France Diary: May 3 to May 22, 2023

Friday, we relaxed and prepared our suitcases for our departure the next day back to Paris. And we anxiously waited for our return to the village of Ventabren that evening for our Micheline star dinner.

We arrived at Dan B’s right when they opened at 7:45 and were immediately seated at the central window showing an astounding view of the River Arc Valley and the large Etang de Berre estuary far below, fed by both the ocean and two rivers. So we guessed that the menu would present a mixture of fresh and saltwater foods. A hard-bound menu was offered with what we were told was Chef Daniel Bessoudo’s menu for the night, with only the freshest ingredients available that week. We were told to choose from one of two menus; one offering a menu with fewer courses or one having more with an additional taste treat option of caviar added to either of them. Glancing down the list of diversified and mouth-watering options, how could we deprive ourselves of anything less than the longer menu with the added addition?

If I were to describe in detail each course, it would be six-pages long, which my final review was, so for this overview, I will only describe the meal in the briefest way I can, in half the amount of pages. We ordered an aperitif wine, but very quickly our first course was served. I will say now, that with each course, our food arrived in hand-made, unpretentious, and irregularly shaped ceramics and natural woods of all different shapes and sizes at each course, which formed a natural and organic platform from which the foods of sea, woodland, and farmland artfully blossomed. And with each change, fresh cutlery replaced the ones used before. Each course was delicious and we ate every bite. We missed getting a picture of the first course, but all the rest follow.

For the first course a small bowl nearly filled with tiny ice crystals was placed before us. Our server poured over it from a petite pitcher, a hot carrot and ginger soup that had small dandelion flower petals floating on top. The second course had a multiplicity of four separate bites on separate vessels, with a recommendation of what order they should be eaten.. First, a bowl partially filled with salt crystals held two oyster shells, one for each of us. Within, was a fresh oyster delicately covered with an oyster foam, and next to it a dollop of horseradish sorbet so mild that its natural pungent root flavor was only hinted at. Dish two held a deviled quail egg on top of a disk of octopus, which melted into the mouth. The third and plate held two different offerings. One was on a long-handled trumpet shell-like spoon, on which sat a puff pastry shell that held a small burst of piquant olive paste, and a crunchy shell, which held a thin pointed sliver of red pickled beet, standing upward like a boat’s sail with a small piece of fresh anchovy.

The third course was a frozen cube of saffron cream between two thin slices of steamed fennel bulb. The translucent long white tendrils of the fennel looked like wings. Small rounds of turnip, feathered dill and small peaks of saffron cream dotted the edges to form an artistic display. Another turnip round topped the saffron cube and all flowed outward when a warm orange fish bisque was poured over it, and then was sprinkled with flavored breadcrumbs.

The next vessel was a thick-edged bowl of wood, hollowed out in the center and dappled with a morsel assortment. There were bites of artichoke heart, sliced rounds of mushroom, a marinated baby onion and tomato, tiny florets of cauliflower and a white-fleshed raw fish so tender it melted in the mouth. On a side plate were two small stone cups that contained a smooth anchovy panna cotta with small bits of more fish on top. This was accented with wooden spoons which held halved pickled Brussels sprouts.

Our fifth course was served in two small bowls and a third plate. One bowl had chunks of the French blue Homarus gammarus lobster in a light broth. The second bowl held a beignet fritter with elderflower sprigs and dabs of lobster puree. On the plate were thick stems of purple asparagus that were topped by a lobster sabayon.

For our sixth progression a portion of monkfish was covered by a described blanquette de veau sauce. The fish took the place of veal. Over the fish lay two long-stemmed zucchini flowers. Between them was an almost translucent slice of heart of palm and a trimmed carrot with a partial green stem. Across them all lay a contrasting hearty green spear of asparagus.

In the seventh course there was a combination of fish, fowl, and ground vegetables. The offering was the French Pearl Guinea fowl on a splash of guinea au jus. It’s tender and moist dark meat was topped with a coffee-infused baby turnip along with a lettuce leaf stuffed with seasoned and sautéed minced garlic and onion. An excellent quality caviar was placed on top.

With the eighth course, we were presented with three stacked bowls. In one dish was a cigar-shaped chilled roll of fresh goat cheese with a sprinkling of crystal salt. In the second dish was a slice of richly baked bread, textured with nuts, and was a perfect base on which to spread the mouthwatering cheese. In the third dish were two smaller stone cup vessels. One held a local honey and the other a soft mixture of pecan praline with a few pecan pieces. We tried all combinations and were also offered a cup of sage-infused tea to finish off the course, sourced as our server informed us, from the restaurant’s own sage plants.

The next course was described as a pre-dessert. In the center of the dark plate was a perfect puff of white artichoke cream, dotted on the edges with three pearls of lemon cream and lemon zest. Snuggled over the white pillow was a quenelle of dark rich chocolate ice cream, topped with a dark cocoa chip.

The tenth course was the main dessert and the combination of fruit and vegetable on three different plates. The smallest plate had a small Breton cake on it, which had a dollop of lime green pea mousse on top. A half-teaspoon of bright red strawberry jam lay at its peak, and resting on top was a cooked half pea. The next shallow bowl was centered with an inverted dome of strawberry mousse over strawberry pieces that was fruitfully refreshing. The next slightly larger bowl was filled with a bed of fresh raw, bright green shelling peas, and resting on top were two ice cream bars on a popsicle stick. They turned out to be sweetened green pea ice cream, covered with a green pea, almond and white chocolate coating.

The eleventh and last course was a post dessert offering of three sweet bites. There was a pearl of lime gel set into a thick slice of dried and smoked banana, a moist chocolate Madeline, and a chip of melt in the mouth coffee merengue.

After three and one-quarter hours the meal came to an end. We were full, but not uncomfortably so. Our server asked if we wanted coffee, but it wasn’t desired, nor would we have wanted to alter even one of the flavors that lingered on our palates. Between the extraordinary food, the impeccable service and the amazing view, Dan B offered a truly remarkable and revelatory experience. We only wished that we lived in Provence in order to experience more of Chef Daniel Bessoudo’s seasonal imaginations.

We drove back to Aix in a light sprinkle and arrived back to the apartment without needing to open our umbrellas. We were still high from the pleasure and would not be able to sleep yet, so we both got on our laptops, and I began the review of the restaurant while the flavors were still fresh in my mind. We had so enjoyed Aix-en-Provence with its small-town feel, dancing fountains and art-filled museums. It had been a great experience.