The menu we tasted led to a discussion of words and regional nomenclature. We learned about choosing products with merciless discrimination, and the art of bringing out the very quintessence of a little chestnut.

Alain Dutournier says, "Each of my dishes is a small distillation of happiness, inventiveness and tradition. If tradition is my first source of inspiration, the simple idea of bringing you happiness is certainly the second."

We've sampled for you…

Chestnut Cappuccino, Pheasant-Hen Broth Lightly Thickened with Chestnuts and Freshly-Grated Alba Truffles
It's once again time for the year-end meeting of three seasonal products that present a rich harmony of flavours and colours. Chestnut soup was once very common in France. I first enriched it with broth from a pheasant hen. The result, though all right, was too discreet. Chestnuts, in fact, always need something to enliven them. I then tried the velouté with a little green Ceylon cardamom added at the last minute. A stay in Piedmont had introduced me to the different varieties of white truffles from Alba, and the union came together in my head. When I returned, I immediately put together this triple alliance.

 

Marennes Oysters "Chaud-Froid" with Sea Water Aspic and Foie Gras Toasts
Oysters meet oysters… Alain Dutournier pairs raw oysters with cooked oysters, which many customers dread, he says. "That's a mistake, since in my opinion a plump cooked oyster takes on additional flavours." Depending on their origin, the variety and how they are raised, oysters offer an immense range of tastes, from total blandness to mouthwatering delight.

"For this recipe, I use the exceptional 'special' oysters from Gillardeau (Marennes Oléron oysters), very plump, with lots of character and a hint of hazelnut taste, which are perfect for all kinds of uses. I have tried to take them to new heights by cooking them with a little white wine and shallot, and a touch of cream to bind them. We make a purée of cooked oyster, onto which we place a raw oyster and some sea water aspic.

Though I appreciate great farm butter, I'm not convinced that, on bread, it makes the ideal partner for oysters. I don't hesitate to substitute a few little pieces of foie gras on crispy tartines." All for our greater enjoyment!

Pour Monsieur - Woodpigeon Pâté with Foie Gras and Cornbread Toast
The woodpigeon pâté en croûte is an exercise in style. For Alain Dutournier, pâté means pâte, pastry: thus a nicely browned flaky crust. We asked him for his secret.

"For a long time I looked for moulds to make pâtés like they used to make in my childhood. Woodpigeon - what we call palombe in French - is a wild pigeon hunted in our regions. It is cut up with a knife and placed onto the pastry. Foie gras constitutes the fat, along with a little pork jowl, aged ham, pistachios and seasoning. Instead of making a pâté that is cooked directly in the pastry, I do a preliminary vacuum cooking in a stainless steel ring and I let it cool. I recuperate the exuded juices and gelatin from the meats, along with the additional fat if there is any, and the meat remains moist since I cook it all at a low temperature. Once cooled, I enclose my ingredients in pastry and re-cook it. The pastry stays crisp and isn't soaked by the cooking juices. That's the whole trick! Once it comes out of the oven, we pour the natural meat jelly into a vent in the top."

Pour Madame - Raw Marinated Scallops with White Alba Truffles and a Cumin Galette
This starter, with its strongly mineral flavours, pairs wonderfully with an old Riesling that matches its hydrocarbon-like notes. It started out as a salad of truffles and arugula, but I found I had to add a fairly neutral, delicate and slightly fruity ingredient in order to round out the presentation and make it more "digestible" to customers. So the scallops, simply sprinkled with a few drops of hazelnut oil, are tossed in along with a slightly metallic, coppery salad green: arugula. A bit of artichoke picks up on these same notes, a little bread crumb, some crushed truffle, some aged Parmesan underneath, a few nice slices of white truffle - whose intensity is surprising - some cumin seeds sprinkled around, accompanied by a little cumin-flavoured galette in the middle… and there you have a first course about which much could be written.

Pour Monsieur - Jerusalem Artichoke Cake with Foie Gras and Truffle
Jerusalem artichoke is finely sliced, garnished with foie gras, warm foie gras vinaigrette and black truffles, grated at the moment of serving.

Though the Jerusalem artichoke is often classed together with forgotten vegetables, the reality is very different. Synonymous with an entire generation, this Second World War vegetable is often confused in people's minds with rutabaga, though it is much more flavourful. The problem is that it was too often boiled in water with little seasoning. In southwestern France, it's much different. And in its transition from the Southwest to my kitchen, it so happened that I replaced the butter with foie gras, and the pepper with truffle. The flesh of the Jerusalem artichoke is reminiscent of an artichoke heart, though less aggressive and, unlike the artichoke, compatible with wine. I'll explain: artichokes are very dangerous for wine since they can distort its taste, but Jerusalem artichokes do not have this effect.

This idea came to me one Sunday during a meal with friends. Duck bouillon, slices of Jerusalem artichoke which I stacked like a pie, all steamed in a couscous cooker with some foie gras and truffles, creating a beautiful amalgam.

Pour Madame - Roasted Langoustine with Chili, Pepper Nougatine and Muscat Reduction, with a Langoustine and Coral Fritter
We Atlantic people - I come from a village 30 km from the ocean - really like spider crabs, but for me, the best shellfish is the langoustine, or Dublin Bay prawn. In my opinion the langoustine is the queen of crustaceans. Having a good understanding of its flavour and texture, as well as its fragility in cooking, I came up with the idea of roasting it in the oven, using its coral in frying its pincers, and playing with Espelette chili, Muscat wine and green onion.

I wanted to make a little nod towards Asia. I really like what is in the heads of the langoustines - the stuff that people never eat because they don't want to get their fingers dirty or because they don't know about it - and so I save this extraordinary coral. With langoustine tails that are not very firm, I make a stuffing to prepare the fried pincers. I thought about this for a long time since I didn't want to use any crème fraîche in it. Where I come from, it is not our tradition to bind things using milk or cream… so everything is "glued together" using a little egg white and yeast. I didn't want to fall into the trap of making a mousseline. I had a Vietnamese friend taste it - he laughed and said, "You make that like we do at home; we often use yeast as a binder." I should also add that yeast is a sterilizer so it promotes the langoustine's delicate flavour.

Then the langoustine is shelled, and then returned to its shell, so it is back in its element, served with a fried pincer, a little jus flavoured with Muscat de Rivesaltes, and a broth flavoured with langoustine, chicken stock and green onion (beloved in the southwest.)

To end the journey on an exotic note, I wanted to experiment with garlic, creating a garlic nougatine with crushed almonds, butter and a little sugar; I add some crushed peppercorns and pieces of fresh ginger to it. I tried to achieve a crispy texture, individualized by the garlic, but easy to digest, taking my inspiration from Chinese wisdom which always balances members of the onion and garlic family with ginger: yin and yang.

The garlic is chopped, rinsed and blanched. We never use crushed garlic with its bad-smelling yellow juice, nor do we use onion that has not been rinsed and finely chopped -it's aggressive and indigestible. My garlic has been blanched in milk and dried. The combination of garlic and ginger comes from a very ancient Chinese principle: wherever there is a little garlic, there is also always ginger to aid in assimilating and digesting the garlic.

 

Pyrenees Suckling Lamb Roasted on the Bone with a Basil Crust
Then we moved on to suckling lamb, perfectly in season, with its little kidney, completely unique and different from veal kidneys and every other kinds of kidney. As well, with suckling lamb the meat is cooked. Though leg of lamb and other cuts may be eaten rare, suckling lamb should be cooked like poultry. A few mushrooms cooked until they are wilted, and that's it.

Milk-fed or suckling lamb is lamb that has never grazed, unlike a grass-fed animal. It has always been fed solely on its mother's milk, giving it its white and exceptionally-flavoured meat. In the southwest of France, milk-fed lamb was not eaten until Easter. It was served for the Easter Sunday midday meal. In the morning we would have an omelet with little fish from the streams, and then at noon it was roast lamb with a watercress salad.

Unfortunately, there are only two kidneys per lamb, and they're tiny… but so good!

 

Light Coupe of Lychees, Rose Petal Jelly, Lychee Granita and Crispy Vermicelli
Orange flower water, rose water, fragrant fruits, certain flowers and eastern spices have always haunted my pastry-making dreams. As a young professional I had perfected a winter dessert based on the dried fruits we usually call "les mendiants" - the beggars: almonds, figs, hazelnuts and raisins, to which I added our beloved prunes and a few dried apricots, all cooked slowly in a syrupy juice flavoured with cinnamon, lemon zest and Sauternes wine. During a recent stay in Istanbul, I was very surprised to discover that figuring among the rich Turkish culinary heritage is a recipe for a dessert called "achuré," which is reminiscent of my "soupe de mendiants." This traditional dish, with roots in Shi'ite ritual, is always served and shared generously during family occasions. Some say that it was invented by the survivors of Noah's ark who celebrated their deliverance by using the various fruits and grains they found in the boat's hold.

When I came back, I took another look at my recipe, adding pistachios, pomegranate, pinenuts, rose water…. My compote suddenly took on a much more eastern allure.

 

Candied Dates served with a Ginger and Saffron Ivory Parfait and a Little Limoncello-Flavoured Baba
Unfortunately dates are often synonymous with a sticky, gluey, blackish, starchy product - but it's like any product. There are no less than 200 varieties of dates, to which we must add different growing regions, all providing varying flavours and textures. My own particular favourite tends to the Deglet En-Nour variety, dates which come from Tunisia, and more precisely from the Nefta Oasis, where I believe the best dates in the world grow. When raw, they are almost transparent and you can see the stone. They have natural flavours of old rum, vanilla and orange flower. They have nothing in common with ordinary dates.

I had fun cooking them. I candied them at a low temperature, very slowly, and surprisingly with a few drops of very mild Tuscan olive oil which produces a slightly syrupy juice. On my menu I offer a date mousse pyramid, with dates in the centre.