Saltpepperlime

It’s a five-hour ride from Paris to Pau on the TGV. The train flies down as far as Tours, then medium speed to Bordeaux, before slowing even more until Pau. It is as if someone wants you to watch, watch the progression of this flat land until they appear: the Pyrenees. The sun sets, the ground darkens, the sky fires pink, and the mountains seem more clearly defined. First looking like a jagged cloud on the horizon, but then turn into a soft, reassuring frame to the earth.

It is dark when we arrive. Taxi. Rental car. Pau is charming but badly lit. We find our way to Jurançon, only a few kilometers from Pau. Everything is dead in the suburbs of Pau that turn in to Jurançon except for the restaurant where we meet our friends, Henri Ramonteu, of Domaine Cauhapé, his wife and his son Nicolas.

Chez Ruffet.

Fresh. Creative. Digestable. The most surprising and delicious dish is probably the first one of our menu: Raviole ouverte au Cacao, Utah Beach No1, Vierge de Butternuts-Chataignes et Bigorneaux. The raw butternut and chestnuts gives great freshness and crunch to the dish. The oysters are of superbe Gillardeau –like quality, the Cacao very delicate. The purity of ingredients is preserved.

Petit Manseng

We start with a Clos Guirouilh 2006 La Perine (meaning small stones) Pure and precise with spicy apricots and lots of floral aromas. No defects, but it is a more delicate wine than I expect from Jurançon Sec.

I am happy to move on to Cauhapé 2007 La Canopée. Made with 100% Petit Manseng grapes, this is a bomb. Precise, concentrated, chiseled layers of aromas of flowers, nuts, candied grapefruit. And ‘topographical relief’ (in The Duc’s terms) in the mouth. This wine is almost tannic with ginger and pepper of all colors that render it extraordinarily long.

Later we have the Domaine de Souche Jurançon Sec 2007 and it seems like the polar opposite of La Canopée. Lacks precision (maybe even slightly reduced in the nose) and slightly smoky lemon butter in the mouth.

Nicolas & Henri Ramonteu

Father and Son arrive early the next morning to take us to visit vines. We climb in the back of the pick-up to get to the different parcels. Crisp air greeting us and the Pyrenees always standing by. Our feet wet with dew, we taste grapes and kick stones. 80% of the crop is still hanging on the vines. The grape varieties that they use-primarily petit and Gros Manseng- have high levels of acidity that are concentrated by the wind.

Nicolas, the son, a 35 year old oenologist is back for a visit from New Zealand where he lives and works (Alluviale) for the moment….

He nudges his father with ideas and controled confrontation. Each on their own says that one day he’ll be back to take over…. Who knows… Meanwhile, in his prime, Henri has exudes energy and love for his land, his grapes, and his wine.

Then we taste through the range (s).

And finish with the ultimate combo tomme de brebis – made to be had with a dry Petit Manseng.

Cauhapé et tome de brebis

golden chardonnay in Chassagne 1er Cru La Maltroie

We didn’t have to go far with Alexandre Moreau to see some of his ripe Chardonnay in Cote de Beaune (Burgundy), we just crossed the street from his cellar and into Chassagne 1er Cru La Maltroie vineyard.

Here, too, the leaves were beautifully green. Chardonnay grapes getting golden like this is rarely to be seen. Getting golden grapes only happens in good to great vintages. It is a sign of ripeness and almost always guarantees the magical complexity of Chardonnay that is unique to Burgundy. Here the pips were riper (more brown and less tannic) than those tasted in the Cote de Nuits. The skins were delicate and the juice, sweet already.

Alexandre Moreau in Chassagne 1er Cru La Maltroie

As a general rule of thumb to estimate harvest dates, one counts 100 days from the flowering of the vines. Weather conditions during those 100 days can modify harvest dates, but in general it is approximately 100 days to maturity of grapes. Alexandre tells us that in this vineyard, 100 days would mean harvesting it on the 10^th of September.

shot Chardonnay grapes

In this photo, we can see that there are some shot grapes (known as millerandé, in French). This is a bunch of grapes where the grapes are of variable size and diameter. This comes mainly from a flowering that takes a long time to take place. It is generally a positive sign. The different sizes of grapes mean that all the grapes taste different bringing added complexity to the aromas and flavors of the ensuing wine. (This is true for both red and white.) Smaller grapes have less juice proportionally to the skins. These smaller grapes are more concentrated, both in acidity and alcohol…and flavor!

Foie gras with raspberries and red bell pepper

How do you make foie gras go with Beaujolais Villages?

Start by giving the chef a glass or two. Just so that he can get the creative juices flowing…

The young chef at Auberge de Chantemerle came up with an incredibly creative and unique idea that worked beautifully: Foie gras with a jelly of red bell peppers and raspberries with hazelnut crumbs.

Why does this dish work? First of all, the red peppers and raspberries go splendidly together as a pair. The combination brings out the red fruit qualities of red pepper making it very complex. The red pepper brings out a spiciness to the raspberry that makes it somewhat electric. Together they have a peppery-ness that jazzes up the foie gras rendering it very digestible and fresh (from the red fruits flavors).

It is not just any Beaujolais that can go with such an exquisite dish. Domaine de La Madone 2006 Beaujolais Villages Cuvée Fut de Chene was up to the task at hand. Made from a selection of La Madone’s finest terroir and barrel aged, this wine oozes Burgundian (read pinot noir) aromas. Gamay does that when it is really well made. (The expression used to describe this is “Le vin pinottes”, which is like saying “the wine is acting like a pinot”). This saturation of Burgundian aromas, mainly expressed by small red and blue berries, make the wine go with the red pepper and raspberries. The well-integrated toastiness in the aromas and flavours, from the 20% new wood, go with the pepperiness of the dish.

The meal we at at the Auberge de Clochermerle (located in a hamlet outside of the village of Le Perreon) on Sunday August 30, 2009 was excellent over all: definitely an address to recommend. A great place for a Sunday lunch in Beaujolais.

perfect green vines in Burgundy

Driving through Burgundy last week, I couldn’t help but be amazed by the beauty of the vines. Everything was so lush, and green, it just radiated health and vibrancy. The color of the vines was almost spring-like. No yellow, brown or red as can be common this time of year, right before harvest.

No, this vintage is something else. The healthiest, most beautiful vines I have seen in the 5 years I have been visiting Burgundy before and during harvest.

Tasting grapes before the harvest teaches you a lot. The growers do it to decide when to harvest. We do it to understand the vintage. What are we looking for? Ripeness of skins (are the skins thick? Think? Bitter? Sweet? Tannic? Pink? Red? Blue? Black), ripeness of pips (are they proportionally big? Small? still green? or turning brown?), and most importantly COMPLEXITY of flavor (simply does the juice taste good?).

On August 28, 2009 Frederic Magnien took us to see ripening Pinot Noir in cote de Nuits. We drove up through the village of Morey St Denis, following Fred’s 4 x 4 off of the paved road and onto a vineyard road. A few seconds later, the rental car scraped the ground. We decided to walk the rest of the way. The ground we walk on seems ideal. Not parched, nor damp.

The parcel of Chaffots is one of the flagships of the Michel Magnien estate, surrounded on 3 sides (North South and East) by Clos St Denis (grand Cru). He de-leafed on one side in July (the northern side). This allows wind to keep things dry and sun to have even more direct access to the grapes.

Pinot Noir in Morey St Denis 1er Cru Les Chaffots

What can we see in this photo?

The leaves are still vigorous and very green. The bunches of grapes are evenly spaced out, well aerated, making it more difficult for rot to set in (I did not see any rot at all in this vineyard). The yield appears regular and not excessive. The health of this vineyard is especially amazing considering that it was hailed upon earlier in July. (Hail that early on in the season is usually not detrimental to the quality, but rather lowers the quantity.)

I thought the grapes already taste really good. The pips were almost fully ripe and the skins, though still a bit tough did not seem bitter or invasive. The juice was sweet and flavorful. Fred thought that they are not yet ripe enough. ‘Skins are essential,’ he said, ‘I’m going to wait until they are ripe. I’ll probably harvest this around the 18th of September. Phenolic maturity needs some more sun.’

Frederic Magnien in MSD 1er Cru Les Chaffots

Sunday. Train ride to Montpellier. The TGV will take us there in a little over 3 hours. As soon as we are out of Paris, and the window is divided horizontally between blue sky and green fields of summer, we pull out the picnic.

We start by opening the wine: a 2003 Meursault Les Tillets from Patrick Javillier which we have in the real wine glasses we like to bring with us. Pure lemon butter. More mineral and more Puligny-like as it ages, with some notes of verbena butter (typical of Puligny). The mouth is fresh. Lemon and honeysuckle with some white pepper notes in the end. Ripe, which is normal considering the 2003 growing season (heat wave), but nothing flabby or exotics here.

“Everyone expects the 2003 to age prematurely, but this one tastes like it is three years old!” I exclaim.

“It’s all about lees.” Replies The Duc. 2003 Chardonnay lees were the best in a half century but a lot of growers were afraid to use them.

We laugh and the changing countryside of France flies by the window.

The Duc pulls out the ‘lunch boxes’ he’s made: pan seared swordfish with sautéed button mushrooms. Very simple; absolutely delicious. The swordfish is undercooked so it tastes a little like veal. Actually some bights taste like chicken too. White burgundy was made for this dish.  We try to make it last as long as possible. Savoring every last bite. I think we were still eating when we passed through the Maconnais. And soon after that, the train crossed into southern vegetation of the Mediterranean.

Maria, heading towards her kitchen and THE black board

There was only one line in the email: “Does anyone know how to spell La REGALADE and frogs legs or what???”

With that we knew that we would have to make a trip to see Maria. Not only to keep our client happy, but also to get some food into our bellies after a long day of tasting.

Its one of those June evenings in Burgundy when the light is spectacular. Our clients can’t believe how light it is. I’m not driving and as we head into Beaune from the north on the RN79, the driver almost misses the little driveway on the left, after the bridge. Thinking back on it, I’m not even sure if there is a sign on the outside. As of this year, though, Maria has put some tables outside on a makeshift terrace that looks frightfully sensual.

Maria knows we are coming. She kisses us. She is a woman who likes to keep things simple. Sparse decoration. Clean white table cloths. A single blackboard of a menu. She wanders in and out of her kitchen. Tells us of her specialties. The Duc wants fish. ‘Oh I’ve got Dover Sole, it’s not on the menu.’ She’s glad we’ve come. ‘Times are tough’, she confides. Later we see that we were her only clients of the evening.

Our client knows what he wants. That’s why he requested the visit to La Regalade. No beating around the bush. Frogs legs, of course. But also morel mushrooms in chicken broth, and truffle coddled eggs. Portions are huge, so we divide things four ways.

Morel mushrooms in broth

We start with the morel mushrooms. Actually the dried kind. She serves them in a chicken broth. Morels were made to go with fowl. And this combo is like getting to the essence of that perfection. Meaty, like both white and dark meat. Also a creaminess that seems inherent in the mushrooms, even if there is no cream in this recipe.

those famous frogs legs

No one makes Frogs legs like Maria. Its not because she’s invented some new recipe or way of preparing them. It is partially because she gets frogs legs that are so bulbous and meaty, and she gets the cooking time perfect to keep them like that. But primarily because they are the epitome of the traditional, buttery, garlicky festival that frogs legs should be.

coddled eggs with summer truffles

The coddled eggs are another world. These are summer truffles, she says. That is why they are whiter on the inside. ‘These are the best summer truffles I’ve ever had.’ muffles someone, savoring the length of this dish. Length driven by the white pepper Maria adds. No bitterness just electricity.

Wine with all of this? We bought a couple of things off of the list. That was our corkage fee for doing some ‘re-tasting’ of Vincent Dureuil’s 2007s.  We were concentrating on the whites. Perfect Chardonnay. Lemon and citrics, also accentuated by the vintage. But a mineral precision and purity that is extraordinary.

The Duc says little as he works on the Dover Sole. We help him with the pommes de terres that come with his dish. One cannot go to La Regalade and not taste Maria’s frites. The best French fries in the Cote d’Or. Everyone agrees. Cut by hand. Wide. You can still guess the shape of the potatoes. Crispy on the outside and soft and moist on the inside. There is a sweetness to them. Must come from a special variety of potatoes. I’ll have to ask Maria.

June light RN74

ready made offerings

I wish I’d caught her name. Our little waitress of the night before. The one who had served our Balinese tasting menu at the Wantilan Café  She could see that we were curious, so she spent a lot of time speaking to us.

It was she who told us about the morning market at Sanur. Just what we had been hoping to find!

veggies and herbs

‘I go in time to be home by six in the morning.  I shop for vegetables and food for my family and I pick up breakfast for my sons there. School starts at seven.’

‘We want to go.’

‘Well it opens around five and the food market goes until about 11.’

She told us how to get there. ‘You probably wont see me,’ she warned, ‘I go to my usual merchants and keep my head down. I must be quick.’

veggies

We left the hotel in the dark and the taxi dropped us on the corner of two streets. It took our eyes some time to adjust to the lack of light. The place was bustling.

We dove into the small alleys of the market, with only enough room to be single file. Dirt floor, littered with trash. The smell of incense and flowers mixed with fish and dirt. In the outside alleys of the market there was a sort of hush. An industrious hush. No loud sounds of human voices but of people moving. Busy. Getting things done.

A woman was chopping a jackfruit. We bought a piece, throwing the skin on the ground. I’d never had it before. Sort of a cross between pear, mango and banana.

Vegetables of all kinds. Dried fish in baskets. Eggs. Tempe and tofu. Ready made offerings with beautiful petals. Rice dishes wrapped in paper. Probably what our little waitress bought for her sons.

bean curd and tempeh

We arrived at a building, the covered part of the market. There was more light there.  Wooden stalls with spreads of fish. Chicken. More vegetables and fruits. In baskets on the ground.

Around 6, day began to break. It was cloudy. With more light, the market became louder. People talking more. More bustling around.

shy fish lady

dried fish

two ladies selling offerings

(NB: when we first arrived, it was really quite dark. Any photo I would have taken then I would have had to use a flash and the place was just too peaceful to violate with a flash. I waited for some light to appear in the sky before shooting.)

entrance to the market, in daylight

We stopped at a stand to get a taste of the nasi campur. ‘Light on the chilies’ we told the lady as she wrapped up the rice, with a pinch of spicy noodles, half an egg, some veggies all in a paper cone. On the way out of the market we bought two little pastes to have with the rice. One chicken and one fish cooked in banana leaf. This breakfast, enough for two came to a grand total of 21 euro cents.

breakfast paste man

We didn’t see another westerner the whole time we were there.

We got back to the hotel in time to see the end of the sunrise above the bay of Sanur (along with an amazing number of Japanese tourists- all decorated with cameras and decked out with paraphernalia). Another world.

tuna and raw beet with 2003 Magnien

Inspired while doing the Saturday morning marketing.

Tuna belly: the kobe beef of the sea. Fatty. Tender. Complex. Meaty. With the bitter tendency of red meat.

Looking at fresh produce at the Organic Market Boulevard des Batignoles (Paris XVII), I saw a bunch of raw beets which inspired me.  Surprising aromas of dried earth and flavors of red fruits. And iron, like something bloody. Almost tannic. Some of the same aromatic profile  as some red wines. The kind of wine that would go well with tuna.

So I grated the beets and lightly tossed them in (about a teaspoon) of lime juice and twice as much olive oil with salt, white pepper and nutmeg.

I flip-flopped the Tuna belly. In SPL lingo that means sear the tuna very briefly on one side, flip it over and do the same thing to the other side and pull it out. We want the tuna to remain moist and almost rare. Salt and pepper on fish for cooking, nutmeg after the cooking.

The beet could actually replace wine with the elements that it brings. In fact, beet root is a flavor and aroma that can be found in some  fine young wines.

But we wanted wine…

Frederic Magnien 2003 Chambolle Musigny 1er Cru Les Baudes. We chilled it down a little so that it would express its fruit more. Red and blue berries of all kinds. Some fresh, some as jam. Concentrated. Pepper. And some meatiness. It sang in perfect harmony with the beets, hitting on some of the same flavors and aromatics, and spiciness of the wine (2003 is a hot vintage that made for spices in red burgundies that resemble the spiciness of red Rhône wines) married well with the complex Balinese white pepper and nutmeg.  

spoon of the moment: tuna and raw beet

 

 

asparagus, foie gras and lime rind

I don’t usually think of serving foie gras in the summer time. It seems a little rich for summer blood.

Rich because of the creamy texture and inherent fattiness. Fattiness tends to have a slight sweetness to it (think fresh butter, or oil). That’s the ‘gras’.

All animal livers have some sort of bitterness to them. That is the ‘foie’.

Great foie gras must strike a perfect balance between that those two: bitterness and sweetness.

So how to lighten up foie gras for summer?

Steamed asparagus, chopped and lightly tossed in a little olive oil with lime juice. A sprinkle of salt and white pepper.

In a spoon, a few bits of asparagus with a cube of foie gras on top. And then grated lime zest on the spoon for electricity.

This combination has the bitterness (from the asparagus and lime rind) and the energy (from the citric of the lime rind) to lift the foie gras into summer mode.

We served with 1997 Demoiselle de Sociando Mallet. Not highly rated because considered light, 1997 was a cool-ish vintage in Bordeaux (contrary to the hot vintage it was in Burgundy). Sociando is particularly strong in off vintages and this certainly did not taste like an off vintage Bordeaux. For a 12 year  second wine this Demoiselle was downright fabulous.

The tannic structure of the wine and the spices that come with aged Medoc (pepper, cedar closet, dried pine forest floor) went perfectly with the energy of the dish. The tannins and spice echo the bitterness of the ‘foie’, asparagus and lime zest and oppose (cut through) the fattiness of the ‘gras’.

a 'special' plate of babi guling

Ubud. Across the street from the Royal Palace. Ibu Oka (i.e. mama oka’s place) This place is hopping. Locals and tourists rub shoulders to get a piece of this famous roast suckling pig. Open around 11AM and they close when they run out of pigs. That can be anywhere between two and five PM. Better get there early.

The pigs arrive one by one. Carried on strong men’s heads.

babi guling arriving

When I see this, I’m glad we’re not in Europe at this point; the sanitary guys in Brussels would probably close this place faster than you can blink an eye. But that’s what gives this place its charm. A little bit of this local air can add nothing but spice to life.

Then it is the ladies, maybe even Ibu Oka herself, who are in the open air/make shift ‘kitchen’ cutting up the pig, and serving the plates.

bussling kitchen

The locals eat with their right hand. But for us visitors, they’ve graciously accepted that we use forks.

perch where you can...

The place is so packed that you might think the waitress has forgotten about you. But remember that you’re in Bali, so relax. Just soak up the ambience and relax, she will get to you.

The ‘special’ plate gets you a little bit of everything: meat, crispy skin, a little bit of sausage, a touch of blood sausage which is also spicy, rice and a little veggies. Oh and some of that spicy signature gravy!

One plate is a full meal for one person. But we met a hard-core fan who had two plates just for himself!

We wanted to try the veggie dish (sayur). Green beans and spicy sauce with enough chilies to get your eyes watering….a little too many for me. But if you have a little rice on the side to calm things down in your mouth, the flavors are electric.

spicy veggies

A little bit of Bintang local beer washes everything down, and cools you off.

For a concentrated example of authentic local color, spice, and bustling exoticism, this is a must visit. 

dog waiting for a bite

summer bulot bites

I started thinking about it as I was walking through the organic market Marché Bio of Boulevard des Battignolles in the 17^th arrondissment in Paris: I wanted to make a bulots sandwich. The more I thought about it, the hungrier I got.

I’d never had one before.

I had some bulots in the fridge left over from a tasting I had done the day before, serving only a slight derivation from tradition. In France, when you order bulots, especially in a brasserie or fish restaurant, they are usually served cold, in their shell with mayonnaise. I like to add a little tarragon (or even basil) to spice it up. I had served it with a 2007 Sauvignon de Touraine Oneiros from Domaine Sauvète. This was for some friends as an aperitif.

Bulots are apparently known as whelk in American, although I have never had them outside of Europe. They are like sea snails. But apart from their appearance, they don’t really resemble land snails. Snails are very distinctly earthy, almost dried leafy, dark meat beasts. Bulots are more like white meat and they are very sea-sigatured, from salt but also somewhat like a certain clam flavors but a little less ‘fishy’.

So in my dreams, a bulot sandwich would be sort of like a glorified chicken sandwich. Perfect for summer. On baguette bread, I spread a thin film of mayonnaise. Then I put some rocket leaves and a ripe summer tomato. A little bit of pepper, but go easy on the salt, the bulots tend to retain some of their sea salt so there is usually no need to add any. After removing the bulots from their shell, detaching the sticker-like cartilage that is at the top of the bulot and I rinse them thoroughly to remove any sand or shell. Then I toss them with some mayonnaise and place them on the top of my sandwich. And to top everything off, a generous sprig of tarragon (or basil).

The taste result corresponded rather accurately to my dream of this sandwich. The salty meatiness of the bulots creamed up with a little mayo, tomato for freshness and tarragon, rocket and pepper for spice. The only thing I’d recommend is to make these bite sized. The bulots start falling all over the place if you have anything bigger than a bite making it difficult to eat.

I think the sauvignon from Sauvète would go well here too, even if by adding tomato and rocket we have brought more bitterness into the equation. Maybe light red like a Beaujolais or a Gamay from the Loire.  Even a mineral rosé from Sancerre would be great, amplifying the summer feel of this sandwich. 

taragon is an important ingredient for complexity

The vines were flowering in Burgundy and Beaujolais last week….

Photos taken in the old vines of Meursault l’Ormeau behind Boyer Martenot.

 the terrace, you know what I mean?

Last day in Casa. I wanted to try the breakfast at Sqala. Close to our hotel, on the edge of the medina. Soak up some last rays of early morning Moroccan sun before heading to the airport.

I couldn’t believe how few tables were occupied at Sqala when we showed up at 9. There must have been only about 3 other tables of people who looked like businessmen having power breakfasts. Not something I think of as typically Moroccan.

Did I mention the terrace at Sqala? Simply a little piece of paradise. Sandwiched right there between the medina and the port. Sun light dancing on the leaves and in between them before falling on the tables and our faces. The sounds of water in the fountain. This place is a delight for all of the senses.

I asked the waiter to explain what some of the choices were. A lot of the words and names of dishes were things I had never heard of. I was trying to make sense of it all…

“Or you can have the breakfast assortment.” My eyes widened as he told me all the things that were included in the breakfast assortment.

“All of that?”

“Oui, c’est costaud.” (Yes, it’s massive.)

He was right. We got one for two and that ended up being more than enough.

The first thing to arrive was the cocktail “Ambassadeur”: a blend of milk, dates, almonds, and orange flower. Delicately aromatic. Not too sweet, but the sweetness of the dates served as a vehicle for the other aromas. The almonds kicked-in in the mid mouth and the length on the palate came from the orange flower.

the spread

Don’t ask me to name the individual Moroccan pancakes. Even tough I asked the waiter to repeat the names…it was too much for me to take in. There was one that was like a doughnut. One that tasted like it was made with cornflower. One that tasted like an American pancake. And one that tasted more like a French crepe. They were all fantastic. What struck me was that none of them were sweet. I liked that. The little assortment of condiments was provided to dress up the pancakes however I liked. Butter. Olive oil. Argan oil. Honey. Fig jam. Peanut butter. So I played with combinations. 

Mixed Moroccan crepes and doughnuts

The egg tajine was like scrambled eggs with some sort of dried, cured meet. It tasted a little like bacon, although all things considered, I doubt it was pork. Maybe beef or lamb.r It also had a delicate dusting of spices. 

don't forget the scrambled eggs tajine

We had tea too. Fresh mint and peppermint in those beautiful traditional teapots.  We requested to have it not too sweet. And then made sure not to let it infuse too long. Over infusing tea brings out bitterness to the detriment of aromatics.

An excellent breakfast. A sensual note on which to leave Casa. And hope to return before too long. 

  

 

 

beet root risotto

It was what we call bonus sunshine. Sun when everyone said it would rain.

The kind of day where you feel strange putting on a big coat. But after an hour’s tasting in a cool cellar, you’re really glad you kept the extra lining in your coat. It’s actually a tough season for tasting in Burgundy because the cellars are still so cold from the winter- especially this winter, which seemed interminable. But when you go back outside you are blinded by the light and have to peel off layers so that your blood won’t boil.

The kind of day that makes you want to sit out on a terrace for lunch. But if the wind picks up at all, you realize it’s still a little early. That’s early April in France for you.

I was running around Burgundy in an out of cellars with some Japanese. And in the Cote de Nuits, by far the best place for lunch is Le Castel de Tres Girard in Morey St Denis. Not to mention that the luncheon menu is an absolute steal. They actually have a terrace wherethey can serve lunch and dinner, but it was just a little too chilly.

Historically, they had a lot of ups and downs with their cuisine at the Castel. But now they have an incredible chef. He’s been there for less than a year but Franck Schmitt is perhaps the most creative and audacious chef in all of Burgundy today. His cooking times are perfect. His use of veggies and spice is wonderfully unique.

Nothing but nothing prepared me for this risotto. Certainly the most unique and audacious risotto I have ever had. And yet quite simple. Beetroot risotto with mange tout and cashew nuts. Serving a truly vegetarian dish as a main course in Burgundy is quite rare. Just having it on the menu is a mini revolution for Burgundy.

Besides the bubble gum hot pink color, the beetroot gave a sweetness and a delicate earthiness to the rice. The mange tout pea pods brought a hot green color, stark contrasts with the pink. But the pea pods were also bitter which balances out with the huge amount of Parmesan. In a traditional risotto, Parmesan can dominate the dish with its dry bitterness, but here it was not excessive. And the cashew nuts echoed the nuttiness of rice and Parmesan. Like full circle. Perfect harmony.

All of the bright colors and spring time veggies with sun beaming into the restaurant got me very excited about spring!

The rice was firm but not crunchy. What I consider perfect aldente (the way it feels under your teeth). Finding the right cooking time of the rice is essential, too, for a successful risotto. The more aldente the rice is cooked, the more bitterness in the rice. But for the balance with the other ingredients, a little bitterness from the rice is important. Too much bitterness, too undercooked, can ruin the dish. Too cooked and the rice is like mush, not enough for building a good risotto. Aldente is that perfect moment in between over cooked and not cooked enough.

The Japanese guy I was with ordered the risotto too. He was looking rather perplexed. When I asked what he thought of it, his interpreter told me ‘He doesn’t know if it is good or bad.” We laughed. Previous to our lunch, he had spent 7 days in Italy.

But I don’t think he left one grain of rice in his dish. Neither did I.

This risotto literally blew my mind. And made me think about risotto in a totally new way.

A number of years ago, I worked in the kitchen of the best restaurant in Rome, where for several months I was the risotto maker of the restaurant who happened to be known for having one of the best risottos in Italy.