#l'enclume

[happywebdesign]

L'Enclume

[happywebdesign]

https://www.lenclume.co.uk

[lady-aga]

Fera at Claridges

Fera as in wild - like feral.  It's Latin and it's also the latest dining installation at Claridges hotel from Simon Rogan who hails from, most notably, L'Enclume up in Cumbria; a two Michelin star establishment with a heavy focus on foraging and locality.  I've never been, but I know people who have and they say it's better than The Fat Duck.

Wild is perhaps not an attribute you would necessarily align with Claridges hotel; one of London's chicest hospitality destinations - all elegant sophistication and not in the least bit untamed.  I might have felt a little vulnerable and prey-like having flung myself through the revolving doors into Claridges vast urban safari of Art Deco luxe and encountered a distinct lack of enthusiasm to show me to the dining room but, once you've located the red velvet curtains of Fera, it's hospitality central.  The staff are so charming and pitch-perfect in their reception it's almost comical.  It also helps that they all look, well, just so damned good!  I particularly loved the girl's uniforms of colourblock navy and black long sleeved shift dresses; a look that The Blonde summed up as 'futuristic air hostess'.

The dining room really is pretty damned beathtaking - designed by Guy Oliver (who, we were informed, was eating at the next door table to us on our opening lunch visit).  It's an oasis of smoke green, lush leather textures, opulent carpets, stained glass ceiling panels and an ornate hand painted wall. 

Said wall also features a vast illuminated entrance kitchen pass (more voyeuristic diners can even enter for a kitchen tour) adding a bit of spotlit glamour for the stars of our show; the chefs.

In the centre of the room you've got an imposing tree with spindly branches stretching up to the sun-like stained glass above.

We started with one of the nameless cocktails (they're listed by their ingredients and there's pretty much something for every palette ranging from the bellini to the negroni to the sour) which we were told was most martini-like.  The bar has employed the services of The Moonshine Kid (he of Talented Mr Fox) who has worked closely with the kitchen to come up with one of the most original lists I've seen in a while.  In signature Moonshine style, you can expect all kinds of clever distillation tricks.  No Monster Munch martini here, instead tipples reference the fresh produce that Fera, most of which is shipped down from L'Enclume's sustainable farm once a week.

It was The Blonde's birthday and we were in the celebrating mood so managed to massively up-sell ourselves into selecting the second most expensive menu available (the subtly incremental price point differences between each of the five lunch menus really speaks to your credit card like no other).  I was handed the priceless menu on arrival which was an interesting move...  so who know how much damage I inflicted on my wallet by volunteering to pick up the bill; ah, the perils of looking like a kept woman.

Anyway, here's the lowdown on our ten courses, and then some...

First up, pea wafer, fennel and flowers - flavours as bright and refreshing as the colour palette. The pea wafer being Michelin's answer to the kale crisp.

Stewed rabbit with lovage sounded like we were in for a casserole-esque dish but what arrived was a crunchy fritter with a sort of pork scratching-like exterior and creamy gamey centre; like the first course, a great play on alternate textures.

The sommelier was very keen to have us on the orange wine - a wine made from the entire grape (like how they make rouge but with white grapes instead of red) and fermented in a clay jug for up to half a year.  However, with prices starting at £60 we went for a more affordable Morellino di Scansano instead.  Excellent hand-crafted stemware here, courtesy of Mark Thomas.

Mackerel, caviar and seawater cream - a mooreish rich ceviche.

This next course was not listed on the menu so came with a bit of fanfare - apparently Rogan considers bread and butter to be a course in its own right so here we have a mushroom broth (just out of shot), a warm hunk of soda-ish bread and bone marrow butter.  The broth was loaded with umami (think mushroom ketchup) and The Blonde lapped it up, despite his fear of the funghi.

This next course... oh, my: Winslade, potato and duck heart.  The creamiest of mashed potato, infused with Winslade cheese (a Camembert-esque Tunworth; a product of the Neal's Yard and Hamlshire Cheeses collaboration) and duck hearts.  Carby, comforting and bowl-scrapingly epic - in truth, the sound these dishes make when they are scraped is not a good one so you've really got to be dedicated to the cause to do so.  If chicken soup is Jewish penicillin, this dish could heal the world.

Raw beef, smoked broccoli cream, scallop roe, acidic apple juice - best tartare I've ever eaten, hands down.

Prawns from Gairloch, prime pork fat, borage and chicory.  They cure the lardo themselves at Fera and it is heaven in melting piggy form.

Brill cooked in whey, flavoured with hogweed, Jerseys, blewit 'shrooms and beach herbs.  Earthy flavours and brill so succulent it can only have been cooked sous vide and then given a final glaze in the frying pan.

Middle white pork, caramelised leek, broad bean and mead reduction.

The gravy was administered by a chef they call Goose - pork served by Goose.  Now that probably wouldn't happen in the wild!

We had been tipped off that the pork was THE dish - Rogan's pairing of belly and loin obviously set my world alight but the prawn and lardo combo was the ultimate in my eyes.

Savoury courses now over, time for some sweetness.  Baked yoghurt, pear poached in perry, mint and Muscovado - a perfect palate cleanser and the best brandy snap money can buy

Iced beech leaf, nitro sweet cheese, apple sorel - the specifics of this dish slightly evade me because, at this point, the joyous people of Fera brought us each a complimentary birthday cocktail; there is nothing, I repeat nothing, in this world I enjoy more than free delicious booze.  This was such an unexpected and thoughtful gesture - I'd mentioned in the online booking that the meal was a birthday celebration but the fact that it was remembered and recognised in this way underlines the attention to detail going on at Fera.  Plus, let's face it, a piped birthday message or token sparkler isn't going to add anything to these already too-beautiful dishes.

Then arrived what appeared to be a tankard of chamomile milkshake.  The prospect of downing the shake after however-many courses was only slightly intimidating to this well-seasoned Yorkshire stomach.  However, upon presentation at the table, the vessel was deftly lifted and shifted to reveal our diddy chocolate malt beneath and the fact tankard was just an elaborately crafted shot glass on legs (two thirds of the glass is hollow)

The staff kindly move the menu down its holder as you plough your way through each course so you can see just where you're at in the tasting game- so, by now, you an see that we had completed Fera.

Not quite... petit fours including macarons with a smokey ganache filling, presented in a smoke filled box - whose wafts I failed to catch on camera, such was the delight and excitement at their arrival.

In typical fashion, we were the last at our table and, in the interests of affording the staff a little privacy during their briefing we headed to the bar to hang out with the movers and shakers and money makers

As per every other element of Fera, the small but perfectly formed adjoining bar is delightfully done; don't expect endless shelves housing every alcohol under the sun - in view are just a few gins and vodkas with artfully displayed homemade bitters on the bar top.  All booze is London-local and small batch- we're talking Sipsmiths, Dods, Jensen's and, obviously, that old Moonshine Kid.

A seriously class operation on all levels - unlike these two.

Fera, I'm wild about you.

Fera at Claridges, Brook Street, London W1K 4HR

[jamesaufenast]

A stunning mix of science and foraging at L'Enclume but more Simon Rogan please

And so to L'Enclume, on a beautiful, sunny day with clouds scuttling past on the A590 as we drove with the roof down to the famous restaurant.

After barrelling down narrow lanes with high hedges, past some very healthy looking cattle we arrived in Cartmel. With a stream splashing past a garden at the back the restaurant puts one in mind of some French Michelin-starred venues.

We asked to move from the conservatory at the back, however, much to the surprise of the manager. Although favoured spot of Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan when they visted I'm not a fan – they tend to get overheated and echo a lot.

We chose the five- rather than 14-course menu and were keen to get moving on the food following the 10/10 in the new Good Food Guide, as well as Rogan's performance in the Great British Menu.

The first dish was cod poured out of a saffron gel, a smart re-working of fried egg, with sage cream making the egg 'white'.

It looked stunning, and sat upon a bed of dried wild rice with added salt and vinegar flavour. This combination is a current chef's favourite but I find it overpowering and unsubtle, dominating any dish, and it did so here.

But silvery-green leaves were not pea shoots as a waiter insisted: with a salty taste they were more likely sea purslane.

Small pieces of lamb's tongue in the next dish was a bold move, with a strong, almost urea-like edge from the meat balanced by a light buttermilk foam.

Next up, suckling pig was cooked slow and long in a water bath. The skin was crispy but broad beans were too firm and brocolli rab - chilli and garlic cooked purple sprouting had raw vegetable flavour.

And so onto a wonderful foraged pineapple weed - yellow, acorn-shaped flowers that like stony ground, with exquisite flavour in a sorbet.

You can see Rogan's thinking with the celery base, as the similar looking angelica root is used in old-fashioned sweets but this latest fine dining example of savoury-in-sweet didn't work.

The star turn was the last: macerated cherries with apple granita, a scattering of hazelnut and a very tasty cider reduction with meadowsweet leaves, a herb with white flowers that's found in damp, grassy areas.

Rogan has changed his presentation from very precise to more freeform, while keeping some extraordinarily intense flavours. But it felt like this could veer towards conveyor belt dining if Rogan isn't careful. A lack of emotion and cursory service, but wonderful ideas and technique makes this 7.5/10.

[greatbritishchefs]

Simon Rogan's L'Enclume by Foodographic

The North West Heat of the Great British Menu is shaping up to be fantastic viewing. Newcomer to the contest, Simon Rogan's dishes are already wowing judge Marcus Wareing.  Those in London may have sampled his gastronimic delights at the "pop up" Roganic, but what about Simon's original stomping ground in Cartmel, the North West of England,  L'Enclume?  We sent Great British Chefs guest blogger Deanna Thomas along to find out....

Photography & Review by Deanna Thomas

To be honest, I was apprehensive about reviewing this one. L’Enclume has consistently wowed diners and critics with its molecular gastronomy and is currently rated at number 2 ‘Top 50 restaurants’ in the Good Food Guide. Like opera is to pop music, the style of food produced here is on another level and would be virtually impossible to replicate at home. It treads a delicate balance between a real affinity with nature, and scientific boundary-pushing.

Every dish is put together using several involved components, each in turn with a mind-blowing array of individual processes. The restaurant has its own development kitchen/science laboratory, full of chefs’ toys and contraptions which can deconstruct all manner of vegetable matter and refashion it into different forms. My worry was that during all this gastro-processing and ever-so-clever reconstituting, had they forgotten the basic objective of feeding hungry customers with actual food? Would we be served several platefuls of clouds, spumes and foams? Flavoured and powdered air and things that look like soil but aren’t?

Cartmel is a beautiful village full of pretty, painted Lakeland stone houses, independently owned shops and old fashioned English pubs. L’Enclume overlooks the gardens and the babbling brook to the ancient church beyond. Many ingredients come from their own six acre farm which provides them with a level of almost total control from field to fork. Each dish features lesser known herbs and leaves which are so fresh they’re picked only a few hours before each service.

The format is simple; there is no ‘a la carte’ menu as such. Diners choose from two set eight-course menu’s (one vegetarian) for £69, or a 12 course menu for £89, and are asked to declare any special dietary requirements at the point of booking. If you prefer to choose your own three course meal, try Simon Rogan’s brasserie round the corner ‘Rogan & Company’ 

We contemplated the view and the menu over a cucumber scented gin and tonic, duck skin scratchings and lightly puffed tapioca crackers. The menu is a bit of a tease. There’s no way anyone could guess what a dish could possibly be by its description alone - that’s part of the adventure.

The first items to arrive were simply described as ‘onion cheese wafers’ and were thin, translucent crisps topped with shavings of frozen cheese, intense onion marmalade and slightly sweet biscuit crumbs. What a great way to get the taste buds woken up and tingling.

This was closely followed by ‘Oysters pebbles’ – soft, savoury, grey meringue and oyster leaves nestled in camouflage amongst a bowl of real pebbles. The fleshy leaves combined with the aerated squid ink infusion giving a real wave of sea-salty tanginess.

Soon after appeared ‘carrot sacks’. I wasn’t sure which part of the carrot was it’s ‘sack’ but it turned out to describe the little ceramic serving pots containing emulsified carrot mousse hiding chunks of lobster, and topped with carrot cake crumbs.

A trio of warm bread rolls were brought over at this point – dark and nutty pumpernickel, spelt and barley, and white organic flour, with whipped, salted butter.

Simon Rogan loves the purity of earthy vegetables and native leaves, elevating them out of the background and into the spotlight they deserve. His dishes strive to capture the essence of an English pastoral landscape - silky golden turnip dumplings drizzled with a strong cheesy dressing of Westcombe cheddar, crispy Alexander leaf tempura and rock samphire.

Next, tartare of valley venison on a smear of darkly-fried onions, dots of English mustard, crisp celery, shallots and two tiny, intensely flavoured fennel sweets which quite unexpectedly burst their liquid-centre into our mouths under only the slightest pressure.

The pace of service, like everything, is closely controlled by the kitchen and at this point they allowed for a little break before presenting ‘Dublin bay prawn in pig skin, beetroot and sea beet’. The pig skin added a contrasting crunch to the prawn in the form of a coating of the lightest crackling. Beetroot appeared in triplicate - a golden puree, pale yellow shavings and their green oceanic cousin, sea beet. The dish was drizzled with warm concentrated seafood bisque.

Sole fillet, cockles, crow’s garlic, celeriac and chestnut puree was a delicious combination of flavours and textures topped with fried winter cabbage leaves. I imagined the head chef standing at the pass holding his checklist to ensure it was perfectly balanced – hot, cold, rich, light, nutty, sweet, fresh, soft, crunchy. Yes, all those boxes of adjectives ticked, ‘service!’

Lightly cooked Dexter beef appeared next, with tiny squares of tripe braised in a slightly fishy concentrate (oyster sauce?) Bold colours came from a syrupy reduction of red cabbage juice, watercress puree and crispy marrowbone. Like a good cast in a West-End play, each element absolutely supported the beef without letting it dominate.

The marrowbone was smoked before being used to infuse balls of bechamel coated in breadcrumbs. This put us in mind of Findus Crispy pancakes of all things. Ever since my husband commented that Wagyu beef reminded him of the burger in a big Mac, I’ve realised that the mind reaches for comparative flavour memories to bring an element of comfort and familiarity. Now we’re being honest, the stuff they used to stick the pork skin to the prawn reminded me of the squeezy flavour sachet you get with a Pot Noodle. See? This has a lot to do with personal nostalgic taste references.

That was the end of the savoury wave, which made way for desserts – but, being in L’Enclume, not as we know them. Enter the most dramatic dish of the day, ‘sea buckthorn, anise hyssop, liquorice and butternut’, a riot of aerated textures, the eating of which was not unpleasantly like fighting with a cloud. Butternut squash was dehydrated and its dried natural fibres morphed into something resembling a sea sponge.

The bright orange was mirrored in a sharp sherbet tangerine sorbet, and offset by warm liquorice custard.  I’m not sure in what form the sea buckthorn came (though I promise I was listening) but, as it’s also bright orange, could have been the powdery sprinkles. Anise hyssop leaves were dotted around the plate. Further research told me they are related to sea buckthorn which shows Simon Rogan to be a man who studies botany and uses families of plants and vegetables to inspire his dishes.

The final dish was a pretty riot of colour and texture - a witty play on cheese and biscuits. Smooth, frozen cheese ice cream and bright green sorrel granita, bright pink rhubarb syrup, poached pear and short, crunchy hazelnuts biscuits.

To cook this style of food successfully you need to be obsessed with detail, have natural ability and an intimate knowledge of ingredients. I also think it’s imperative to back it all up with a sense of fun – which really appeals to our British eccentricity.

It’s almost impossible to communicate how any creative experience makes you feel, which is why I was so apprehensive about writing this review. To report that I ate sea buckthorn and anise hyssop is unlikely to inspire anyone to visit - no more than my attempt at singing a libretto would get you all fired up for a night at the opera. However, we had fun, it wasn’t at all pretentious or intimidating, and we never did have to stop for a burger on the way back.

Deanna Thomas reviewed Simon Rogan's L'Enclume for Great British Chefs.

You can see Simon Rogan on series 7 Great British Menu competing for the North West this week.  Which are your favourite dishes from Deanna's meal. We'll be discussing this over on Great British Chefs Facebook Page.

[greatbritishchefs]

Roganic? Wow!

What's small, has a life span of only two years, is 100% British and absolutely delicious … and appears to be thriving in the very heart of London's urban chic Marylebone village? The answer is Simon Rogan and Penny Tapsell's Blandford Street eatery, Roganic: a two year pop restaurant 'passionate about the very best in British natural ingredients all cooked with skill and imagination and served with warmth and style'.  Great British Chefs' blogger Chris Osburn went along to see what was on offer.

All photography by Chris Osburn

Roganic's location is about as Zone 1/Central London as a place can possibly be.

Still Rogan and Tapsell succeed in bringing a bit of the country (a la their Michelin starred Lake District restaurant L'Enclume) to the big city.

Key to this success is Ben Spalding, a responsive and enthused head chef, and a smartly assembled team backing him up at the front of house and in the kitchen as he comes up with some amazing dishes as intriguingly flavoursome as they are pleasant to look at.

Spalding's creations represent British dining at its best. The vast majority of ingredients used are British.

On my visit, I was told everything served to me and my dining companion was from Britain except a wee bit of Congolese chocolate shaved atop some venison .. and of course some of the wines (although the meal started with English sparkling) and coffee.

In capable hands, great things can be done with locally sourced ingredients. I could wax poetic about the courses I had the pleasure of sampling during my recent lunch, but I think that would spoil what's so delightful about a visit to Roganic. Reading the menu, then seeing how the dishes are actualised, how they are presented and paired with wines … it's all part of a refined (yet far from stuffy) experience.

However, I will say that if bilberries, Mr Little's Yetholm Gypsies or King Richards are anywhere on the menu when you go round, you'll be in luck. Also, a warm milkshake seasoned with Douglas fir is awesome. And now I'll refrain from the urge to blather on about warm spiced bread, smoked clotted cream, buckshorn plantains, chokeberry vinia.

Already six months or so into its 24 month run, Roganic is a must-do for anyone seeking a refreshing and seasonal dining experience. I'm certainly keen to return and especially curious to find out how Spalding and crew will go about a winter menu come January and February and then what they'll do in the early days of spring … and then ... Yeah, this is one for repeat visits.

Roganic is open Tuesday through Saturday for lunch and dinner with three, six and ten course menus available (but keep reading if you plan to visit Roganic in evening during December 2011).

The three course menu (£29 or £35 with two glasses of wine) is offered Tuesday through Friday lunch time only. The six course menu (£55) is offered Tuesday through Friday during lunch and dinner and on Saturdays only during lunch. The ten course menu (£80) is available Tuesday through Saturday for lunch and dinner (and is the only menu offered on Saturday evenings).

NB: During the month of December 2011, the ten course menu is the only menu offered as the evening meal.

Roganic Review for Great British Chefs by Chris Osburn  More of Chris’s photos from his visit at this link. Recipes from Simon Rogan's celebratory menu can be downloaded on Great British Chefs Feastive App.

How important is it to you that restaurants use locally sourced ingredients? Which restaurants will you be eating out in with family & friends over Christmas?  What are your favourite local restaurants?  We'll be discussing these questions over on Great British Chefs’ Facebook page. 

[rufus]

The Underground Menu at L'Enclume

On Sunday night the GF and I ate at L'Enclume in Cartmel. We signed up for the "Underground Menu", advertised as "No holds barred, no deviations" and running to as many as 26 courses. The chef Simon Rogan is possibly the most innovative chef in the UK, pushing forward concepts and ideas in molecular gastronomy more than anyone except Ferran Adria. It's safe to say that I was more excited about this meal than anything I've eaten since the Fat Duck. Cartmel is extremely rural, teetering on the edge of the Lake District National Park. It's famous for two things: its priory, and sticky toffee pudding. It would be a strange place to put a bleeding edge restaurant, except that the Lakes attract lots of tourists and weekenders from northern towns. We hardly heard a London accent all weekend. The restaurant has five rooms and also a small garden. It's practically under the eaves of the priory, on the edge of a small river. Our original supper was booked for 8.30pm, but when we upgraded to the Underground Menu we were asked to come at 6pm, in order to have an aperitif in the garden, and warm up for a marathon meal. The maitre d' explained that they serve the extended menu to only 2 or 3 tables a week. He stressed that when eating almost continuously (albeit in tiny portions) for 5 hours it's best to drink very modestly, in order to stave off fatigue. We obviously didn't need pre-dinner nibbles, but it was cashew nuts dusted with masala spices. The real opener was "Rehydration Dehydration", consisting of a thin fine textured biscuit tasting of pina colada, and a shot of foamy juice tasting like fig newtons. The pina colada biscuit seemed to have been really made by baking actual pina colada on an exopat at a low temperature, until just the pineapple and coconut fibres were left as a solid piece. This second course was called "Coney's Cornets". The cornet on the left had a sweet red pepper ice cream, with hundreds and thousands made from dehydrated pepper flakes. The right hand cornet I think was tarragon ice cream, with a block of gel shaped to look like a flake. This is "Lollipop 'perigourdine' and pickled onion turkish". The lollipop was a hard caramel of foie gras and truffles, reminiscent of fleur de sel and foie gras creme brulee, which is almost a standard on the Ile de Re. The turkish delight was really excellent too, with the sharp vinegar of the pickled onion cutting through the cloying powdery nature of the turkish delight. This was "Whim 03", and I think was one of the dishes that came semi-unplanned, off the cuff, as our menu evolved. It was the first dish that absolutely knocked me into a cocked hat for technical brilliance. The white block was an impossibly light, and yet completely sturdy marscapone foam, topped with salmon roe, on a bed of parsley puree. The pink powder was grated frozen tuna, which reminded me of freeze dried astronaut food. The white puree was grapefruit foam, with passion fruit seeds. This was a riot of contrasting textures, with absolutely surprising complementary flavours. "BBQ pig, cola, rasins, oregano". Small chunks of aromatic roast pork belly, with a coca-cola gel, raisins steeped in something mysterious, a thick mustard espuma, and a sprig of seaweed. This was a deconstructed version of Nigella's Ham in Coca-cola. Reworked dishes can be a let-down, with the new presentation adding nothing, but this was the sweetest best tiny piece of pork ever. This is "Cold and colder foie gras, blood orange, pistachio, quinoa". Cold foie gras slices, with foie gras ice cream on a pistachio and nori wafer. To get a Michelin star you practically have to serve foie gras, but surely the inspectors don't expect it frozen. The fine powder was camomile, which suggests that this whole dish might be a hat-tip to Heston Blumenthal's roast foie gras with almond fluid gel, cherry, and camomile. Anyway this was better. This was "Charentais melon, horseradish, smoke". It's an elaborate inversion of the expected ingredients. The green ball is not melon, but actually a perfect sphere of horseradish cream, with a crisp coat, similar to a chocolate truffle with a liquid centre. It was floating in melon juice/foam, dressed with drops of red salmon oil. "Cornish crab, black radish, ricotta, and gingerbread." The GF claimed she's seen gingerbread as a accompaniment to seafood before, but I was amazed. The white sauce was a pine nut infusion, and came in a separate test tube. The foam was plain ricotta, and the white diced vegetables were slow cooked radishes, leaving them translucent. This "Egg drop hot and sour soup", is a steal from Wylie Dufresne. I've previously conquered the technique, but I was still pleased to see it done it a real restaurant. The cup contains very hot soup, and comes with a syringe of semi-cooked liquid egg, secretly laced with transglutaminase. Squirting the syringe into the hot soup causes the egg proteins to coalesce as noodles. Despite the theatrics, the soup was a great authentic Hot and Sour soup, with plump quinoa at the bottom of the cup. The pace and invention of the menu is unrelenting. These dishes kept coming almost as fast as we could eat them. This is "Razor Role Reversal", featured in this video. Razor clams and chestnuts as a sort of soup with "croutons" in the egg shell, and creamy chicken in the clam shell. Again this was beautiful, intriguing, unexpected, and above all delicious. Up to this point the GF perhaps felt that technique was triumphing over taste, but the combination of chestnuts and razor clams won her over completely. "Greek meatball and textureless tzatziki" was utterly brilliant. In Decoding Ferran Adria, the great man talks about wanting food that tastes like itself. This was a perfect example of that. A fabulous juicy kofte meatball, with tzatziki foam. The added irony being that Cartmel is such a rural idyll, that it doesn't even have a kebab van. Although it looks as though I was too drunk to focus, I was actually suffering equipment failure. It's harder than you might think to surreptitiously photograph each dish is such a smart restaurant. This was "Diver scallops, joselito, peas agastache". They got bonus marks from me for serving something I thought I'd never heard of, but agastache is another name for hyssop. It was used to make the gel cylinders. The star of the plate was the "peas", which were actually pea puree, formed into actual pea shapes, using Adria's famous caviar technique. It uses sodium alginate to form a skin on individual drops of puree as they plunge into a calcium chloride water bath. I've played about with alginate endlessly, and it's next to impossible even under low pressure home cooking conditions. When I find the cash for El Bulli 2003-2004, I may actually discover how to do it with any reliability. "Scottish langoustines, passion, sage, eggplant, yuzu". These two langoustines were topped with a sweet passion fruit foam. The yuzu was formed into gel blobs around the plate. I am little hazy on what else was going on, but there was a sage powder made using tapioca maltodextrin. This was off-the-wall inventiveness in terms of flavours, although the gels and foams, were seeming familiar, particularly having eaten at The Vineyard only 48 hours earlier. Another technical marvel in the form of "Butternut, sweet cicely and tonka". The butternut had been crafted into layers to make a ravioli. Whether this was done using a steady hand, or wizardry I don't know. The beans were actually kidney beans, with the rich tonka bean flavour being infused into the foam. "Sole, saffron, asparagus, mastic, carrots". Every ingredient made into either a gel or a foam to dress the sole, except for the glassy sheets, which were actually a rosemary caramel. Although the gel/foam combo had popped up again, this was rich and wonderful, and really successful. It was followed by "Five flavoured monkfish, pimento, lentils, hazelnut". My photo of this is somehow trapped in my broken phone. It was an incredible succulent monkfish fillet dressed with hazelnut foam. Between the fish and meat courses we got this palate cleansing "Ginger beer, galangal, cardamom". The ginger beer was whipped into an air, probably using lecithin, and ladled onto the galangal jelly. The single meat course (except for the foie gras and the ham, duh), was this "Beef rib, watermelon, liquorice, and perilla." It was a giant clash of techniques that had been showcased earlier. One little fillet was resting on diced watermelon, while the other was resting on a powder that was made from a mix of a rich beef stock reduction and liquorice. As a final show-off move, it was topped with a bone marrow gel. This was swiftly followed by the largest "cheese chariot" that I've ever seen, complete with an actual french "cheese sommelier". "Parmesan cake, white chocolate, celery, black olive", was the first pudding. It reminded me of a pudding being served at Bacchus, the "Black olive financier, roasted pear ice-cream, fig puree, pine nuts". Olives in a pudding is high-risk, as Sat Bains found out on Great British Menu, when Oliver Peyton called his "Raspberry sponge with black olive and honey puree, fresh raspberries and goats' milk ice cream", the "worst pudding he had ever tasted". At L'Enclume it worked well, with the strong olive and parmesan flavours tempered by the chocolate. The first and only punning dish was this "Expearamenthol Frappe". Espresso powder, on a eucalyptus foam, on a pear jelly. Once again a stunning combination. The penultimate pudding was definitely the technical summit of the meal. It was called "Stiffy Tacky Pudding". Each blob had to be eaten in sequence from left to right, chewing as we went, and not swallowing until they were all in. They were each a different component from sticky toffee pudding, some solid, some liquid, encased in a transparent gel, so they could be picked up by hand. This was flabbergastingly futuristic, like something from 2001 (the movie, not the year). This was "Blancmange in strawberry, verjus, basil, and sheep's milk". The blancmange was an artful strawberry and basil construction, topped with sheep's milk ice cream, and verjus foam. I was almost too fatigued to appreciate its intricacies, but there was also a lemongrass gel capsule, with a liquid centre, and what might have been a dehydrated "fruits of the forest" powder. Coffee came with these delectable petit fours. I don't think there's a more exciting meal than this anywhere in the whole world, even in Roses. This was 24 flawless brilliant courses by a chef who is not just "at the top of his game", but somewhere out in front of his rivals. For me he's edging ahead of Heston and Ferran, because in addition to technical fireworks, and novel flavour combinations, he's also using predominantly local seasonal ingredients. What is even more astonishing is that the entire menu is changed four times a year. I can't wait to go back. Book now before L'Enclume gets overwhelmed with foodie pilgrims.