We all know Joel Robuchon is a household name; the legend he was lives on today. As time passes swiftly, we would like to think that even when his legacy enters a new world, the cookery and spectacle are still present. My past visits consist of multiple sites across the globe: Paris, London, Las Vegas, to name a few. I am not new to the menus, the concepts and, of course, the pomme purée of dreams. I know it like the back of my hand, having flashbacks of the chef in Paris frantically tending to that potato like his life depended on it. Unfortunately, the site in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, which I used to frequent a lot (L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon), no longer holds two stars and has faded into the distance. I was hoping we were not going to sigh with disappointment here in Hong Kong, because you do not know how it is going to pan out generally after a grand chef passes. This can bring a negative, rippling domino effect.
The restaurant has undergone a huge refurbishment, opening its doors to the public in The Landmark. I happened to be here when they did the big reveal, visiting over two consecutive nights. My story focuses on the first night, and I will make some comments about the second as well. One thing I will say is this: it is important that the chef who is in charge is still cooking and present in the kitchen, and luckily Chef Julien was there, right in front of my very eyes. I can’t stress this enough. Gordon Ramsay can convince us all he wants; I have no doubt that he still classes himself as a chef, and the passion floods out of him, but the fact is he isn’t cooking day in and day out in one place. Anyway… let’s try to focus on this story, shall we? There was an undeniable stark difference between the first visit and the second.
The black and red sultry, sleek colour scheme has not gone anywhere, neither has the countertop seating. As I perched on my bar stool, ready for the culinary theatre to unfold, there was something very nostalgic that washed over me, not having eaten here in such a long time. I smiled inside and out when the infamous breadbasket bonanza was placed onto the bar. (No problems with not having any bread here!) This is one way to tell us who you are and invite us to indulge very early on.
You might already know by now (if you have been reading some other stories) that à la carte is my preferred way to dine and, in my opinion, the only way to eat for people who appreciate how to eat. We decided to pick several options; that way we could monitor the hunger level and keep adding as we saw fit—total control, total freedom. Instantly, it all came flooding back, the iconic execution, the familiarity, proving that these dishes and this way have not become old and stale. It was a renewed introduction, like it was my first time all over again. And luckily for me, it was because of the chef being present, one hundred per cent.
Every piped dot, every garnish, every single element in its place. What was striking to me was the frites with the JR sliders. I took one out of its bowl and held it up to my eyes. “Look at this,” I exclaimed, analysing the thickness and texture, completely in awe. Meticulously cut, fried, served and seasoned to the point. And don’t get me started about le burger… This is why perfected classic dishes will never die. Chef Olivier at Clarence ought to come and take some notes and improve on his rather average version… That, my friends, is how you get two stars.
Briefly going into the next evening, I had a feeling the kitchen was left to its own devices. No sign of the chef, nor the same sense of urgency; the presentation was poorer, the dessert felt flat, with nothing at the same level as the night before. Someone had popped a pin into the balloon, and that balloon was me, air gone, deflated. Such a shame. I would not say it was awful, but the standard from one night to the next had significantly dropped. Would it be enough not to return? Maybe not, but that very first experience, I will hold onto it, because this is the true essence of Robuchon. I might have to stalk the chef and take a trip to Macau, because he gave me a night that meant something, one that I won’t forget any time soon.
