Paris goes arigato!
Every time I make my way to the City of Lights, I binge. I start by having a ceremoniously over-priced cup of espresso at Les Deux Magots facing the St. Germain Church, accompanied by the flakiest of flaky croissants and a crusty baguette slathered with butter from Isigny. Then I make my usual round of favorite restaurants.
You see, Paris was like home for me and when you go home, you eat the familiar. Well, I was bored of that this year and decided after that overpriced espresso, heart palpitations and all, Paris is for discovery. New places, new chefs, new flavors. The adventure was on and I quickly found out: the Japanese bug has bit Paris. Everywhere I turned, shiso leaves and yuzu decorated the plates. Chefs are young, vibrant, exciting and, well, not French.
L’ Atelier de Joel Robuchon’s Igor, Ricardo, David, Chef Suga, Baptiste, and Alessandro La Bigarrade was recently awarded two Michelin stars and highly recommended by a friend. Situated near Avenues Clichy, not a usual address for a starred resto, the place also has a very modern, un-classic décor. It’s hard not to notice the simplicity of the interiors, colored glasses and hanging light fixtures. It is refreshing and the food is the star.
The lunch degustation is only 45 euros for eight dishes and 65 euros for 12 dishes. As Parisian Michelin establishments go, this is cheap.
I went on to take the wine pairings as well for an extra 35 euros. It started promising: red bell pepper sorbet with fraises des bois (woodland strawberries) and the gorgeous baby calamari battered in the fluffiest batter and fried crisp. It was juicy and crunchy all at the same time, and served with a grilled lime. I wanted much more. Then came more squid — marinated squid rings with Japanese plum and radish — interesting and sweet; grilled cuttlefish with poached quail egg, less interesting and redundant.
Poetry on a plate: Those gorgeous spring vegetables, a haiku on my plate I enjoyed the langoustine with Japanese mustard and shiso leaf, the grilled white asparagus with black miso, lemon caviar and toasted hazelnuts, and the goat cheese and strawberry ice cream with caramelized olive. Exciting combinations and new flavors. But to be honest, everything else was just one big question mark. Why was everything practically raw? Including my lamb? Why serve raw elderflowers that left a strange bitter taste? Was it really necessary to serve bottarga with raw beef? Raw cauliflower for dessert?
I’m all for new, I love bold… but it all has to make sense. I’m not into the shock factor. Worth it if you’re curious but it pays to see what’s in season ahead of time and if those are the things you enjoy. There is no regular menu and, well, one person’s great experience may just be another’s peculiar one.
Sola was a true surprise. It’s set in a small Medieval space, complete with uneven floors and wooden beams smack in the middle of the fifth arrondissement, right where I feel most at home, having lived there for so many years. Sola is up front, straight out Japanese-French fusion. Sake is served in wine glasses alongside champagne. Again, no menu — just choose small or big degustation. We went for small at 45 euros for dinner but because the chef had previously worked with my friend Aaron, they shuffled over some amazing freebies. The amuses bouche was a cold fennel veloute with a tiny tartine of caramelized foie gras. Absolutely refreshing, a wonderful combination of richness and sparkle. Our appetizer was a millefeuille of electric green spring vegetables with thin slivers of green apple and a cold poached egg. The plate was a haiku all by itself. The vegetables were tear-jerkingly beautiful, crisp, crunchy fresh. A little condiment of yuzu with the tartness of apple to cut through that creamy egg. This was a homage to those green sprouts. Delicate vegetables struggling to grow, being coaxed out of the ground to land in heaven — this plate.
In cod we trust: Black cod on daikon cream with yuzu The monkfish and gambas were at par… but to be honest, the highlight of my trip was summed up in a tiny little square of pork belly confit. Chop of young pig cooked sous vide, then roasted to have the crisp skin, accompanied by a tiny square of confit pork belly, sautéed spinach and home- made mustard. That pork belly... just like candy. Caramelized in its own beautiful fat, that tender sweetness, that skin… crisp and wafer-thin. It was like a beautiful piece of candy. Wrap it up in gold foil and send me a box! We ended with happy smiles and a kumquat gelee and sorbet that was delightful. A must-do in Paris.
Saving the best for last is the newly opened L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon in the Publicis Drugstore on Champs Elysees. For those who have read my previous Paris article, you all know that my previous disdain for the Robuchon chains was instantly transformed into undying love. I was excited and hesitant at the same time for fear that my cherished memories of the L’Atelier on Montalembert be tainted with disappointment. To be honest I have now been transformed from fan to disciple. The service was impeccable. The staff was friendly and kind. Baptiste and Alessandro made sure all our needs were met with dazzling smiles and charming conversation. Sit by the bar and watch as the majestry unfolds. The kitchen working in perfect harmony to paint on plates and jazz up your palates.
Langoustine with Shiso and Japanese mustard Everything looked calm despite the crazy lunch hour. I went out of my way to choose the more Japanese-inspired dishes and the young chef Yosuke Suga truly left his mark. To start, I went for the Langoustine Carpaccio. This capricious shellfish is rare and difficult to maneuver. It yields such little flesh that only expert hands can extract them. It was not overpowered by the dressing but highlighted by what I presumed was some togarashi and smoked black poppy seeds. The black cod or commonly known here as gindara was cooked to absolute sweet perfection. It was flaky and rich. You could taste the fish, it wasn’t drowning in teriyaki sauce as it usually does. It was regal as it floated delicately in a daikon cream with little bits of candied yuzu and ginger. The unagi was interesting. Somewhat lightly poached with a wasabi foam. The staff surprised us with a dish we didn’t order. A delicate broth in which little raviolis stuffed with foie gras floated about, bouncing against each other, mingling with thin slivers of shiso leaf and ginger. I’ve had foie gras ravioli in soup before, this was nothing new. But that slight Asian touch — those shiso leaves were present with a purpose. They had a mission and it was truly accomplished. The freshness of it all. This is what I had always admired about Robuchon… Nothing was unnecessary. No leaf or zest is there just as a garnish. You eat everything together. Cutting each piece meticulously to eat with one another.
Bouillon with foie gras ravioli and shiso Of course, the classics: Ris de Veau and my mother’s stuffed quail was far beyond excellent, paired with his famous puree. Not to be missed is Robuchon’s, gelee de caviar with cauliflower cream. We ended our joyous lunch with more surprises for dessert as the pastry chef sent us over bananas in rum with a coconut mousse that made me homesick, and a gorgeous clafoutis with peaches and that sorbet! So unctuous. Whatever it was that was in front of us was devoured. We ate it all and if we had the space, I would have eaten more. Well worth its two Michelin Stars… in my book, it has the whole Milky Way galaxy.
I’ve made it my mission to taste all the ateliers around the world. Each chef and location bringing in a new twist, making each one truly unique.
Although fusion cuisine is definitely not new, it’s even a dated concept harking back from the 1990s and even way before that. Soy sauce and nuoc mam (common old patis) are now ingredients just as French as they are Asian. Most homes have a 100 ml bottle of Suzie Wong stuff, very light, frenchified versions of the our potent stuff but, hey, they have it anyways. Asian fusion, or more specifically Japanese-French fusion circa 2011 goes a far more sophisticated step. The main ingredients, the herbs, the fruits, the conceptualization of dishes. The Zen-nes of plating, even the whole ideology of sashimi and the pureness of ingredients have reached the Parisian plate.
So clammy!: Bigarrade’s fried baby calamari Perhaps it goes beyond fusion, because in our globalized world of beautiful halfies and gorgeous mongrel children, Internet and easy travel, the whole world is accessible. Why shouldn’t it be so in our dishes as well? This is a new era, blurring the lines between what is French, truly French (Couscous Royale is on almost every Saturday bistro special) and how far the Japanese have come out of their traditionally isolationist shell to reach out to the world above and beyond the commercial California roll. Japan has had a tumultuous year but this resilient and rich culture has always bounced back and with pizzazz. Certainly on my plate and all those in Paris that has them all shouting: Arigato!
