Dinner at Le Chateaubriand, Paris

I've just completed a pretty intensive summer programme in France's Loire Valley region near to Paris - no prizes for guessing I was going to chill out in the capital now and explore some new restaurants during this extended weekend break!

First stop, which had been on my wish-list for quite some time now: Le Chateaubriand, a famous gastro-brasserie in the northeastern corner of Paris, far enough from the central tourist traps but very conveniently located just 2 minutes' walk from Goncourt metro station. Not surprisingly perhaps due to his Basque origin, head chef Inaki Aizpitarte, the enfant terrible of the largely conservative Parisian gastronomic scene, has created a niche for himself by serving unconventional and eclectic fare in a casual atmosphere. The setting feels just like a typical French brasserie, yet the cuisine is anything but what one might expect from such a place - no escargots, duck confit, coq au vin, beef bourguignon etc. (you get the idea). In fact, they serve only one tasting menu that changes daily depending on what's good in the markets. At 60 euros per person without wine, it is indeed a pretty good deal by Parisian standards. If any more motivation is needed, this restaurant has also made it to the prestigious St. Pellegrino's list (very unusual for casual places) at No. 15 in 2012 and No. 18 this year. Their website is extremely sparse, which imparts somewhat an air of exclusivity, but at least gives you enough information to make a booking and to find your way there.

There is only one evening service five days a week and the place is quite small, so bookings are essential and are only accepted through telephone 14 days in advance. Walk-ins are possible but you'll have to queue for the second sitting from 9.30pm onwards, if your stomach can wait till that late! On this evening, I witnessed many people trying their luck at a walk-in, but all of them had to be told to come back at 9.30pm or visit one of the many other restaurants on the same street. As for me, I had been offered a seat at the bar two weeks ago as all the tables had been taken within 30 minutes of the opening of the reservation line that day. Of course I'd have preferred a table, but not willing to queue indefinitely from 9.30pm I took the bar seat anyway, which turned out to be a really nice thing as I could observe all the workings of the restaurant from my little corner and even mingle with the walk-in folks who came to queue later in the evening.

Arriving at opening time to a near-empty restaurant,
where the staff were still making preparations for the evening.

One of two seats at the bar which I was lucky enough to get, with
most of the friendly service team who attended to me this evening.
They were a good mix of nationalities, as diverse as the food itself.

Truly no-frills setting - even the wine list is
printed on normal paper which is then roughly
bound together. The only hint of sophistication
is a white napkin, more typical of posh
establishments than of casual brasseries.

Flurry of activity in the small kitchen at the beginning of service.

A friendly Italian waitress came to my seat, handed me the tasting menu (in French only) on a single piece of photocopied paper, and asked me if I would like the courses to be explained in detail now, or if I would allow myself to be 'surprised' first and then to be filled in on the details only after the meal. I don't mind surprises, but the excitement of knowing what's coming appeals to me more, so I asked to be let in on the weird and wonderful details from the very beginning. She was reading off a tatty piece of paper, which I asked to photograph for the purposes of documentation for this blog. As you can probably imagine by now, there are utterly no pretensions in the service in this restaurant.

To start, I was served a succession of amuse-bouches to heighten the sense of anticipation for the meal proper.

Amuse-bouche 1: cheese gougères with black poppy seeds.

Starting off on a really good note, this traditional French appetiser of choux pastry mixed with cheese was delightfully warm. Each ball had a perfectly crisp crust and really fluffy insides, and each bite resulted in an immediate release of wonderful cheesy aromas within the palate. A coating of poppy seeds on each ball added both a nice crunch in texture and a pleasantly nutty sesame-like edge to the flavour.

Amuse bouche 2: raspberry ceviche.

This popular Central/South American dish of marinated raw fish was given a fruity twist here in a tiny sake cup-lookalike. It was probably intended more as an apéritif than as a real dish, insofar as there wasn't actually any seafood, and only the 'marinade' was featured. A single raspberry was left soaking in a spiced citrus and berry juice blend that was unmistakably seasoned with coriander and peppers. The result was incredibly tart, crisp and aromatic, and just this small amount was rather effective in stimulating and cleansing the palate - any more might have had a puckering effect.

Amuse bouche 3: accra with mango powder.

A reference to the popular snack of the Caribbean region, this salt fish fritter (from cod) reminded me very much of an Indian bhaji in taste and texture. The contents were meaty and delicious with a liberal use of herbs and spices, though I would have preferred a crispier crust - a bit more flour in the batter perhaps? The sprinkling was announced as 'mango powder', though strangely enough I couldn't detect any sweetness; it tasted much more like a curry spice mix, not that I was complaining!

Amuse bouche 4: artichoke barigoule with purslane, wakame powder, and a vinagrette of white wine and chicken liver.

This was a refreshing warm dish with a slightly bitter and tart taste. The sheer variety of textures - from the tender and juicy artichokes, to the crunchy and meaty purslane leaves and the rich and creamy dressing - was delightful. The use of seaweed powder and chicken liver imparted a lovely depth of flavour to an otherwise potentially bland salad.

Amuse bouche 5: smoked herring clear soup.

Can't go wrong with this one - very aromatic and tasty indeed, though perhaps it wouldn't be too much to expect something of greater complexity from one of the world's best restaurants? Or maybe even just a slice of herring in addition to that one leaf floating in the soup?

Starter: sautéed squid, blanched and pickled turnips, purslane, cocoa nibs, mussel jus with capers and butter.

I personally found the turnips excessive, a tad too puckering in taste and strangely incongruent with the rest of the dish, but otherwise it was a pretty good dish overall with a lovely surprise to which I'll now come. Cocoa nibs with squid you ask? In small amounts that worked really well actually, with the cocoa's intense bittersweet flavour imparting an appropriate edge to the natural umami of the squid. It was one of those experiences that made you sit up and think, 'Wow, I didn't know that was possible.' The squid itself was very well cooked too - tender and effortless to chew through, unlike the all-too-common rubbery examples which put people off - while the mussel jus enhanced with butter added further flavour and a touch of richness in texture, with mild zing from capers to keep it all in balance.

Fish course: tuna from the Île d'Yeu, baked heritage tomatoes, figs, pimentón (Spanish paprika) and dill sauce with a touch of licorice.

Île d'Yeu: an island just off the Vendée coast of Western France, its two harbours are particularly famous for the fishing of tuna and lobster.

Tomatoes and figs are currently in season in France, and both these produce were put to brilliant use in this dish. The tomatoes were extremely juicy and had an astonishingly deep flavour, very sweet with a smoky edge from the oven baking. The fresh fig slices were equally divine, with a remarkable sweetness and a rich creamy texture. These two ingredients were a lovely pairing for the well-cooked chunk of tuna, which was fresh and flavourful without being excessively fishy, as inferior or mishandled examples tend to be. This chunk was also rather thick, yet remained moist and succulent throughout.

An unexpected and delightful touch was again to be found, this time in the sauce. I was quite puzzled at that time as my waitress had introduced it as a paprika sauce, yet it had a very distinct chorizo taste that brought me right into the realm of Spanish cuisine. Not knowing very much about pimentón and doing some basic online searches as I write this, I found that this very special Spanish variety is dried by smoking, usually with oak wood, hence the distinct smoky aroma and flavour - so I wasn't hallucinating after all! Spanish paprika is also typically milder and sweeter than its more famous Hungarian counterpart, and was definitely the better choice here for complementing the natural flavours of the main components. A touch of dill and licorice added further freshness to this already tasty sauce. All in all, an extremely well conceived dish.

Meat course (main): Secreto Ibérico pork, girolles, celeriac tabbouleh, XO sauce.

Secreto Ibérico: literally 'Iberian secret', this special cut of meat comes from between the shoulder blade and the loin of the prized acorn-fed Iberian black pigs. The meat is typically lean and lightly marbled with fat. This tasty 'secret' is one of the most valuable parts of the pig as quantities are low; only a pair of small pieces may be derived from each large full-grown pig (though not as small as what you see here, I must say!).

Fancy getting XO sauce in a French restaurant! This popular Cantonese condiment (nothing to do with cognac, by the way) usually made of chopped dried seafood (mainly shrimp) cooked in a mixture of chilli, garlic and canola oil was incredibly delicious. If this kitchen did make it from scratch, it was very impressive even to a Chinese person. The only catch: its spiciness and its concentrated shrimp taste overpowered almost every other component on the plate, which was a shame since the meagre slice of pork (which looked more like a rasher of bacon in size and thickness) and few sautéed girolles had truly excellent flavours and aromas of their own. It was a generally enjoyable dish since I'm partial towards the XO sauce, but objectively I couldn't quite tell what the focus of this dish was. I found the pork itself a tad dry and chewy, which was probably due to its leanness, but a kitchen of this rank should do better I think. The 'tabbouleh' topping made of chopped and grilled celeriac with a sprinkling of chives was lovely though, very crunchy with a refreshingly delicate flavour - a welcome relief amidst the surrounding opulence.

Dessert 1: avocado ice cream, frozen sorrel, coriander.

This was a lovely little palate cleanser. The ice cream had a delicate sweetness and a smooth creamy texture, which was effectively balanced by a sorrel granité with a grainy icy texture and a sharp taste. A generous garnish of coriander provided further refreshment with its characteristically strong aroma with bitter citrus overtones.

Dessert 2: 'Tocino del cielo' - egg yolk with a burnt sugar crust, on a caramel choux pastry base surrounded by almond powder.

'Tocino del cielo': a traditional dessert from southern Spain, the name oddly translates to 'bacon from heaven', though no one really knows why. It is very similar to crème caramel in appearance, but there are a couple of differences in the raw ingredients: while the latter is made with whole eggs, milk and cream, tocino del cielo is made only with egg yolks, sugar and water, resulting in a feather-light and extremely smooth custard.

Perfectly runny yolk!

The signature dessert of this restaurant which I've often seen featured in online reviews, this was of course a re-interpretation that looked nothing like the original, though the basic ingredients of egg yolk and sugar were respected. Cracking open the sugar crust revealed a perfectly runny yolk, which is always delightful to watch. The flavours were generally straightforward but effective, with liquid caramel on the pastry base and almond powder as lovely complements - you can't really go wrong with those two! I thought the presentation was rather creative as well.

To end the meal, pieces of white peach garnished with seeds such as sesame, linseed and caraway were offered. I didn't quite understand the rationale for the garnish and personally felt that this was quite a sloppy and unnecessary touch as it actually detracted from the enjoyment of the peach, which was extremely sweet and juicy. It would have been better to leave the fruit alone, or at least offer some closer pairing, if the restaurant felt that that would be too 'simple' to justify its current status.

Some final pictures before I left, as the queue was building up for the unreserved 9.30 pm sitting. Had a pretty good chat with the two couples queuing nearest to me (pictured in the first photo) about other good restaurants in Paris; something to keep in mind for the future definitely!

Can't imagine queuing like this for more than an hour
in colder seasons! This happens everyday, according
to the staff; such is the fame of this restaurant.

This evening's dinner reminded me very much of Radio in Copenhagen (see my review from last December), though I still prefer the latter's food for its greater sophistication, more vivid flavours and underlying deference to the culinary origins of the locality. While Le Chateaubriand is still a good restaurant with a point to make, certain aspects of the food tonight were clearly more style than substance, and didn't always work as well as they should have, even if nothing was truly offensive. Also, while diversity might be the philosophy of this restaurant, I would have liked to sense some sort of fundamental coherence between the dishes on the tasting menu, instead of it coming across as a hodge-podge of random ideas for the day, drawn from arbitrary food cultures. Am I being overly picky? Perhaps, but when a restaurant is rated 18th best in the world alongside its Michelin-starred competitors, it should stand up to such scrutiny, and to be honest I am not entirely sure that Le Chateaubriand deserves its current elevated status. There were surely a couple of kinks to iron out with some of tonight's dishes, which is hardly surprising if the kitchen remains true to its claim of changing the menu daily; as they say practice makes perfect, and that takes time!

Having said that however, and putting all those honours aside and considering only its culinary merits, Le Chateaubriand still offers a very good deal with some genuinely creative ideas in a completely relaxed environment, and is definitely worth a try as an introduction to alternative gastronomy in Paris, without breaking the bank.

The service was generally very friendly, unpretentious and efficient; all staff spoke English and were very willing to accommodate any requests or questions about the food. Admittedly the service could hardly be as personal or attentive as what one might expect from a posher establishment, but it worked just fine within a casual brasserie setting and I wasn't expecting to be waited upon hand and foot anyway, so no complaints there.