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| Springtime In Paris |
(This story is re-printed from an earlier Wines By Pablo Post.)
This feast began with Chef Gerard Boyer’s “Salad For My Father,” in French of course. I tell people if you see a wine that is Martha’s Vineyard, Or Pour Mon Mere Edith, it has to be good. No good chef or winemaker/winery owner is going to name a bad product after a loved one.
So, onto that first meal. The night before I had dined at a place that would not be described as shabby – the Royal Hotel and Restaurant in the countryside near Epernay (my room of four nights had sliding glass doors that looked out over about four or five miles of vineyards, mostly owned by Moet & Chandon, that stretched to Epernay). I recently "googled" this place and saw it now costs about $750 per night for that beautiful aforementioned suite.)
So, for that night before, I had a salad with foie gras pieces about the size of one’s thumb. The foie gras, the salad and the rest of the meal was a fine dining experience.
But, the next day at Boyer Les Crayeres (at the time the restaurant sat only about 60 in any season – there were no outdoor tables) my meal began with Gerard’s salad for his father. My first bite was a piece of foie gras about the size of the nail on a little finger.
There was an explosion of taste that is simply indescribable.
Next came a course of fish, followed by a demitasse of ginger tea to “clear the palate.”
(Throughout the three-hour dining experience, my hostess and I enjoyed Pommery Brut Royal: Pommery, which owned the building where the restaurant was located, always had a table on demand, sort of like Frank Sinatra at the 21 Club in Manhattan, or a similar fine establishment; we had Pommery Brut, only, with each course, so I could see how well champagne goes with all foods, my hostess explained to me.)
The next course, a filet of beef cooked inside a breaded pouch, came rolling to the table on a cart; the waiter used a knife to open the breaded pouch, used to seal in the meat’s flavor, before slicing our next course, and presenting it on our plates (the breaded pouch was discarded; I am thinking as I write this, I wish I had it now, and not to discard!).
The final course was a home-made in the Les Crayeres’ kitchen pistachio ice cream, served in a small dish that had been rubbed with some fruit concoction, raspberry I believe.
Let me be succinct and say simply, the meal was superb.
Earlier in the day, my hostess has asked if I had ever dined at a three star restaurant in France (Michelin three-star, the top ranking in the world).
I replied, no I had not, and she just smiled.
An important note: earlier in the day someone representing a Champagne producer’s association replied, “Of Course,” when I asked if I should wear a tie.
Before that meal, answering the same question, my hostess said, “If you wish.”
Well, I had on a nice grey suit that I always wore in places like Paris, Washington, D.C. and New York City back then. I figured it was enough.
It was.
Of the thirty or so men dining that night I would say 60 percent or more were “sans cravat.”
I tell people if you can afford to dine in such an establishment, you can wear what you want to wear.
(Looking up the prices of that meal on the beautiful large-sized menu I kept for a souvenir, decorated with representations of watercolor paintings executed by a painter friend of Gerard Boyer, I saw that the price of the meal I had enjoyed, sans Champagne, was the then French Franc equivalent of 400 U.S. dollars.)
My second dining experience came at the Boyer Les Crayerer at “lunchtime” (sounds too parochial for that sort of feast!).
I remember having a cocktail of cognac, champagne and fresh, small sized pieces of strawberries; then I had a bottle (by myself) of a Mumm’s Blanc de Blanc (from the chardonnay grape only) Cremant that was unbelievable (I do not think it was sold outside of France at the time). Then I had a half bottle of a fine (and very strong) Bordeaux rouge with a duck course, followed by a glass of Pommery Champagne Cuvee Louise Pommery in honor of the woman (that’s right, woman) who introduced dry champagne to the world; before Louise Pommery, who took over Pommery after her husband died, introduced that style of champagne to the world, all champagnes were sweet.
(Mentioning only chardonnay grapes go into a Blanc de Blanc wine, I should add that all champagnes are made from these grape varietals only: chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier.)
Afterwards, after my second dining experience at the Boyer Les Crayeres, I had that multi-ounce glass of Remy Martin XO, which I wrote about earlier in this blog.
And then, I am very proud to say as an artist and photographer, I took a hand-held, natural-light image of Chef Boyer in his kitchen with my professional grade Canon 35 MM camera that was good enough to be published in a national wine magazine in the U.S.
How I captured such an image after drinking all that I just described must say a lot about the benefits of fine French cuisine.
Writing for either The Wine News, or Wine Enthusiast, I don’t remember which, I noted that with many trips to the places where Champagnes and Cognacs originate, and with sampling both during many different visits to champagne and cognac houses each day, and with more wine or cognac with meals, I never suffered a bad hangover during my working trips to France.
I guess it was because I was dining well at the time.
So, that is the tale of the two meals at the Boyer Les Crayeres.
To repeat myself, let me say the toast again, that I made above:
“A Votre Sante, Gerard Boyer.”
(Let me add: What A Chef! When you experience cuisine prepared in the kitchen of such a chef, you understand why France regards its best chefs as it regards its best politicians and artists: from DeGaulle and Mitterand (from the Charente Region, home of Cognac) to Picasso, Miro, Braque, Hugo, Bizet and Ravel. Also, searching the Internet, I just discovered that Gerard Boyer has written a book: to get a better idea of the great dining experiences I had courtesy of this great chef, I have a two word suggestion – Get it.)
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| Self-Portrait on the terrace of the Closerie des Lilas in Paris, another place for the world's finest dining (delicious oysters are a specialty). |
