We are still eating our way through Paris' (and the world's) best restaurants.
Le Chateaubriand is number 18 in the world. No Michelin stars here, this is the avant-garde of the bistronomy movement - relaxed and affordable (well, almost), multiple courses of small serves (degustation), fresh and local ingredients, very often sustainably produced and cooked simply.
I wish I could have photographed the kitchen. I had a fabulous sticky beak when I went to the toilet, but one doesn't take one's camera to the toilet, does one? However, I can tell you that there were nine people in the kitchen (not including wait and drinks staff on the floor, of whom there were five plus a maitre-d') in a space smaller than my pantry. So simplicity takes a lot of person power.
It is a fixed menu, different everyday, dependent on what is fresh at the market that day.
We arrived on the dot of 7.30 pm preceded only by two other tables.
Our charming maitre-de, a close relative of Al Pacino, emerging from the kitchen.
The first of the amuses-bouches, melt-in-the-mouth cheese and herb puffs - more like bread than pastry. This was followed by a mouthful of raw fish in a tomato and lime dressing.
Next, deep fried crevettes (tiny prawns) dusted with powdered tamarind.
Followed by the freshest, plumpest pippies (tiny clams) in a cream sauce flavoured, I'm guessing, with lemongrass.
And finally a bowl of clear broth something like dashi flavoured miso. And none of these were on the menu. These were the amuses-bouches, the mouth amusements.
First on the menu - slices of tiny, line caught mackerel with samphire, baby peas and baby broad beans.
My piece-de-resistance, cod in a fabulous sauce of grapefruit with asparagus and a dusting of something intense and crunchy on top. Absolutely delicious because I love fish.
The meat course. But it didn't look all that great.
Better when Paul rearranged the plate. This is fillet steak, barely heated through, topped with pan-seared pointed cabbage and dobs of kalamata puree. Topped with two large, crisp slices of thrice fried potato.
The palate cleanser was a sorbet of Sicilian lemon on a thick, marinated slice of cucumber. The delicious green, crunchy topping is made from the herb lovage.
Dessert - called A Hint of Sky. I was instructed by Al Pacino, "Do not bite eet , Madame! All een zee mooth, and ......" hand and facial gestures mimicking an explosion!
Paul exploding with his Hint of Sky. A raw egg yolk sitting on top of a little savoury/sweet meringue, on a pile of nutty toasted crumbs. Talk about imaginative - and it was great!
Because French restaurants are so small and tables so close, you can't help but meet people.
Our fellow diners turned out to be a lovely couple, David and Agathe. As it was Agathe's birthday, we shared Calvados to celebrate and to wish them good luck in their upcoming relocation to La Rochelle on the Atlantic coast, where Calvados is produced.
We hope to see them again when we eat our way up the French Atlantic Coast in October.
Not everyone was happy with the menu at Le Chateaubriand the night we were there. One quite irate man, with an American accent, was engaged in a yelling match with the chef out on the footpath as we left. And I could see during the course of the evening, that quite a few people didn't like the Asian flavoured dishes, and I have to say - they were different!
But different is fine - we absolutely loved many more dishes than we slightly disliked. So we are going back again at the end of the month to celebrate the end of our time in Paris.
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