Haute Potatoes

If your idea of a good French meal is a butter croissant and café au lait, then read on. Maggie Tiojakin tickles her taste-buds at a South Jakarta restaurant-cum-cooking studio to learn more about the feted French flair in the kitchen.

In the recently released Pixar animated film Ratatouille, which features a country rat’s journey toward his life-long dream at becoming a major chef in Paris, the world of French cuisine is peeled, minced and sautéed along with its kitchen politics.

But what is it about this cuisine that makes it worthy of two hours’ screen time? And what makes the French such experts on food and the restaurant business?  

Well, first, the concept of a restaurant as we know it today originated in the culture which once thrived under the notorious leadership of Napoleon Bonaparte. Second, the French, more than anyone else in the world,  are obsessed with the way their food tastes and looks.

And, third, if you’re crazy about their wine, you must try the food.

Luckily, you won’t have to go too far for a taste of France. Located at Jl. Senopati No. 39, a short drive from Jakarta’s business district, Emilie restaurant offers you the ultimate fine-dining experience.

Designed by one of the country’s most sought-after architects-cum-interior designers, Jaya Ibrahim, Emilie reminds you what restaurants often lack nowadays: intimacy.

Moreover, it also offers an irresistible choice of wines and, most importantly, top-quality authentic French dishes presented impeccably by chef de cuisine Gérald Genson, who manages a kitchen brigade of 10 staffers per shift.

Genson is not a newcomer to the world of French cuisine; in fact, it is his life’s calling. From a small town near Nice to the elegant kitchen of Grand Hotel Du Cap Ferrat to the St. Louis Club in Missouri, where he studied under former White House executive chef Pierre Chambrin, Genson continues to master the art of his nation’s cuisine.

“The first key is to love what you do,” he says on the second floor of Emilie, a cooking studio since last August, while preparing the appetizer-of-the-week: le saumon marine (whiskey marinated salmon with sour cream and toast).

“If you don’t like to cook, you can’t master the art.”

Watching him marinate the pieces of minced salmon with drops of whiskey and small dollops of sour cream, it seems like a small feat. But there is much more to cooking than meets the eye. One of the most crucial elements in French cuisine is presentation and for Genson, who is said to be a perfectionist, presentation is key.

“You want [the food] to look good,” he mutters, while garnishing the bite-sized salmon dish with salmon roe. “And taste great.”

It certainly satisfies both requirements. Served with toasted potato chips, the salmon tastes like something from Escoffier’s Le Guide Culinaire. The salmon is fresh and the sour cream melts in my mouth almost as quickly as it touches my tongue, while the whiskey adds a sweet spark which makes the salmon that much more delectable.

Next comes the entrée: l’agneau de quercy, sliced roasted leg of lamb served with paloise sauce (classic barnaise using mint instead of tarragon) and pomme dauphine (croquettes made by combining potato purée and cream puff pastry dough).

The process takes Genson from 10 to 15 minutes, which he says is the usual time for an entrée. He makes sure the lamb is moist and not overcooked. Once the lamb is done, he carefully places it on a cutting board and slices the leg into several pieces before arranging it on a serving plate over sautéed greenbeans.

He drizzles olive oil over the lamb, while garnishing a bowl of paloise sauce with mint leaves and placing a small jar of pomme dauphine next to the marinated lamb.

Finally, l’agneau de quercy is ready to eat.

“It is a young lamb,” says Genson, systematically starting the cleaning process — he likes to keep his station spotless. “It doesn’t have a very strong scent, and it tastes a little milky.” 

Usually not a big fan of lamb, I quickly become a convert to the meat after sampling a few bites of the entrée. The sautéed greenbeans are tender but retain their crunchiness; the lamb does have a milky taste to it, but the paloise sauce gives it a mild minty kick that is ideal with the potatoes.

For dessert, Emilie offers a wide array of sweet temptations, from the chef’s special chocolate fondant (chocolate cake with melted Valrhona in the middle) to a classic Grand Marnier Soufflé, served warm.

At the end of the gastronomic experience, one is left to wonder what it takes for an ordinary cook whose best patrons are friends and family members to master the art of French cuisine. Is it possible for a lay-person, such as myself, to one day dazzle my dinner guests with a plate of quiche forestiére (classic variation of wild mushroom quiche) or tarte bordalou (a poached-pear cream tart)?

Genson says: Why not?

More than just a restaurant, Emilie now runs a monthly cooking class on Wednesdays and Saturdays led by the chef de cuisine himself (and visiting guest chefs from around the world). Equipped with state-of-the-art kitchenware and cooking utensils, Studio Emilie opens its doors to those wanting to learn the art of haute cuisine.

“Bring your friends, have fun and learn something new over the weekends,” says Emilie’s co-founder, Leiny Siman. To ensure quality, each class will have no more than eight students.

“Once you’ve moved past the notion of how intimidating French cuisine can be,” chimes in Wahjudi Rahardja, another co-founder of the restaurant-cum-studio, “you’ll see that it’s like any other cuisine—simple, tasty and quite easy to make at home.”

There is hope, after all. As chef Gusteau reassures the rat in the movie, “Anyone can cook.”