I’ve visited Le Grand Bain in many iterations, and while none has yet held a candle to how much I loved it when Ed Delling-Williams was there, I’m definitely intrigued by the dishes I tried now that the kitchen is under the direction of Toms Berzins.
I mean, would you take a look at that menu? Some of those combinations look like someone was throwing darts at a list of ingredients and bunged the results together to see if it would work. (I’ve still got FOMO about that monkfish dish with roasted peach and courgette flowers stuffed with boudin noir and served with tom yum broth…)
As for what we actually ordered? I quite liked the porcini mushroom tempura (15) served on a base of stracciatella cheese. It was seasoned with wild Palestinian za’atar, black garlic, and hazelnuts, for an overall dish that was nicely herbaceous and not too rich, considering it paired cheese and fried mushrooms. Importantly, the garlic didn’t overpower the rest of the elements, but rather provided a sweet, allium background, uniting everything wonderfully.
That said, I preferred the other mushroom dish we ordered. Oyster mushrooms (15) were paired here with a Roscoff onion marmalade, which lent a lovely note of sweetness to the earthy pleurotes. Wild blueberries were studded throughout, and a generous rye bread crumble added texture and depth. And the smoked egg yolk smiley face that has become Berzins’ signature was both playful and delicious.
I was less impressed by the meat offering we tried, a grilled lamb saddle with chanterelle pesto, butter beans, quail’s leg, green onion, and foie gras sauce (21). The lamb itself was fatty and a bit tough, and the quail’s leg was incredibly difficult to share. Overall, the elements felt a bit mismatched, and somehow, the foie gras sauce got lost in the melee. I was most impressed by the vegetable portions of the dish: the slightly acidic green onion, the perfectly cooked butter beans, and the rich mushroom pesto. It cemented something that has been true for me through every iteration of this restaurant: The veggie-focused dishes are where it’s at.
Perhaps my least favorite dish was a combination of langoustines with green “Bloody Mary” sauce, Solana cucumber, Galician mussels, and caviar (18). The flavors were fine, but overall, this dish was kind of boring – especially given the creativity elsewhere on the menu. But that wasn’t what bothered me.
While certainly a pretty presentation, when considered as a shared plate, this dish was almost satirically laughable. There was a broth. There was one tomato filled with langoustine. There was one skewer of mussels. Sharing even with someone you know well would have been difficult, but sharing among three colleagues was… nigh on impossible.
Our other seafood dish, however, was pretty mindblowing, only narrowly missing out on first place in my book. I absolutely adored this tandoori Charente trout (15) with Vadouvan, a French curry blend far more focused on alliums than spice. It was paired with a buttermilk and cashew cream and topped with a fresh garnish of salicorne, carrot, red currant, and pickled peppers. The trout itself was just barely cooked in the center (aka my favorite way to eat any salmonid), and the sauce was rich and creamy without being too heavy. Just perfect.
As for my favorite, this gnocchi (16) knocked it out of the park. And that’s saying something, seeing how tired I’ve grown, of late, of its omnipresence. The house-made dumplings were tender and pleasantly stodgy, paired with sautéed kale, blackberries, autumn truffle, toasted macadamia nuts, and Brillat-Savarin cheese. The balance of flavors and textures was just right, with rich, earthy minerality from the kale and truffle balanced by the acidity of the blackberries and cheese. I couldn’t keep myself from going back and sampling different combinations. Overall, this dish felt like the perfect ode to the autumn equinox (and seeing as we dined on September 21, that was apt.)
We also split two desserts. The dense baba (9) had almost the texture of almond cake, which is apt seeing as it was doused, not in rum, but in amaretto. (If all future babas could be amaretto, that would suit me fine). It was topped with frozen grapes, (which I liked better in theory than in practice) as well as candied almonds and mascarpone chantilly. Real talk: I don’t love the flavor of heavy cream, so I’m always happier when it’s paired with something like crème fraiche or mascarpone to lend a touch of acidity.
But even more delicious was the brioche French toast (11). It was only lightly soaked in custard, so the texture of the bread itself was still distinguishable. It was topped with a fennel-lavender ice cream (I didn’t get much by way of lavender, but the fennel was lovely) and a sticky, salty, miso-butter caramel. The chocolate crumble was not too sweet and was a nice textural contrast, for a dessert that managed to put a foot equally in sweet, salty, and bitter territories.
The food at Le Grand Bain has always been innovative, but these days, it’s off-roading – and sometimes, that adventurousness pays off. It’s a great place to get cerebral with fellow food nerds, but if you want to avoid awkwardness, steer clear of visiting with strangers.
Le Grand Bain – 14 Rue Denoyez, 75020