A recurrent comment when eating out in France that I often hear from English and
American visitors is the lack of vegetables accompanying their meal. I
agree wholeheartedly. Rice, potatoes and pasta is NOT a vegetable
garnish. I might add that this somewhat sweeping comment above does not apply to the entire food industry of La Belle France, and the situation is improving, but dining out for a vegetarian will still be a problem for some time. But there is always an exception...
So here I am at La Chassagnette, renowned restaurant in the Camargue,
famed for its 4 acres of vegetable gardens, all under the watchful eye
of Chef Armand Arnal. And it is here that I found my vegetable Niravna. Now strictly speaking I have strayed from Provence, and will continue to do so but will always remain within reach so for the purists out there, fear not, I have not forsaken you.
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| The sign that reveals itself at the last second. |
To begin; coming from Arles follow the signs to
Le Sambuc. Approach slowly, the sign to the restaurant is visible at
the last minute, so if you have a large 4x4 on your tail as I did, a
sudden left turn can be fatal, for the back end of your car at least!
Once you have parked head on towards the restaurant, (the word
RESTAURANT is written on a post, you can't miss it). As you approach,
and if like me you enjoy a well kept vegetable garden, then you will
have probably already left the official path and will be wandering
amongst the rows of beans, peas, basil, arthichokes and the list goes
on.
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| The organic garden of La Chassagnette |
The garden is immaculate, and all organic as the encroaching, but
always held at bay weeds can certify. As I was on an official visit I got to
meet the head gardener with whom I talked tomatoes, quinces and basil,
and found that he and only three others managed this immense vegetable
plot. He was the first person I met and for me first impressions are
essential, and I liked this one. First of all he had time for idle chat
from a garden idiot like myself. Second, he was clearly passionate
about what he did, not just the part about growing nice veg, but you
immediately got the sense that he was part of what happened in the
kitchen. He explained that the choice of what was grown was the Chef's
and then he found new and interesting varieties as well. I told him of
a friend of mine that he should meet who was specialised in tomatoes
and had nearly 20 different varieties. He politely said that he would
love to meet him, and then added that he grew over 30 varieties
himself.
I admire diplomats.
My next encounter was Armand Arnal in person. The fact that he is
available is something that I appreciate. and he took the time to
listen to my "I am honoured to meet you" and "I have heard so much and
have always dreamed of eating here" as well as the standard name drop
"xxxx told me about your restaurant and so here I am" with a smile ( a
real one) and showed us to the reastaurant area. I could have visited
the kitchens, but having worked for long enough in the business I know
that in mid service having to stop to acknowledge "the visitor" is
rarely welcome, but I am sure they were lovely, clean and full of
vegetables awaiting their fate.
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| The view from our table |
Before I
continue, the rest of
this article will be lacking in my photos. For some reason, maybe a
childhood trauma, or not, I hate taking pictures of my food in
restaurants, also I am not a professionnal food photographer. Pictures will follow and will be those of the restaurant...
So now to the serious bit, the food. Well nearly, before the food we
were served the house cocktail. It was a fresh fruit juice
(strawberries for sure but I confess to having forgotten the rest) with
Champagne. Refreshing, not overly alchoholic and quite delicious.
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Nasturtium leaves, rocket, pine nuts...
a garden in your plate! |
So now the food. The menu was simple in its length and complex and
fascinating in its content. 80% of the food served comes from the
gardens, all the other produce is sourced locally, the fish from the
Grau du Roi, directly from the boats as they come in, the lamb from
nearby St Gilles and the duck from the neigbouring rice fields.
The
vegetables are the stars here, and the meat or fish is always at the
end of the course description, as if it was just an accompaniment,
which in a way it is.
My dining partner Julie and I made the standard pact of choosing
different dishes, and then dipping in to each others plate. If there
are four of you, you could order the entire menu. We started with an amuse bouche of
beetroot gaspachio with coriander oil and and redcurrents. The cold
garnet red soup dotted with the bright green oil, and a borage or star
flower in the centre was, like all the dishes to follow admired in
length. When I find myself faced with interesting foods such as these I
often try to imagine the taste before trying them. Here a sort of cold
borscht with a Thai influence was forming in my mind's taste buds. I
wasn't miles off, the soup was lighter and more refined than it's
Eastern European counterpart, with small cubes of beetroot adding
texture and redcurrents providing the occasional pop of acidity setting
off the discreet sweetness of the soup. The coriander oil gave it a soupçon of
eastern promise, without overpowering the dish as coriander can so
often do.
The Asian influence continued with my starter. Green beans and sweet
and sour pomelo with a gravlax of duck (the one from the local rice
fields) which I think had the salt replaced with a light soy sauce for
the marinade. Julie chose the cherries marinated in ginger and sesame
with grilled filets of red mullet. Both dishes were garnished with a
variety of leaves and flowers from the garden.
We followed this with me going for the fennel and cuttlefish, and herb
garnish with a perfectly poached filet of "Denti" which is Common
Dentex in English, a name that inspires toothpaste, so I would stick to
"a member of the Sea Bream familly" which is what it is. All of the above was
served with a rock fish bouillon. Julie chose the all vegetarian course
of courgette cannelloni, accompanied by mixed green vegetables and a
mint pesto.
There were two meat dishes to choose from, beetroot and chard with red
sage and roast pigeon, or an okonomiaki (a type of Japanese pancake
usually made with cabbage leaves as the main ingrediant) of black
cabage, charlotte potatoes and spring onions and nuggets of sautéed
local lamb in theur own jus.
Just a quick word on the drinks to accompany all this wonderful gourmet
vegetableness. An extensive wine list is of course available, with a
good supply of local offerings as one would expect. Armand Arnal's fascination with Japan
provides a somewhat original touch with a selection of Sakés to
accompany your meal if you choose. If like myself you are not an
afficianado of the Saké world, he has a option for a different Saké for
each course chosen for you. If water is all you require, then enjoy the
house's own water from their spring,
avec ou sans gaz.
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| The art of Armand Arnal |
Now to the desserts. Four were on offer, pan fried cherries with honey
suckle and sorrel creme brulée, a light cake made from rhubarb and Mara
des bois (a French variety of strawberry combining the taste of
woodland strawberries and the body of its cultivated cousins) served
with an elderberry sorbet, a confit of fennel with citrus fruit and a
cream cheese sorbet and a pea soufflé with a "hierba buena" sorbet. I
went for the soufflé and Julie for the fennel. We purposly chose what
seemed to be the least classic options, and I must admit I was
intrigued by the magnificent apparition of my green soufflé. With the
first spoonful I tasted only meringue, and then slowly at first and
gradually becoming more and more apparent the taste of peas, reminicent
of my chidhood pilferings in the family garden, came through. It seemed
that the pea flavour got stronger as you approached the centre of the
soufflé, and since I started on the side it worked beautifully. This
was set off with the "hierba buena" sorbet. Hierba Buena or litterally
Good Herb is a name given to a wide variety of mint plants found in the
Americas. This particular one was a minty citric combo. Julie's confit
of fennel reminded me a little of licourice and together with the
citrus fruit it offered a delightful fresh finish to this culinary
voyage of discovery through Chef Armand Arnal's organic vegetable garden and
his seemingly unending imagination.
