StoryWorth: Guy Savoy
What is the best meal you've ever had?
I have had a lot of wonderful meals and several spectacular ones and have cooked a few showstoppers, though I have the advantage of being able to make food exactly to my own taste. I’m not sure anything will ever equal the taste of my mother’s fried chicken with rice and gravy and there are few things as perfect in this world as a really good grilled cheese sandwich and there are times that I would pay any money for Mary’s suan la chow show or the duck with winter greens from Y Ming. I love to eat and to dine-different things, both beautiful-and it’s really all about the moment.
But one of the most special meals I’ve enjoyed was at Guy Savoy Paris, on Jason’s 29th birthday. Here’s how I described it at the time:
Located on a side street north of the Arc de Triomphe (though it has since moved) Guy Savoy is an easy place to miss, with its sliding door looking like a wall of wood and glass. Inside is a secluded, modern dining room with lots of wood and metal. While lovely, it felt somewhat sterile to me, like the executive dining room of a very high end law firm.
The meal that followed was just incredible, characterized by bold combinations of flavors used to create remarkably subtle overall effects. We began with a glass of champagne. First we were handed an amuse bouche of a small crostini with a slice of duck liver pate. That was followed by a bite of a watermelon and radish confection. Then we were brought a plate with one bite each of a lovely marinated and grilled tuna, a skewer of tomato and squid, and a tiny bowl of carrot soup with star anise. Neither of us generally enjoy anise, but the flavors combined so perfectly that we were both quite impressed.
Somewhere amid all this showing off by the chef, we got to order. We declined the E170 tasting menu and went a la carte instead. Jason ordered the grilled mussels with morel mushrooms in a light butter sauce and I asked for the house specialty of cream of artichoke soup with shaved black truffles and parmesan cheese with a mushroom-stuffed brioche with truffle butter on the side. We were therefore surprised when our waiter brought two portions of the mussels. I explained the mistake and he apologized, left the mussels with us and brought us each a half portion of the soup as our next course.
With our first courses, we were enjoying the sommelier’s recommendation of a half bottle of Meursault, a white varietal unfamiliar to us, but destined to become quite a favorite. With our mains, we split another half bottle, this one of Bordeaux. I was starting to write down the names when the sommelier offered us the labels, which he brought us in a Guy Savoy souvenir folder that we will add to our memorabilia to remind us of a fabulous gustatory experience.
For mains, Jason had a lovely roast lamb, carved tableside, over greens with tiny hunks of bacon, with a cheesy spinach and mushroom side dish. Mine was pigeon, poached to keep in the juices and then grilled to crisp the skin, served with pureed peas and spinach and drizzled with a sherry vinaigrette. On the side I was brought the pigeon gizzards in a napoleon (layers) of beet chips.
After those were cleared away and we declined the cheese course, they brought us a plate of petit fours, including a sliver of chocolate with a square of gelatin topped with currant, a berry meringue filled with berry mousse, a vanilla pastry shell filled with something creamy, and a candied fruit (one of those things that looks like a tomatillo, but is sweet-or so other people tell me; I find them so sour they send shivers down my spine, although that reaction was mitigated by the caramelized sugar coating this one), each one bite-sized. They also handed us a small caramel crisp encrusted with macadamia nuts and pink praline. For dessert (no, that wasn’t dessert, apparently) we split a millefeuille, layers of puff pastry filled with a vanilla cream, with just a few strawberries, currants and raspberries on the side. We declined coffee, protested that we were really quite finished and asked for the check. Before we could have that, they brought us two more small bites (which our waiter very sternly told us would help our digestion), one of Earl Grey sorbet (which was a revelation to Jason-he was close to tears) and a tiny sliver of apple tart. Whether it was those, or just the impeccable balance of the meal, we were both surprised to find ourselves only pleasantly full, not bloated at all.
________________
It is funny and a little humbling to me now how very little we understood about this level of dining, the gauche mistakes we made, and the opportunities lost. But the staff were very kind to us and we have learned so much since then, but that meal still stands out. A few years ago we were excited to try Guy Savoy’s new establishment in Las Vegas and terribly disappointed by the experience. Perhaps we will return to Paris one of these days…
This entry was originally posted at https://lillibet.dreamwidth.org/1313366.html. You can comment either place! There are
comments over there now.
I have had a lot of wonderful meals and several spectacular ones and have cooked a few showstoppers, though I have the advantage of being able to make food exactly to my own taste. I’m not sure anything will ever equal the taste of my mother’s fried chicken with rice and gravy and there are few things as perfect in this world as a really good grilled cheese sandwich and there are times that I would pay any money for Mary’s suan la chow show or the duck with winter greens from Y Ming. I love to eat and to dine-different things, both beautiful-and it’s really all about the moment.
But one of the most special meals I’ve enjoyed was at Guy Savoy Paris, on Jason’s 29th birthday. Here’s how I described it at the time:
Located on a side street north of the Arc de Triomphe (though it has since moved) Guy Savoy is an easy place to miss, with its sliding door looking like a wall of wood and glass. Inside is a secluded, modern dining room with lots of wood and metal. While lovely, it felt somewhat sterile to me, like the executive dining room of a very high end law firm.
The meal that followed was just incredible, characterized by bold combinations of flavors used to create remarkably subtle overall effects. We began with a glass of champagne. First we were handed an amuse bouche of a small crostini with a slice of duck liver pate. That was followed by a bite of a watermelon and radish confection. Then we were brought a plate with one bite each of a lovely marinated and grilled tuna, a skewer of tomato and squid, and a tiny bowl of carrot soup with star anise. Neither of us generally enjoy anise, but the flavors combined so perfectly that we were both quite impressed.
Somewhere amid all this showing off by the chef, we got to order. We declined the E170 tasting menu and went a la carte instead. Jason ordered the grilled mussels with morel mushrooms in a light butter sauce and I asked for the house specialty of cream of artichoke soup with shaved black truffles and parmesan cheese with a mushroom-stuffed brioche with truffle butter on the side. We were therefore surprised when our waiter brought two portions of the mussels. I explained the mistake and he apologized, left the mussels with us and brought us each a half portion of the soup as our next course.
With our first courses, we were enjoying the sommelier’s recommendation of a half bottle of Meursault, a white varietal unfamiliar to us, but destined to become quite a favorite. With our mains, we split another half bottle, this one of Bordeaux. I was starting to write down the names when the sommelier offered us the labels, which he brought us in a Guy Savoy souvenir folder that we will add to our memorabilia to remind us of a fabulous gustatory experience.
For mains, Jason had a lovely roast lamb, carved tableside, over greens with tiny hunks of bacon, with a cheesy spinach and mushroom side dish. Mine was pigeon, poached to keep in the juices and then grilled to crisp the skin, served with pureed peas and spinach and drizzled with a sherry vinaigrette. On the side I was brought the pigeon gizzards in a napoleon (layers) of beet chips.
After those were cleared away and we declined the cheese course, they brought us a plate of petit fours, including a sliver of chocolate with a square of gelatin topped with currant, a berry meringue filled with berry mousse, a vanilla pastry shell filled with something creamy, and a candied fruit (one of those things that looks like a tomatillo, but is sweet-or so other people tell me; I find them so sour they send shivers down my spine, although that reaction was mitigated by the caramelized sugar coating this one), each one bite-sized. They also handed us a small caramel crisp encrusted with macadamia nuts and pink praline. For dessert (no, that wasn’t dessert, apparently) we split a millefeuille, layers of puff pastry filled with a vanilla cream, with just a few strawberries, currants and raspberries on the side. We declined coffee, protested that we were really quite finished and asked for the check. Before we could have that, they brought us two more small bites (which our waiter very sternly told us would help our digestion), one of Earl Grey sorbet (which was a revelation to Jason-he was close to tears) and a tiny sliver of apple tart. Whether it was those, or just the impeccable balance of the meal, we were both surprised to find ourselves only pleasantly full, not bloated at all.
________________
It is funny and a little humbling to me now how very little we understood about this level of dining, the gauche mistakes we made, and the opportunities lost. But the staff were very kind to us and we have learned so much since then, but that meal still stands out. A few years ago we were excited to try Guy Savoy’s new establishment in Las Vegas and terribly disappointed by the experience. Perhaps we will return to Paris one of these days…
This entry was originally posted at https://lillibet.dreamwidth.org/1313366.html. You can comment either place! There are
comments over there now.