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!

Dinner at Au Lapin Qui Fume, Tours

This evening I found myself in a rather unusual bistro for dinner, just a few doors down the road from Le Turon. Its name 'The Smoking Rabbit' had caught my attention previously and I thought I'd finally give it a shot. As the bistro's name suggests, it specialises in rabbit cuisine, a somewhat acquired taste for foreigners but particularly popular in French-speaking parts of the world. Of course, they do serve the usual fishes and meats as well, but I was after something different tonight. I've had excellent rabbit stew and confit in Belgium and other parts of France, and was eager to relive those culinary experiences.

When I arrived it was absolutely packed with locals and domestic tourists - not bad for an ordinary weeknight, and always a sure sign that the food's good. I was probably the only foreigner there, and fortunately the warm and efficient lady who received me managed to squeeze me into a table at the back. Reservations (especially for dinner) would probably be a good idea.

Rustic-looking water jug with a grapevine design

I went for a 3-course menu at €29, with a good number of options under each course. Obviously, as I was after the full rabbit experience, this lovely gamey meat would be the focus of both my starter and main.

To begin the meal I had toast with an extremely generous and chunky black olive tapenade spread. The olives' briny juiciness, coupled with the fresh bitterness of olive oil in the mix, was absolutely stimulating to the palate and an effective kickstarter to the lovely meal ahead.

Starter: homemade rabbit terrine with onion jam.

Served chilled, these terrine slices were surprisingly lean but moist, succulent and very well-seasoned. The rabbit's robust gamey flavour was aptly enhanced by a deep smoky edge from curing with salt and various herbs and spices. To make each bite even tastier and more aromatic, a side of chunky onion jam was provided for additional bite as well as to match the full-bodied flavour of the terrine with its sweet pungence. What a simple, homely and delightful starter this was.

Main: rabbit tajine with olives and confit lemon, on a bed of couscous.

With this dish we moved straight from the home kitchens of France into Morocco, where the national dish tajine consists of healthy slow-cooked stews using various meats and fishes together with vegetables and fruits, served in earthenware pots. The sauces for these stews are often quite tangy and heavily spiced. Here, the rabbit meat had become very tender and succulent from the long hours of cooking, and its rich gamey flavour was aptly balanced by the tart chunks of lemon confit and sharp briny olives. In fact, I found the accompaniments almost too astringent on the whole, but fortunately the robust meat held its own pretty well. The surrounding broth, made from rabbit stock with tomato, paprika, parsley, ras-el-hanout (Moroccan ground spice mix) and olive oil, was crisp, tasty and full of warm and sweet aromas. The couscous at the bottom filled out the dish nicely without adding too much weight. Not sure if this tajine could be considered authentic, but it was pretty wholesome and satisfying.

Dessert: Café Gourmand (espresso with a selection of 6 mignardises).

Instead of going for the more fancy-sounding individual plated desserts, I decided to go with my waitress' recommendation and do what a local person might prefer: a small but really strong espresso, with a selection of traditional French confectioneries and seasonal bites. On this impressive platter were (in anticlockwise order) pistachio macaron, apricot roasted with rosemary, vanilla ice-cream with a chocolate feuilletine, dark chocolate brownie, cannelé and meringue. Everything on this stone slab was good. Particular standouts included the juicy roasted apricot, which just like at Le Turon, had a concentrated sweetness from caramelisation, lovely fresh aromas from the rosemary infusion, and a pleasant crunch and deep nutty edge from chopped roasted pistachios. The pistachio macaron was also a delight for its authentic flavour and mastery of textures, from the airy and crisp outer biscuits to the thick and smooth layer of cream that lay between. Finally, the dark chocolate brownie was extremely rich, moist and intense in flavour.

The very robust and bitter espresso packed a real punch amidst the multitude of sweet and potentially cloying morsels, and left one's palate and mind incredibly stimulated even after a rather heavy meal. No worries with food coma here; on the contrary, I left the restaurant feeling invigorated and quite certain that I would revisit if I ever had the chance to. What's not to love about unpretentious places like these with a convivial and welcoming environment, warm and efficient service, and perhaps most importantly, good solid food that won't burn a hole in your pocket?

Dinners at Le Turon, Tours

I am back at the summer course in Tours, France, which I first attended two years ago, and I certainly didn't forget to relive my foodie memories of Le Turon, a lively and unpretentious bistro great for social gatherings and reasonably-priced French classics. Prices have gone up by a few euros since then but remain well within expectations. I had two dinners here with different people over the course of the week, and this post reviews both visits.

Yesterday evening, I came with a singer friend, and both of us went for the Menu Gourmand, now priced at €24.50 for 2 courses or €29.50 for 3 courses. I went for 3 courses whilst she went for 2.

Starter: duck foie gras presented three ways - 'au torchon', in a macaron and in crème brûlée.

Nothing could be more luxurious and more French than a starter of foie gras. 2 years ago I had a similar dish with toast under the Menu Gourmand, though with just a slice of foie gras terrine matched with various condiments, that was in hindsight less interesting than the one I had before me now. The increased creative effort was evident and effective, and showcased foie gras in various preparations from the traditional to the unexpected. First, 'au torchon' (lit. 'in a towel'), in which a whole lobe of foie gras is wrapped in a towel and slow-cooked in a bain-marie, then compressed, chilled and sliced. I thought that this method best highlighted the foie gras' deep muskiness, and the resulting thick and smooth creaminess made for the perfect spread on crispy toast. The other two variations were no less stellar; for the macaron, a rich foie gras mousse filling was sandwiched between two airy and crisp biscuits with a pleasant caramelised taste, while the crème brûlée displayed perfect balance between the sweet and savoury, with small chunks of foie gras amply mixed into the egg-and-vanilla custard to produce the most concentrated explosion of flavours within that mini ramekin. Artery-clogging perhaps, but no regrets licking the plate clean!

Main: lamb shoulder slow-cooked for 7 hours in Chinon wine.

The signature main of Le Turon, this generous ball of meat was utterly tender, juicy and melt-in-the-mouth from the long and gradual cooking process. Its robust flavour was effectively complemented by the equally full-bodied and spicy wine sauce, with a good amount of tannins to maintain the balance of this otherwise indulgent dish. The roasted potatoes were very good too - caramelised to the right degree and crisp on the outside with a sprinkling of dried herbs for additional aromas, and fluffy and non-greasy on the inside.

Main: roasted goose fillet with 'poires tapées'.

Poires tapées (lit. 'flattened pear') is a summer specialty of the Loire Valley, in which pears are peeled and gently heated on racks in ovens for three days to caramelise and soften them. They are then left out in the sun to dry completely, then flattened with a mechanical press known as a platissouerre. The dried pears are typically rehydrated in Chinon wine before consumption, and are used to accompany red meats. Here, the concentrated sweetness of the pear strips, with a hint of astringency from the wine, was a refreshing balance for the deep gamey flavour of the roasted goose. The pear's firm, juicy and somewhat chewy texture also matched the meat's succulent bite very well. The skin was nicely browned and quite crisp, and the roasting juices were very tasty. On the whole, this dish was extremely satisfying and enjoyable.

Dessert: apricots roasted in rosemary, topped with candyfloss ice cream.

Perfect for anyone with a sweet tooth, the roasted apricots were firm and fleshy, with an intense sweetness that came from the combination of reduction of juices, caramelisation of natural fruit sugars and the infusion of floral piney aromas from fresh rosemary. The surrounding roasting juices, enlivened with a dash of apricot liqueur, contained the essences of both the fruit and herb. To top it off was a large scoop of candyfloss ice cream, unusual in French cuisine but nonetheless very nostalgic with its unique toasty and almost cloying taste. Fresh strawberries and a twig of rosemary completed this dessert that was as delicious as it was visually appealing.

Dessert: strawberry gazpacho with 'floating island'.

This was a fruitier (and healthier) take on the classic French dessert 'île flottante' (lit. 'floating island'), in which a mound of soft plain meringue is usually surrounded by a pool of vanilla custard sauce. Here, the custard sauce was replaced by a very light and tangy soup of strawberries with dashes of strawberry coulis. The meringue itself was extremely airy and fluffy despite its intense sweetness. As a whole, this dessert felt perfectly balanced and easy on the stomach after the rather substantial preceding courses - a lovely way to end the dinner indeed.

This evening, I returned with a group of Japanese friends from the course. They were rather small eaters and chose just one or two courses each from the slightly cheaper Menu Détente, which made me look like such a glutton as I continued with a full 3 courses from the Menu Gourmand. Haha...

Bread with a dip of crushed green and black olives in olive oil to start.

Starter (Menu Gourmand): carpaccio of scallop marinated in chorizo.

Freshness is paramount when dealing with raw seafood, and the thinly sliced scallops here did not disappoint. They were very sweet and juicy, and their natural umami was enhanced by marination in a smoky and savoury chorizo oil, with strips of real chorizo and aromatic chopped chives to boot. The taste of chorizo is quite strong (like all cured meats) and could have easily overpowered the delicate flavour of the scallops, but fortunately this dish was surprisingly well-balanced and effective.

Salad (à la carte): large seafood salad with smoked salmon, prawns, white asparagus, diced tomatoes, mesclun, cream cheese with chives and a sprinkling of Espelette pepper.

A meal in itself for one of my friends, this huge salad featured an impressive mound of crisp mixed leaves topped with a good amount of succulent seafood, sweet and juicy white asparagus, and a generous dollop of tangy and aromatic cream cheese to keep things fresh and light throughout. The portion was quite incredible; this would certainly suffice if you're not a big eater.

Starter (Menu Détente): salad with pork confit and a crispy crêpe with a filling of warm Sainte-Maure cheese.

This was extremely representative of the region's produce. The pork confit ('rillons' in French) is a Touraine specialty that is made pretty much the same way as duck confit. Chunks of pork breast are marinated in salt and herbs for hours, then slow-cooked at low temperatures in lard, and finally preserved in sealed jars, also in its own (filtered) fat. The two slices here bore a striking similarity to gammon in appearance, but were infinitely more tender, succulent and tasty than the latter. The surface of the meat was also very nicely browned and crisp, just like the skin of a great duck confit. In the foreground lay a wrap with two discs of Touraine Sainte-Maure cheese, an unpasteurised white, soft and creamy goat's cheese made from full-fat milk, and presented in the form of a small cylindrical log. This cheese had a slightly salty taste which made for a great match to the rillons, and its fresh nutty walnut-like aroma went perfectly with the mildly bitter and spicy salad leaves below. Final lashings of a rather puckering vinaigrette kept this otherwise indulgent starter in a good balance.

Main (Menu Détente): casserole of monkfish, scallops, red mullet and salmon with rice and béchamel sauce.

This was simple and effective - a generous variety of stewed seafood with rice, topped with lashings of béchamel sauce; what could go wrong? The fishes and shellfish were all very fresh, moist and full of distinctive flavours that were aptly enhanced by the warm, buttery and milky sauce. The sauce also worked well with the plain cooked rice and saved it from coming across as too dry, which is a common problem with the Western method of cooking rice in a pot by simply boiling off all the water within. On the whole, this dish was very homely and satisfying.

Dessert (Menu Gourmand): moelleux au chocolat (chef's recipe) and vanilla ice-cream.

I first had this dessert here two years ago, and was very glad that it has remained on the menu despite changes to many other dishes in the meantime. Nobody knows how to handle chocolate better than the French, and this moist and fluffy chocolate sponge with an oozing intense dark chocolate centre was still every bit as good as I had remembered it to be. The vanilla custard and ice cream with traces of real vanilla pods were also very aromatic and authentic. Compared to two years ago, I noticed some extra touches for balance and texture; first, a tangy raspberry coulis and fresh strawberry for refreshment amidst this indulgence, and secondly a long thin biscuit perched atop the ice-cream for an additional crisp bite. I couldn't have imagined a better way to finish a traditional French meal.

Definitely (still) worth a visit if you're in town!

Dinner at Le Turon, Tours

I am currently on a summer course in the French town of Tours, and this evening two newfound Japanese friends and I headed out to dinner. Along the pedestrianised Rue Colbert by the main cathedral St. Gatien, where most of the good restaurants are located away from the main square's tourist traps, we stumbled upon this particularly crowded bistro Le Turon, and went in trusting our gut feelings about the place.

The atmosphere is quaint, with ancient walls and timbre ceiling structures still intact. The bistro offers a prix-fixe menu at dinner with ample options for each course, and prices are extremely reasonable, at €21.50 for 2 courses or €27.50 for 3 courses. The cooking is hearty and homely, offering French classics such as foie gras, duck breast, and molten chocolate cake. Service is efficient and no-nonsense, typical of French bistros.

Starter 1: eggs poached in Chinon wine, with a slice of homemade foie gras.

This was a luxurious start to any meal. The homemade foie gras was utterly smooth and creamy with a rich musky flavour. Regional characteristics could be inferred from the generous pool of Chinon wine sauce, made from a full-bodied, tannic and mildly spicy red wine of the Touraine region (somewhat unusual for typically white Loire Valley wines). The soft-poached runny eggs contributed further flavours and a substantial creaminess when mixed together with the excellent sauce. One just couldn't help mopping it all up with the bread provided! All in all, really bold flavours and textures which packed a good punch.

Starter 2: monkfish tartare marinated with chives, lime, passion fruit and ginger, with slices of grapefruit and a passion fruit-ginger reduction.

The raw monkfish was fresh and firm, and the marinade was well-intentioned, but I found the latter overpoweringly acidic - not helped either by the grapefruit and more passion fruit reduction (which itself has a very strong and distinctive flavour)! To the kitchen's credit, chives and ginger were truly lovely touches, contributing delicate aromas and spiciness to enhance the gentle sweet taste of the fish, but the overall flavour balance or fish-condiment proportion could have been better adjusted, I thought.

Starter 3: Homemade terrine of duck foie gras with pear chutney and vanilla.

Similar to but less heavy than the previous foie gras dish, this was deliciously paired with a mildly spicy pear chutney and a touches of high-quality balsamico, sea salt, Espelette pepper and vanilla pod powder. Sweet, sour, salty, spicy and aromatic all at once, working effectively to enhance the rich musky flavour of foie gras. A simple and classic composition of which one never tires.

Main course 1: entrecôte steak with a sauce of farm-churned St. Maure goat's cheese, with roasted potatoes and a broccoli and cumin purée.

The steak was tender and succulent, and its strong flavour was very well complemented by the creamy sauce made from an unpasteurised full-fat goat's cheese of the Touraine region. The roast potatoes and broccoli purée were rather more insipid. The potatoes in particular lacked a certain crispness and fluffiness; they felt somewhat greasy and heavy. On the whole though, the dish was still extremely enjoyable on account of the excellent steak and its sauce.

Main course 2: skewer of duck breast, with apricots and rosemary.

Another excellent meat dish; the duck breast was incredibly tender and juicy, with a rich gamey flavour. This isn't just any ordinary breast meat; in France, only the Mulard breed of ducks are selected for this dish, and they must be force-fed not only to produce foie gras but also to fatten up generally, which makes their breast meat unusually succulent, unlike the dry and fatless meat that we normally associate with this part of an animal. The sauce, made of roasting juices mixed with apricot juice and infused with rosemary, offered another dimension to the duck breast, with the perfect sweet-savoury balance and a fresh pine-like aroma.

Dessert 1: rose wine nectarine soup, with Grand Marnier chantilly cream, cinnamon powder and mint.

A refreshing way to end, with sweet juicy slices of nectarine submerged in a pool of nectarine and rose wine soup, and topped with whipped cream infused with orange liqueur. The extensive use of alcohol in this dessert enhanced the freshness and overall taste of the ingredients while lightening things up significantly, almost like a digestif. Cinnamon powder and a single mint leaf provided further pleasant aromas.

Dessert 2: moelleux au chocolat (chef's recipe) and vanilla ice-cream.

One of the staples of French desserts, this indulgent chocolate cake has a molten chocolate centre that oozes out when you cut into it. The one before me now was extremely intense; having barely made a slit in the fluffy baked layer, viscous chocolatey goodness started gushing out. The chocolate itself had a deep bitter taste and was obviously of high quality. Balancing and complementing the chocolate cake were two sweeter accompaniments; first, vanilla custard to be paired at will with the chocolate cake, then a vanilla ice-cream that was really smooth, creamy and aromatic (nothing beats using real crushed vanilla pods!). Very comforting and satisfying indeed. I think all three of us agreed that this was the best meal we've had since arriving here a week ago.

While Tours might not seem an obvious choice for tourism despite its rich history and proximity to Paris, as the birthplace of standard French pronunciation, as well as the base from which the beautiful Loire Valley may be explored, it is certainly worth a visit - and do drop by this lovely bistro if you are in town!