AUTHOR: Dave McIntyre TITLE: My Chance Encounter with Joel Robuchon DATE: 10/30/2005 11:43:00 PM ----- BODY:
Some people gush over movie stars, rock musicians or, here in DC, powerful politicians. Me, I’m a sucker for anyone in a chef’s jacket. I’m proud to count a few of DC’s finest as friends and more as acquaintances, and if you get me in my cups I’ll be happy to tell you about the time I interviewed Alain Ducasse for The Washington Post. Well add a few more Michelin stars to my firmament – I met Joël Robuchon. I arrived in Las Vegas for my day job and headed for the MGM Grand, hoping to spend my free evening at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, the first US outpost of the man heralded by his publicists as “the best chef in the world.” The place was closed for a media event. Food writers from around the world were to be feted for two nights to celebrate the restaurant’s grand opening. I whipped out my business card, self-printed with Microsoft Publisher on medium-grade card stock from Office Depot, and explained to the pretty young thang at the hostess stand that she was in luck, for I had arrived by happenstance and would be quite content to squeeze into a corner and enjoy the meal and I really wouldn’t get in anyone's way, thank you very much. She wasn’t buying. The irony, the irony. So I returned 48 hours later, dusty from tromping around the desert all day and hoping to score a decent meal before hitting the redeye home, when I see the man himself standing in front of his restaurant with a suit and a younger chef. I drooled for a few minutes, then threw modesty to the wind and introduced myself. Monsieur Robuchon complimented me on my pathetic French and then introduced me to his copains (who turned out to be the VP of food and beverage for the hotel and Philippe Braun, the chef in charge of L’Atelier) as if I was a long-lost buddy from his days in the resistance. I said I was there to dine at L’Atelier as soon as the doors opened and let him go on his merry way. Shortly after 5:30 another cute young thang tried to shunt me into a corner, but my new friend Philippe guided me to the center seat around the U-shaped bar that is L’Atelier’s signature. This format was considered quite revolutionary in Paris and Tokyo when Robuchon came out of retirement a few years ago to offer “casual” cuisine, but the idea of diners watching their food being cooked and even interacting with the wait staff is not new to Americans. I felt like I was sitting at an expensive diner counter. Small plates are not new here either, though the wait staff kept explaining them as if they were. That said, I’ve never eaten so well at a diner or tapas bar. It was perhaps the best, and most expensive, meal of my life. I splurged on the menu degustation, a multicourse offering of small plates for $85, and gave Pascal Bolduc, the Quebec-born sommelier, carte blanche to match me some wines. (For some reason, the restaurant does not offer flights of wines matched to the tasting menu.) For the sautéed foie gras with a citrus and apple sauce, he offered an “ice cider” from Quebec called “Neige,” made from apples frozen on the tree like grapes on the vine for ice wine. I may go to my grave believing this was the ultimate food-wine pairing. I’ll spare you a blow-by-blow, bite-by-bite account of my meal, except to say foie gras made three appearances overall and I may be spoiled forever for salmon. One can eat less expensively at L’Atelier by picking and choosing among the small plates (full entrées are quite expensive) and showing restraint with the wines. And while the “casual” concept may seem old-hat to American diners, the cuisine Robuchon is not to be missed. (L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, Nev. There is also Joël Robuchon at The Mansion, which is really expensive and aims to recreate or reinvent Robuchon’s three-star cuisine. For more information, see www.mgmgrand.com .)
----- --------