La Table du Lancaster in Paris

The Cha Xiu Bao Review: October 21, 2004

November 17, 2004
La Table du Lancaster in Paris
7 Rue de Berri, Paris

Dinner on Oct 21, 2004

The cooking in Table of Lancaster is both good and original;
but the part that is good is not original,
and the part that is original is not good.

List of Lame (2004)

Chaxiubao, a patron

It is evident the décor in TL is very oriental. The motifs painted in the walls are Chinese, the paintings hung around the walls are Chinese, the terraced garden outside the dining room is in classical Chinese Zen setting, the waitress are wearing silky capped sleeve short cheongsam (qipao), and even the menu covers are showing the oriental influence. This is Paris, after all, a place that is open to anything as long as it is not tawdry but tasteful.

With everything so Chinese and so Zen engaging, the food however, doesn't have much to do with Chinese. Rather, it is fusion food -- modern, eclectic food with a French flair so-called -- the kind of food we gourmets sometimes have to stand in line to hate. While there are quite a few people claimed to fame with this fusion maneuvers; more often than not, most simply flopped. On the night I visited, the kitchen failed to deliver a decent fusion meal to me. Granted, the kitchen of this newly designed dining room is run by consulting Chef Michel Troisgros, the son of the legendary three-star Chef Pierre Troisgros. But on this very night, his consultation project disappointed me.

The menu of TL, though short, is something extraordinary. Instead of the normal entrée, main and dessert layout, this menu is divided into six different headings: l’esprit; l’eclat; le piquant; la vivacite; la verdeur and l’aigrelet – very Zen master, very mind-boggling for someone who don’t know French well, if you ask me.

Seeing my broken French was carrying me to nowhere, I asked the waitress in qipao for advices about the signature dishes they offered, to which she replied with the most clichéque answer a wait staff could come up with: everything is good in here. To this, I decided to tackle this mere go-between's clichéque with my naivety.  I simply asked her to explain all items in the menu to me one by one. About 5 minutes and an exhausted explanation in English later, I ordered the tuna tartare for entrée, the calf kidney with anchovies and basil sauces for main course and the “sabayon a la chartreuse verte, au yaourt” for dessert.

The tuna tartare was very fresh. For some reasons, it was divided into 2 sections. In this way it looked more like a dish from a Japanese sushi bar than from a posh French dining room. The sauce accompanying the tuna tartare was a mixture of peanuts and chili sauce, very Sichuan style. In fact, I couldn’t tell what was the difference between this and those I had in China, the place I came from… It was good but not original.

The calf kidney with anchovies and basil sauces was the next to come. Its presentation was original and engaging: 6 pieces of gently cooked calf kidney bathed in fresh basil sauces with each topped with a morsel of anchovy. In the middle of the plate, there were 3 bits of broccoflower drizzled with olive oil. The calf kidney was tender and well executed. The basil sauces, though indeed fresh, was not flavorsome enough whereas the anchovies failed to balance the kidney with its bitterness and saltiness simply because its flavor was not heavy enough. The presentation of the dish was original but its taste was not good. Feast to eyes but flat to mouth.

The dessert was disappointing. It tasted like a student’s homework from the home economics class. The sabayon wasn’t spongy and the cream aside tasted insipid. At any given day, I can get a smarter deal from the food market of the Bon Marche Department Store. It was neither good nor original, the worst of all.

The service, for a hotel of this rank, was not up to the task. I expected better and deserved better for the money I paid. My water was poured but not refilled until long. On a casual count, it took more than 10 minutes for the waitress to refill my empty glass. In either Taillevent or Grand Véfour, it took less than 10 seconds. The fact that the waiter spilt drips of water into my wine without himself noticing was something for every wine lover to feel sad. And bizarrely, even though I booked more than 1 month in advance and was the first one to arrive at the restaurant, I was asked to sit outside in the bar room instead of the dining room. What a lame.

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