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Pierre Gagnaire: the good and the bad


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Pierre Gagnaire

On Tuesday, the 29th of April, I had the best meal of my life at the restaurant of Pierre Gagnaire. It was one of those transcendental experiences with new flavours, textures, combinations, and most importantly, emotions, that I have read or heard about from others, but never experienced. To put this in some context, I have eaten at the French Laundry, Ducasse, Gordon Ramsey, Chez Panisse, but this experience eclipsed them all. Don’t misunderstand me – I do not believe this to be a competition. It is just that epiphanies on this scale are so rare. So often we come across a dish perhaps, or a couple of courses, and think: “yes – that’s what I’ll remember” – for instance, a plate of perfect butter beans at Panisse, or a cauliflower panna cotta at Laundry, or a pumpkin soup at Gordon Ramsey (and many more). It is not necessarily that these things are the best the restaurants have to offer – rather they create a resonance – bells start ringing somewhere. We smile inwardly, or outwardly. We share it with those we love, or keep it to ourselves. The difference with Gagnaire was that these “single best” courses kept coming, and coming, until I thought I was going mad. Damnit, If I hadn’t been so full, and had my ‘bella figura’ and machismo to consider, I probably would’ve been sobbing and laughing simultaneously.

The service was immaculate. Formal and generous, without being stuffy. Theatrical and entertaining, without being pretentious. Stylish, without being conceited. I was dining on my own – although I had booked with my wife, she was ill and couldn’t come – and felt completely comfortable for what turned out to be a more-than three hour meal. My French is quite poor, but the staff all tried their best with English. Interestingly, I had asked for a lunch reservation, and they said I could come “between 12 – 1.30”. This doesn’t mean, as I thought, that that was my window. No, rather I could show up at my convenience between those hours, which I thought was really admirable. Dining at this level can be an intimidating experience; and this – like an amuse bouche to start the meal – was a small act of generosity which made a difference.

Two other points: during the meal, Gagnaire himself came into the dining room to shake everyone’s hand, and thank us for coming. I didn’t catch even a whiff of ego from the man – he seemed genuinely happy to find us there. It was a nice moment. Second, a French businessman who had brought his mother sat opposite me. At the beginning of the meal, he was behaving extremely cool, I thought – very debonair and unconcerned. But as the meal progressed, as plates were placed before them, he and his mother started laughing quietly to themselves – and by the time desert was placed before them, all pretence was out the window, and they were giggling like children.

Below I’ll list the menu. Considering how many courses there were, the portions were generous – slightly more so than the French Laundry, of which in style this meal resembled the most. If the food hadn’t been as good as it was, I don’t think I would’ve been able to finish – and I’m a big eater. There were six deserts alone – and I only remember five of them (for which I apologise – but I was somewhere between delirium and unconsciousness by this point, so you’ll have to forgive me). Also, because I don’t speak French, I can’t translate the menu, only give my recollections. My apologies if I miss something.

- Amuse

Small pastries with: sardine mousse, and anchovy ‘crisps’

salmon roe

tuile ‘cigarettes’

Comment: These were simple but profound. I usually hate salmon roe, but these were a revelation. Gentle rather than brash, and dissolving in the mouth, rather than ‘popping.’ Very sensual.

- Salpicon de tourteau, velouté mousseux de pomme verte; mange-tout et navets croquants.

Crab meat, surrounded by green apple juice, with mange tout, and a wafer of seaweed.

Comment: This was the first surprise, and incredible. Somehow they had removed all the ‘sweetness’ from the apple juice (which would’ve been overbearing next to the crab), leaving only the intense flavour. Instead they used the sweetness from the crab meat itself. This was combined with the slight salty bitterness of sea-weed (at least I think it was seaweed). Unbelievable.

- Royale de foie gras, jus de roquette et coriandre fraiche; jeune courgete aux épices chaudes, lentilles vertes du Puy et artichauts épineux.

Hot foie gras mousse, with arugula and cilantro juice, young grilled courgette, puy lentils, and shaved young artichoke.

Comment: This was deeply, upsettingly good. Hot foie gras mousse?! He cooks his vegetables and lentils boldly – really al dente. It felt like I was being taught something I was glad to learn.

- Merlan-rouget “Birdy”; gelee de thon rouge aux olives taggiasche; gnocchi noirs.

A piece of whiting, and mullet, sautéed and stacked on white beans, and a separate bowl with a slice of blue fin tuna, in a ‘jelly’ of tuna (I think) and pieces of black gnocchi.

Comment: The mullet and whiting were cooked perfectly, and the caramelised soft flesh went beautifully with the soft white beans. Then – all of sudden – this really strange bowl of translucent jelly, beneath which floated a perfect sliver of tuna surrounded by small black gnocchi? It’s like Ornette Coleman showing up for a Fleetwood Mac concert. How did it taste? Incredible. The jelly melted in the heat of your mouth, punctuated by the small gnocchi. And when you took a bite of one, and then the other? I started laughing out loud. What a surprise.

- Tails of crayfish in a light curry emulsion

The menu was oysters, which I haven’t learned to love (Rôti d’huitre “pied-de-cheval” de Prat a Coum, chorizo craquant; presée de poireau à la papaye ; amandes et vernis), so they gave me the above.

Comment: This was the only dish that didn’t knock me down – and my fault to boot for it being a substitution. It didn’t feel like it had a centre to it. I should have had the oysters.

- Asperges vertes Saint Vincent et pitchounes du père Blanc ; infusion d’agrumes au poivre de Malabar. Quenelles de langoustines à la maniguette.

An arrangement of small green asparagus, and one large white one, in a butter/vegetable infusion, with a quenelle of crawfish, and a small ‘tartlet’ of Roquefort (I think).

Comment: This had me laughing again – pure food for the brain. The asparagus was pitch perfect, the vegetable broth soft and buttery, the quenelle gently flavoured – everything very classical and unconfrontational – and then I saw this little tartlet sitting innocently on the side of the plate. I tried some, and POW! This had to be the stinkiest cheese I’d ever come close to. It was like a super ripe Roquefort reduced down to Roquefort essence, and then used to make a tiny tartlet. I just ended up laughing again. I’d felt lulled into a sense of safety, and then whacked over the head with the complete works of Wittgenstein. Really, really wonderful, and funny – but not a dish for your grandmother.

- Cuir de veau grillé à l’anguille laquée ; brochette de ris d’agneau enrobées d’une polenta à la pistache.

A skewer of Tête du veau – pan-roasted – with a glaze, and lamb sweetbreads coated in polenta.

Comment: If the above was for the brain, then this was for the soul. It was almost an illusion, seeming to be somewhere between jerk chicken, or chicken satay. The sauce on the téte du veau reminded me of a Thai peanut sauce, with a background of veal glace. And then, on the side, was what resembled a piece of fried plantain. I bite into it, and it turns out to be the most incredible lamb sweetbreads. A dash of crimson crossed the plate, a reduced raspberry vinegar perhaps? This would be a dish to have on death row. Forget the final words, just give me one more bite. Well, I thought this was true, until I had:

- Traditionnel pigeon aux petits pois. Aubergines, fenouil et oignons bebetes au cidre fermier. Une chartreuse froide.

Traditional pigeon with peas. Aubergines, fennel and onions bebetes with farm cider. Chartreuse cold.

Comment: Okay, I was getting a little emotional at this point. It’s possible I was talking to myself. Traditional pigeon? Where is this a tradition? Right here, right now I renounce all claims of citizenship and ask for asylum where-ever they’ve been making pigeon this good. And I know the menu above says aubergine (egg-plant, for Americans), but I’m pretty sure they’re lying. My brain was telling me it was some kind of as-yet-unheard-of foie gras. Maybe engorged pigeon liver. I still don’t believe it. The petites pois were blanched and skinned, leaving the bright green half-peas which again were cooked boldly. The fennel was braised, I think, and delicate. The flesh of the pigeon breast was deep red in the centre. And the effect? It was like the first time you fall in love. It was terrible, tormented bliss. I was a wreck.

- Le fromage

Tête do moins(?) with creme freche, Roquefort, and an aged orange cheese, like Dutch gouda, with eschallot mousse.

Comment: thankfully, you get relief. Back to the brain. And I could have the names wrong. A selection of three ‘composed’ cheese course on one plate – similar to what the French Laundry does (although they only do a single).

- Deserts

Petite fours

Chocolate terrine

White and dark chocolate mousse

Wild strawberries with cucumber mousse

Strawberry sorbet on a reduction of strawberries, and champagne jelly with wild flowers

You think you can keep going? Bang. Six different deserts (five listed above) that they plonk down in front of you at the same time. Three chocolate, and three fruit. Different textures, and ranges of sweetness. On one side, the mousse; on the other, the wild strawberries – almost completely unsweet, and interestingly paired with the cucumber cream.

With the espresso at the end, the final bill came to 235 Euros. I had one glass of champagne, and two bottles of water.

And as I left to walk out into a perfect Parisian spring afternoon, guess who was standing by the door? Gagnaire himself, who shook my hand, and said thank you, and wished me a pleasant day.

Ah, it was the meal of my life.

"Gimme a pig's foot, and a bottle of beer..." Bessie Smith

Flickr Food

"111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321" Bruce Frigard 'Winesonoma' - RIP

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Welcome, MobyP. I hope you'll write more, and I hope you'll tell us more about your own background (either here or in the "bios" forum).

Jonathan Day

"La cuisine, c'est quand les choses ont le go�t de ce qu'elles sont."

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My word, MobyP, that was a simply a tremendous post.

Please do write more.

"I've caught you Richardson, stuffing spit-backs in your vile maw. 'Let tomorrow's omelets go empty,' is that your fucking attitude?" -E. B. Farnum

"Behold, I teach you the ubermunch. The ubermunch is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: the ubermunch shall be the meaning of the earth!" -Fritzy N.

"It's okay to like celery more than yogurt, but it's not okay to think that batter is yogurt."

Serving fine and fresh gratuitous comments since Oct 5 2001, 09:53 PM

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Would it be of interest to hear about the menu and your impressions? Lucky me. I get to answer that question after the fact. I found your impressions made for a very interesting post. If I don't compliment you sufficiently, it's because just as you don't see restaurant cooking as competition, I don't want to see people post competitively here and I don't want to discourage others from posting because they won't match your eloquence. Without reference to posts that have come before yours, nor to those that will follow, I will say I feel honored to have your post on Gagnaire and hope we see other posts from you. This one was beautiful and I hope it starts a new discussion on Gagnaire. It's a post I will want to reread a few times before engaging in that discussion, but it largely echos my feelings about dining at Gagnaire. As Sandra Levine notes, there have been previous threads on Gagnaire and I hope you enjoy reading them.

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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I feel like the kid who just showed up to the party, three hours late, and wonders why there's a guy standing naked in the middle of the room, covered in duck fat. I'm just worried the other guests will think me terribly passé for asking.

Thank you, everyone, for the welcome - and Sandra for the other discussions.

There seems to be a fundemental question running through the previous discussions with regard Gagnaire which I find interesting, which is: who is Gagnaire cooking for? I think it is very clear that Ducasse, where I had dinner the night before, is trying to provide you with that 3 star experience. The food, the wine - even the bill (not that Gagnaire didn’t take food out of my unborn children’s mouths, but still, it was so good...).

Some music is there to entertain. Some theatre too. Some painting, as well. But then there’s the stuff you remove your hat for. You understand it’s not going to be about you, or what you know or thought you knew. It’s going to be about a man or woman who has travelled a certain path, and wants to show you something. And I’m not saying there’s any lack of reverance in the people who come here – quite the opposite. But sometimes the line isn’t clear. My meal was less than spectacular at Ducasse, not because the food wasn’t at an extremely high level, but rather because I thought the meal failed ultimately on the level that Ducasse himself was proposing. “My food is about this.... the experience I want you to have is this... etc.”

Equally, I don’t think my wife would’ve had the same experience at Gagnaire that I had. I don’t think she would have found the roquefort tart served with the asparagus ‘funny,’ as I did. Or dived as quickly into the tuna jelly, because it just seemed so bizarre (and it was delicious). The reward in this meal, for me, came from walking off cliff-edges without seeing anything that would offer any support, and then – voila – look, I’m flying! If I had been timid at Gagnaire, I would've had a difficult time choosing anything. As it is, the major flaw in the meal, as I see it, was my timidity over the roast oysters.

But, in the end, the tongue is the tongue. My wife is a pickier eater than I, and I am pickier than others (although personally I think we’re all picky over something – just some of us you can’t take to the “Festival of Yak Meat and interpretive Dance”).

"Gimme a pig's foot, and a bottle of beer..." Bessie Smith

Flickr Food

"111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321" Bruce Frigard 'Winesonoma' - RIP

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Gagnaire may have been the first restaurant that thrilled me, yet one to which I was unwilling to issue the banket "you've got to eat there" recommendation. Then again that might have been El Bulli, although I think I ate at Gagnaire first, but the same idea applies. I want my food to taste good, but that's not always enough and I'm willing to risk that for a challenging meal.

Nevertheless, you should have had the oysters. :biggrin: Actually I love oysters and on second thought maybe I should have second thoughts about your having the oysters. Without checking my menu, the oysters I had at Gagnaire were combined on the plate with something else and I believe it may have been sweetbreads. I love both oysters and sweetbreads and found the dish tasted of neither, but was delicious. For mnay chefs, the cardinal feature of contemporary cooking is that food tastes of the material used. Heavy sauces should not be used and light sauces should reinforce the natural flavors. Gagnaire can be an alchemist creating a new food. Rules are often made to be broken and none more so than the last set replacing all previous ones as if they're meant to be the final rules.

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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Great writing, MobyP! Welcome to eGullet, and I hope to read many more posts by you.

My parents, brother and I had lunch at Grand Vefour last summer. My mother and I were blown away, but my brother, though enjoying the meal, preferred the first of two meals we had at the Michelin 1-star Michel Vignaud in Chablis (our 2nd meal there was a big disappointment). My father was hard to please at French restaurants because he was on a low-fat diet.

Anyway, I provide that background because I was just talking to my mother on the phone and wondered aloud whether I or she would have loved the meal you had at Gagnaire as much as you did. I really don't know, and would never know unless I tried those dishes there. But it sure was fun reading your report!

Edited by Pan (log)

Michael aka "Pan"

 

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I feel like the kid who just showed up to the party, three hours late, and wonders why there's a guy standing naked in the middle of the room, covered in duck fat.

Where is that party precisely?

right here :rolleyes:

"Gimme a pig's foot, and a bottle of beer..." Bessie Smith

Flickr Food

"111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321" Bruce Frigard 'Winesonoma' - RIP

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I was just talking to my mother on the phone and wondered aloud whether I or she would have loved the meal you had at Gagnaire as much as you did. I really don't know, and would never know unless I tried those dishes there.

Pan -

thanks. And yes. I left there like a ten year old who had just seen the most amazing magic show, but I think that's also - to some degree - how I entered (if that makes any sense).

Also, I wonder if my experience would've been different if my wife had joined me - I think we feed off and are complicit in the emotions of those we dine with, and if she hadn't enjoyed herself, maybe my own enjoyment would have been affected.

The comments about Gagnaire have made me think about that book. You know - everyone has their own version - it's the one on the bedside table that you've been promising yourself you'd get around to reading one day. Well - for me it was the Iliad by Homer. I must've fallen asleep by page 27 half a dozen times. Then one day I picked it up, and it was the best thing I'd ever read. All of which is to say - sometimes we are just ready for these things. And other times, we're asleep by page 27.

It doesn't help that - from what I've read elsewhere - some people think Gagnaire's food is inconsistent. I just felt incredibly lucky.

"Gimme a pig's foot, and a bottle of beer..." Bessie Smith

Flickr Food

"111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321" Bruce Frigard 'Winesonoma' - RIP

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I feel like the kid who just showed up to the party, three hours late, and wonders why there's a guy standing naked in the middle of the room, covered in duck fat.

Where is that party precisely?

right here :rolleyes:

:biggrin:

And magic show. Yes, makes complete sense. This is supposed to be fun, right? Thanks again.

Now back to the naked guy...

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Now back to the naked guy...

The naked guy was covered in goose fat, as I recall. Never forget, we're all naked under our clothes. :cool:

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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Bux: You've got to be the "Alan Greenspan " of food writers. What is the point of your message?

I'm flattered you think of me as a food writer, even if you find my posts pointless.

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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Great post Moby.  Can you say (i) More or less how much did you pay and (ii) whether Gagnaire offers a prix-fixe lunch?

ViaMichelin, the online version of the red guide, shows an 85 euro menu served at lunch only.

www.viamichelin.com is a great source. The one thing that's missing is a map with the star locations. I find that page of great use when planning an itinerary that's not predicated solely on hitting three star places. Sometimes we are going from point A to point B and willing to make detours for one and two star places. When on the road in France, the actual guide in printed form, is absolutely necessary to know there's a starred place just ten kilometers ahead when I'm thinking of stopping for lunch -- at least until we have some sort of wireless hookup to the net via laptop or PDA.

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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i ll be in paris as of may 13th, for Gagnaire, should i make a lunch reservation before i leave or is it relatively slow during the week?

Lauren

"Is there anything here that wasn't brutally slaughtered" Lisa Simpson at a BBQ

"I think that the veal might have died from lonliness"

Homer

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Great post Moby.  Can you say (i) . . . (ahem fast readers don't go to heaven)  (ii) whether Gagnaire offers a prix-fixe lunch?

The cost of my lunch (as you probably saw) was roughly what it would take to feed a football team, plus management, and groundskeepers, and some of the local supporters, if you took them to the local café, and possibly to the cinema afterwards.

This was for two sets of reasons. First, the menu is very large, and very extensive (and each individual item has a very large number next to it). My French is middling. I was a bit intimidated. And I didn't want to sit there, having ordered three dishes, and see a cavalcade of amazing looking food pass me by.

Second, I was on my own, and the only way I wasn't going to feel ridiculous was if I ordered the full tasting menu. I wanted everything. This turned out to be a whopping 15 or 16 courses, but what a journey it was.

As for prix-fixe - I think that comes down to self control. As I said, the cost printed next to some of the courses - we're talking BIG numbers.

Lauren - I was there on a Tuesday lunch, and the place was full. I would say book before you leave, if you can. They and Ducasse were very insistent on having a Paris phone number though, so have that ready.

Have fun - and let us know everything!

Edited by MobyP (log)

"Gimme a pig's foot, and a bottle of beer..." Bessie Smith

Flickr Food

"111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321" Bruce Frigard 'Winesonoma' - RIP

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Lauren, I'd guess you are already too late to reserve for May, but why waste more time?

I don't want to dissuade anyone from having Gagnaire's 85 euro prix fixe menu. I've not had it. However, I would like to support MobyP's position from limited experience elsewhere. I have found that sometimes the least expensive menu at any restaurant is not necessarily the best buy. At times it merely hints at why the chef is famous and gives the barest indication of what the restaurant can do. Only once can I recall having both the least expensive prix fixe and the most expensive gasstronomic menu in the same restaurant. There was no comparison. Both were good meals, but the expensive one was the better value offering more bang per buck--or franc, at the time. Given a choice between two prix fixe and one tasting menu, I'd easily opt for the single tasting menu. I understand that others have had better luck and some gastronomes consider it a good way to learn about food and chefs and a part of their process in deciding when and where to go the whole way.

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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