Lunch at Alléno Paris (Pavillon Ledoyen), Paris

This afternoon, I finally made it to one of my dream Parisian restaurants for the first spot of fine-dining of this French sojourn. Pavillon Ledoyen, situated at the eastern end of the world-famous Champs-Élysées on a large green space and overlooking the Petit Palais, has been a temple of gastronomy for more than two centuries with a fascinating history and an illustrious track record. It was established as a formal restaurant in 1792 and transferred to its present location in 1842. Pavillon Ledoyen was a favourite amongst major French artists and writers of the 19th century, and most famously also the regular meeting place of Napoleon and his wife Joséphine. The building is currently owned by the City of Paris although the restaurant is in private hands. Ledoyen has maintained 3 Michelin stars since 2002, first under Christian Le Squer (who has now taken over the reins at Le Cinq) and now Yannick Alléno, former head chef at Le Meurice, who returned to Paris in July 2014 to head Ledoyen after a brief absence from Paris. 

I arrived in perfect weather and my excitement was palpable as I approached the imposing Neoclassical building with large glass windows.

I was first greeted by the doorman on the red carpet, then by a warm and smiling receptionist, who quickly ushered me up to the main dining room on the first floor. I caught a glimpse of the truly impressive space on the ground floor, and made a mental note to explore it after lunch.

The architecture and interior are as formal as I would expect from a historical building and triple-starred restaurant, but the atmosphere is considerably softened by the use of pastel-coloured panelling and the abundance of natural light due to the glass windows that surround the building. The tasteful décor, with carefully-placed contemporary artwork and bouquets of seasonal flowers, also adds a touch of sophistication.

As requested, I had a table by the window with a lovely view of the dining room and its surrounding greenery. The elegantly appointed room which seats 45 was bright, airy and spacious, bathed in natural light, with a high ceiling and pastel colours throughout, including the restaurant's signature light green upholstery. Being one of the first customers to arrive for lunch, I had nearly the whole space to myself for quite a while, and it was as relaxed and cosy as one could get in a top-class restaurant. The tables are well spaced apart for privacy, and the service is attentive and efficient, but not intrusive.

I chose the four-course lunch menu at 135€, with a substitution for my main course as I wasn't too keen on the Bresse chicken that was offered. As you will see, that substitution turned out to be my favourite dish of today's lunch.

First, a line-up of canapés served on a hard green bread base (only for decorative purposes): from right to left, yellow beetroot ravioli filled with carrot purée, sitting in a small pool of concentrated sorrel juice and garnished with cumin seeds; hibiscus tuile filled with a mousse of Cévennes onions and garnished with wood sorrel; and beetroot brioche stuffed with wild black rice, shallots and parsley, accompanied by a sauce of seaweed, garlic and ponzu. (I am describing them in the order in which I was recommended to eat them.)

Already from the beginning there were some truly striking flavour combinations, partly due to the increasing awareness in recent years of the possibilities of exotic Asian spices and condiments in French gastronomy. A delicate acidity ran through all three canapés, which both stimulated the appetite and maintained an apt lightness, in anticipation of the real feast ahead. The ravioli was easily likeable; both beetroot and carrot derivatives had a pleasant earthy sweetness that was perfectly accentuated by the warm, nutty and peppery taste of cumin, and balanced surprisingly but effectively by a crisp tart aftertaste from the sorrel juice. A similar sweet-sour equilibrium played out in the next morsel, with the cranberry-like astringency of hibiscus and tart wood sorrel garnish contrasting nicely with a mousse made from sweet and mildly aromatic Cévennes onions (the only onion cultivar in France with an AOC award). Furthermore, the contrast in textures between the extremely fragile and crispy tuile and the rich and smooth mousse was quite delightful indeed. Finally, the most savoury and substantial of the canapés featured a crisp and airy brioche, infused with the deep earthiness of red beetroot, and filled with a warm, satisfying and fragrant combination of rice and herbs. Its Japanese-inspired accompanying sauce, a concentrated seaweed concoction with a smooth jam-like consistency, was an easy match for the existing flavours and aromas of the brioche. However, like the jewel in the crown, the ponzu base was the truly inspired touch, with its sharp taste discreetly and effectively elevating the overall umami of the sauce, whilst keeping the palate fresh and invigorated for the following courses. It was amazing how well a French chef had understood the nature of this Japanese condiment and appropriated it in his own cultural context. Alléno is in fact particularly well-known in France for his mastery of sauces, and the seaweed sauce was surely a first hint at that.

Bread followed shortly, and I chose two varieties: black olive with sea salt, and multigrain sourdough.

The breads, still warm to the touch and fragrant, were accompanied by both salted and unsalted butter that were very rich and creamy. The black olive bread was soft, fluffy, and generously studded with juicy pieces of black olives, with a delicate sprinkling of sea salt that intensified their briny taste, while the multigrain sourdough was crisp, airy and nutty, with a very mild acidity from the initial process of fermentation. Really nobody does their bread and butter better than the French - I would have gladly asked for more but I also knew that I had to save my stomach space for the actual courses!

Starter

Fine gelée d'un jambon Ibérique, mousse fermentée de pain de seigle aux éclats d'olives Kalamata

Fine jelly of Iberico ham, fermented mousse of rye bread with Kalamata olives

Following on from the excellent canapés, this dish was one masterpiece of a kickstarter for the meal proper. Extremely delicate textures belied some truly intense and vivid flavours here. First, a clear and light jellied base made from Iberico ham consommé unified the predominantly salty components of this dish effectively, with its concentrated smoky and nutty taste underlying each mouthful. This was topped with actual slices of Iberico ham which were delightfully silky and succulent with just the right amount of fat, and had an even nuttier taste than its jellied derivative. On the side, a smooth, airy and earthy mousse made from the essence of rye complemented the ham's nutty flavour perfectly, while slight fermentation produced a mild acidity that tempered the overall saltiness of this starter aptly. Feather-light wafers of toasted rye bread were also present for a pleasant crispiness to go with each bite. Finally, a sprinkling of Kalamata olives, a meaty purple-black variety harvested from Kalamata in Greece and awarded PDO status within the EU, provided further bursts of flavour with their fresh briny taste accentuated by hints of bitterness. On the whole, this memorable dish packed quite a punch despite its dainty appearance, and the balance of flavours and textures was quite impressive indeed.

Fish

Filets de sole braisés en nage printanière, volée de cerfeuil

Fillets of sole braised in a spring broth, with a fresh chervil garnish 

In stark contrast to the previous starter, this was as delicate and elegant in taste as it was in presentation. The sole was incredibly moist, tender and velvety in texture, and its mild flavour was well matched by its equally light braising sauce based on green tomatoes. This sauce had an almost watery consistency, and yet was anything but bland; its subtle sweetness and crisp taste certainly underscored the freshness of the fish. Alléno as a master of sauces sprang to mind once again. Fresh spring peas within the broth contributed further sweetness as well as a gentle crunch in each mouthful. A truly seasonal touch came in the form of fresh meaty girolles, which imparted a lovely fruity aroma and peppery taste that were surprisingly apt complements to the fish (one would normally expect mushrooms to be rather earthy and intense). We are currently at the peak of girolle season so there couldn't have been a better reason to use these highly-prized mushrooms here. To finish, sprigs of chervil were scattered on top of the fish only prior to serving, hence preserving fully its warm and understated anise-like flavour with a slight bitterness. A close relative of parsley, one can't go wrong pairing chervil with fish, though its usage can be a challenge as chervil quickly loses its flavour under exposure to any sort of heat. No such problem here fortunately. What lay before me was a simple but glorious celebration of produce, showcasing each ingredient at its best, and assembling them in perfect harmony.

Meat

Boeuf wagyu Gunma <Grade 4> ferré au sautoir, pommes de terre de Noirmoutier tapées au lait frit, condiments iodés

Pan-seared Grade 4 wagyu from Gunma Prefecture in Japan, pressed Noirmoutier potatoes with fried milk, iodised condiments

This was the absolute pièce de résistance of today's lunch, and I am so glad that I made the substitution. One can never go wrong with real Japanese beef (as opposed to Australian 'wagyu' which in my opinion doesn't even begin to compare), and here I had two chunks of medium rare heaven, even if they were rather small! The meat was extremely tender and melt-in-the-mouth due to the opulent marbling of authentic wagyu. When my server proudly told me that it would feel more like foie gras than beef, I knew exactly what he meant. I was also informed that Japanese beef had only been authorised for import into France over a year ago, around the time Ledoyen opened its doors under Alléno. He clearly knows what's great! Seared on the surfaces to a browned perfection, all that this wonderfully intense meat needed for seasoning was a light sprinkling of pepper and coarse sea salt. The sauce, a rich beef demi-glace, was of course the most natural complement to the meat.

On the side, no luxury was spared with three small potatoes from Noirmoutier, a village on an island in the Atlantic Ocean, just off the coast of the Loire region in Western France. Noirmoutier is famous for cultivating the most expensive potatoes in the world, known as the 'La Bonnotte' variety. Only 100 tons are produced annually, and the potatoes must be fertilised by seaweed and harvested by hand. Not exactly your daily staple, they are only available in top restaurants in France. As expected, these three lovely morsels had a naturally earthy and salty flavour perfect for the beef, and frying with dashi (a seaweed and bonito stock - one of the two 'iodised condiments', and the mother stock of Japanese cuisine) then lightly pressing them resulted in an even more concentrated umami. Their texture was also simply delightful - lightly browned and crisp on the surface, with soft and fluffy insides. On top of each potato were placed a small cube of fried milk curd, rich and creamy in texture with a mild charred taste, and a dollop of mustard infused with oyster reduction (the other 'iodised condiment'), deep in flavour with a fresh spicy kick, perfect for rejuvenating the palate. Could meat and potatoes get any better than this?

It was around this time that Alléno himself emerged from the kitchen to greet guests, and when it was my turn I certainly didn't miss the opportunity to compliment him on a stellar meal thus far and to have a photo. For a top chef, he was a lot more affable and obliging than I would have imagined.

Pre-dessert

(on the tray) cocoa wafers, confit pineapple wrapped in marzipan, and a traditional Mexican (Aztec) drink of cocoa, vanilla and tonka beans with a dash of pepper

(in the bowl) pear and vanilla sorbet with candied lemon verbena and pear cubes marinated in cider vinegar

Savoury courses done, I was now ready to be impressed by Alléno's pastry chefs. First up, a lovely sorbet that served as a palate cleanser, with a very light and smooth texture, and a fresh sweetness from pear remarkably enhanced by the warm aroma of crushed vanilla pods. Balance came in the form of juicy pear cubes that had been marinated in a mildly acidic cider vinegar, as well as crisp candied leaves of lemon verbena that perfumed the sorbet with their characteristic citrusy aroma. All in all, a very refreshing and effective transition from the substantial preceding dish to sweets.

The heavier second part of pre-dessert featured two cocoa-based items, with a cube of pineapple in the middle for balance. I found the drink particularly interesting, due largely to the infusion of tonka beans, which are native to South America and hugely popular in top French restaurants (though strangely enough, they are officially banned in the US due to the presence of potentially toxic compounds). The wonderfully heady and complex aroma of this bean was evident; there were hints of vanilla, sour cherry, almond and cinnamon, with a mild grassy/hay-like aftertaste. Combined with pure cocoa, vanilla pods and pepper, the result was a fresh, bitter and earthy drink with hints of fruits and nuts, and a warm and spicy finish. Definitely not your typical sweetened hot chocolate with milk despite the similar appearances! On the other side of the plate, wafers made from pure cocoa delighted with their light and crisp texture and deep fruity bitterness, while a juicy cube of pineapple wrapped in a thin layer of smooth and chewy marzipan contributed an essential sweetness, and fit the tropical theme of this platter nicely. With such outstanding pre-desserts, I could hardly wait to see and taste what other surprises would follow in the main dessert and petit fours.

Dessert

Meringue soufflée de fraises au sésame noir, chlorophylle de shiso

Black sesame meringue with strawberry compote, crushed shiso leaves and black sesame sorbet

The potent flavour of cocoa in the pre-dessert turned out to be a pertinent link to the main dessert, which again was inspired by Japan and the popularity of black sesame desserts there. Compared to the more common white sesame, black sesame offers significantly more health benefits, and in my opinion also has a stronger aroma and deeper nuttier flavour. Indeed, the intensity of this seed was present in full force, both in the sorbet and the meringue - you'd never have guessed from their dainty textures. The meringue was incredibly crisp and airy, while the sorbet was as light and smooth as expected. Nestled within each meringue was also a compote of strawberries, which had kept their shape surprisingly well, and were very soft and plump in texture, with a concentrated tanginess from the long hours of stewing and reducing. Another Japanese touch came in the form of crushed shiso leaves under the sorbet. In Japan, shiso leaves are normally used whole, as a garnish for raw fish; they are said to have anti-bacterial and anti-inflammatory properties. However, their unique minty flavour is also ideal for certain dishes, and many chefs in the West have also picked up on their suitability for desserts. I really loved the use of shiso here; it was truly a welcome breath of fresh air amidst the powerful nuttiness of black sesame and the vivid sweetness of the compote. There was one final unusual ingredient: a sprinkling of black Iranian lime (also known as 'loomi') powder, produced by boiling limes in salt water and drying them in the sun until the inside flesh turns jet black, then pulverising the flesh. This citrus spice powder had a remarkably sweet taste, and a deep aroma with hints of fermentation, that gave the dessert a pleasantly piquant finish. On the whole, I found this marriage of two very different culinary cultures well balanced and sophisticated, with nice little surprises for the sensitive palate.

Petit fours

Guinness crème brûlée tart, chocolate truffles, green tea

A fine French meal isn't complete without further confectioneries to round off the main dessert, and today two indulgent items were offered: first, dark chocolate truffles, dusted with cocoa powder and sitting on a bed of cocoa nibs (edible, but mainly for decorative purposes as they are rather hard and bitter). These chocolate truffles were extremely soft, chewy and rich, being made directly from a thick and simple mixture of fresh cream and chocolate that had been heated, then allowed to cool and set in a mould, before being cut into cubes and rolled in cocoa powder. There was no added milk or sugar that might have diluted the chocolate and compromised its flavour. The truffles were best enjoyed fresh, and all I got was pure heady pleasure with each bite. I couldn't get enough of them despite the apparently generous serving!

The second item was a traditional crème brûlée tart, given an Irish twist by the addition of Guinness to the custard mix (hence the darker-than-usual colour of the end product). This turned out very well indeed; the lush and velvety custard was effectively tempered by a bittersweet malty edge from roasted barley, which prevented it from becoming too cloying. The top layer of caramelised sugar was thin and crisp, with an agreeable charred taste that also helped to balance the custard somewhat, while the pastry base was very delicate and had an aromatic buttery crunch. Faultless.

It had truly been one of life's greatest pleasures to dine in such beautiful surroundings, and as I continued sipping my tea, I couldn't help but feel how fortunate I was. Meanwhile, the dining room had filled up but the atmosphere remained very restful, without the slightest hint of hushed stuffiness; everyone was just naturally relaxing and enjoying themselves. When the food and service are this good, one doesn't have to try too hard to feel at home!

I remembered to take a look at the rest of the building, and was shown around briefly by the receptionist who had received me at the beginning. There are quite a number of rooms of varying sizes on the ground floor, which may be booked for private events such as company functions and weddings. How luxurious and expensive that must be!

There's Alléno chilling out with some regulars in the lounge just by the entrance to the building:

Just before I left the building, the lovely receptionist handed me two financiers as a parting gift, which made my day just that little bit sweeter. This meal had been a masterclass in flavours and textures (particularly the sauces which Alléno calls 'the voice of French cuisine'), and was also a manifestation of the best kind of cultural appropriation or 'fusion' in gastronomy, wherein the chef was fully sympathetic to the natures and possibilities of the exotic ingredients that he was using. Alléno has truly distinguished himself by straddling both innovation and tradition with remarkable finesse. I know I will be back someday for the full tasting menu experience!

Dinner at Les Deux Magots, Paris

It is the day after the end of my summer course in Tours, and having returned to Paris this morning together with Angela, we decided to go for a final dinner before she returns to Singapore first. This evening's choice was none other than Les Deux Magots, one of a famous trio of historical cafés in the St. Germain area, including Café Flore and Brasserie Lipp, which have played an important role in Parisian cultural life. Les Deux Magots itself has hosted famous writers and artists in the past such as Verlaine, Rimbaud, Hemingway and Picasso. For anyone interested in French literature and art, Les Deux Magots is a must-do in Paris, if for nothing else but to immerse oneself temporarily in the air of cultural sophistication that this café continues to exude. In my experience, it also happens to serve the best food of the trio, which is why I have decided to feature it in this blog (I'd first visited all three cafés back in 2012). Admittedly, prices here are higher compared to their counterparts, but they are well justified, as you will see.

Les Deux Magots was founded in 1812 and takes its name from the novelty shop that had been on the original premises. A pair of Chinese-style statues (hence 'Deux Magots') adorning one wall of the interior bears testimony to the origins of the café as well as the penchant for chinoiserie in Europe during that era. Its location is also incredibly convenient; you cannot miss it once you've exited the Saint-Germain-des-Prés metro station. Café Flore is right next to Les Deux Magots while Brasserie Lipp is just across the road, so you shall be quite spoilt for choice around that junction!

As they say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do; Parisians love sitting out on the terrasse on a warm summer's day dining al fresco, so that's exactly what we did. Our space felt very cosy despite it being in the open, and I loved the view of the streets and buildings around us. It was quite interesting to note how literally nobody was inside the café; as a typical Asian tourist you might get some bewildered looks from the waiters if you asked to be as far away from the smoke and noise as possible.

Les Deux Magots does not offer any prix fixe menu; everything has to be ordered off a standard à la carte menu with several options for each course, which can add up to a rather significant cost if you're going for the typical 3-course format. Angela decided on just one main course, while I went for all 3 courses, and offered her tasters of my starter and dessert.

Starter: fresh salmon tartare with citrus and crunchy cucumber.

Generous chunks of fresh salmon had been marinated very simply with lemon juice and chives, then arranged as a thick disc and garnished with fresh lemon slices, baby radishes, alfalfa sprouts and dill, before bits of finely grated cucumber were sprinkled over the dish. The acidity from lemon could have been overwhelming on its own, but used judiciously, it balanced the rich oily taste of the salmon perfectly and highlighted its freshness. The other garnishings provided further refreshment, and I particularly loved the sweet and warm aroma of fresh dill, which never goes wrong with any fish dish. There were some lovely textures in this dish too, from the moist and succulent salmon, to the juicy lemon slices, and crunchy radishes and cucumber. On the whole, this was a crisp and elegant starter which effectively cleansed my palate and stimulated my tastebuds.

Main: chicken supreme with seasonal vegetables and thyme lemon butter.

This was Angela's choice and it turned out to be a very good one indeed. Chicken often becomes very dry in the hands of lesser chefs so I'm quite wary of ordering it, but this large thigh cut didn't have that problem at all, even though the meat was quite thick. It had been very well seasoned and turned out very tasty and succulent, with a skin that was nicely browned and crisp from the roasting. The accompanying blanched vegetables retained a slight crunch as well as all their natural delicate sweetness. Finally, the thyme lemon butter not only added a further touch of richness to the texture of the chicken, but also provided overall balance in the dish with its fresh, citrusy and piney flavour. This was certainly one of the best chicken dishes I've tried in a while.

Main: fillet of sea bass à la plancha, with spinach and crustacean coulis.

Having worked up an appetite from my starter, this large fillet was perfect. I love well-prepared fish, and this sea bass was no exception. The fillet was thin enough for the fish to be cooked through quickly by grilling on a very hot metal plate, and very little of the fish's natural moisture had been lost, resulting in a flesh that was both tender and succulent. The skin turned out delightfully crisp and charred. A generous lashing of thick sauce similar to a very rich lobster bisque contributed further intense flavours that complemented the mild-tasting flesh excellently. Finally, this tasty and wholesome dish was completed by the bed of soft-boiled spinach on which the fish sat. Faultless and very satisfying indeed.

Dessert: warm Tarte Tatin with vanilla ice cream.

The dessert options at Les Deux Magots are very traditionally French and there's very little that can go wrong. Unusually, they also offer a small selection of pastries on behalf of Pierre Hermé (no doubt a touristy thing - the brand sells), though at 15 euros per piece, they are more than thrice as expensive as what it would cost to do a takeaway from the nearby flagship Hermé boutique. For that price, it would be better to choose something made in-house. I went for an excellent apple tart, with huge and juicy chunks of apples caramelised in butter and sugar, resting on a puff pastry base. (I shall leave the reader to find out more about the history of this classic 'inverted' French apple tart.) The caramelised apples had kept their shape perfectly while being absolutely soft and melt-in-the-mouth. They possessed a profound sweetness and captivating aroma that were unlike any apple tarts I've had in a long time. By contrast, the light, airy and flaky puff pastry base was an almost fleeting experience, supporting the intensity of the apples with subtle and pleasant buttery accents to each bite. On the side, a scoop of vanilla ice cream made with real vanilla pods complemented the apple tart remarkably with its rich and smooth texture, and warm and sweet aroma. I couldn't have asked for a better way to finish this superb dinner.

In summary, the prices here are somewhat high by bistro standards, but the portions are generous and both the cooking and ambience are outstanding. This place certainly transcends the usual tourist trap. The service is generally efficient if a tad brusque, as is typical in Paris, especially on a busy summer's evening - one just gets used to it, I suppose. No major complaints as we both got what we came for: great homely cooking with refined touches. Well worth a visit when you're in town!

Dinner at Le Saint-Honoré, Tours

Since arriving in Tours I have been on the lookout for a really nice new restaurant to visit, and I was very happy to have discovered this little gem, tucked away in a quiet little street behind the city's main cathedral. Le Saint-Honoré came up in Tripadvisor searches as a very highly regarded local restaurant, in addition to being on the Michelin Bib Gourmand list for good quality and value, and I decided to check it out this evening together with my singer Angela.

The restaurant is not that difficult to find - just walk straight on from Rue Colbert (the main dining street) in the direction away from the central square and you'll eventually come to it at a crossroads. We had actually tried to walk in without a reservation yesterday evening, but were informed by the warm and friendly couple who run the place that they were already full. Fortunately they still had space this evening! Reservations are absolutely essential especially for dinner.

Le Saint-Honoré is housed in an ancient former bakery dating from 1625, and run by Benoît and Isabelle Pasquier, a lovely couple who manage to do everything themselves without extra help. Benoît grows his own vegetables in a little patch at the back of the restaurant and cooks, while Isabelle, the main face of the restaurant, serves and charms guests with her casual and genuine demeanour.

One feels the homely atmosphere as soon as he steps in. The original brickwork and wooden beams have been carefully preserved, and the place is decorated with all sorts of nostalgic knick-knacks, creating an aptly quaint but not overwhelming environment. It felt especially comfortable and cosy sitting down to dinner with red checkered tablecloths, just as one might do in a traditional French country home.

Whilst perusing the menu, we were given a variety of canapés, consisting of raw baby radishes, cheese goujons, sesame and poppyseed biscuit sticks, and preserved black olives on a plate. This was a lovely way to stimulate the palate - the radishes were crisp and mildly sweet; the goujons warm, fluffy and aromatic; the biscuit sticks very light in texture but nutty and robust in flavour; and finally, the sharp, briny and juicy olives really awakened the tastebuds.

The menu is unfortunately French-only but I believe Isabelle speaks enough English to get by if you need help. There is the standard à la carte menu with multiple options under each course, or one may also choose between two fixed sets, Menu Saint-Honoré at 3 courses for €28, or Menu Homard (lobster menu) at 4 courses for €45, tax and service included. Angela decided on the former set while I went for the latter. After some time, Benoît emerged from the kitchen, took our orders himself and explained some of the dishes. He also readily allowed me to substitute my cheese course with an extra dessert upon request, recommending the apple tart to go with the dessert I'd already chosen, and quipping that 'you are a real gourmand' - very nice of him! We both really appreciated his warm and personal touch, and marvelled at his multitasking ability.

Following that, Isabelle offered each of us an amuse-bouche on a tablespoon, which contained a mound of radish mousse with sesame and rillons. 

Compared to the previous canapés, this was a lot richer in texture and heavier in flavour. The mousse had a fresh and delicate sweetness that was well enhanced by finely-chopped chives in the mix, while a sprinkling of sesame contributed a pleasant nutty aroma. The few small chunks of rillons (pork breast confit, a Touraine specialty) were smoky and intense in flavour, and had a lovely succulent bite - just perfect with the smooth, airy and creamy mousse. It was quite surprising how this spoonful could pack such a punch, and our expectations were suitably raised for the rest of the dinner.

Starter (Menu Saint-Honoré): disc of crushed heirloom tomatoes with basil, toasted nuts and seeds (sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds and pine nuts), quinoa and olive oil; mesclun salad leaves with balsamic vinegar; balls of watermelon and rock melon.

This was Benoît's 'suggestion of the moment', and what resulted was one of the beautiful tomato salads I have ever seen. Almost all the produce (except for the nuts, seeds and fruits) had been grown by Benoît himself, and the care with which he had cultivated and plated them was immediately evident. The chunks of heirloom tomatoes (I counted at least two different varieties) were extremely sweet and juicy as expected, and the fruity and mildly bitter olive oil in the mix instantly elevated their crispness and enriched their texture. Fresh basil leaves contributed further pleasant aromas, while bits of quinoa, nuts and seeds enlivened each mouthful with a crunchy bite and robust flavour. At the other corner of the plate, crisp and delicately spicy salad leaves with a dash of tangy balsamic vinegar continued the garden-fresh theme of this starter. The row of fruit separating these two parts of the plating was no less stellar - meticulously shaped into tiny balls, very juicy, and even sweeter than the tomatoes. Incredibly wholesome and satisfying!

Starter (Menu Homard): rosette of lobster on a bed of crushed tomatoes with basil.

This was essentially the same dish as the tomato salad above, but with the addition of generous slices of lobster arranged very prettily like petals in the form of a rose, as well as a whole lobster claw. The lobster had been boiled to just the right degree and still retained all of its juiciness and sweetness, and the flesh was really firm and succulent. The plump lobster claw was particularly tantalising. Coupled with the tomatoes, basil and olive oil, the result was utterly fresh, crisp and luxurious.

Main (Menu Saint-Honoré): Chartres-style beef tenderloin, potato galette, seasonal vegetables and garlic confit.

The original French name for this dish was 'tournedos', referring to round cuts of beef from the end portion of the tenderloin. Chartres-style (taking its name from the nearby city of the same name) refers to a garnish of fondant potatoes and veal gravy with herbs that typically accompany tournedos. This dish had a very homely and down-to-earth feel to it. The medium-rare beef was tender and succulent, and its intense flavour was enhanced aptly by the accompanying soft, pungent and sharp pieces of garlic confit with a mildly sweet aftertaste. The cooking juices with chives were another natural and effective match for this full-bodied meat. On the side (taking the place of fondant potatoes, but similarly prepared), the potato galette, made with just layered paper-thin potato strips and butter, had been oven-roasted to a delightfully browned and aromatic crispiness on the surface, whilst the insides remained meltingly tender and milky without the slightest hint of grease, despite the use of butter. On the whole, this was a robust and rather heavy dish, well executed in all of its deceptively simple components and very enjoyable indeed.

Main (Menu Homard): croustillant of lobster on a bed of gently spiced girolles.

If you're a mushroom lover, this dish is for you. The positives: the bed of girolles was very meticulously prepared, having been minced to an almost paste-like consistency and marinated with various spices for an additional warmth to its already deep flavour. Surrounding the bed of minced girolles were actual sautéed girolles with a firm and fleshy texture and a pleasant hint of caramelisation. The meat jus with finely crushed hazelnuts further contributed to the overall intensity of the accompaniments and provided an occasional crunch. Finally, the individual discs making up the potato croustillant on top had been shaved to an remarkably translucent thinness, and deep-frying not only made them stick together nicely due to the release of natural starches, but also made them incredibly crispy and appealing (who can dislike potato crisps, really?). Needless to say, the lobster was as good as it had been in the salad (this is most likely the other half, so one gets a whole lobster over two courses).

However, my first reservation about this dish was its proportions, as the overwhelming amount of girolles on the plate seemed to have upstaged what should have been the focus of this dish - the lobster. I was also concerned by how the earthy girolles with a meat-based jus might overpower the much more delicate and clean-tasting lobster, though I understand that traditional French restaurants may have a tendency to make everything on the plate taste of meat. Again, to be sure, the individual components were very good, but I must admit that their juxtaposition on this plate felt rather awkward.

Dessert (one chooses from the same list for both menus): apple and honey tart with cinnamon ice-cream.

One can never go wrong with the classic apple and cinnamon combination. This was my replacement dessert for the cheese course, and I was both surprised and impressed by how finely the apple had been sliced then carefully arranged on the equally thin pastry base. The apple slices remained very juicy and crunchy, and the baking had produced a deep caramelised flavour. Both their texture and taste were aptly enhanced by a surface glazing of honey. The pastry base was very light and somewhat crumbly to the bite. On the whole, it was a lovely combination of textures. Topping the tart was a scoop of cinnamon ice cream, made with a generous amount of real ground cinnamon powder, which packed a real punch with its smooth and rich texture, and authentically warm and sweet aroma. It even came with a paper-thin cinnamon feuilletine for extra bite and flavour. A single small strawberry provided a pleasant tart balance to this otherwise rather sweet and indulgent dessert. It was indeed quite a nice way of recovering from the slight disappointment of my main course.

Dessert: strawberries with lemon verbena.

This was Angela's choice, and an entirely apt one coming after her meaty and substantial main course. Fresh strawberries, lightly poached in strawberry juice, had a delightfully soft and juicy texture, with a crisp and tangy taste. The surrounding strawberry juice had in turn been reduced to a thicker consistency and infused with lemon verbena prior to serving, which resulted in a concentrated sweetness with pleasant citrusy notes. Topping the dessert was a  very light, smooth and refreshing scoop of strawberry sorbet and a crispy brown sugar tuile for extra bite. On the whole, this was extremely vivid both in appearance and in flavour.

Dessert: raspberry gratin with basil and Vouvray sabayon.

Gratin refers to a culinary method in which an ingredient (such as sliced potatoes) is sprinkled with grated cheese and/or breadcrumbs in a shallow dish and baked till a golden brown crust is formed on top. This unusual dessert version of an otherwise savoury dish had a base of simmered raspberries swimming in a pool of raspberry soup, similar to the previous strawberry dessert, but here the raspberries were even softer and somewhat mashed up (like in a chunky jam), perhaps due to their smaller size which makes them more prone to disintegration upon heating. This raspberry base had a concentrated tartness which was effectively tempered by the fresh peppery flavour, with a sweet aromatic aftertaste, of the shreds of basil scattered within. Similar in appearance to a Mornay sauce, the sabayon on top was actually a liquid custard-like mixture of egg yolks, sugar and wine, lightly cooked then whipped to its foamy appearance. The use of typically dry and acidic Vouvray wine (a famous white wine made from Chenin Blanc grapes just east of Tours) resulted in a sabayon that was remarkably fresh and crisp, perfect for the strong and spicy basil as well as the rather astringent raspberries. Charred bits of icing sugar on the surface offered a balancing tinge of sweetness as well as a convincing gratin-like appearance, while a halved fresh strawberry completed this picture-perfect dessert like a jewel in the crown. This was a most invigorating way to end the dinner, and now I could also see why Benoît had recommended the much sweeter apple tart to pair with and precede this dessert.

Petit fours: thyme meringue, raspberry financier and grape & peach compote tart.

No meal in a proper French restaurant is complete without the little pastries that arrive at the end of dinner, and these were very good indeed. The meringue was crisp, airy and minty, a great palate cleanser; the financier was moist, fluffy and buttery, with a tinge of acidity from raspberry jam in the centre; and for the tart, who could possibly dislike a thick and sweet jam filling, with a fresh and juicy grape to boot?

I'd wanted to see Benoît's vegetable patch but was unfortunately informed by him that other guests sitting in that area might be disturbed if I did that, so I respected his decision. Throughout the dinner we witnessed the seamless and loving cooperation between husband and wife, and it's frankly remarkable how efficiently the business runs despite having just the two of them. I couldn't leave without asking to take a picture with this lovely couple as a souvenir, which they were only too happy to oblige. They were extremely pleased that we had enjoyed ourselves this much.

Le Saint-Honoré is most certainly the best restaurant I've discovered in Tours so far. Great cooking at reasonable prices, coupled with the most amiable service I've experienced in this city - what's not to love? Go!