. This reminded me so much of my dad’s excellent bunny stew, which he was chuffed to hear. He agreed, and pointed out that a beef bone is the key to a good rabbit concoction. This was great, though, all rich and gamey, and absolutely the perfect way to bid adieu to the savoury part of the menu. Brows mopped, collars loosened, we are given several minutes’ grace to get ready for the desserts. 28) “The Wool 2007” – This was bloody magnificent. As a lover of really good Bourbon, this was like a glass of George T. Stagg, taken apart and put back together again. Under a slightly toasted ball of candyfloss sat some pieces of crunchy vanilla meringue, and a smear of bourbon-barrel syrup. This was the most wonderful woody flavour. A bit like tasty varnish. The whole thing was dynamite. 29) “Coquito” – Hilarious course, this one. A ‘virtual’ coconut, which was a smashing dense buttery coconut ‘macaroon’ in the shape of a coconut, coated in a little cocoa to give the desired effect, and ‘smashed’, then served with a chilled glass of clear, fresh coconut water. 30) Banana – A nice finish – a frozen ‘banana’ made of something with a texture similar to kulfi, atop some date flesh, accompanied by an intense banana sauce and some crunchy vaguely-liquorice-y things, similar to amaretti. 31) “Morphings” - A couple of morphings accompanied our coffees (and my excellent 21 YO Bowmore) – a strawberry topped with a ‘pearl’ filled with reduced balsamic vinegar, and then we were handed a large truffle-shaped object each, and told to scoff it in one go. It had a frozen centre, then a chibouste-type cream, then the thinnest crispy coasting and cocoa around that. It reminded me of a Toffee Crisp. It was ace. To drink, we had a couple of glasses of Agusti Torello’s Gran Reserva Cava, our white wine was a straight Xarel.lo from Pardas in Penedes, and our red was a magnificent Bierzo from Bodegas Estefania. With dessert I drank a glass of a most excellent PX, put in cask when I was only a year old, made by Toro Albala. And there we go. It’s all over…. The taxi arrived, we said cheerio, and off we sailed into the night, happy as anything. It really is a wonderful place, and the food is utterly extra-ordinary. A few things didn’t work for me, but the majority were excellent, and a couple were simply astounding. The photos should be here, in order, starting with that massive moth. http://www.flickr.com/photos/11917848@N07/...57601603256727/ Yer details: http://www.prestigehotels.com/portal/Prest...Roses/mar-y-sol http://www.hotelterraza.com/ http://www.butterflypark.es/paginas_ING/principal.htm

Go on, then. Sorry I've not been around for a while; we've been actually quite busy here, which makes a change. Firstly, when preparing my slices of foie gras, I generally trim away as much of the visible sinew as possible with the point of a fish-trimmimg knife. There's usually an easily-removed knot between the two lobes. I don't, however, bother to go drilling into the 'meat', though. Secondly, my only excuse is that I wasn't on duty that night. Of all nights for Jan Moir to visit, she picked one of my rare nights off. I imagine that as she was digesting her disappointing foie gras, I was pogoing furiously to the sounds of the Pixies at Alexandra Palace in London. One simply does not pass up those opportunities. I imagine that the chef who prepped the foie gras that night simply forgot to de-vein her liver, which is a shame. Since the review, we've undertaken a root and branch foie gras de-veining symposium, and everyone got a gold star. It won't happen again!

The menu is a great idea for a first-time diner, particularly a hungry one. After that, i prefer to tone things down and go for the carte. I've noticed from looking around that the menu dishes are ever so slightly smaller, but not drastically. You should definitely try the gargouillou - it's a one-off (although Trama's veg platter was also incredibly good) and anything 'roti a la braise', which is pretty much all the red meat. I've had cotes de boeuf and veau, and the lamb, and all were impeccably-timed, well-hung, deeply tasty bits of meat. And try a coulant for dessert, preferably the chocolate one in whatever form it takes. They are superb. Service-wise, a couple of years back when they refitted the dining room, we had pretty poor service - they were so busy; we didn't mind much - we can please ourselves quite happily, but for a newcomer it might have been annoying. perhaps they were trying to make the 3-michelin collectors happy to the expense of us regulars - a fault, but nothing worth ripping one's hair out about. This last visit saw the smooth, friendly service return, and it was one of my more memorable meals chez Bras.

The traces of sauce merely act as seasoning - minuscule brushstrokes of sauces and powders, not in the least bit dominating. If anything, I think the most redundant part of the dish is the ham, frankly. I've been going to Bras for so long now, that I rarely take the menu option. If we take new guests, we sometimes try the big 'Decouverte et nature' tasting menu.

My Bras review is finally up, folks. Enjoy.

Michel Bras, Laguiole A smashing drive across country from Puymirol got us to Laguiole mid-afternoon. I love driving up to Michel Bras – like an overexcited puppy, I’m almost leaning out of the car window, straining my eyes to see how early I can spot the impressive restaurant perched high above the village on the Puech du Suquet. And what a bonus; there was still some snow dusting the highest slopes – it was all very magical. Fortunately, I’d managed to wangle the wonderful room 11 – it’s on its own, with unforgettable views on two sides of the immense white room. And what views – you get the feeling you can see all the way to the coast from up there. Today, however, was a big weather day – I’ve seen some terrifying storms from here before, and today’s snowstorm was unbelievable. You’re always right ‘in’ the weather at Bras – the clouds often descend below the hotel- and we spent a pleasant hour watching the snow hammer down from clouds no more than 50M above us. Electrifying, and certainly a unique appetiser. So to dinner. In the bar, we took our seats and ordered drinks from the apero menu. Tracy had a petillant Mauzac Vert from Robert Plageoles (one of our favourite winemakers in Gaillac) – very raw, apple-y wine – a perfect enlivener. I went for my usual, the ‘fraicheur de racines’ drink – a powerful, bitter concoction of gentian and liquorice. As in recent years, the amuses are almost the same as usual – a ‘coque-mouillette’ followed by a small tartlet of ceps. The coque-mouillete is a warm, whisked bantam egg, poured back into the shell, topped with a little herb foam, and served with a thick finger of toasted bread. An accompanying ‘note’ from the chef explains the magic of ‘dipping the bread’, and anyone from the UK will know the pleasures of boiled egg and soldiers. Such fun, and a great way to start the meal. The cep tartlet is so simple, yet totally satisfying – wafer-thin puff pastry, smeared with a little chestnut puree and topped with thin slivers of baby cep mushrooms, baked golden. Unforgettable. Suddenly, our favourite sommelier appeared. Sergio Calderon is one of the nicest people on the planet, a terrific wine waiter, and always happy to see us. He presides over one of the most original cellars I’ve ever seen, full of wondrous bottles from all over the world, and an exceptional Languedoc-Roussillon section. I placed myself entirely in his capable hands this time, and he chose exceptional wine for us. The white was one of the best Sancerres I have ever tasted, The ‘Clos la Neore’ 2002 from Edmond Vatan. It’s a razor-sharp sauvignon and comes in one of the best looking bottles I’ve ever seen. Beautiful stuff. For the red, we were offered a Faugeres 2001 from Domaine Leon Barral. Huge wine. Really tasty, and with loads of terroir character. A table, mes enfants! The table was, as usual, impeccably set with Laguiole cutlery, and the ever-present rye crispbread, which always goes down a treat. As in recent years, the amuse-gueules come in the form of three spoons of different delights, to be scoffed in one go. Amuse 1 – a little bulghur wheat with lemon confit and cauliflower Amuse 2 – poached rabbit with emerald greens and a light mustard foam Amuse 3 – A tiny piece of crisp red mullet with a light puree of navet turnip All three were delicious, sparkling with flavour and absolutely wonderful visually. First Course: Me: The ‘gargouillou’ of baby vegetables with sprouting grains and wild leaves. - An early season version, this, with dozens of different vegetables, all cooked perfectly, with a thin tranche of cooked mountain ham and flickers of olive oil cream, red and yellow pepper purees and vinegar syrup. Every mouthful different, zingly fresh – unforgettable. I’d wanted to try this again for so many years, and decided that I’d go for it this time. So glad. Tracy: Foie Gras with ‘Crapaudine’ Beetroot. -Unbelievable. This was served on a black slate, and quite simply presented itself as almost half of a duck foie, quivering on top of thick slices of ‘crapaudine’, and a little slick of reduced wine (presuming it was Banyuls). There was so much foie gras, we both burst out laughing – Tracy is forever observing my portion control regarding foie gras when we’re in the kitchen. I do tend to ‘supersize’ if not supervised! The liver was cooked to utter perfection, with a nice golden crust on the outside, and meltingly soft to the centre. Bread arrived, and kept coming all night – just a simple ‘pain de campagne’ roll – chewy and satisfying, especially loaded with the delicious demi-sel butter they serve. Main Course: Both: The ‘Cote de Boeuf’ of Aubrac Beef, spit-roasted and served with chard, garlic and bacon fat. -We’d prepared for this. Having shared one of these behemoths on several occasions, we knew that we were going to be eating a whole load of meat, and little else. In previous years, it pretty much amounted to the top and bottom cuts of the cote on the plate, rare as hell, with a few gently-poached chard stems and leaves and a little pool of fluffy buttery foam enlivened with garlic and bacon fat. No change here. The beef was excellent, truly one of the great pieces of meat I’ve ever eaten, and possibly the best I’ve had chez Bras. Perhaps nothing will ever surpass the Aubrac steak I had at Ducasse in Monaco, but this was getting dangerously close. We paced ourselves, sipping wine and water, and eventually made it to the end. Now normally, at this point the waiter brings out the big bowl of Aligot, with which to soak up all the delicious juices. No sign of it. We had cleared our plates. Off they went into the kitchen…..and out came two more platefuls of beef. About half as much again, with a whole-roast medium-sized onion, and a little more fluffy sauce. Cue the second burst of laughter that evening. We had to at least try. And both of us did admirably, I reckon. THEN the aligot appeared, and, well, you have to be courteous, don’t you? I scoffed the lot. As my trousers threatened to explode across the dining room, the cheese trolley was wheeled up, and I suddenly got my second wind. I fancied a bit of cheese. T and I shared a small plate of St. Nectaire, Perail and a fine mature Roquefort, with a Sergio-suggested glass of 100% Carignan from the Domaine d’Aupilhac. A fine pairing. So to dessert. Quite possible THE hardest menu choice I’ve ever had to make. With absolutely no exceptions, I could have chosen any of the dozen or so puds. Unbelievable appetising, innovative dishes all. Me: Apple poached with quince and caramel, caramel and salted butter ice-cream, croquant Smashing. This was a whole apple, peeled into a single thick slice, poached gently in quince/caramel syrup, and rolled around a crunchy apple caramel croquant, then topped with a small blob of the most delicious creamy, salty ice cream. Great finish. T: A ‘sandwich’ of potato, cream and beetroot. I know, I know. What can I say? The wife loves beetroot. Anyway, this was a remix of a dish from last year. A 6” by 8” ‘sandwich’ of crispy corrugated potato slices sprinkled with demerara crystals, surrounding a rich chantilly and slice upon slice of sweet poached beetroot. A nightmare to eat delicately, but what fun! T said it was a little ‘too’ savoury, but very good nonetheless. Sergio came up trumps again, with a couple of perfect dessert wines – for me, a delightful Muscat Cap Corse 2000 from Domaine Gentile, and for T, a fine Banyuls from Domaine Mas Blanc. A small plate of nibbles arrived at the same time – two little choc-ices made with wild fennel and elderflower, a little saffron and apple sandwich, a (really unpleasant) orange-poached frozen apple lollipop (I think it was the variety of apple used – it tasted mouldy) and a pretty poor banana and lemon cheesecake slice. Bit disappointing. By this time, I was getting antsy for a smoke, so we headed to the lounge again, and took coffee and digestifs. T had a smashing old Chartreuse (Sergio’s favourite) and I managed a healthy slug of Macallan 1991. The petits-fours have changed slightly this year – the ‘liqueur de lait’ now floats above a clear, intense strawberry syrup, and the chocolate pot has boozy raisins in it. Yummy. One of the best meals I’ve had chez Bras – the service was on top form, and the wine and food complemented each other impeccably. Oh, almost forgot. Just before we started dessert, Sergio appeared with a polaroid camera, quickly snapped us, and made for the kitchen. seconds later, he presented us with the picture, mounted on a card, written by Michel, thanking us both for 10 years of support. We became misty-eyed. Michel Bras’ place is, for us, something a little bit special, our favourite bolt-hole. We feel welcome and relaxed, and it’s always evolving. If you’ve not been, go. Go soon. It is magic.

Les Loges de l’Aubergade, Puymirol My wife and I spent an excellent day in the Agen region, zipping around the Garonne valley spotting the plum trees and looking for a farm that sold the famous Pruneaux d’Agen. Mission accomplished – we found the Ferme Roques in Montesquieu, which had a small prune ‘supermarket’ attached. Duly stocked up on ‘fresh’ mi-cuits, eau-de-vie and chocolate-coated pruneaux, we hit the road towards Puymirol, about 20 minutes east of Agen, in order to get to l’Aubergade good and early. I like to get my money’s worth with Michelin joints; lie on the beds watching BBC World, taking long baths and eating the freebies. Puymirol is a beautiful bastide-type village, perched scenically on a hill, and the Aubergade is right on the main street. It’s an impressive building, beautifully restored, with the bedrooms looking out over a small former courtyard that now boasts a wee swimming pool. The welcome was warm, and we were told that, as they were quiet, we’d been upgraded to a tip-top room, on the ground floor, right by the pool. It was lovely – really airy and spacious, with all the mod cons one would expect – satellite TV, CD player, jacuzzi-bath and ample clothes-hanging space for those that value such things. I helped myself to a very good drop of Maury (Gerard Bertrand – a fine chap) from the small decanter, and watched a new pope get elected on the telly. It was all going so well. And so it continued. We walked through to the salon – a beautiful pale stone drawing room, with painted beamed ceiling, and luxurious soft furnishings – and sat by the roaring log fire. It was cold that evening, which is a shame, as there is a second courtyard which is used for dining in the more clement months of the year. So, here goes: The sommelier (lovely guy, very open and friendly) asks about drinks – Tracy orders a Sauvignon Blanc, I order a fino sherry. Two rectangular plates arrive, with our nibbles. Nibble 1 – A glass of foamy sheep’s milk with tiny diced cucumber – SO refreshing, really sheepy. Way to start! Nibble 2 – A spoon with a piped rosette of smooth, zesty avocado puree on top of a piece of poached spider crab – really meaty crab flesh marrying with the super-ripe deep green avocado. Yummy. I could have asked for a sandwich with this in it at that point. Nibble 3 – A tiny crispy sandwich of pureed salmon roe between thin tuile-like biscuits. Super-salty and really fishy (in a nice way). Big bowl of those, please. Nibble 4 – A toffee-apple cherry tomato. A really ripe cherry tom, dipped in caramel (so thinly coated) and topped with a tiny sprig of rosemary, which made the thing work so well – I had never really tried rosemary with tomato in a raw sense, and it was marvellous. So to the big stuff – the menu was loaded with dishes I’d have loved to try – almost everything appealed to us. There were separate sheets listing the menus (a Menu du Marche at 76Euro, an 8-course tasting menu at 140Euro, and a list of dishes from ‘The Atelier’ de M. Trama, which I presume were special brand-new dishes – almost works in progress) We went A La Carte. I nearly always do. Bypassing delicious sounding things like the ‘foie gras lollipops with toasted hazelnuts’ and ‘lamb’s sweetbreads with morels and asparagus’, we made our choices. So to the dining room. Wow – it’s one of the most beautiful rooms I’ve ever eaten in. A high-ceilinged pale stone chamber with alcoves, minimalist yet classy chandeliers, and most of the seating on two-seater Louis XVI-type sofas or plush chairs. The tables were set cleanly and minimally, the lighting was perfect. The one thing that put us off was the terrible muzak that was being piped into the quiet room (we were two of only eight diners that night! Which, we were told, was pretty much average for this time of year. They didn’t seem unduly worried about it. However, Michel Bras was full to busting the very next night – peculiar) The amusette: a cornet of sea-bream tartare with wasabi cream – an unbelievably delicate sweet tuile biscuit, barely containing a fresh, lip-smacking tartare of bream, topped with a super-tasty creamy foam of powerful wasabi. This was stunning. First Course: Me: ‘Les Tours De Pomme De Terre Au caviar Oscietre, macération de Ciboulette’ Eight tubes of potato at differing heights, made of thin, crisp potato slices, surrounding creamy potato puree, topped with blobs of caviar, and a few traces of intense chive oil. Sensational – the potato tubes were crispy and light, the puree airy and creamy, the caviar lendng the whole thing that unforgettable flavour, and the chive oil doing its thing regarding seasoning the dish perfectly. Yummy. Tracy: ‘Tous Les Legumes du Jardin Dans l’Assiette a la fleur de Sel’ Essentially, a plate of vegetables, but so fresh and tasty. Similar to Bras’ ‘gargouillou’, but with a few more ‘homely’ veg knocking about on the plate. Crisp slices of dried beetroot, asparagus spears, chard stalks and leaves, peas, broad beans, broccoli, cauliflower, all cooked to crunchy perfection, and seasoned judiciously with crunchy salt. To one side there was a spoon containing an intense ratatouille-flavoured warm dressing – really intense tomato and red/yellow pepper flavours. Lovely stuff. The bread arrived in a glass pot, and was exceptional – grissini that tasted like brioche, and two small ‘campagne’ loaves, one flavoured heavily with sesame oil, and one with tender sunflower seeds. With this we drank a smashing Irouleguy 2000 from Domaine Arretxea, an old friend. Okay, to the Main Courses: Me: ‘Le Hamburger de Foie Gras Chaud Aux Cepes, Jus De Canard Corsé’ Trama’s sig dish, and I simply had to do it. It was terrific. The waiter announced it as ‘Le McTrama’, and it really does look like a burger on the plate. It’s essentially a huge cep cap, roast nice and golden, covering two massive slices of perfectly-done goose liver, and the base is (bizarrely) a piece of fried pineapple. I hadn’t expected that, but it works well, the fruitiness and sharpness stopping the whole thing from bringing on a coronary. The plate also held a trace of reduced balsamic, a healthy splash of super-intense duck jus, and the burger was topped with a few crisp shards of crisp ivory-coloured fried garlic. Then the waiter offered me a Trama-labelled sauce bottle, containing a rich cep ketchup. If I could have slid it into my trouser pocket, I would have. Sadly they don’t sell this in the little shop. A really great dish, and everything that I like in a plateful of food – interest, intense flavour and a bit of a chuckle occasionally. Tracy: ‘L’Agneau Roti Au thym, Beurre de Persil Simple’ This sounded so absolutely perfect, she had to try it. On the plate, two scarily tiny racks of baby lamb (I say scary, because my wife used to work on a sheep farm, and she judged these racks to be from an almost unborn lamb, size-wise. Didn’t stop her scoffing the lot, mind) These racks were superbly cooked, meaning barely, drizzled with a tasty lamb-thyme jus, and sitting on a delicious pool of parsley butter. The additions were equally impressive – a little pot of coco beans, half whole, half pureed; really creamy and smooth. A little pot of braised sweetbreads, topped with a skewer of the kidneys (such tiny kidneys!) and the final touch was bloody amazing, yet so simple – two wedges of spinach-filled croque-monsieur. Great idea, which I’m nicking off him on my next menu. A great way to soak up all the juices, really tasty and simple. Bravo. With the mains we drank a corking ’99 Cahors, Clos Triguedina ‘Prince Probus’ (oo-er). Delicious, and perfect with our respective meat feasts. Now. Here’s something. They don’t do cheese. We went straight into dessert. No cheese! Well, I had to ask, didn’t I? To be honest, I’d have probably not partaken on the night in question, but I did wonder what was going on. The maitre d’ said that this was simply the way of Trama. They DO have a cheese trolly, but it only comes out if people specifically request it. Otherwise, the experience of l’Aubergade is to eat as Trama sees fit, and this seemingly doesn’t involve a cheese course. How rum. But how ‘balls-out-f**k-you’ brave, I also thought. Didn’t bother me one bit, and it made for an exciting few minutes’ conversation before the puds hove into view. Me: ‘le Double Corona Trama, Sa Feuille De Tabac Au Poivre’ The classic Trama pudding (apart from the other ‘classic’ apple cristalline. This was served in an ashtray (a nice big glass one, not a mucky old plastic Gauloises pot, you understand). The ‘cigar’ itself was a rolled biscuit filled with a coffee-tobacco chibouste cream, and alongside was a tuile tobacco leaf scented with coarse pepper (yum), a tiny glass of cold strong coffee (not so nice) and a ‘spent’ match made of white chocolate. I have to say I was underwhelmed by the flavours, and it felt a little gimmicky, unlike the hamburger, but it was nice enough to eat, and faultlessly put together. Tracy: ‘La larme de Chocolat Aux Griottines, sauce Vanille’ Yet another Trama classis, a well-tempered chocolate ‘teardrop’, filled with a rich mousse containing booze-soaked griottine cherries. A small jug of really good crème anglaise accompanied this. It was pronounced to be good, but nothing special. So the puds had knocked the 5th star off, for us. It had, however, been a truly exceptional meal, with friendly, helpful, witty staff, a great wine list, the most amazing surroundings, and even Trama himself popped out to say ‘how do’. Nice man, very quiet. He seemed genuinely chuffed when I mentioned how long I’d waited for this meal, and how I hadn’t been disappointed at all. I decided against a cigar with my coffee, but apparently the humidor at l’Aubergade is legendary in its quality and quantity. Instead we finished off the meal with some nice Petits-fours, a Talisker (me), a Vieille Prune (T) and a couple of espressos. The mignardises were: a really good cannelé scented with orange, a chestnut/cream profiterole and a little bar of bitter chocolate. And so to bed, safe in the knowledge that the Catholic Church had a new boss, and I had a big wobbly tummy full of terrific food. Slept like the dead, and awoke to a really good breakfast of pastries, cherry jam and chantilly cream, and a pot of good coffee. We paid up (770Euros for the whole caboodle), said we’d definitely we’d be back, and hit the road, en route for Laguiole, and that evening’s stay/meal at Michel Bras, our favourite place on earth. My review of that is forthcoming. Les Loges de l’Aubergade is a great, great restaurant. Well worth a trip, and it’s only a couple of hours from Pau airport if you step on it (and if you don’t take a detour to buy too much Madiran at Chateau d’Aydie! like we did. I couldn’t resist – their 100% Tannat dessert wine, called ‘Maydie’ is absolutely brilliant. Word.)

Thanks everybody. I think it was the Oblatentorte. Not sure of the maker, but it's certainly got me going in the right direction!

Afternoon, all. Today, at lunchtime here in the restaurant, one of our guests had a wonderful-looking tin of Austrian wafer biscuits, which apparently are quite famous. They are circular (about 5" in diameter, I'd say), and are made of wafers sandwiching praline. They come from a famous patisserie (which I believe is also a pastry school) near Salzburg, and which also does a famous chocolate Stollen. The tin was silvery metal, with black and white print on the lid. I'm kicking myself for not noting down the name of these biscuits or the manufacturer. I'm now unhealthily obesessed with finding them online. Can anyone help?

Yeah, been back almost a week now, hard at work. We lost our long-serving sous-chef last month (he's quitting the trade to teach catering - fed up of the hours) and have decided to share the workload instead of getting a new chef in. I'm actually having to get my hands dirty again, which is refreshing. We're also just about to do a complete re-fit of the dining room, after 10 years. Bit more contemporary decor, slightly smaller carte more reliant on our Kitchen Garden, Laguiole knives, few more 'treats' between courses. I need the challenge, frankly. But yes, the holiday was, to paraphrase Depeche Mode, fun-packed. Lots to eat and drink (aligot frenzy occurred several times), and my brother-in-law and I chopped down a couple of trees, which made me feel all butch and powerful.

Review: Michel Truchon, Le Sénéchal, Sauveterre-de-Rouergue, Aveyron, France This was one of those meals that are 'just wonderful'; where the atmosphere, company, food, wine and everything else seem to combine into a delightful ball of loveliness. Sauveterre-de-Rouergue is a tiny bastide village (it takes about 5 minutes to walk completely around it) just south of Rodez, making it an excellent secondary stop on the way to, or back from, Michel Bras. It's about an hour from Golinhac, where our house is, making for an easy trundle through the countryside, but requiring an overnight stay (well, that's my excuse). We arrived just before lunch, and parked opposite Le Sénéchal, which stands at the northern end of the village. We considered it a little early to check in, so headed for the central square, which is beautiful. http://www.aurelle-verlac.com/sauveterre/svtrplace.jpg You see? Pause at a bar for refreshments; my wife had a fantastic dark beer from Corsica called Pietra, which is flavoured with chestnuts. It was delicious, well worth looking for. I was accosted by a randy boxer dog, which we all had a good laugh about later. The whole village then seemed to 'disappear' for lunch, and the only place open was a small restaurant called 'La Grappe D'Or', at the western side of the village. We had confit and frites, a decent rosé, and passed a pleasant hour before the shops reopened. Like Laguiole, Sauveterre is famous for its clasp knives, and we popped into the Atelier Vialis to have a look. I decided to buy a knife, and plumped for a beautiful example, made from wood taken from the magnolia trees that once belonged to Marie Antoinette. Classy, huh? http://www.vialis.fr/atelier_sauveterre.html Then we checked in. Turns out they're closed for lunch on Thursdays, so we had to dial the Sénéchal and wait for Madame Truchon to come and open up for us. Our rooms were, as most French hotels are, bizarrely decorated, a mixture of beautiful antiques and horrendous tubular steel. Still, the aircon worked superbly, the bathroom was clean and the beds comfortable. Time for dinner.... We were seated outside (always a rare treat for the English), but from what i could see the dining room looked spacious and beautifully arranged. There were large vases with goldfish in on each table. Still not sure how I feel about that. The waiting staff appeared to (on that night at least) be composed of Madame Truchon and two sommeliers. Bizarre, but they were all excellent. They made is laugh, tried out their english, and never let our glasses become dry. Nice guys. So, the meal: Canapés: Little polenta discs with herbs and parmesan Malt loaf with Bleu des Causses Stuffed cherry tomatoes Shellfish tartlets All good, especially the malt loaf; dark and fruity, it made a great counterpoint to the sweet salty cheese. I asked for a fino sherry, and the sommelier said he didn't have that, but he did have something I might have never tried. I beat him to it by asking if it was Robert Plageoles' "Vin de Voile", a sherry-like wine from Gaillac. He burst out laughing and said "Yes!" I told him I have it on my wine list here in the UK, and he sounded pleasantly surprised. The wines I ordered were: White - "L'Argile" de la Rectorie (one of my favourite whites, from near Banyuls) and a Mas Jullien red. Both were, as expected, excellent. Amusette 1: Carrot and cumin mousse with sesame tuile Delicious light foamy mousse, perhaps not as carroty as it could have been, but the langue-du-chat tuile was lovely. Amusette 2: a champagne flute of Cauliflower foam with argan oil Straight out of the elBulli espuma gun, really tasty, and the oil lent a nice citric kick 1st course: A little bowl of mussel and saffron soup topped with a tuile made from Estaing cheese (very like Parmesan) with a small timbale of aubergine and roast tomato with a socca galette (chickpea flour from Nice) The soup was excellent, with plenty of saffron and a rich mussel-y cream. The tuile was tasty enough, if a little chewy (as these things are when left for anything longer than a minute) and the timbale was intensely-flavoured. They didn't really compliment each other, but as separate items they were extremely good. 2nd course: Duck foie gras with roast black figs, duck jus and Banyuls Massive slice of perfectly fried foie gras resting between two enormous plump figs, with a little pool of intense duck reduction and a splash of reduced Banyuls. Blissful. We enjoyed a glass of another Plageoles wine with this, his "Vin d'Autan", a super-intense quince-flavoured pudding wine made from the Ondenc grape, IIRC. 3rd course: sea bream with violet artichokes, vanilla oil and tempura of citronelle leaf Oh man, this was superb. A beautiful piece of fish, seared crisp on the skin side, barely cooked flesh which just melted, set atop at least a dozen tiny artichoke hearts, and traced with a little sunflower oil with vanilla seeds. The tempura was a crispy citrus-flavoured leaf which added a delightful contrast. The artichokes were delicious, and the fish was really, really good; meaty and super-fresh. 4th course: lamb sweetbreads with parsnip puree, truffle and lovage cream Disappointing, if only because the sweetbreads were overcooked. This said, the dish worked really well. The parnsip puree was intense and perfumes, which married well with the thick slices of black summer truffle, and the fluffy cream was only lightly flavoured with lovage, which can dominate. Here it just added its celery-like intensity to the perfume of the dish. Shame about those 'breads. Cooked quickly to a crunchy exterior/soft centre, they'd have really made a terrific dish. 5th course: Fillet of Aubrac beef with mustard greens, violet mustard sauce and Mostarda di Cremona Bit on the mustard-y side. Seriously, though, this could have been awful, but it wasn't. The Mostarda di Cremona was simply the fruit, removed from the mustard syrup and diced finely, and the violet mustard was merely a trace of jus across the plate. The greens were juicy and tasty, and the fillet was excellent. Aubrac beef is brilliant stuff, and this was cooked and rested perfectly. Cometh The Cheese Trolley: Nice, small well-managed selection, from which we tried: Marotte - Roquefort (Le Vieux Berger - the best I've ever had) - Estaing - Perail http://www.le-vieux-berger.com/ Dessert: Warm Chocolate Tart with cardamom ice-cream and a cocoa-nib tuile A nice enough tart, with plenty of warm custardy filling, and the cardamom just floated through the dish without squashing any of the flavours. the tuile was brilliant, a sticky cocoa and sugar biscuit dotted with chopped cocoa nibs - really dark flavours. With this we drank a most astonishing wine. I'd said I fancied something Maury-esque, and off scuttled the sommelier with a glint in his eye. He brough back a dark bottle, which was stencilled in the style of a vintage port. The wine was 'Maydie', a dessert wine made by the Madiran producer Chateau d'Aydie. It is 100% Tannat, vinified like a ruby port. My God, it is superb. Huge, juicy, alcoholic. I have already begun to look for a source of this for my own restaurant. Really impressive stuff... Coffee etc. We were given a small coffee menu, and chose to drink Blue Mountain (well, why not?), and Armagnacs were chosen too. I also went for a cigar (Cohiba Siglo 1) because it's been a while since I had a nice smoke after such a good meal. The petits-fours were: A little glass of barbary fig (prickly pear) foam with a herb jelly beneath - lovely a chocolate/coffee ganache pot really tasty vanilla madeleines nicely sour lemon tartlets We had a good long chat with Madame Truchon about all manner of things, then went to bed very happy, but a little bit too full. Ah well, it's a rare treat to go out for dinner. Overall, very impressed. I would certainly go back - there was much on the carte I'd have liked to try. The welcome and service was informal, friendly and helpful (Mme Truchon even gave us advice on where to go fishing the next day - with results; we caught three very nice fario trout) and I'd add this to my ever-growing list of great places to eat in the Aveyron (Bras, Gouts et Couleurs in Rodez, Le Vieux Pont in Belcastel, L'Auberge Saint Fleuret in Estaing). There's a new place in Conques, very close by, which is also getting rave reviews. Gault Millau named the chef as one of the ones to watch. It's the Moulin de Cambelong. http://www.moulindecambelong.com I shall aim to try it next time I'm out there. Meanwhile, do try the Sénéchal. It's smashing. http://www.senechal.net Apologies for the lengthy post, but hey, it's the way I do it.

Despite having exactly the same opening hours, I'm going to eat there as soon as humanly possible. It sounds excellent.

Well, it's still my favourite restaurant in the whole wide world, and it'll take something pretty impressive to sway me. The whole adventure chez Bras is magical. A drive up into the clouds, the fresh air, the space; ambrosial, witty food, and great service from everyone (especially our friend Sergio, the sommelier. He even jump-started our hire car last time...) I could eat there for a week and not get bored. I would, however, steer clear of sharing the rib of beef more than once. Twice I've had it now, and twice I've not been able to finish it. And I'm massive. Oh, and if you're staying the night, ask for room 13. It's the nicest, although all the rooms are pretty special. Great sunsets, and if you're lucky, terrific thunderstorms at dusk. In Laguiole, you'd be silly not to at least lunch at the Auguy, and I never miss the opportunity to polish off a chou farci or two at the Aubrac, after spending far too much on knives and assorted trinkets at the Coutellerie next door. (www.layole.com)