Not Your Daddy’s Muscadet! 

I recently had the pleasure of re-tasting one of the wines that blew my mind last year (and in so doing, completely changed my conception of the much-maligned Muscadet): the delicious cuvée ‘Gorges’ from Domaine de la Pépière, a biodynamically farmed estate in the perennially underrated Loire valley sub-region of Muscadet, just off the Atlantic coast. Fermented spontaneously with native yeasts, and aged on its lees in underground, glass-lined cement tanks for more than 3 years before bottling… At once chiselled and sappy, bristling with tension and minerality, boasting lovely floral, citrus and flinty aromas, and an endless saline finish, this is an exemplar of the new style of wines coming out of Muscadet today, wines sommelier David Biraud (Thierry Marx / Mandarin Oriental, Paris ) so elegantly describes as jus de cailloux – stone juice. 

Melon de Bourgogne – the long underappreciated grape behind Muscadet – is proving today to have a remarkable capacity to translate terroir ©EmelineBoileau

Gorges is the name of the first Muscadet Cru, created in 1998 to distinguish the wines from a commune with a distinctive soil type (today there are 10, from Cru Clisson, whose granite terroir yields rich, textured wines, to Cru Goulaine, whose terroir of gneiss and mica-schist makes elegant, opulent wines). The wines from the Cru Gorges are part of a vanguard over the last 20 years of a different breed of Muscadet created as expressions of distinctive terroirs, and which includes both the new Cru wines but also many other bottlings from sensitive winemakers with exquisite soils (from Domaine de l’Ecu’s “Orthogneiss” to Domaines Landron’s “Amphibolite”, respectively named after the igneous or metamorphic stone found in a specific vineyard). 

The geology of Gorges is special, boasting deep soils of clay and quartz pebbles over a homogenous subsoil of gabbro – rocks from the oceanic crust of eons past, formed by the slow cooling of magnesium-rich and iron-rich magma. What is the subsoil of the vineyard that gives Jérome Bretaudeau of Domaine de Bellevue his cuvée Gaia, considered by many to be one of the greatest Muscadets created today? Gabbro. These volcanic wines of Muscadet’s gabbro terroirs are among the firmest, most structured and most intensely mineral of all – especially when made using biodynamic viticulture and meticulous, low-interventionist winemaking like of Domaine de la Pepière. These are white wines for ageing: this 2019 is just starting to open up, ideally you should open this after 5 or 10 years if you really want to knock your socks off.

A few of Jérome Bretaudeau’s fabulous single vineyard Muscadets, during a tasting at La Dive Bouteille wine festival in the Loire Valley

Back in the early 1990s, before the Cru Gorges was created, at a time when too many producers in Muscadet were prioritizing quantity over quality, the winemaker Jo Landron of Domaines Landron charted a new path for the region. Landron was among the first winemakers in the region to abandon chemicals in the vineyard and the cellar, and to develop a range of cuvées to highlight the different soil and bedrock types found in his estate’s various plots, from those with a subsoil of the metamorphic rock Amphibolite, to the sandstone over clay terroirs of his Fief du Breil plot, to his Clos la Carizière plots made up of orthogneiss and quartz rocks. The quality and distinctiveness of these single-vineyard bottlings, all made with the same grape – Melon de Bourgogne – was so undeniable, that even the world of fine dining in Paris (which by the 2000s had all but banned Muscadet for its menus) had to take notice.

Landron’s flagship cuvée is undoubtedly Amphibolite – named for a type of rock produced through the metamorphism of gabbro. A palate of juicy citrus fruit, at once fresh and rich, with a lovely backbone of oceanic minerality… this is just good wine, easy-drinking, forget the off-the-charts acidity we’ve long associated with Muscadet. 

When David Biraud, the 2002 best sommelier of France, landed his first head sommelier position in 2000 at Hotel Crillon’s Les Ambassadeurs, there wasn’t a single Muscadet on the wine list. Biraud changed that, by introducing the clientele of this famous palace hotel to Jo Landron’s Amphibolite. Today, as director of Sur Mesure par Thierry Marx, his winelist includes Amphibolite and 22 other Muscadets. As he told me during an interview,  “Finally, Muscadet is showing everyone that it’s a wine region of great geological complexity – and that Melon, this understated, remarkably transparent grape, is perfectly adapted to transcribing terroir into minerality.”

To learn more about the renaissance of Muscadet, you can check out my article below from this winter in Centurion Magazine – “Muscadet Awakening“: 

© Jeffrey T Iverson, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jeffrey T Iverson with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A History of Gastronomy at the Conciergerie

1378: “The Banquet of Charles V” – image from the Grandes Chroniques de France ©BNF (from the exhibition, Paris, Capitale de la Gastronomie, du Moyen Âge à nos jours, April 13th  – July 16th  2023)… 

When did gastronomy first become one of France’s most potent forms of soft power? That is among the many questions asked at the fascinating new exhibition, Paris, Capitale de la Gastronomie, du Moyen Âge à nos jours, April 13th  – July 16th  2023, at the Conciergerie on Ile de la Cité in Paris. The answer we learn is January 5th, 1378, during an extraordinary banquet held in this very palace by the King of France, Charles V, in hopes of impressing and gaining favour with the Emperor Charles IV of Bohemia and his son, the Prince Wenceslas, Count of Luxembourg and King of the Romans – a repast which took place in this very building, which from the 10th to the 14th century was the seat of power for the Kings of France.

For the historian Bruno Laurioux, the meal represents one of the earliest recorded examples of “gastrodiplomacy”, and though it took place more than 600 years ago, the exposition allows the visitors to appreciate the event in rich detail, presenting the entire sprawling menu and medieval paintings of the meal (like the image above from the 15th century book Grandes Chroniques de France), providing virtual reality reimagining of the scene with a ‘HistoPad’, and for a lucky few, tasting some of the dishes during a sold-out dinner which took place in May, during which the medieval cuisine served at the banquet was recreated. 

The exposition offers a chance to better know France’s first celebrity chef – Guillaume Tirel, known as Taillevent, author of the first French cookbook, Le Viandier, and the man who prepared the banquet for Charles V. The King ordered four courses of forty dishes for the meal, then decided the elderly Emperor might not be up for all that, so he settled for three courses of thirty dishes (oyster stew, capons in a fish salmis, reversed eels, roasted sea bream, salted goose, stuffed figs covered in gold leaf, Boar’s tail, stuffed gilded rabbits, roast mullet with safflower sauce, white almond blancmange…).

Menu written in 1378 for the Banquet of Charles V, prepared by the chef Guillaume Tirel aka Taillevent

As a visitor, it’s a delight to discover this story and then step into the Conciergerie’s still-intact medieval kitchens, which have retained the same configuration they had in the 14th  century when Taillevent cooked this meal here. I admit that while I’ve never been a great fan of the ‘HistoPad’ in exhibitions, but to be able to view each of the kitchen’s four enormous fireplaces as they would have looked when they were all working, each dedicated to a different task (roasted meats, fish, consommés or vegetables) was fascinating, and an example of how the technology can truly help to bring the history of a place to life.

Of course, all this represents only a fraction of the exhibition, which spans the history of gastronomy in France from medieval times to the present day, with looks back at historic meals, and at the restaurants and places which helped make Paris the culinary capital it still is today. 

Here are just a few of the many delicious memories I’ll take away from the exhibition.

La Halle aux poissons, le matin (Les Halles, Paris) 1880, by Victor-Gabriel Gilbert
Le Viandier, 14th century, by Guillaume Tirel (the oldest culinary manuscript in the French language) open to a recipe for Taillevent’s oyster stew, served at the 1378 banquet
L’innocent, 1949 – photo by Robert Doisneau, one of his many photos taken at the lost Les Halles food market of Paris
Portrait of Frédéric Delair, founder of the legendary restaurant La Tour d’Argent
Menu from Café Riche, Paris, 1894
Dîner aux Ambassadeurs, Paris around 1880
Under the vaults of the Conciergerie for Paris, Capitale de la Gastronomie, du Moyen Âge à nos jours (at the Conciergerie in Paris, April 13th  – July 16th  2023)

© Jeffrey T Iverson, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jeffrey T Iverson with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Courage in a Bottle

Karim and Sandro Saadé, founders of the Syrian wine estate Domaine de Bargylus

Like many of you, I was saddened by the reports of the series of earthquakes that struck Turkey and Syria during the month of February. Today, many people in these countries have yet to finish clearing away the wreckage, let alone begin to rebuild. As a lover of great wines and winemakers, the tragedy also made me think of the Saadé family, whose pioneering estate Domaine de Bargylus is the only commercial winery in Syria. Having dedicated more than one article to the Saadés over the years, I’ve developed a deep respect for this family of exceptional winemakers and exceptional survivors. Making a wine of even middling quality in one of the most volatile regions in the world would be an admirable feat, but the Saadés are making what critics Jancis Robinson and Hugh Johnson have called “the finest wine produced in the Eastern Mediterranean”. Every year since 2003 – even after the Syrian war broke out – brothers Karim and Sandro Saadé and their diverse, multi-ethnic, multi-religious team have patiently, passionately produced a vintage at their Syrian wine estate Domaine de Bargylus, while also managing another celebrated estate across the border in Lebanon – Château Marsyas. Now, they’re once again preparing a new vintage while navigating dire straits, something they’ve had to do far too often over the last two decades. As Karim put it in a recent email, “With everything we have been going through the last few years in our middle eastern region, it seems we are reliving the seven plagues of Egypt!”

I first met Karim and Sandro in 2012 at a tasting of their wines in Paris at Caves Legrand, the legendary wine merchant situated in the city’s beautiful Galerie Vivienne shopping arcade. I was impressed with the pair, not just because they spoke French like native speakers, but because the wines were so good – not sun-baked and jammy as I might have expected, but full of freshness and complexity.

In my first article about the Saadés for Syria Deeply, the groundbreaking single issue news website founded in 2012 to cover the Syrian conflict, I wrote, “Karim and Sandro Saadé weren’t born into wine, but if the marks of a good winegrower are the ability to adapt and take in stride the vicissitudes of life and nature, then the Saadés have already proven themselves beyond a doubt to be a pair of natural vignerons.” 

By the time the first shells had landed in their plot of Chardonnay vines, it would have seemed normal for Karim and Sandro to abandon the project. And yet they’ve persevered, drawing inspiration from history and their own family story. The Greek Orthodox Christian ancestors of their Lebanese-Syrian family hailed from the ancient Syrian port city of Laodicea (today Lattakia). Karim and Sandro’s influential ancestors include their great-great grandfather Elias Saadé who revolutionized olive tree cultivation in Syria, but a wave of nationalizations in the early 1960s during the country’s political union with Egypt saw the Saadés lose all their land and factories. Which is in part why the brothers have carried on so tenaciously in this ambitious project to revive a Syrian vineyard on the outskirts of Lattakia. As Sandro puts it, “Bargylus is the land of our origins.”

Yet Bargylus is also a wine that reconnects us with the origins of wine itself. As I wrote in Syria Deeply, “the estate is situated at the heart of the region that gave birth to viticulture. The 20-hectare vineyard is planted at the foot of Jebel Al-Ansariyé, cited as ‘Mount Bargylus’ by Pliny the Elder, and whose slopes were once-covered by vine and olive trees. Wine produced there left the ports of Ougarit and Laodicea to be exported to Egypt, Greece and Rome. So vast was once the production that most of the wine consumed in Alexandria was grown on Mount Bargylus—a history all but forgotten but for a few ancient fermentation tanks dug out of the limestone rock left by the Romans.”

The Temple of Bacchus is one of the best preserved and grandest Roman temple ruins in the world. 150 AD to 250 AD. Heliopolis, Baalbek, Beqaa Valley, Lebanon. © Vyacheslav Argenberg

The links to ancient history are even more visible in Lebanon, whose Bekaa Valley, where the Saadés planted their Château Marsyas estate, was chosen by the Romans as the site of their greatest temple to Bacchus, god of wine, which still stands today. Like the wines of Syria, the wines grown in this soil once enjoyed renown of biblical proportions. (“Israel’s fame will be like the wine of Lebanon,” Hosea 14:7)

Since the beginning of the Syrian War, Karim and Sandro have had to manage the logistics of the day-to-day at Domaine de Bargylus from the relative safety of their offices in Beirut, using taxis to bring samples of grapes from Syria into Lebanon to be tested before harvest. It was just before harvest in August 2020, while the country was already grappling with the COVID pandemic, that a huge reserve of ammonium nitrate being stored at the Port of Beirut exploded. As it turns out, the Saadés’ Beirut offices overlook the port, and were devastated by the blast, leaving Sandro and his father hospitalized. That year, the Saadé brothers’ would manage the harvest from their father’s hospital room. The event spurred me to reach out to the Saadés for a new interview, and the chance learn more about the Eastern Mediterranean wine renaissance they’re working so hard to bring about. This led to an article published in Centurion Magazine in Spring of 2021 entitled “Soul to Soil”.


Naturally, when I learned of the earthquake in Syria and Turkey last month, my thoughts went out to the Saadés. To have to face an earthquake now on top of everything else seems almost ridiculously unjust! After Lattakia was struck on February 20th by the second large earthquake, Karim emailed me an update.

—————————————–

Dear Jeffrey,

Many thanks for your heartfelt message. I deeply appreciate it. 

 …Our staff has reported that many buildings in the city have collapsed. I am still waiting for additional information.

The previous earthquake of February 6th of a magnitude of over 7 also had deadly and destructive repercussions in the Syrian cities of Latakia, Idlib and Aleppo.

The family’s historical mansion of Venetian-ottoman style has been damaged while dozens of buildings have collapsed in the city of Latakia. More importantly, more than a thousand casualties have been reported.

Built around 150 years ago by my great grand-father Gabriel Saadé, it is a listed building, part of which is allocated to Domaine de Bargylus’s offices.

Although relatively minor earthquakes kept on happening for more than twenty days now, we started the consolidation and rehabilitation process. 

The “clipping” process has been implemented to insure that the numerous fissures do not widen. 

This will be followed by a complete rehabilitation process of the building including its Italian-painted ceilings.

So basically, we are managing two vineyards in two countries facing unprecedented economic, security and political crises and located on …a seismic fault 😊 

Best

Karim 

—————————————–

I was moved by Karim’s message, perhaps especially by that final line he wrote describing this dizzying highwire act that managing vineyards in Lebanon and Syria represents, and by that smiling emoji he adds at the end. It somehow encapsulates the Saadés’ enduring optimism, even after events that have clearly shaken them to the core. I can only imagine how it must feel for them to see this symbolic piece of family heritage riddled with cracks, weakened and barely standing after the earthquakes. Yet instead of despairing, they just get on with it, and begin the work of repairing the damage, strengthening the foundations, and returning it to its former beauty, preparing for the day when peace returns to Syria, and the Saadés can return as well. For my part, I’ll continue to share their story and toast to their courage whenever I have the chance.

bargylus.com • chateaumarsyas.com

© Jeffrey T Iverson, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jeffrey T Iverson with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sushi à la Française

IMG_6283

Breton sushi chef Xavier Pensec handling one the extraordinary Japanese knives he uses daily in his restaurant Hinoki

Sushi à la Française

Brittany is one of the most isolated and gastronomically-under-appreciated regions in France, but for curious gourmets this land of wild coastlines and enchanted forests has much to offer – and Breton sushi chef Xavier Pensec is a prime example!

Sushi à la Française? You won’t find it in Paris. To discover this singular delicacy, you’ll need to head to the French department called Le Finistère—literally, ‘the end of the earth’. It’s a 4+hour voyage by train from the French capital to reach the westernmost tip of Brittany. There, in the city of Brest, you’ll find the restaurant named Hinoki.IMG_6124 France boasts numerous brilliant chefs who have chosen isolated locations from which to defend daring cuisines, such as Michel Bras and Olivier Roellinger, and more recently, Eric Guérin and Alexandre Gauthier. But counting among the most audacious must certainly be Xavier Pensec. A native of Brittany, Pensec began feeling the pull of the Far East as a young man. Over the years, he tried to make a living selling Japanese antiques or importing incense. Then, during a visit in Tokyo in his 30s, Pensec discovered the artistry of true sushiya—sushi chefs. Captivated, Pensec enrolled in the Tokyo Sushi Academy, and began making frequent pilgrimages to the cuisine’s greatest masters such as Mizutani and Jiro—whose Tokyo restaurant was the first sushi house to ever receive three Michelin stars (and who was the subject of a splendid documentary). In Tokyo, Pensec met his future wife, Mika Kobayashi, a Japanese food consultant. Together, they came up with a mad plan: to return to France and open up their own restaurant in Pensec’s native Brittany, where they’d try to recreate the kind of sushi that so enthralled them in Tokyo. It was a huge gamble to say the least; Bretons, though historically great explorers and emigrants, ironically don’t have the reputation of being particularly cosmopolitan or drawn to ‘exotic’ foods. Where sushi is found in Brittany it’s inevitably of the banal fast food sort. But what Xavier and Mika created in 2008, in a small former crêperie on the discrete side street of rue des Onze-Martyrs in Brest, was something entirely different.
Pensec transforms the humble Breton sardine into a matter a gastronomy

Pensec transforms the humble Breton sardine into a matter of gastronomy

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The dish that has come to be known around the world as sushi was created in the early 19th century by a chef named Hanaya Yohei in Tokyo. It differed from other versions of sushi in that it was not made with fermented fish (which could be preserved for long periods) but rather with raw fish, freshly-caught from the bay of Tokyo—or Edo, as the city was formerly named. The dish was called Edomae zushi—which could be translated loosely as “sushi from the bay of Tokyo.”

“The true spirit of sushi is about being local,” explained Mika to us during our last visit to Hinoki. “Those who really respect the Edomae spirit have always made sushi according to this tradition of using only local ingredients. Today, many sushi chefs have forgotten this. So I feel we really are trying to continue this tradition, here in Brittany.” Pensec even has a name for this Breton expression of Edomae zushi. “Mae means ‘in front of’,” says Pensec. “So you could say here we are making Finistère-mae sushi.”
IMG_6130

Pensec grating fresh wasabi root

That aptly describes this new and—for now at least—unquestionably unique cuisine that Xavier and Mika have created: sushi that is at once faithfully Japanese and fundamentally French, and more specifically, Breton. Pensec may import premium Japanese rice and the finest wasabi root grown, but don’t expect Mediterranean red tuna or Norwegian farmed salmon to be on the menu. Sushi made from trout filet and eggs from rivers in the nearby forests of the monts d’Arrée; line-caught sea bream or bonito from Concarneau; langoustine royale from the port of Guilvinec; scallops from the bay of Brest—these are the flavors of Finistère-mae sushi. Indeed, with the exception of a few incredible imports, all of Pensec’s seafood comes from the ocean ‘in front’ of his restaurant, as do most of the other ingredients. “My wife is always saying, one day we won’t use soy sauce any more,” he says. “She wants us to use 100% local ingredients.”
Mika punctuates the sushi omakase with small dishes such as her fish broth and salads of seaweed and tomatoes, and closes the meal with green tea ice cream topped with grilled Breton buckwheat.

Mika punctuates a sushi omakase at Hinoki with small dishes, such as a fish broth and salads of seaweed and tomatoes, before closing the meal with green tea ice cream topped with grilled Breton buckwheat.

The locavore commitment can be exhausting. Pensec often works 14 hours a day, up before dawn to meet fishermen returning with their catch at ports all along the coast of Finistère—Portsall, Loctudy, Le Guilvinec, Roscoff, Concarneau… Xavier and Mika share a different philosophy about fishing with the Breton fisherman they meet, and slowly are convincing some to adopt Japanese techniques such as the Ikejime method for humanely killing fish immediately after capture—a technique which has the additional benefit of greatly improving the flesh quality. Pensec chooses a fish based on its freshness, but also depending on the season of the year. If the catch on a given day doesn’t meet his exacting standards, Pensec won’t hesitate to call clients with reservations and ask them to come another day.
Pensec creating sushi from some extraordinary langoustine

Pensec creating sushi from some extraordinary langoustine

On our last visit to Hinoki, Pensec prepared a true Breton Omakase (a chef’s choice dinner), preparing us sushi one by one and astounding us with the diversity of the seafood to be found in the waters around Finistère. In addition to some of the finest imported salmon and shrimp I’ve ever eaten (wild Alaskan Sockeye and Irish organic-farmed salmon as well as Obsiblue prawns from New Caledonia), Pensec served gilt-head bream (Fr. dorade), Jack mackerel (chinchard), sardine, sole, clams, smooth clams (vernis), octopus, mackerel, langoustine royale and lobster. HinokiSushiX12
At Hinoki, the octopus is massaged for an hour

At Hinoki, the octopus is massaged for an hour

Pensec often serves fish prepared more than one way—straight up raw, with a dab of fresh ginger and chives or fresh grated wasabi, marinated shime saba style, or pressed for hours between fresh leaves of Breton seaweed. The fabulous consistency of the octopus is attained by massaging it continuously for one hour, an arduous technique Pensec borrowed from the kitchens of Jiro. The sake served at Hinoki has all the fruit aromas, complexity and length on the palate of fine white wine (of which they have an ample supply as well). The tea is selected from the collections of Tokyo tea sommelier Yoshi Watada, including some of the rarest, most exclusive teas in Japan, representing a handful of kilos out of a plantation’s entire harvest (and typically only used in Japan for competitions between tea producers!).
Mika displays Hinoki's rare teas

Mika displays Hinoki’s rare teas

In all, dinner at Hinoki is a revelation, a glorious feast for the senses. Pensec rolls rice balls and spreads dabs of wasabi with the grace of a dancer. Even his simplest sushi are exquisite. He notably transforms the humble Breton sardine into a matter of serious gastronomy—the filets and rice, perfectly pleasing in texture and temperature, brushed with Pensec’s secret sauce and topped just with a speck of ginger and chives, make for a divine mouthful. And to ponder the history, the passion, the savoir-faire behind every bite, it’s no exaggeration to say that a piece of Pensec’s sushi, glistening on a slab of marble, is a small work of art. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J89tXbYcTtY With their abundant, palpable talent, their impeccable sourcing and locavore philosophy, Mika and Xavier would seem to have come up with a jackpot business plan, so much Hinoki shares in spirit with many of the restaurants currently the talk of the international food scene. “We really hope so, but then again we live at the end of the world,” says Mika. “So it’s difficult to share [what we are doing] with international people.” Mika was making a good living as a food consultant in Tokyo, but for now the couple often struggles to bring home more than the equivalent of a minimum wage, so steep are the costs associated with the ingredients they use, and so few are the number of reservations they accept, so as to be able to create the kind of intimate, immersive experience they want for visitors. “Yes, we might lose a lot of money this year, but we decided to do it this way,” says Pensec. “We can’t do it ‘medium rare’—it’s all or nothing.”
Pensec's lobster sushi, with with lobster roe

Lobster sushi, topped with lobster roe

The risks Pensec takes, the potency and fragility of his project, brings to mind many of the most dynamic figures that’s I’ve met in French gastronomy today—men and women driven by passion to create wines, cultivate products and imagine cuisines which are far from guaranteed they will find a market. And yet somehow many of them do, and I have to believe Xavier and Mika will too. When I last came to Hinoki, the Japanese ambassador to France was coming over the weekend to welcome a Japanese boat to port in Brest, and would be dining at Hinoki with his whole delegation. In the last year and a half, notably since Xavier appeared as a guest chef for an event at the Sake Bar in Paris, increasingly journalists are making the trek out to Brest to discover Hinoki for themselves. The French gastronomic press seems to finally be waking to this phenomenal new cuisine that has emerged far outside Paris-centric food scene. I hope still more will make that trek soon, and that one day soon Mika and Xavier will have the international clientele of foodies they deserve. Traveling gourmets may naturally think that sushi is about the last thing they would come to France for, but I think that anyone who is interested by the questions about food, culture and identity that are fueling creativity in many top restaurants around the world today will find sitting down to an omakase dinner at Hinoki an enthralling ride. IMG_6236

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Pensec is the grandson of a Breton fisherman, but it took traveling half way across the world and immersing himself in a completely foreign culture and tradition for him to finally reconnect with his own roots, to rediscover his people’s age-old bond to the ocean—a bond not unlike the one Japanese have. Ironically, it’s perhaps because today he feels more Breton than ever before that he is now able to create some of the finest ‘Edomae’ sushi outside of Japan.

As the great Paris-based, Tokyo-born food writer Chihiro Masui put it, “it’s in wanting to reproduce the pure Japanese tradition that he succeeded in the impossible: creating the first true sushi français. Or should I say breton?” The perfect sushi of Mizutani and Jiro that continue to inspire Xavier Pensec may still be an ocean away, but maybe the success and recognition he deserves is not so far off anymore. Masui, for one, is convinced: “I would not be surprised if one day he joined the ranks of the best sushiya in the world.”

—Jeffrey T Iverson

Video: C’est bien que vous soyez venu … from photographer and filmmaker Tibo Dhermy

Hinoki

6, rue des Onze Martyrs

29200 Brest

Tel. +33 (0)2 98 43 23 68

sushinoki.fr

sushinoki.tumblr.com

© Jeffrey T Iverson, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jeffrey T Iverson with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.