Troisgros is one of the great restaurants in the world. The combination of refined cooking, wine, flawless service and warm ambiance blend so seamlessly into a harmonious whole that nothing is ever out of place. Two weeks ago, I invited two dear friends to Troisgros to thank them for the many summers in which they hosted my son and tirelessly taught him to speak French like a native. Now at age fourteen, my boy can maneuver through the intricacies of the language without much trouble.
What follows are my impressions of an evening well-spent at Troisgros. There are no pictures and I will not describe every dish, although I have retained memories of every bite of every plate.
Expectations usually run high when one is about to dine at a three star in France. Expectations are heightened when two staff members stand outside the entrance and greet each person warmly. First impressions do matter. Before we are shown to our table, we are asked if we would like a tour of the kitchen. It is a beautiful kitchen, each cook working silently at his or her station. On one side of the kitchen large windows offer a view of the gardens where one can stroll and have an aperitif. Chef Michel Troisgros’ son is now in the kitchen, and he works silently as well while keeping an eye on all that transpires. The fourth generation of a Troisgros at the helm is assured.
We are shown to a corner table where we can see the kitchen as well as the dining room. It is a modern room, decorated tastefully with touches that exude warmth. We are given menus and I ask for the wine list. A waiter comes by and asks if we would like a glass of champagne. Previously, a champagne trolley was wheeled to the table and guests chose what they wanted to drink. On this evening, two bottles were brought to table, a Gosset rose and a magnum of Billecart brut. Two of us chose the Gosset, a full bodied wine with hints of strawberries.
The wine list is not as voluminous as I remember it to be. It is now a severely abridged version of a carte that once held many treasures at a good price. I study only the Burgundy list as it is what we wish to drink. Sadly, the Burgundies appear to have been picked over, as many of the offerings are from vintages from the early 2000s. The depth and breadth of vintages and producers that once made drinking Burgundy here an embarrassment of riches is no more. To be sure, one can still drink very well. White Burgundy is well represented by Coche and Raveneau, red Burgundy by great producers such as Rousseau, Roumier, DRC and Leroy. The oldest vintage of red Burgundy available is 1988. I do not see the Rousseau Chambertin or Clos de Beze from either 1991 or 1993 that we drank on previous visits.
We engage in conversation with Christian, one of two sommeliers on duty. He is a knowledgeable and an amiable fellow, and throughout the evening he comes by to pour and chat. As only two of us are drinking, I ask about the 1988 Meo Brulees. He describes the wine as elegant and concentrated, with a complex bouquet and a delicacy on the palate. He says it is now entering its arc of maturity and has shed much of its tannin, but still requires time to open. And indeed, he informs us it was made by Henri Jayer. Christian proudly informs us that every one of the 30,000 bottles in the cellar was moved only once - from producer to the cellars of Troisgros. I briefly entertain the 1993 Domaine Leroy Romanee St. Vivant, but at 1700 euros, it is an easy pass. The Meo it is.
Wine service at Troisgros is superb. It is clear they care about wine here, as every aspect of its service is impeccable. The Meo is decanted, and over the course of the evening, the wine fulfills its duty to please and to harmonize with the cuisine. As is often the case when a great bottle is ordered, the last glass is best.
The cuisine is not fussy or cutting edge. There are no foams, nothing molecular, no attempt to transform an ingredient, nor any gimmicks to engage (or detract) the diner’s attention. Instead, the cuisine is built on simplicity, clarity and intensity of flavor, texture, judicious use of acidity, and in a departure from classical French cuisine, incorporation of Japanese influences. Four amuses precede nine courses and ends with a plate of chocolates and other sweet bites. A cheese course is included, and one choose from some sixty cheeses, all in impeccable condition and served at just the right temperature and degree of ripeness.
Two dishes deserve mention. One of my friends does not eat meat, so the kitchen sent out a plate that was remarkable for its intensity of flavor and textural contrast. Thin slices of St. Pierre were quickly cooked and formed into flowers. Into each was inserted slices of black truffle, all of which sat on a truffle reduction that was so intense it perfumed the table. The delicacy of the St. Pierre contrasted with the crunch of black truffles, enhanced by the flavor of the reduction. Brilliant. And then there was the pigeon. The breast was coated in ground peanuts and cooked rare. Peanuts can have a strong taste, but here the peanuts were so mild that they served to highlight the taste of the pigeon while lending textural contrast. The tiny leg held a surprise. Whether one cut into the leg or held it with the fingers and bit into it, a squirt of mustard was released. The taste of pigeon and mustard? Brilliant!
The pacing of the dinner is leisurely, and can run at least four hours. There is only one seating, so the table belongs to the guests for the evening. Service is warm and engaging, and some of the younger staff have a sense of humor. They are delighted to engage in conversation without being obtrusive. There is no rigid formality here, and the entire experience is relaxing, as dining in any great restaurant should be. Long live Restaurant Troisgros!
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