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Restaurant of revolutionaries
by Francis Bown
Haute cuisine did not seem to figure much in my schoolboy
history books. I recall King Alfred allowing some gateaux to caramelize, and,
er… that's about it. Not so in France.
The French have their priorities right. Even during the Revolution, the
pleasures of the table were not neglected. While the Montagnards were upstairs
plotting his downfall, Citizen Robespierre was downstairs enjoying a delicious
lunch.
How do I know it was delicious? Because it was at one of the great restaurants
of Paris, Ledoyen (in those days called simply Doyen, after its founder). And
- Paris being Paris - I am sure it was as good in those turbulent days as it
is today. It looks different now, of course. The handsome Classical pavilion
we see by the Champs-Elysées was rebuilt in 1848 (which my same books told me
was another year of revolution in Paris - but, clearly, that was no excuse for
delaying a building project so important for gastronomy). During the Second
Empire it was much frequented by duellists, who liked to down a few bottles of
bubbly here after missing each other with their pistols in the surrounding
woods. Now the shots are fired by a Chef of rare brilliance. And Christian Le
Squer (pronounced 'square') seldom misses his target.
I arrived on a rainy evening in my hotel's Mercedes and was met by a doorman
with an umbrella. (A good omen: it distresses me when some restaurants seem
quite happy to allow their guests to be soaked in the dash between car and
door.) The feeling is of arriving at an opulent mansion for a private dinner
party - for the dining room is on the first floor. The many other apartments
are set aside for functions and impinge little on one's progress. So I swept
up the grand staircase as if I were on my way to supper with Napoleon III and
the Empress Eugénie.
Which is not too fanciful a conceit - for the room still has its contemporary
décor intact, a superb confection of mid 19th century Classical motifs. The
Emperor and his wife would have felt quite at home. As did I, sitting back in
a solid mahogany armchair at a large table covered with white damask. The
table furnishings were appropriately grand, too: good Schott glassware, white
and gold porcelain, Empire style cutlery (engraved with a capital 'L') and a
tall silver candelabrum with 5 tapering wax candles (lit by a waiter as I
sipped my flute of blanc de blanc champagne).
Through the windows the Champs-Elysées was full of traffic and people, but
inside all was calm. Waiters in black tie (expertly marshalled by directeur
Patrick Simiand) lifted silver domes and rushed to replace the napkins of
those who had momentarily left the table; ladies carefully positioned their
Gucci handbags on the special little handbag stools provided; and I wondered
whether to move the adjustable table lamp conveniently positioned at shoulder
height. But no, its golden glow fell properly on the pages of one of the most
wonderful lists of French wines you will ever see. If you love claret (and who
in his right palate does not?), prepare to drool now. 1945 Haut Brion (£1200),
1961 Haut Brion (£900), 1945 Margaux (£1500), 1961 Lafite (£1200), 1929 Cheval
Blanc (£1500)… I could continue, but an excess of riches is not good for us.
Alain Loiseau is a lucky sommelier to care for such treasure.
As you will have gathered, Ledoyen is not the place for a cheap night out. But
you do not have to mortgage the estate or have invented a computer game to
partake of its pleasures. A set dinner of 5 courses is available at £72 , or
at £120 with a glass of appropriate wine with each course. And a bottle of red
from the South West of France can be had for a mere £9.50.
I plunged into the carte and enjoyed myself tremendously. Chef Le Squer's food
is awarded two stars by the Michelin inspectors, and it thoroughly deserves
them. Slice after slice of black truffle completely hid the plate of creamy
sabayon beneath. I could think of no better truffle dish - until I tasted my
companion's first course, a little truffle pie with truffle sauce. Magical.
The rich, firm flesh of braised turbot also featured truffle, in its
accompanying butter. Excellent. Wild duck was carved by the table. I liked its
pink meat, but I should have realized that its spicy covering would not be
entirely to my taste. Cheeses included lovely Mimolette and Epoisses. For the
pudding I attempted Le Grand Dessert, five small portions of delicious
delicacies - from which my notes, well nigh illegible by this stage, reveal
that I was particularly impressed by those with pineapple and prune. (£140 for
these courses.)
The illegibility is significant, for it was the result of the generosity of
the waiters, constantly eager to refill what I had supposed would be one glass
of wine with each course. With the puddings Monsieur Loiseau appeared with a
tray upon which were my sweet wines - five different glasses…
If I swept up the grand staircase, I staggered down it. But it was a supremely
happy stagger, for I had dined and supped well. As well as Robespierre? So I
would venture. For history and haute cuisine, you will not find better than
Ledoyen.
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Ledoyen
Carré Champs-Elysées (1st floor),
Paris 75008,
France.
Telephone +33 1 53 05 10 01
Fax +33 1 47 42 55 01
Closed: August, Saturday and Sunday
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© 2002 by Francis Bown. Used by permission.
All rights reserved. For reviews of hotels and restaurants across the world, visit www.BownsBest.com
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