I had a hard time knowing how to begin this review Ducasse sur Seine, mainly because it doesn’t quite seem like it knows what it wants to be. Purportedly a floating fine dining restaurant (with prices to match, at 105 euros for a three-course lunchtime prix fixe and 160 euros for the baseline four-course dinner), on a recent visit, I found the food fine but far from phenomenal, visually stunning but rather middle-of-the-road when it comes to flavors. But then I realized that that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Ducasse sur Seine, after all, is not a restaurant for lovers of gastronomic fare. It’s meant entirely for those with slightly less adventurous palates who still want to reap the benefits of a special occasion meal with an other-wordly view. And in that, it almost entirely succeeds.
Almost.
I reserved my recent lunch on this barge as all clients do, by booking and pre-paying online. We arrived at noon, having been informed the day before that a fairly full Seine meant that while we could still dine on the boat, we wouldn’t be setting sail, but rather remaining docked with a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower. (We will be invited to return this summer for Champagne and canapés to make up for it, a lovely gesture for those of us who live here but something I can only imagine would be disappointing for the tourists who make up, I’d wager, the majority of this restaurant’s clientele.)
The menu boasted three choices for each of the three courses, at least one of which was vegetarian. I nevertheless noted a bit of carelessness on the pretty printed menu, where English translations were almost certainly holdovers from previous iterations. A carafe of water being off the table, we ordered a bottle of still mineral water (10) and two 20-euro coupes of Champagne while we awaited our amuse-bouche.
The bite on the left was our first, and it proved highly disappointing. A round of watery butternut squash was served with a woefully underseasoned almond purée. (Underseasoning was par for the course on this journey, though luckily we had each been given our own little wooden saucer of flaky sea salt with which to adjust.) The bite on the right, a thyme-infused shortbread topped with Jerusalem artichoke, was far nicer, nutty and rich and wonderfully buttery.
Salted Bordier butter accompanied our disappointing bread service: an offering of multigrain bread or sourdough, the latter of which seemed stale, defrosted, or possibly both. The butter was good though.
Far tastier was this warm truffle and mushroom foam settled over a lovely mushroom duxelle.
Savory and tasty without being surprising or divisive, it seemed to me the true introduction to the meal that would follow.
The vegetarian main was a soft-boiled egg settled atop a pile of spinach swimming in a rich Comté and reduced vin jaune sauce. That tuile on top was far from just pretty: it boasted a lovely nutty flavor that complemented the richness of the sauce to a t. The egg was, unlike many oeufs mollets or parfaits I’ve encountered of late, perfectly cooked, with a runny yolk just barely set around the edges and a fully set white.
This pretty plate of raw, marinated mullet was doused with a passionfruit vinaigrette, edible flowers, nutty toasted wheat, and kumquat. It was, unfortunately, far more beautiful than it was delicious; the bitterness of the sauce seemed to compete with the brininess of the fish, and the entire thing wanted for a touch of sweetness or fruitiness to elevate it.
For once, the mains fared better: Pearlescent confit brill was served with both roasted and pickled cauliflower and black garlic and cauliflower purées. A briny fish stock-based sauce added richness and depth to the plate. I love when chefs get creative by making beige food beautiful, and this one succeeded in both the aesthetic and flavor realms.
This roasted Guinea fowl was s juicy and tender with lovely crispy skin and a deeply-flavored caper- and mustard-infused jus. I’m not a huge fan of cooked lettuces, so I was less conquered by the side of sucrine, but all in all, this was a pretty tasty dish – and definitely an approachable offering as far as fine dining plates are concerned.
The desserts were winners, starting with this Paris tout chocolat, an entremets of chocolate in multiple textures all crowned with a line of smooth, rich praliné. A beautiful swirl of coffee ice cream provided a welcome bitter note.
I’ve not often seen coffee paired with pear, but this dish had me wholly convinced by the marriage, with an exploration of pear in raw, confit, and brûléed forms atop coffee cascara cream and served with both coffee and pear ice creams. The latter was a bit bland, but the former was a lovely match for the sweet, floral pear.
Mignardises were very middle-of-the-road, with only the chocolate tartlet – infused wonderfully with gingerbread spice – providing much by way of surprise. The wedge of apple was bright and fresh, as was the lemon gel on top, but I wasn’t convinced by the pairing.
And this little bite of ripe pineapple, despite its green garnishes, tasted like nothing more or less than itself.
Alain Ducasse doesn’t take many risks at his floating restaurant, but I think that’s OK. All the better to appeal to the sort of crowd looking to dine on the water. Vegetarians will be happy, and so will picky eaters. If you’re a frequent flier at fine dining restaurants, there’s little to surprise or enthrall in the plates here, but at the end of the day, if you’re here for the view, there’s little to distract you either.
Ducasse sur Seine – 19, Port Debilly, 75116