To many, French cuisine is rightfully considered some of the best in the world. The French, for all their many flaws, know their way around the kitchen.
And he who knows it arguably better than anyone else is the 76-year-old Frenchman; self-taught and has taught Heston Blumenthal and Marco Pierre White a thing or two in his time.
Blanc today is very much now Oxford’s own having opened up his first restaurant Les Quat’Saisons in Summertown in 1977 where he still lives now.
Steak tartare at Brasserie Blanc (Image: Matt Simpson)
Today, he doesn’t directly own the hugely successful Brasserie Blanc business but his French DNA runs deep through it.
Take the steak tartare it serves, for example. On paper it’s a fairly simple dish to make consisting of finely chopped raw beef mixed with capers, shallots, Dijon mustard and egg yolk.
But it relies heavily on having the freshest ingredients to really stand out, which Brasserie Blanc does.
Unlike another restaurant in Oxford I ate at recently not for a newspaper review, which I will not name.
Brasserie Blanc’s chefs absolutely wipe the floor with anyone else, not least the well-established restaurant elsewhere in the city.
The reason why Brasserie Blanc excels on its food, as evidenced by the steak tartare, is because it has stuck to its core value: to celebrate fresh, seasonal ingredients.
Duck served at Brasserie Blanc (Image: Matt Simpson)
Rabbit, mashed potato, bacon and French beans at Brasserie Blanc (Image: Matt Simpson)
The French celebration continued with the main when the rabbit arrived at the table.
Having never eaten Bugs Bunny, it’s difficult to fully explain whether it was comparatively good or not.
All I can report is that the next time I do order Peter or Roger from the menu, the bar has been set very high indeed.
Certainly, the leg meat was melt-in-your-mouth perfection, fall-of-the-bone delightful and the beating heart to any love letter to French cooking.
Rhubarb crumble at Brasserie Blanc (Image: Matt Simpson)
Coupled with the ultra-smooth mashed potato, French beans and mustard sauce, it made me want to sail across the channel, grow a moustache and roll the bottom of my jeans up.
After eating the main, I fancied a smoking a cigarette before driving to the nearest Citroen dealership in my beret to buy myself a 2CV.
It was a shame I was driving back home many miles away, though, because a glass of French wine would’ve gone down an absolute treat.
Brasserie Blanc offers its diners the art de vivre philosophy; an evening of utter pleasure, celebration and delight. A true love letter to the food of the nation we can only ever secretly adore.
Dining and Cooking