Arpege: dinner and lunch; 2002-2004

[Steve Plotnicki]

I had planned a last minute trip to France. Between the Marche au Vin taking place in Ampuis over the weekend, and business meetings that were crystalizing in London at the beggining of the week, it was enough to make me get on the plane for the overnight journey. I phoned a friend who was going to be traveling for the week in Germany and made plans to meet up in Paris on Friday. Once I decided to go, I tried to book a table at both Arpege and Gagniere but as they say, they were fully booked. But then a friend of mine informed me they had a late reservation at Arpege on Friday and invited us to join them. Now how can someone pass up an invitation like that?

In all my years of dining in France, I have never dined at Arpege. I must hold some kind of record for walking past a 3 star restaurant and never eating there. But in spite of the frequency of my passing, for some reason I didn’t feel a terrible need to go. But a few years ago when Mad Cow Disease broke out in France, Alain Passard the chef/owner of Arpege announced he was going to stop serving meat and would be concentrating on vegetables. As one could imagine, a controversy ensued with certain people raving about the “vegetarian” cuisine and others complaining that it was a crazy price to pay for merely vegetables. Well I’m a guy who likes to be in the thick of a good controversy so I decided it was time to see what all the fuss (or not) was about.

Our dinner was a special menu chosen by the kitchen. The person we were dining with eats there quite often and they always prepare a surprise menu. This night it was an 8 course affair and it was 11:00pm when they started serving us and 2:00am when we got into our taxi. The dinner itself was pretty much something that I hadn’t ever experienced before. Passard practices what he calls “non-aggressive cooking.” I believe his kitchen  does not have an oven.  Everything is slow cooked in either a sauté pan or roasted in a cocotte.  The philosophy appears to be to serve everything in the most natural state and the  best way to do that is to cook things at the lowest possible temperature for as long  as it takes to “sweat” the flavor out of it.

We were served the following,

Celery Root and Black Truffles from the Perigord baked in a salt crust

Lobster and Turnips with a hint of Rosemary in a sauce of Honey and Xeres Vinegar

Salt Baked Beetroot with artisinal Salted Butter from Brittany made by Mr. Bordier

Onion Gratin with Perigord Truffles and Parmaigian Reggiano

Langoustines with an Herb Emulsion and Grapefruit Juice

Scallops with Braised Carrots and Turnips from the Val D’Anjou with small shavings of Lemongrass

Wild Duck hunted by Mr. Aubry Fancois

Preserved Tomatoes flambéed in Calvados and stuffed with a dozen Savoury Flavors and served with a scoop of Mint Ice Cream

The celery root was a good way to start, calibrating our palates for what was to come. They served us each a quarter of an entire one, and the truffles were applied to each side. It sort of reminded me of the consistency of yucca when they serve it in a Latino restaurant. But celeriac is more pungent, yet still starchy and potato like. The truffles took the edge off and made it seem comforting. This next dish was my second favorite of the evening. It was very small and delicate pieces of lobster meat. Cooked for a moment, just until soft but retaining enough firmness to remind one they are eating lobster. The turnips were sliced paper thin and laid atop the lobster meat. They were more about texture than flavor. In between were very small cuttings of rosemary. This tiny little lobster “cake” was sitting in a pool of sweet and sour (honey and vinegar) sauce. It was a great combination of land, sea, sweet, tart, soft yet firm and crunchy. But it was the rosemary that really made the dish fly, adding an unexpected flavor and texture. Excellent and I can see making the same dish at home with thin slices of Diver Scallops that have been cooked for a moment. With these dishes we drank,

1998 Haut Brion Blanc - A wine with a great reputation, this was my first experience. In general I don’t drink much Bordeaux Blanc. What a beautiful wine. Amazingly ripe. There seems to be a good deal of residual sugar. But not overly sweet. So young. This bottle will last for ages and with time I think it will pick up some herbal notes that will blend in perfectly. Worth owning some to lay away 93 points

All of a sudden the captain appeared with three glasses of white wine, which he said was a surprise. “See if you can guess what it is.” I picked it up, smelled it and it seemed like young chardonnay, a bit woody too. I tasted it and it was fizzy. For the life of us we couldn’t figure it out. It was Champagne like, but not what I’m used to drinking. Then they appeared with a tray holding three small domes of Beetroot baked in a salt crust. Moments later they served us each an entire beet with the stem cut off and the top partially scooped out. Inside the little gorge they had created was a large pat of Mr. Bordier’s fantastic salty Breton butter. In my opinion this dish captured the spirit of Passard’s philosophy more than any other dish. Nothing but top quality vegetables, perfectly cooked and adorned with amazing butter. The beet was sweet as sugar. Served firm, but just soft enough for it to be something you could bite into. It had an elastic quality which would give way to a sudden crunch. And the butter, sheesh. Once again, a marvel of sweet and salty. Formidable. And the wine turned out to be,

1973 Dom Perignon - It turns out that the winemaker for DP was dining there that night and they were kind enough to send over three glasses to our table. Well you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out what it was. Not only was it so very young tasting (like if they told me it was a 1995 I would have believed them), but they tricked us even further by serving it to us in a white wine glass. It didn’t have the yeastiness I associate with DP, which is maybe why I didn’t guess Champagne at first. I wouldn’t mind trying it again though, this time from a proper glass and giving it the requisite time to air out a bit 92 points

Next was a small gratin of caramlized onions and black truffle held together by some Parmigiano Reggiano. It was very light. The whole concoction must have been 1/8 of an inch from the surface of the gratin dish. Once again Passard reoriented our palates from the sweetness of the beets to the savory of the onions, which had the perfect amount of crunch to them to make them seem more substantial than just a vegetable. The gratin was followed by a row of Langoustines, their tails glistening from the sparakle of a bit of sel de Guerande while their bodies were gutted and filled with an herb emulsion, all tied together with grapefruit juice. Another instance of sweet versus salty but the inclusion of the taste of the sea had now set us off on a new direction.

1995 Haut Brion - I heard this was drinking well so I opted for it over some 1999 Burgundy they had listed. I figured why not make it an all Haut Brion evening? Well it does drink very well, especially for young Bordeaux. Will this ever go into a closed phase? More fruit in the balance than I know HB to have. It usually is all minerally and gravely. Maybe that will change with time but I’m not sure. It certainly doesn’t show like typical HB. If there was a flaw, the acid was a bit too prominent for my palate. A wine to layaway but also to be checked every five years or so. I thought the ’98 Blanc was the best wine of the evening 90 points

Then they served us Sea Scallops with some carrots and some turnips along with some tiny shavings of  lemongrass. This was my favorite dish of the night. The scallops were so dense, it was like someone took two or three scallops and compressed them into one. It was almost like eating steak. And the carrots were perfect, slowly cooked in salty butter until they were as sweet as sugar. Another dish where sweet, salty, firm yet soft from the scallops juxtaposed against two different types of crunchiness from the vegetables made for something unique. And finally they brought out a small but beautiful wild duck, which turned out to be shot in the North of France by a friend of the chef. One of us even found some remaining buckshot in the duck  After two hours of vegetables and fish, the texture and flavor of the duck was both strong and alarming. Maybe a bit too chewy and gamey for me. But I am not chasse crazy like some other people.

We finished with the famous Tomato dessert. They take a tomato, sort of a very large cherry tomato, blanch it, peel it, remove the insides, and then slowly sauté it over a low flame for two hours all the while basting it in orange caramel. They then make a filling of a dozen flavors like pistachio, cinnamon, clove, pineapple, etc and stuff the tomato with it. They heat it at tableside and our version was flambéed with Calvados just before serving. A small scoop of soft mint ice cream is served alongside it. Having heard about this dessert for so many years, I have to say it was sort of a letdown. I like the concept but the dozen flavors weren’t my favorites. Too much of the flavor of dried fruits for me. I would prefer it a bit sweeter. But now that I know how they make it I have to try it at home.

So how do I rate Arpege? Well it was certainly different. Passard’s approach is truly unique. The closest comparison I can think of is Senderen's foie gras steamed in cabbage leaves. I can also understand how some people would call it simplistic, and complain about paying those prices for vegetables. But I can see it from the minimalist perspective as well. And writing up these notes made me think through my meal in a way I couldn’t think it through as it was being served.

I think it is great that at the same time Passard's approach can exist, it is countered by Pierre Gagniere's approach. How can two approaches, both as cerebral as these are, exist at the extreme opposite ends of the spectrum? And if one can describe Gagniere’s cuisine as coming in flourishes and waves of harmonies, Passard’s cuisine is sort of like Erik Satie. Slow, sustained notes, each one important. I must admit that the former suits me a bit more when it comes to dining. I am better described as a glutton than a thinker. But there was something about this meal that is gnawing at me and it deserves further exploration.

Something else I found original was his approach to sweet and salty. I am used to the classic examples that are typically found in Mediteranean or in Asian cuisine. His was sort of a Northern European approach and it was new for me. Breton salted butter is the foundation and pairing it with the natural sweetness of root vegetables is the cultural equivalent of the other examples. So, I was going to give Arpege a rating of A, but now I found myself writing A+ because there is something about the meal calling me back there. And since I am going to be back in Paris next month, I hope I get to further explore its wonders.

[Bux]

<moment of silence>

</moment of silence>

And writing up these notes made me think through my meal in a way I couldn’t think it through as it was being served.

I'm glad we could be here for you. ;)

I suppose you've done as much as anyone to convince me that food can be art. Moreover, that's pretty much how I'd want someone to approach and consider my art. Shelving my envy and jealousy, I enjoyed reading that very much. I see it's quite a long post. It did not feel that long. It was fascinating that Passard makes his point about vegetables being enough, by serving wild duck. Reading your post, I get the impression that just as writing helped you focus on the meal in review, the duck helped you focus on the vegetables.

Thanks.

[Steve Plotnicki]

Bux - You know I thought about your response for a few days trying to figure out how to respond. It was the "art" bit that bothered me. Because as much as this meal had all the indicia of art, I'm personally not prepared to call it art. And I'm struggling between the difference of something being art, and something intended to be cerebral. I can't say this meal moved me, but it certainly made me think about food in a different way. I just don't kknow if that's enough to qualify it as art.

[Bux]

I'm prepared to call it art, but not so keen on making a case about that. It's a good discussion, but one that eventually boils down to semantics without proving or disproving the point. I would say that in my mind, if it's not cerebral it's not art. I'm not sure that being cerebral is enough to make in art. I'll have to think about that.

My point was merely that the meal was planes above sustenance and the usual terminology people use to describe their meals is clearly inadequate to communicate the sense of the evening. You rose to the occasion without needing to decide if it was art.

[Jinmyo]

A bit of an aside, but I hope relevant.

Calling the culinary arts an "art" makes me uneasy. Even at it's heights, I prefer to think of it as a craft.

Any yet to me an art is this: A painting that makes you more aware of seeing and interested in what is seen; music that makes you more aware of hearing and willing to hear in new ways; a statue that makes dimensionality and the play of light and space around surfaces interesting and brings about a new recognition of the space and light around someone's face, an ashtray, an open door.

Whenever chow can bring about a reorientation in how we perceive food, the world of colours, textures, tastes... is it art?

To Steve Plotnicki: Eat and write, eat and write. Please. I had read this and that about Arpege and will almost certainly never eat there. But your description of how you experienced it was transparent enough so that I could at least smell if not taste the meal.

[Bux]

What I liked about Plotnicki's post was that it made me more aware of how I might perceive food and eat. Was his post art?

[Steve Plotnicki]

Jimmyo - Thanks. Your words are encouragement. I guess I'll just have to suffer through more great meals and write them up :) As for food as art, I think one has to be careful of semantics when discussing a discipline that is spoken of in terms of it being an art, when the final result isn't "art." I mean when speaking about Doctors, they say the art of practicing medicine, but the final result isn't "art." And although there was an art to how Passard constructed the meal and manipulated the tastes and texture to tell a bigger story, I still wouldn't call it "art." But it also seems appropriate to say that there's an art to what he does. Does this make sense? Art is a verb, but "art" is a noun. Personally I don't think food is "art" because it's purpose is consumption and not prerely aesthetic. Problem is, not everyone agrees with me.

[robert brown]

Maybe the concept of "being artistic" is what we're talking about; what one finds in arranging flowers, applying make-up for a special dramatic role,etc. We had this discussion last month. I've met almost no great chefs who have what you could call "an artistic temperment", whereas I've met many artists and writers who do and, as a result, are a lot more interesting to talk to, analyze, and read about. Certainly, however, I would call good cooking an applied art, but "art" in the sense of an adjective for 'design".

(Edited by robert brown at 12:15 pm on Feb. 3, 2002)

[Bux]

I don't think I've ever met an artist who would be flattered to be known as having an artistic temperament. This is not to say that there are not many who have exactly that. Nevertheless, when I think of artistic temperament, I think of the stereotypical opera diva. Many chefs have that temperament. ;)

Maybe opera singers are classified as "artistes" rather than artists. Art and craft are too often interchangeably used for us to need to argue much in this area, except for abstract purposes. Certainly The Art of french Cooking by Julia child was not a controversial title. There are fine arts, creative arts, applied arts, interpretive arts, performing arts, etc.

[robert brown]

Bux, maybe we each have a different notion of "artistic temperment". When I think of divas, I think of primadonnas. Artistic temperment implies to me the personality, abillity, and vision to create art. Anyway, I realized that, after I wrote my initial post, I have met lots of graphic designers, industrial designers, and even a chef or two (Gagnaire comes to mind and, a bit less, Chapel and Jean Troisgros, the last of whom  looked the most like a stereotypical artist). There are, and I have known, plenty of very good artists who grew up in unsophisticated places, received little liberal arts education, and were not necessarily the most articulate or "intellibent" people, yet were able to express brillliant ideas or vision in their work. Rarely have I met a chef who strikes me this way, although with an increasing number, especially outside of continental Europe, coming to cooking after a college education, this is changing. Nonetheless, I agree with Jinmyo in that cooking is a craft. It just has too many strictures and boundaries to ever be free and spiritual.

(What we ought to be discussing that is more pertinent and amenable to an even more interesting back and forth is gastronomy in relation to the popular culture; is it part of it, and, if so, what has being so done to gastronomy in terms of quality? Whoever wants to start up the topic, if it's not me when I get a chance, should do so in the "General" forum).

[Fat Guy]

Quite aside from the issue of food-as-art, I think Arpege is overrated. I don't have a multiple-visit body of experience to draw upon here, and I haven't been to Arpege since it claimed to redefine itself, but it's quite difficult for me to imagine a persuasive argument for bestowing three stars on Arpege; even two would seem a stretch.

Putting aside for the moment the issue of Alain Passard's questionable cooking, Arpege simply doesn't offer the luxury appointments and excellent service that distinguish a three-star from a one- or two-star restaurant. The premises are best described as flimsy, and the service can be inattentive (and occasionally surly -- I came closer to punching a waiter at Arpege than I ever have elsewhere). Some of Arpege's defenders have argued that this is because Arpege is a bit less expensive than the other Paris three-stars (which, especially at lunchtime, is true). But this is the very reason the one- and two-star ratings exist.

As for the food, I've not been impressed by what I've tried, much of which had the consistency of baby food without any of the explosive flavors that the three-star promise requires. When dining at the typical three-star restaurant, there's a certain authoritativeness that alters the role of the critic: One is no longer looking for signs of overcooking, or for blatant flaws in the recipes. At a true three-star restaurant, the critic is simply there to explain things, if he is even necessary at all. Not so at Arpege, where I find myself slipping into extreme nit picky mode because there are so many nits to pick, so many errors in cooking, so many dishes that are just plain weak. Perhaps I, and many of my most knowledgeable acquaintances, have hit Arpege on bad days. But as one gentleman wrote on the barely active www.patriciawells.com message boards: "There is more wrong at Arpege than an 'off night' can justify."

Patricia Wells, who I used to consider authoritative and still consider a pretty good critic, wrote what was for her I think a scathing review of Arpege shortly after it supposedly adopted a vegetarian emphasis. The toughest comment she made:

. . . he is making a fine start, but I would say he is only halfway there. Much of the problem was the very poor quality of the vegetables used (he needs to do research to find the many fabulous sources in Paris, right under his nose) as well as the overly experimental nature of many of the dishes. People may not scream at the though of paying 620 francs for a lovely layered affair of thinly sliced celery root filled with a chestnut purée, lasagna style, embellished with a fine and fragrant fresh black truffle cream. But they will blanch at paying 320 francs for a watery and tasteless turnip the size of a golf ball rolled in those almond candies and serve in a reduced onion sauce. (Full text of review on Patricia Wells's site)

Plotnicki, you're a guy who disdains the overly self-conscious restaurant, as you have argued exhaustively on the threads about Craft restaurant in New York. It would seem to me that Arpege is the epitome of extreme self-consciousness. What do you make of Passard's bizarre claims of new directions that seem to amount to a hill of beans? Do they not annoy the heck out of you?

That a brilliant chef such as Olivier Roellinger (whose restaurant serves three-star food in a three-star setting) could be saddled with two stars while Passard's inferior establishment garners three raises questions about Michelin that extend beyond judgment. Of all the chefs to discuss in the context of food-as-are, Passard strikes me as a weak choice. As far as I'm concerned, the closest he gets to art is the Rodin museum across the street.

[Bux]

I sometimes hope that those who post the most intellectually provocative messages, don't actually believe what they post. I haven't eaten at Arpège since it was a two star restaurant and at the time I would not have considered it a "value" restaurant. At the same time, we found a noticeable mystique about the food and its subtleties. We sat up and took notice that it was different from an ordinary restaurant, even an ordinary two star restaurant. It was not hard to understand why Passard was already getting a reputation as a chef's chef. I think you will agree that value becomes very subjective at the three star level and it is hard to measure in terms used by most diners who never eat three star meals.

One of my companions at Argège ordered a soup that was a puree of two vegetables. I looked at the two purees artfully arranged in a yin yang pattern and thought "baby food," myself. My companion took a few tastes and lit up as if she had just been visited by God, or at least the every essence of the two ingredients.

As for Ms. Wells, she's been a respected and influential voice for a long time, but I've found much of her writing off the mark in the last year or so since she's come under the influence of her California health and fitness guru. I think the words that directly follow your quote are telling:

"... I also feel that as Passard and other chefs delve into pure vegetarian menus that they need to learn a little bit more about balancing protein, fat and carbohydrates in a menu. While they should not be expected to be nutritionists, they need to think about satisfying a client’s need for a meal that contains at least some protein balance. They need to delve into pastas and rice, beans and legumes to balance out the pure dose of vegetables."

While it appears to be an obvious and indisputable statement, I don't think it was ever raised when she was touting Robuchon's mashed potatoes or the complete focus on protein in the rest of the world of haute cuisine. It's also irrelevant as it's clear to me that Passard does offer "pure vegetarian menus." I have no interest in defending Steve Plotnicki, although my francophillic tendencies may alway leave room for suspicion, the mere fact that this meal moved Steve the way it did, is sufficient reason to credit Passard for a major accomplishment. Art or not, haute cuisine has moved to another place in the 21st century. It's no longer possible to measure two restaurants by how well each of them duplicates a recipe codified by Escoffier. One person's best restaurant may well be intolerable to another person of equal perception and taste. This may be Michelin's toughest hour and a rating of stars may only be useful to inquisitive diners, but not to those looking for satisfaction. It's becoming too subjective.

[Bux]

Whether you consider Passard an artist on the same level as Michelangelo or Picasso and whether or not you agree that Arpège is a three star restaurant as designated by Michelin, you can't help but notice the way people react to his food. Steve Plotnicki's post that started this thread is but one example. Two more just cropped up on this site. Mao just got back from a week of dining in Paris with Vivin and his wife.

Vivin summarized his meal by posting:

L’ARPEGE: FOOD CAN BE ART

The meal at L’Arpege was unlike any other experience I have had. The textural aspects and presentation was along the lines of top Japanese kaiseki meals but the myriad spices used (especially cumin) with vegetables highlighted Passard’s talent when combining flavors.

Quote of the day: The food appeals to the intellect as much if not more than the palate.

Mao did not summarize, but you can read Vivin and Mao Paris Installment One: Arpege by clicking on the link. It's worth noting that they both ranked Arpège as third favorite of the week. It will be interesting to see how poetically they wax about their favorite dinner.

[Steve Plotnicki]

After my extremely successful Chez Georges warm-up, and my false start at L’Affriole for lunch the next day, we braced ourselves for three evenings of three star dining. That much haute cuisine in a single trip is unusual for me. Normally when I’m in Paris, I’ll take a single meal at a temple of haute cuisine and then the rest of my meals are spent eating at bistros or having a good couscous. But eGullet has changed my life. And the people I’ve met through the board, and the experiences that have resulted from knowing them have inspired me to *get to the heart of what makes it all tick.*

We started our journey at Arpege on Tuesday evening. If you have never been, on entering you wouldn’t think you are in one of the world’s great restaurants. It’s a small room, holding only about 35 people. The room is paneled in wood, and the walls are dotted with lovely Lalique inserts spread throughout. There is an additional dining room downstairs that holds 16 people that is decorated like an old wine cellar. If the staff wasn’t dressed formally, and the clientele didn’t have that posh and polished air about them, you would think you had walked into a luxury bistro.

This was my second visit to Arpege, with my first one being last January. At that meal I ate with someone who is a regular and the chef, Alain Passard, prepared a surprise tasting menu that was based around market ingredients. But aside from the famous tomato dessert, it didn’t include any of his signature dishes. This time my plan was to sample them. And since this was Madame P.’s first visit, it seemed like a good overall strategy. Fortunately they were offering a tasting menu of most of their classics with a few additions thrown in.

We ate the following;

Egg with a light cream mousse and maple syrup

Avocado and Caviar mousse with Ossetra

Gazpacho with Mustard Ice Cream

Sautéed Spinach with sesame oil and Carrot puree flavored with ginger

Brittany Lobster with sliced Turnips in a sweet and sour sauce

Line caught Sole prepared two ways

Slow pan-roasted Chicken with Vegetables

Canette

Cheese

Chocolate Napoleon

Tomatoes

The Arpege egg is lightly poached, topped with a small dollop of creamy mousse and lightly flavored with a small amount of maple syrup. It’s very delicate, with just enough maple syrup present so it can be detected. But in no way does it dominate the dish’s flavor. The dish is a good stage setter. The silkiness of the egg paired with the creaminess of the mousse coats your tongue and the hint of maple syrup serves as the icing on the cake. But in addition to a textural context for the meal, it introduces two valuable concepts. That the ingredients used here are going to be of top quality, and that the key to the cuisine is an impeccable sense of balance. The theme of lush and creamy continued with two small egg shaped (a whimsical reminder of the first course?) scoops of mousse. One flavored with avocado, and one flavored with Ossetra caviar. The texture of these two heavenly orbs raised the level of luxury on one’s tongue to a point that was just short of heaven. But when taking a spoonful of mousse, each scoop had a portion of Ossetra caviar tucked away in it’s middle that introduced saltiness as a component of the meal. Staggeringly good. Acidity was then introduced through the addition of a tomato-based gazpacho. But chef Passard had a trick for us here. You are presented with a bowl of gazpacho that has been pureed and strained so as to be almost perfectly smooth. Then the waiter adds a large scoop of mustard ice cream that has a texture that is somewhere between a mousse, ice cream, and thick whipped cream. The surprise comes when you taste the combination and the presence of the vinegar of the mustard ice cream suppresses the acidity of the tomato and brings out its sweetness instead, while at the same time adding a sharpness that is complimented by the tang of the mustard seed. But in the context of this tasting menu, the true genius of the dish is how Passard has created a crescendo of creaminess that began with the egg. Creaminess serves as the foundation so he can add sweet, then salty, and then acidity. By the end of these three courses your palate has been pampered as well as primed. But repeating myself, the success depends on an impeccable sense of balance and proportion. Just like a fine wine.

We then moved into the next phase of the meal. We were presented with a small pile of lightly sautéed spinach with a scoop of carrot puree flavored with a hint of ginger. The spinach was warm, very buttery but without an overbearing taste of butter. It was cooked so perfectly. Soft but just firm enough to have a little crunch to it. The carrot puree had taken the place of the creamy textures that were present in the first three courses through the various mousses and ice creams. And the hint of ginger served to cleanse your palate for another small forkful of the spinach. The spinach was so good that I asked Laurent the Maitre’ d at Arpege how long they cook it for. “Just three minutes.” Gee I wish I could make spinach like that at home. We moved on to a small salad of Brittany lobster, which appeared to be exclusively claw meat. It was formed into a circle, and slices of very thin radishes covered it. Then a sweet and sour sauce was spooned on top. This was the dish of the night for both of us. The lobster meat was incredibly flavorful, and the sauce seemed to extract even more flavor then seemed possible. Bravo.

We were now moving into the “real food” phase of our meal. We were each served 1/8th of a line caught sole from the Ile d’Yeaux. It was presented as a long, thin slice of sole that trailed into a point. The introduction of a firm, meaty substance was a major change for our palates. The first service was sweet, accompanied by buttered leeks and a sweetish sauce. Very delicious but I didn’t find it as enjoyable as the prior courses. I then asked Laurent how the second service is prepared. “I don’t know, the chef always surprises us.” It appeared about ten minutes later. A second long, thin, pointy spear of sole. But this time the sauce was savory and the spicing seemed somewhat Asian. It was far less successful then any of the other dishes.

About 20 minutes later they appeared at our table with a rather large chicken. “Slowly sautéed for two hours in a pan” is what I believe they announced. It was then presented to the table that was directly across from us where another couple was seated. The restaurant had calibrated our meals so that when we got to our main dishes, they could prepare an entire sole, and an entire chicken that could be served ¼ each for four different people. The little presentation ceremony allowed us to bond with our French neighbors who seemed to be celebrating the husband’s birthday. They whisked the chicken away and about 5 minutes later they appeared with a dish for each of us with a ¼ of a chicken, skin still on, along with various vegetables that had been slow roasted with the chicken. It was haute cuisine chicken in the pot without the broth. It was good, but somewhat blandish after the acute flavors of the prior courses. Then we were each served a half of a canette, which for those who don’t know is a small, wild duckling. It was simply prepared, seeming to be slow roasted and it had a faint citrus glaze that I guessed as lemon. I thought it was quite good and the duckling was particularly flavorful with flesh that was nice and meaty and had a perfect chew to it. But as good as it was, it wasn’t as interesting as the “pre-meat” courses.

I had a small plate of cheese to clear my palate. And then they presented a beautiful chocolate napoleon. This was the special birthday treat the restaurant prepared for the other table and we were going to share in the celebration. A chocolate napoleon is just like it sounds. Chocolate leaves surrounded by chocolate cream. It must have been a foot long. Since I am wheat sensitive, they sliced it into three parts. Madame P. reported that it was great, although she claims it could have used a little whipped cream or ice cream to cut the intensity of the chocolate. But exquisite regardless, even with that little flaw. And then the tomatoes appeared with a scoop of mint ice cream. As I expected, Madame P. hated them, as she does not like the flavor of savory spices like clove in her dessert. But that just meant I had four tomatoes to eat not two: wink:.

Arpege has a new sommelier doing a great job. He returned to Paris after a five year stint in Atlanta (I forget which restaurant) and I want to say his name is Moulad and I ask his forgiveness if I’ve gotten that wrong. He has really upgraded the wine list since my last visit. It was chock full of good choices in both Burgundy and the Rhone (drinking Bordeaux continues to be pricey in France) and I ordered a bottle of 2000 Michel Niellon Chevalier-Montrachet at 217 euros which is less then the price at retail. Historically that wine would have been listed at 300-400 euros, which shows you how good the pricing was (I should tell you that we found that wine pricing all over France has improved a great deal but that’s for another post.) I found the wine very good, but not up to the standard of Niellon’s Chevalier’s from other years. My experience agreed with what Allen Meadows the Burghound told me about Niellon’s 2000’s when we had dinner in Beaune last April. He said that with age Michel seems to have become more adverse to acid and he is making fatter wines. It’s a shame if that is true on a long-term basis as Niellon’s Chevalier is probably my single favorite white Burgundy.

It was now 12:30 in the morning. We had arrived at 8:30. Where did the four hours go? Looking back on it all, and Madame P. concurs with me completely which is unusual, our overall experience was great. But we both kind of feel that there wasn’t really any point to serving the chicken and the duck. Yes the meal needs a climax, but neither of us felt the chicken or the duck delivered the knockout punch. I’m not sure what would do it. Slow roasted lobsters or fish with a more aggressive flavor? There were other tables that ordered ala Carte instead of tasting menus and many of the people were eating a plate full of langoustes. Maybe we would have liked that more. Because from where we sit, the meal is almost over after the second sole service. It just needs one shot of strong flavors to cap it all off. But I’m really picking nits here because it was really a fantastic meal. The other thing to complain about is the price. 300 euros is a big ouch no matter how good the food is. I won’t take a position about whether it’s worth it or not save to say that the next day we ran into friends from NYC and told them we ate there the night before. The women then said that it was always her favorite restaurant in Paris and it wasn’t unusual for her to eat there twice on a trip. But that since they had switched to serving mostly vegetables, she wondered whether the price of the meal was justified? And a note about the superb service. Everyone on the staff from Laurent on down did an exemplary job. They were completely attentive while being unobtrusive. Somehow they manage to offer three star service without it being formal or stodgy.

I’m not done with Arpege. I need to eat a few more meals to hone my palate so I can understand the philosophy of the cuisine to a greater extent than I already do. It’s funny how when you experience a seminal approach to an art or a craft, it calibrates your palate or senses and allows you to appreciate things you might have overlooked if not for the example shown. And I can say that my first experience at Arpege allowed me to experience restaurants like Craft or Blue Hill in a way that was different before I ate there. I think that’s a pretty big accomplishment. And it’s at the heart of what haute cuisine is about.

[Toby]

Excellent, thoughtful review. Looking forward to write-ups of your other meals.

[Blue Heron]

Thanks for the detailed description of your meal at Arpege, and your insight on it. I enjoyed it. Did you like your small cheese plate, and do you remember what type of cheese they served?

[nightscotsman]

Wonderful review - thanks so much for all the detail! I have to say I was riveted by your description of the gazpacho with the mustard ice cream. I would love to be able to make this at home. Was the ice cream sweet in anyway, or just the pure mustard (dijon, I assume) flavor?

Your comments about the "main courses" being somewhat unnecessary rang a bell with me. When I was in France in May this year it seemed that at many of my meals the appetizers were far more interesting and creative than the main courses. It's almost as if the chefs really enjoy designing and producing the first course and then feel obligated to have some more substantial dish after, but it's kind of an afterthought. Has anyone else noticed this?

[Andy Lynes]

Steve - 300 euros each or for the pair of you?

When did he abandon his veg only approach, that didn't last very long did it?

As I've said in one form or another elsewhere on this site, I'm not sure I can be doing with all the sodding about, not to mention the cost, that "haute cuisine" entails anymore. Your meal sounds intruiging, but awfully clever-dickey. I mean, didn't you feel that the spinach should be accompanying something other than a blob of carrot? 3 minutes sounds like quite a long time to cook spinach for BTW.

The lobster dish sounds lovely.

[Steve Plotnicki]

Each.

I didn't feel cheated by anything in terms of food. The way the food was prepared and the way they organized the meal was stunning. It's just lots of money for what the ingredients must cost, even if they are perfectly prepared. I also don't think he ever had a veggie only approach. I think he announced there would be no more meat and a greater emphasis on vegetables and people mistook that for "vegetarian."

Heron - The best cheese was a 36 month aged Salers (which is Cantal I believe) that was joyous as it had started to crystalize like a good parmagian would.

Nightscotsman - I've been complaining that the mains are often boring for years. Less wiggle room there for some reason.

[Andy Lynes]

Apparently the announcement made by Passard was to the effect that he would ban all meat except for the odd bit of poultry from his menus, so it appears he has stuck to that.

[Bux]

... these two heavenly orbs raised ...

This is your moderator speaking to remind you to keep your lewd remarks in check.

Seriously, once again, I thought that was beautiful--not just what appears to be a well deserved paean to Passard's genius, but the questions you raise as well. Passard has come a long way from the two star restaurant I visited in the early ninties. He was considered a chef's chef then. Clearly he's continuing to think about food as much as cook and a full appreciation of his food demands thinking on the diner's part, or I think you're missing part of the food. That's an editorial "you." You do a fine job of making me think about your meal, Passard and the state of haute cuisine, without even being there. Thanks, I think this is eGullet at it's best.

I agree that it's hard to figure the value of a the cost of meal of this sort. Especially when, and I agree with you on this too, one is likely to understand and enjoy the next meal more than the last one. For many of us, a single meal breaks the budget, and yet the more we go, the better value we may get. It also helps to eat at this level elsewhere. The food is unique and yet part of a greater movement. The gazpacho with mustard ice cream reminds me of Heston's cabbage soup with mustard ice cream and I'd love to read of a comparison--or better yet have the opportunity to compare the two myself. It won't be on my next trip. We've decided to hit a three star, a one star and a variety of bistros and neighborhood restaurants. Paris many not have a "terrior," but a succession of three star restaurants doesn't leave me feeling as if I've been in Paris.

That much haute cuisine in a single trip is unusual for me. Normally when I’m in Paris, I’ll take a single meal at a temple of haute cuisine and then the rest of my meals are spent eating at bistros or having a good couscous. But eGullet has changed my life. And the people I’ve met through the board, and the experiences that have resulted from knowing them have inspired me to *get to the heart of what makes it all tick.*

I've been wondering if I've been focusing more on the multistarred meals and famous chefs because of my involvement here, or less in reaction to an overdose of names and influences.

[vivin]

Steve,

Thanx for a wonderful report. Your experience seems very similar to what we had (right down to the menu lineup). And your feelings sort of mirror mine.

On the issue of cost, I have to say that

1) I usually am the first to scoff at clever-dickey food. However, Passard is one of the few who really makes it work. Admittedly, this does not happen very often.

2) I would rather eat Passard's remarkably different cuisine once in a while rather than pay a traditional and boring meal chock full of expensive ingredients that are not used very creatively.

Ultimately, I have had dozens of so-so French-New York meals that have cost me in the neighborhood of 200 dollars per person. They leave me uninspired and fall short on the palate. I question those more than Passard's cooking.

[cabrales]

Passard IS a culinary genius.

[Steve Plotnicki]

This is your moderator speaking to remind you to keep your lewd remarks in check

Bux - Don't forget those orbs were a luxury on my tongue .

You know I started to write this up on Wednesday and I was 3/4 of the way though it and then my computer crashed. I was disheartened enough that I had decided not to rush back to rewrite it so I could restore my creative juices. But then Marcus PM'd me yesterday and asked where the hell my reviews were. So I commited to write it again when I got up early this morning.

But now that you have raised the issue, there was one part of the lost review that I forgot to include in this version. I mentioned as an aside that Passard's mustard ice cream was different then the mustard ice creams I had sampled at places that served Adria inspired cooking, Fat Duck being one of those places. And how Passard's ice cream struck me as uniquely French. As smooth and as creamy as an ice cream can possibly get with a fat content that could rival a pre-milked herd of cows. And that the Adria influenced ice cream was less smooth, more ice cream like. And I asked if those with more professional experience than I could expound on the difference in styles being somehow symbolic of the difference in French technique versus modern Spanish technique. Or was that making too much of it? So now due to your reminder, I've asked it here.

Vivin - Yes I think you make the right point about Passard. There is an intangeable element to the meal that makes it worth a price that doesn't correlate with what the ingredients or preparation times might add up to as a function of some mathematical equation. Call it an artistic license the diner has to pay for. But the other side of that coin means the meal is limited to only the most discerning diners who "get it." Not a bad thing, but troubling in a way because in some ways that harkens that haute cuisine is becoming an esoteric ritual. I wish there were more chefs out there who copied his style and philosophy. But to be honest, part of the problem is that Passard has never written a cookbook. He claims he doesn't have the time to do it. But at some point all of his techniques need to be codified so they can be passed on to others.

[Andy Lynes]

But the other side of that coin means the meal is limited to only the most discerning diners who "get it."

So....hold on....uhm..let me think about this..... ahhh....hey! Thats you!!!!!!!!

I wish there were more chefs out there who copied his style and philosophy.

Serious question : why? Do you not want individualism at that level. Isn't that what wins 3 stars and what you are paying the 300 Euros (bargin) for?