Tributes to Bernard Pacaud, Part I: The Silence of the L’Ambroisie

Robert Brown
By
Robert Brown
When I was born, I was destined to dine. When I was a child, my parents began collecting fine wine, ate the food in France of...
6 Min Read

Once upon a time in the 1970s, 1980s and most of the 1990s, there was a Golden Age of French Gastronomy. It was an epoch during which scores of notable restaurants and their chefs regaled their clientele with copious menus, the dishes of which were laboriously fashioned from impeccable, and often luxurious, ingredients served in spacious, tasteful, comfortable dining rooms by highly-schooled and experienced servers. Portions were almost always generous, and sometimes even more, for their creators wanted you to experience them in full force and in all their glory.

For ardent diners recently setting out along gastronomic highways and byways, it’s rather a different set of circumstances. As fine dining has become more sought after and less elitist, the qualities that defined higher-echelon dining before the turn of the century have all but disappeared, replaced in large measure by regimented meals characterized by a larger variety of dishes served in small portions; cuisine based more on personal whimsy than classicism; the chef as celebrity “personage”; and contemporary technology and chemistry in the kitchen.

In terms of experiencing this Age d’Or de la Gastronomie, which is what we think every aspiring gastronome who already hasn’t should, there are luxury hotel restaurants to go to where you can be surrounded by opulence with formality dating back to the late 19th-century such as L’Epicure, the main dining salon in the Hotel Bristol or the Alain Ducasse Restaurant Le Louis XV in the Hotel de Paris in Monaco, where the cuisine and service hark somewhat back to this Golden Age. Yet in our estimation, no restaurant quite captures the undistilled essence of fine dining in France of the last 30 years of the 20th-century than L’Ambroisie.

If you are a deeply caring restaurant romantic who enjoys being enveloped and swept away by every aspect of a visit, L’Ambroisie is a must. Since 1986, its address, 9, Place des Vosges, sets the scene before you set foot in the restaurant itself.

Dating from 1612, the square is one of the most magisterial and tranquil ones in Paris. In keeping with it, L’Ambroisie is furnished and decorated with 17th-century furniture, tapestries and chandeliers. It, too, is a tranquil place with tables well-spaced, making diners reflexively considerate of others.

Photo: Owen Franken

When owner-chef Bernard Pacaud moved his restaurant in 1986 to its present location, I remember how it and Joël Robuchon’s restaurant Jamin were nearly impossible to book a table. Last I checked, lunch reservations are available whenever you want with dinner fully booked only a few days in advance. It’s a melancholy symbol of how gastronomy and people’s perceptions of it have changed. In several aspects, Pacaud at age 71 is the last man standing. Unlike the restaurants mentioned above, he is in charge of the cuisine, for it is his one and only restaurant, with no one plucked from the outside to keep the restaurant going. With no other restaurant to distract him, no advertising budget, and no outside ventures, Pacaud and L’Ambroisie are fully one in the same, besides which he is still creating new dishes to go along with his classics.

In the annals of contemporary French gastronomy, Pacaud’s CV has the unique entry of having worked in the kitchen of the legendary chef Eugénie Brazier (La Mère Brazier) when barely an adolescent. His cuisine is rooted in the refined earthiness of great Lyonnais-Rhône Valley chefs such as Paul Bocuse, Alain Chapel, Jean Troisgros and Jean Vignard.  Pacaud also tips his hat to Italy now and then with always an Alba white truffle dish on the fall menu, the most recent one being a refined and subtle version of a “trufalau”, a mixture of egg, cheese and truffle.

Although the harsh reality of restaurant economics has scaled back kitchen and dining room staffs and reduced the number of offerings on the menu, L’Ambroisie’s four à-la-carte-only offerings each of starters, fish dishes, meat dishes and desserts are in keeping with other Parisian restaurants in the luxury category.

To invoke the memorable phrase of Barack Obama, who had dinner at L’Ambroisie three years ago with President Hollande and Secretary of State John Kerry among others, there is the fierce urgency of now to visit the restaurant. Although Pacaud is the same age as Michel Bras and a few years older than Marc Veyrat, Guy Savoy and Pierre Gagnaire, there is no telling how much longer L’Ambroisie will remain in existence. As such it remains the purest survivor of the Golden Age. It is the object of Pacaud’s undivided attention, a bastion of authenticity of every respect.

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When I was born, I was destined to dine. When I was a child, my parents began collecting fine wine, ate the food in France of Fernand Point and Raymond Oliver, and often took my brother and me to New York from our house in Western Massachusetts to New York to eat in the best restaurants. When I started my rare books and posters business in 1970, I made (and still make) frequent trips to Europe with my wife where we traveled the length and breadth of France and Italy (and often Japan) to visit and revisit the great and interesting restaurants. While obtaining a Master’s degree at the Annenberg School of Communication at the University of Pennsylvania, I did my research in mass communication and mass and popular culture. It shaped my unique way in writing about and conceptualizing gastronomy.


I look at, and keep a constant eye on, how restaurant gastronomy in particular has evolved over the past 50 years in terms of innovation and change; the ways in which it is portrayed in mass and social media and their effects on dining preferences and tastes; the influence of new technology on creativity; the role that access to capital and restaurants as economic entities in influencing the state of dining; how people make decisions of where and how to spend their time and money on dining; the result of gastronomy moving from an elite to a mass phenomenon; and the myriad of real and conceptual matters that come into my mind on an almost-daily basis. This experience has made me vigorously represent the autonomy and well-being of my fellow diners, an aspect that is inexorably being diminished and thus taking its toll on integrity and connoisseurship. How all of this affects my gastronomic opinions and decision-making is apparent in what I have contributed, and will further contribute, to Gastromondiale.

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