I
like many things about the 18th Century. Its
architecture and its furniture provide us
with some of the supreme achievements of
humankind. And so does one of its
restaurants.
Let us go back to 1784. The place is
Paris. Monsieur Aubertot decides to open an
eatery in the arcade at the bottom of the
Palais Royal gardens. He calls it the Café
de Chartres. Eventually, it is bought by
Jean Véfour and before long – Mr. Véfour not
being one to stand in the way of a little
self-aggrandizement – the name of the dining
room is Le Grand Véfour. And thus it is
today. In this place Napoleon discussed
tactics with Josephine, Victor Hugo thought
about the miserable ones, Jean-Paul Sartre
pondered the mystery of existence…and I ate
foie gras ravioli with truffled cream.
I first tasted this sublime masterpiece
some years ago, when the Chef – the
brilliant Guy Martin from Savoy – could
boast only two Michelin stars. I said then
that it was an outrage that a man who could
produce this edible masterpiece was denied a
third star. It took the Michelin men until
2000 to concede my point. Now, at last, Mr
Martin has joined the culinary elite and is
a three-star Chef. At my recent visit, he
was looking younger than ever (he was born
in 1957), so I conclude that such deserved
recognition does wonders for one’s
metabolism.
I
sat at one of my favourite tables, the one
in the corner to which the writer Colette,
crippled with rheumatism, would be carried.
There I perched on the crimson velvet
banquette, a white tablecloth before me,
sipped from a flute of pink Taittinger
champagne and admired once again this
exquisite jewel box of a room. Few spaces
can boast such a purposeful riot of black,
gold, red and white. This confection both
pleases and relaxes. As the tables filled,
an atmosphere of easy enjoyment filled the
air as the waiters in black tie began to
bring forth the kitchen’s splendours.
As you would expect, this is not a cheap
restaurant. The four-course meal I am about
to describe costs £165 for one person, not
including the wine. But the quality of the
ingredients and the expertise and
intelligence with which they are handled
make this a price well worth paying. Take
the truffle. I nearly said, the humble
truffle – but there is nothing humble about
the black truffle. For my inspection, Le
Grand Véfour’s efficient and charming maitre
d’, Christian David, brought a silver bowl
piled high with the divine fungus. I
sniffed. (What did I smell? The concentrated
aroma of a prep school laundry basket. This
sounds foul, does it not? And yet somehow,
in context, it is utterly captivating.) Mr
David explained that it had, in fact, been a
poor year for truffles and that it had taken
25 kilos to produce this bowl of top quality
specimens.
To begin my meal, therefore, it was right
to choose the salad of potatoes and
truffles. This was simplicity itself: a
plate of sliced, boiled potatoes, covered
with slices of truffle, over which I was
encouraged to sprinkle a little sea salt.
Delicious. Then the precious gem. Soft pasta
cases enclosing hot, melting, duck foie gras
with an accompaniment of foamed cream shot
through with specks of more black truffle. I
have yet to find a dish in the world with
which I would prefer to begin a meal. Words
cannot do it justice, so I will simply say –
divine.
For my main course I chose a roasted
pigeon, the deep flavour of its pink flesh
enriched with a truffled jus. (You will
forgive me, I hope, for being unable to
resist the truffle when it is in season.) To
add an extra dimension of taste and texture,
there came also on the plate a small piece
of toast topped with foie gras. To finish, a
contrasting touch of lightness in a (goat’s)
cheesecake with pieces of mango and a litchi
sorbet.
Wine here need not cause bankruptcy. A
white from the Languedoc can be had for £24.
Apart from 8 ‘foreign’ bottles, including
one from Greece, the selection is entirely
French and includes many of the most
prestigious names. Your sweet tooth can be
satisfied by 1949 Yquem at £1500, and your
craving for the top red burgundy by 1991
Romanée-Conti at £3000. Sommelier Richard
Dedebat brought me two burgundies from the
Côte de Beaune. The white Santenay (Les
Gravières, Dom. Borgeot, 1999 - £52) was
excellent – its toast, butter and solid
structure making it a fine accompaniment for
the truffle salad and the ravioli. But the
red Savigny-Les-Beaune was a real
disappointment – slight, weak, bland,
indifferent – best forgotten (which,
doubtless, is why I omitted to note its
name…).
Yet this tiny blemish simply emphasized
just how immaculate was everything else at
Le Grand Véfour – especially that foie gras
ravioli. For giving us this wonderful
restaurant, I salute the 18th Century.
LE GRAND
VÉFOUR
17 rue Beaujolais, 75001, Paris, France.
Telephone +33 1 42 96 56 27
Fax +33 1 42 86 80 71
Email: grand.vefour@wanadoo.fr
Closed: August, Friday evening, Saturday,
Sunday
Set lunch: £45
© 2003 Francis Bown. Used by
permission. All rights reserved. For reviews of hotels and
restaurants across the world, visit
www.BownsBest.com
)