Le Chateaubriand

One bistro, slightly dilapidated, and tables with no tablecloth, but Le Chateaubriand by Iñaki Aizpitarte climbed its way to No.11 on The San Pellegrino World’s Best Restaurant List, surpassing internationally renown three-Michelin-starred Frenchies in the likes of Pierre Gagnaire and Astrance. This gave me enough–more than enough–reason to pick up the phone and ask for a table.

Tables, they need to be booked ten days or so in advance, due to high demands from the French public. And, what’s worse, the fact that Le Chateaubriand does not do lunch doubles perhaps the amount of keen hungry foodie trying to acquire a sitting. The menu–there is only one and fixed. Taster-style, there are five courses or so, plus trains of amuse bouche. All dishes, as informed by my keen, acknowledgeable server, change daily but the price is always at 50€. Cheap? Too cheap?

Bluntly speaking, this is one so-called “Bistronomie” trend that is rocking the Paris scene now, and part of the reason, I guess, is due to the fact that dining out in Paris has become unbelievably, unfashionably expensive; people who could afford fine dining are likely to be tourists or stinking rich entrepreneurs or stinky rich tourist-entrepreneurs.

Let’s get cracking.

Seated. I was the first to arrive. The dining room was empty and the staff were still finishing their fags at the front. Apologies for being too early! I caught the glimpse of Aizpitarte rushing into the kitchen, hopefully not because of my demanding presence. The wine list came, though my eyes went straight to the Beaujolais nouveau on the board. I also asked for a tapas of Jambon de Truie de Navarre, of premium quality and almost undoing my philia for Jamon Iberico. What’s the difference? Truie de Navarre is a lot less fatty than Jamon Iberico. All arrived, not very long after, with my first nibble of warm Choux filled with stringy cheese, toppled with poppy seed. This was quickly followed by the ceviche, raw white fish marinated in a pool of lemon infusion. To be drunk, yes, and it was just blowing my head off; I started salivating immensely!!

More amuse bouche flew over, a lollipop of what I reckon to be a cooked quial’s joint coated in fried breadcrumb and pepper. Simple, the meat was sweet, well contrasted with the saltier coating.

And the last of Sardine, Black and White Radish. Sour, crunchy, fersh and pungent spicy flavours combined. It reminded me of having sashimi, but better and bolder. The flavour of the fish hit my palate first; then the radish, then whao… <3

The last of the amuse bouche was a Carrot Soup, sweet and silky smooth. It cooled my palate down.

Time passed and now the dining room was totally packed. Happy diners, who appeared ordinarily French, not those out of caricatures, and one great bustling scene. My first course came. It was a salad of Pan-Fried Boudin, Mushrooms, Onions, Tapioca with Oyster Dressing.

My first question to the server could somewhat be rephrased to, albeit in a more polite manner, what the heck was that black thing? She reassured me it was mushroom powder. Ahh, at least, it was not soot. The mushrooms–there were pieces of them, too–were served quartered and raw. The rest I would describe as a dish of distinct sea taste, thanks to the magnificent oyster dressing, with occasional burst of meat from the Boudin and freshness and kick from the raw onion slices. Tapioca added texture and so was the power. The dish, I must add, shouted “Noma” to me. Yes, it was THAT good. Looking around, however, I saw one English speaking diner forking through the tapioca–wasn’t he supposed to be using his spoon?–looking uncertain about his fate at dinner.

Putting my gastronomic bully aside, I was poking my head out for my next dish. And it came in form of a heavily deconstructed, re-interpreted bouillanaise of Monk Fish with Cockles.

I had to admit I didn’t quite get the dish. The perfectly cooked monk fish came with almost raw cockles, which I struggled to stomach. The broth, very light, was filled in the mini cooked onion bowls. The crisps gave crunch. Apart from this, I couldn’t seriously read the dish. Liked it? Taking it out of the bouillabaise mindset, I quite enjoyed it; the combo worked, apart from the raw cockles.

The meat course of Pigeon, Leeks, Cedrat Leaves, Cocoa Powder was a chacun a son gout dish, which was purely because the way the pigeon was cooked, seared on both side but blue in the middle. I happened to love it as it was packed with canivourous flavour and enhanced with the bittersweetness of the cocoa powder. The leeks were not only sweet but retained a charred aroma, hitting the nose brilliantly, with occasional bursts of freshness peppermint-like taste from the Cedrat leaves.

Time for desserts. There were two mini ones. Here’s my first of Pear, Beetroot, Cherry toppled with meringue (I guess?). Two dominant flavours of sweet and sour battled it out, with bizarre soothing of  airy meringue and crunchy diced pear. It wasn’t my favourite dish, I must add.

The last of the meal was this Buckwheat Ice Cream with Grapefruit. The ice cream was as I liked it. Smooth and not much different from vanilla ice cream. It was actually the aroma that I found distinctive, smelling of carb, of Japanese soba noodle. The grapefruit was, to me, way to sour and proportion-wise, it overwhelmed the delicate ice cream. Oddly enough there was this saltiness from somewhere–on this particular occasion drinking too much Beaujolais stopped my brain from functioning–which I found too overpowering. Overall, Desserts at Le Chateaubriand did not quite do it for me. Inventive but lacking in satisfaction.

So? The verdict for my bistronomic experience. Daring, and I would, in a bizarre way, associate this experience with my countless meals at St John. Back to basic but re-interpreted in a very clever way. Sadly, I didn’t know the essence of French food as much as the English to totally understand how all the dishes at Le Chateaubriand were constructed. That said, I’d love to go back and try some more. Yum!

Enough said,

My head rating says, “9 out of 10″.

My heart rating says, “7 out of 10″.

LE CHATEAUBRIAND

129 Avenue Parmentier
75011 Paris
France

Tel. +331 4357 4595