In der Bar zum Krokodil[1]
[I originally wrote this in May of 2004, but had not yet published this]
Allow me to state my preferences up front – of all the various gastronomic delights it has been my pleasure to experience, the cuisine offered by the Alsace is my absolute favourite. The combination of wines, the best whites in world as far as my palate goes, and the best both German and French influences can provide on the table make it unbeatable in my books.
While I was taking my intermediate certificate in wine and spirits from the Wine Spirit Education Trust earlier in 2004, Mark Davidson told us on the evening we were sampling wines from Alsace that the annual “Festival du Choucroute” would be happening at Le Crocodile very soon. My wife and I made reservations and had one of the finest meals of our lives.
When the opportunity arose to spend an evening at Dubrulle and be entertained by Chef Michel from Le Crocodile, learn some of his tricks and recipes, and have his sommelier match nice Alsace varietal wines with each dish, I had to go of course!
Of the dishes demonstrated that evening, one was a combination I never would have thought of myself – choucroute au poisson. Sauerkraut with fish! Fish! Now, when I think of choucroute, I think of pork hock, sausage, bacon, and smoked pork chops. With fresh water fish, trout, perch, pike, and a little beurre blanc, choucroute becomes a light airy dish.
At the end of the evening, after sampling classic Alsace dishes such as tarte a l’oignon, tarte flambée, terrine de foie gras, the aforementioned choucroute, and for dessert a delicious serving of beignets de pommes, Chef Michel said “I have a large kitchen”, and if anybody were interested we could come visit his restaurant and spend the evening in the kitchen.
This was an opportunity not to be missed. I have always been curious about how a restaurant kitchen operates. With the opportunity and personal invitation of Michel after class, (“ne vous gêné pas!”), I had no excuses. Two weeks later, after making arrangements with my beautiful wife and two week old daughter to indulge my gastronomic hobby, I arrived at Le Crocodile at 6pm.
I was introduced to Frank, who is the head chef. He has been working there for ten years and claims to have never eaten in the restaurant. “When the restaurant is open, I am working in the kitchen.” Frank runs the kitchen at lunch and is Michel’s right hand man during dinner. Frank procured me a chef’s jacket and then introduced me around and gave me a tour.
The kitchen is darker than I expected, although quite adequately lit for the work that will be done that evening. There are nine people working that evening, and three guests visiting including myself. Saturday evenings are busy and roughly 110 people will be dining in the restaurant tonight.
The kitchen is reasonably sized, and there is no wasted space. Counters run along all four walls and there are two long cooking areas in the central area. The one closest to the dining room is the final plating and pick up area. It also has the small printer that spits out the orders the waiters enter on the terminal outside.
The other cooking area has the grill and cook top for sauces on one side, and the hot entrée and deep-frying area on the other. The walk-in refrigerator and the door to one of the wine storage rooms are beyond that. In the corner is the freezer where the ice cream and other frozen items are kept.
Kelly is one of two hot entrée cooks.
Julie is the pastry chef. Frank does the sauces.
The restaurant business is hard. The working conditions are physically demanding. The kitchen, especially in summer, is unbearably hot.
Michel is a genial host and we were served with a Kir, which is a drink made from white wine with a few drops of cassis. Not long after, we were given a little amuse-bouche to tempt our palates, a foie gras tart. As Kelly said, “these things are pure fat. Your taste buds love you but your arteries hate you.”
A professional kitchen never wastes anything. Since foie gras does not come in convenient uniform sizes that let you make rounds and rounds of it, there are inevitably a few end pieces left. So the surplus pieces were used to make the tarts.
Tartelettes au Foie Gras
6 egg yolks
1 litre of cream
100g foie gras
The pace at the beginning of the evening is slow. Everyone in the kitchen is happy to talk to us – it is obvious that they have had visitors before and that they even enjoy it, especially since it is pretty easy to stay out of the way.
8:30 was the peak busy time and nobody was talking anymore. Chef Michel and Frank would call out orders and the various folks would call the order back and start preparing them. Even though everyone was now working quickly, it was very orderly.
A second round of Kir arrived, as well as a sample of tomato-gin soup. I am fond neither of gin, nor in general of tomato soup, but the combination was fabulous – I would happily order it any time.
A third round of Kir magically appeared, as well as some escargots.
A fourth (and final) round of Kir was served to us, and we were invited to have a table in the dining room. By then I was quite full, but I ordered the white asparagus with seared foie gras with morel sauce, one of the entrée[2] specials that evening, and asked the waiter to have Julie to pick a dessert for me. She sent out the mille feuille de bananes flambé au rhum[3]. Delicious.
Le Crocodile is not an inexpensive restaurant. However, it is excellent value for the money. http://www.lecrocodilerestaurant.com/
[1] I cannot resist a good pun. The Alsace was “traded” between Germany and France for a significant part of its history, Le Crocodile has a bar, and the Comedian Harmonists have a song called “In der Bar zum Krokodil”.
[2] Entrée in this case means appetizer.
[3] Warm Sauteed Banana Mille Feuille Flambeed with Cuban Rum
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