Since,
dear Reader, I know that you are a person of
some significance, I have little doubt that
the time will come when you need to visit
the President of France. For the occasion
you will require an hotel within a few
moments’ stroll of the Elysée Palace, in the
very grandest part of town. And, as someone
of taste and refinement, you will need your
lodgings to be of unsurpassed (but discreet)
elegance, to be possessed of a restaurant
which is recognised as one of the very
finest in the French capital and to be
served by a staff which is renowned for the
virtues of courtesy and propriety. You will
therefore head for Le Bristol.
In
1925 the architects Ubdenstock and Cassan
constructed on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré
a handsome pile in the manner of an 18th
century town palace. Into it were taken
Gobelins tapestries and fine pieces of
period furniture. Then, just before the
Second World War, the Louvre Museum decided
to sell some of its ‘spare’ paintings, and
many of them went to the hotel. The result
is that Le Bristol is a treasure house of
good taste and delicate refinement. It is
entirely appropriate that it should be named
after that renowned 18th century traveller
and aesthete, the 4th Earl of Bristol – who
was also the Bishop of Derry. I am sure,
from his heavenly perch, he would approve of
the delightful fountain from his own day,
which – newly restored – now adorns what is
the largest hotel garden in Paris
(pictured).
I certainly
approved of the atmosphere in the spacious
entrance lobby. I seldom arrive at a great
hotel without having in my mind some image
of its previous guests. At Le Bristol I knew
that I had been preceded by Harry Truman,
Charlie Chaplin and Marilyn Monroe. This
medley of high politics, low comedy and
blonde iconography kept me smiling as I was
taken up to the third floor in the beautiful
lift.
Room
311 is called a ‘Prestige Double’ and is
therefore 810 euros a night for two,
breakfast extra. Beyond its proper hallway I
found an oval chamber in cream and white.
(The colour scheme throughout the hotel’s
162 rooms is similarly light.) Behind the
mirrored doors of the fitted wardrobes was
both an abundance of hanging space and my
private safe. Lighting was provided by 5
table lamps and a (dimmable) crystal
chandelier. Items of furniture, like the
chairs and writing desk, were in the Louis
XVI style. A sofa provided soft seating and
the controllable air conditioning ensured
that the temperature was to my taste. In the
white marble bathroom (of generous size)
were two wash basins, a tub of good capacity
and a separate shower. Bars of my favourite
soap (by Hermès) facilitated my ablutions.
All in all, I found this accommodation to be
quiet, spacious and comfortable.
Still,
I am a restless little soul, so I was soon
on my way downstairs for tea. Those of us
who are English tend to suppose that we
alone, among all the nations of the world,
can prepare a proper afternoon tea. We are
wrong. The set afternoon tea at Le Bristol
(pictured) is a small masterpiece for 30
euros. Overlooked by a portrait of
Marie-Antoinette by Drouhais (not quite as
appropriate as some might suppose, for when
the Queen said, “Let them eat cake”, she was
actually – rather sensibly – enquiring
whether the hungry might be fed with
brioche) and served by a charming waiter
called Vincent, I was deeply impressed by
the superb quality of these sandwiches and
cakes (the work of the Pastry Chef, Laurent
Jeannin). The taste of the gorgeous coffee
éclair, topped with gold leaf, remains with
me still. I chose to drink Assam tea –
favori des Anglais, as the menu
informed me. But here was a mystery. I
looked into the pot, and looked and looked.
Where were the tea leaves or the tea bags?
Nowhere. My puzzlement was dispelled by
Vincent: the guests’ tea pots were filled
from larger tea pots in the kitchen. I had
never before come across this arrangement.
Thus
fortified, I wondered whether to stretch my
limbs in the swimming pool on the 6th floor
(pictured) or submit myself to a bit of
pampering in the hotel’s Anne Semonin Spa
(pictured). But a pleasant languor began to
overtake me, so I decided instead to return
to my room for the afternoon doze. This was
a ritual much loved by my father, and I
commend it to you. It prepares the
constitution for dinner.
Le Bristol has
two dining rooms, one for summer and one for
winter. The former (pictured) is bright,
flooded with natural light and overlooks the
hotel garden. This being in the October to
April period, my destination was the Winter
Restaurant (pictured). It is my custom to
dress as well as I can for dinner – starched
collar, suit from Savile Row, bespoke shoes
and so on – and I was particularly pleased
to have done so on this occasion. To enter
this ravishing and sumptuous apartment was a
joy. Chandeliers of Baccarat crystal,
Regency panelling of Hungarian oak,
paintings from the 1920s by Gustave-Louis
Jaulmes and 18th century Lille tapestries
combined with the warm colours of thick
carpet and silk upholstery to make me feel
thoroughly pampered and at ease.
1st maître d’
Christophe Macaigne showed me to a red
fauteuil and immediately had brought a
cushion to ensure that my back was
comfortable – helpful fellow. Indeed, the
service throughout the evening from waiters
in black tie, like Fabrice Torres, was of
the highest order. Silver domes were lifted
and damask napkins were replaced with style
and aplomb. I noticed that a famous film
star and her husband had arrived at a table
nearby, but this caused no ripple whatever
on the calm surface of the room’s
atmosphere. All was peaceful, happy
contentment – which is just what I want at a
restaurant.
Chef
Eric Frechon (pictured) has two Michelin
stars. He has worked in some of the most
prestigious kitchens in Paris – at
Taillevent, at Tour D'Argent and at Les
Ambassadeurs. His cooking at Le Bristol is
much admired. He offers a 7 course set
dinner for 190 euros. My four courses from
the carte cost 279 euros. These prices are
not low, of course, but they are for food
which is based upon the very finest
ingredients, prepared by a famous chef and
served in surroundings of remarkable
splendour. As I drank from sparkling Riedel
glasses (the Vinum range) and ate with
gleaming Christofle cutlery from the best
Bernardaud porcelain, it struck me that the
Bristol Restaurant was not only expensive:
it was also good value.
I began with
blue lobster, with honey and coriander
vinaigrette, chilled green apple and white
radish. It sounds fairly straight forward,
but there was actually a lot going on here.
This dish was precise, delicate, intricate
and beautifully made. If I may be allowed to
compare a plate of food to a wrist watch, it
was like a compliqué by Patek
Philippe. Next was macaroni, stuffed with
black truffle, artichoke and duck foie gras
and gratinated with Parmesan cheese. This
was prettily presented. Its robust flavours
went well with a glass of 1999 Dom Pérignon.
My main course brought some super meat. Rack
and saddle of suckling lamb was both tender
and tasty, and came with carrots cooked in
turmeric and chick pea and cumin mash. The
concluding hot soufflé was utterly delicious
and captured the essence of tangerine. It
came with iced tangerine sorbet and a tiny
glass of mandarine impériale.
The wine list
of Chef Sommelier Jérôme Moreau offers
hundreds of those bottles which make the
French most proud. Prices run from 38 euros
for a white from the Jura to 16,470 euros
for the 1961 Pétrus, with many wines in the
60-100 euros range. Lovers of burgundy and
bordeaux will find in this cellar the
bottles of which dreams are made. Here is a
little selection for you (all the prices are
in euros): 1990 DRC Montrachet (2,680), 1990
Romanée-Conti (13,800), 1947 Yquem (7,880),
1945 Lafite (8,330), 1945 Cheval Blanc
(7,765), 1947 Latour (4,800) and 1961
Margaux (3,660). From my own drinking, I
will recommend the 2000 vintage of the
second wine of Chateau Montrose – quite
austere, with no hint of that New World
ripeness which is now so popular, but with
an intriguing blend of blackcurrants and
damp cellar (Dame de Montrose – 95 euros).
Each
morning I returned to this handsome chamber
(now more brightly lit) for breakfast (51
euros). To my table waiters in tailcoats
brought coffee, pastries and glasses of
freshly squeezed Granny Smith apple juice.
(I will mention here the excellence of the
service I encountered throughout the hotel.
The General Manager, Pierre Ferchaud –
pictured – has a team of which he can be
proud.) From the buffet I made it my habit
to secure dishes of pineapple, stewed pears,
Rice Crispies and bread and butter pudding
(yes, bread and butter pudding) and a plate
of crispy bacon. All these comestibles were
of the highest quality. My days at Le
Bristol started well.
And how were
things at the Elysée Palace? I do not know,
for my invitation must, on this occasion,
have been mislaid in the post. But I do know
how things were at the Hôtel Le Bristol. Le
Bristol was - as she always is - warm,
welcoming, immaculately turned out and
deliciously glamorous. In truth, Le Bristol
is the perfect place to stay in Paris if you
are visiting the President of the French
Republic - and even if you are not.
