Food Crush

I am going to try and write this post without using any of the following words and phrases: “new wave bistronomy”, “inspired by his basque heritage”, “unintimidating decor”, “thwarting convention” or “raw culinary genius”.

If you have been anywhere near a French food magazine or blog space recently you have probably already guessed I’m about to write about Iñaki Aizpitarte and his bistro Chateaubriand...either that or you’re trying to figure out the Basque roots of Daniel Rose. 

Chateaubriand was named 11th best restaurant in the world by this years S.Pelligrino World’s 50 Best Restaurant panel and I get it.  I really really get it.  My first night at the chilled bistro I  undoubtedly my vocal expressions of joy caused my friends to uncomfortably shift in their seats and feign ignorance as to our relationship when plate after plate of sexy, creative and really smart food sauntered to our table. More correctly, it was sauntered to our table by a gillette (the collective noun for perfectly tended facial hair) of smooth, understated and nearly earnest front of house staff who could each talk knowledgeably of the ever changing menu and ideally priced wine list.

I’ve been back three times in the past couple of months and on each visit the fixe menu (50 Euro for 5 courses which changes daily) has prompted this same reaction from me. Usually by the time a series of amuse bouche have been served (drunken prawns, seared tuna, ceviche jus) I realise that to maintain ongoing friendships I may have to dine alone next time...or only with my equally amused friends from culinary school. 

Aizitarte (who appears from my stalking online to have a penchant for leather and ‘bad boy’ themed photo shoots) has no formal training, having realised and committed to his culinary career relatively late for a chef.  I feel this translates in the fresh, often raw (actually raw, not of raw emotion, that would be a little too much hyperbole despite my obvious persuasion towards this restaurant) food offerings at Chateaubriand which feel unconstrained by the stereotypes of classic French cuisine (of which I am becoming a certified expert at Le Cordon Bleu, be it happily, one knob of butter at a time).  

The food at Chateaubriand focuses on divine produce, is clean in its construction and appears deceivingly simple in technique sometimes. Brittany cockles and razor clams, baby leek, herbs and Jerusalem artichoke crisps.  Delicious.

Poached cod, just opaque, with baby vegetables and a cauliflower emulsion, so calm in flavour and colour that I nearly overlooked in before the final ribbon of taste reminded me it was also delicious.

The perfectly seared beef fillet hidden beneath a salad of both cooked and raw beets, radish and leaves, dressed in a beet and mustard seed jus is bright and bitey.  Its always sad at this point when the course count tips in favour of the end and you can see other tables only starting out their menu. I would usually ask the waiter whether it is possible to take cheese and dessert to postpone the inevitable.  It’s France, the answer is always yes.        

As a culinary student, the pairings Aizitarte and his team plate are intimidating and exciting in equal measure.  Red fruits, raspberry dust, fried basil and red fruit sponge send little punches all over your mouth which are then soothed by a rice flavoured ice cream and a semi-sweet biscuit crumble.  The dish looks too amazing, perhaps a simple warning signal not to dine in white silk clothing? 

All I can say is go to Chateaubriand, believe all the hype, wear something suitably French and aloof and make sure you have a good list of friends to go back with next time just in case you are as incapable of restraint as I am.

(Chateaubriand, 129 Avenue Parmentier, 75011 Paris, +33 (0) 1 4357 4595, Reservations necessary for 8pm sitting)

Plenty - Yotam Ottolenghi...In loving memory of Pointer

I'd like to start by dedicating this post to the memory of the finger pad on my left pointer finger.  Pointer was a brave digit who we sadly lost to fatal burns during the making of this post.  But she died doing what she loved best, lathered in caramel. She will, I imagine, post-humously audition for the role of The English Patient in the finger puppet adaptation of Michael Ondaatji's classic tale of ill-fated desire, espionage and self discovery in wartime Saharan Africa. I will remember her fondly.

So as you can see, at this point it is: Plenty (the recent vegetarian cookbook released by London chef and restauranteur Yotam Ottolenghi) (1), Miss Devour (0).  If you count the fact I even bought a vegetarian cookbook an achievement in itself, it’s probably more like 2:1 down.

I justified the uncharacteristic purchase of a vegetarian cookbook firstly, because Ottolenghi is not himself a vegetarian (I enjoy the irony of the publication) and secondly, with a desire for something new after flicking, cooking, eating and being inspired by his first cookbook, Ottolenghi: The Cookbook, about one hundred and seventeen times over.   

Plenty is very much the ‘to be continued’ episode of Ottelenghi's first book.  Fresh flavours, bold combinations and excitingly for me, ingredients and ideas I just don’t see often in the restaurants of Paris.  I adore French food, obviously, but regularly crave the diversity of tastes and cuisine fusions I enjoyed in London and Australia.  I also yearn for a cooked vegetable which you could not use the words limp, drowned or flaccid to describe. Unsavoury dining descriptions really, but regularly how I sadly experience vegetables cooked in classic French bistros.

Plenty is divided into chapters focussing on essential elements or ingredients: The Mighty Aubergine, Green Things, Funny Onions. Recipes are generally not complex and happily the ingredients lists are short enough to pick up at the market and carry home (a real consideration on a velib). There is a mix of snacks and starters (marinated mushrooms with walnut and tahini yoghurt), sides (caramelised fennel with goat’s curd) and mains (the ultimate winter cous cous) and where a dish would work well with a meat, Ottelenghi lets us know.

I took to the kitchen with his recipe for Surprise Tatin. A savory take on a French classic. I have a low to medium-grade obsession with each ingredient so it seemed a perfect starting point to my inevitable relationship with this book. 

Surprise Tatin adapted from Plenty, Yotam Ottolenghi, 2010. 

200g cherry tomatoes (I slowly oven dried them at 130 C with salt, pepper, garlic, olive oil and thyme, segmented ripe tomatoes will work equally as well)

500g baby potatoes (the smaller the better, boiled in salted water until just cooked)

1 large onion (I used two, caramelised with butter and water until honey coloured)

Oregano (or I used thyme simply because I had plenty in the cupboard)

150g of hard goats cheese

1 puff pastry sheet

40g sugar

10g butter (I didn’t use this and made my caramel with water and sugar only)

After lining a round cake tin with paper, you make a medium dark caramel with the water and sugar and pour this directly into the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle the caramel with your herb(s) and flaked sea salt depending on your taste.

Next trim the tops and tails off the mini potatoes so they are all roughly 2 cms high and set them on top of the caramel cut side down.  Keep thinking upside down.  It’s perhaps an obvious statement, but keep in mind what the tart will look like when you turn it out.

Push the 'confit' tomatoes and caramelised onions into the holes around the potatoes and spread the sliced goats cheese evenly across the mosaic of deliciousness.  You can season at any point and may even like to use some fine slices of garlic in there too. Finally lay a round of pastry on top, being careful to tuck the edges of the pastry around the pan and hug all the potatoes. 

Start the tart off in a 200 C oven for 25 minutes then turn the oven down to about 180 C for a further 15 minutes.  This should ensure the pastry is cooked through and you won’t end up with a soggy base.  Don’t leave the tart in the tin for more than a couple of minutes after baking (the caramel will set and you’ll never get it out) and turn the tart out while holding your breath and hoping you don’t loose half of it in The Flip. Tah Dah!

A few tips: Molten caramel burns.  Molten caramel may require the purchase of oven cleaner.  Molten caramel is truly delicious in this dish with some flakey sea salt sprinkled just before layering the potato rounds. 

Me, I'll will probably take a hiatus from molten caramel at least in the short term.  That said, I'll be making this dish again and next time want to experiment with pumpkin, chevre and basil/pesto or maybe caramelised onions, gorgonzola and sage with some toasted walnuts for garnish.  In the mean time Pointer and I wish you and your fingers luck and fun with this one.