Le Pavillon
230 Salt Point Turnpike (Rte 115)
Poughkeepsie, NY 12603
Phone: 845 473 2525
www.lepavillonrestaurant.com
Dinner Tuesday through Saturday
This restaurant is currently closed.
Poughkeepsie's le Pavillon first opened its doors in 1980. Its hard to believe, but it has been thirty years. It is named after New York's le Pavillon, the iconic Manhattan eatery which closed in 1971, credited with introducing fine French dining to the United States after the 1939 World's Fair. I recall the buzz surrounding the opening at the time (in 1980, not 1939!), although I don't think the term “buzz” was in vogue back then. The proprietor and chef at the new restaurant was Claude Guermont, who had made his reputation locally as an instructor at the Culinary Institute in Hyde Park. He was leaving the classroom to strike out on his own.
230 Salt Point Turnpike (Rte 115)
Poughkeepsie, NY 12603
Phone: 845 473 2525
www.lepavillonrestaurant.com
Dinner Tuesday through Saturday
This restaurant is currently closed.
Poughkeepsie's le Pavillon first opened its doors in 1980. Its hard to believe, but it has been thirty years. It is named after New York's le Pavillon, the iconic Manhattan eatery which closed in 1971, credited with introducing fine French dining to the United States after the 1939 World's Fair. I recall the buzz surrounding the opening at the time (in 1980, not 1939!), although I don't think the term “buzz” was in vogue back then. The proprietor and chef at the new restaurant was Claude Guermont, who had made his reputation locally as an instructor at the Culinary Institute in Hyde Park. He was leaving the classroom to strike out on his own.
Just this last Wednesday I had occasion to visit with Claude, as I was joining a group for a wine tasting luncheon at the restaurant, and the chef was preparing a meal to accompany the selections, all white Burgundies.
This wine group has collected monthly at le Pavillon for almost twenty years, sharing meals, and stories, really bad jokes, and the contents of their wine cellars. I am fortunate to be asked to join the group on occasion and I do so as often as my schedule permits. Some of these afternoon soirees have turned into most memorable occasions, as Claude's specially prepared meals are always worth taking an afternoon off for. Ostensibly, the reason for the lunch is to sample the wines selected for the day's tasting, and the crew that assembles here is unfailingly generous with their cellar offerings. The group's original focus was on Burgundy, but they frequently venture into new territory. The group consists of eight or ten diners, who are asked to bring one bottle representative of the day's theme. It could be based on single vintage from a specific region, or as was the case Wednesday, white Burgundies, Premier Cru or better. You could show up with a village wine, but you would not be invited back. Claude is made aware of the wine selections for the day, and prepares a course to match each wine. We will usually end up with eight participants and eight bottles of wine. That sounds like a lot, but spread over four hours it all works out well. Everyone gets four ounces of every wine. I arrived a little early on Wednesday, which gave me an opportunity to catch up with Claude, who met me in the parking lot as I pulled in.
This wine group has collected monthly at le Pavillon for almost twenty years, sharing meals, and stories, really bad jokes, and the contents of their wine cellars. I am fortunate to be asked to join the group on occasion and I do so as often as my schedule permits. Some of these afternoon soirees have turned into most memorable occasions, as Claude's specially prepared meals are always worth taking an afternoon off for. Ostensibly, the reason for the lunch is to sample the wines selected for the day's tasting, and the crew that assembles here is unfailingly generous with their cellar offerings. The group's original focus was on Burgundy, but they frequently venture into new territory. The group consists of eight or ten diners, who are asked to bring one bottle representative of the day's theme. It could be based on single vintage from a specific region, or as was the case Wednesday, white Burgundies, Premier Cru or better. You could show up with a village wine, but you would not be invited back. Claude is made aware of the wine selections for the day, and prepares a course to match each wine. We will usually end up with eight participants and eight bottles of wine. That sounds like a lot, but spread over four hours it all works out well. Everyone gets four ounces of every wine. I arrived a little early on Wednesday, which gave me an opportunity to catch up with Claude, who met me in the parking lot as I pulled in.
From the day that the restaurant first opened, le Pavillon has been one of my favorites, and it still is. Too many people think of it as a white linen, “haute cuisine” fine dining establishment. Most regulars don't feel that way. Claude will tell you that its more of a “country” restaurant. You can relax and enjoy yourself at le Pavillon without four waiters staring at you from tableside. The service is professional and competent without being overbearing or “stuffy”. Certainly the menu is more upscale than a neighborhood bistro menu, but the atmosphere is welcoming and friendly, bordering on casual. Claude will always find his way out from the kitchen to say hello. Claude's wife Eli is frequently on hand to greet guests. Both of their children took their turns working at the restaurant until they saw how many hours their parents put into the place. The restaurant business is not an easy life; you really have to love it. You and I look forward to a weekend. For a restaurateur there is no such thing as “weekends off” (unless they want to be out of business soon). Ditto most holidays. Thankfully there are people like Claude out there who love it and do it well. I hope they love it; they've been feeding us at le Pavillon for thirty years!
This morning I rummaged through my files and found a menu from the 1980's when I was writing for the Poughkeepsie Journal, and Claude had just opened the doors. I was not at all surprised to see that most of le Pavillon's current dishes were available back then. All of the appetizer “standards” are still here – escargot in garlic sauce, foie gras, coquille St Jacques, frogs legs, pate le campagne (although on the 1980 menu the pate was $5!) Thankfully some things never change. Classics are classics.
On Wednesday we each started with two glasses of wine, both 2002's – a Chanson Clos des Mouches, and a Vincent Girardin Puligny-Montrachet. The tastings are usually designed in “flights” starting with the “lesser” offerings and working up to the big guns later in the meal. Sometimes its hard to decide where a wine should be placed in the pecking order, and the selection of great wines Wednesday made the flight selections especially difficult. To accompany the wines Claude's first offering was one of his signature dishes - a coquille style plate of scallops and salmon, topped with a puffed pastry. We were off to a great start.
Twenty years of these wine tastings have taught me much about wines, but one thing about wine tasting – that we take it much too seriously. Tasting wine, like tasting anything else, is highly subjective. If you don't care for California style chardonnay you are not going to enjoy a bottle of Berringer, even if Wine Spectator and Robert Parker say it is rated a 90 whatever. Your tastes are your tastes. You might not like what Parker likes. Your tastes however will probably change, and more importantly, wine changes. Constantly. From the moment it is first fermented. Wine will change in the bottle while it is aging and it will change – sometimes a lot - after you open it. At these tastings we have had an opportunity to taste the same wines over and over, setting up lunches to revisit different vintages year after year. It is amazing how wines mature from one year to the next. The same wine, aged in different cellars (under slightly different conditions) will taste completely different. Obviously something stored ten years under optimum conditions – temperature and humidity controlled – will taste different, and probably better, than a wine you stuck in the back of your bedroom closet for a decade. Wines stored in two different climate controlled cellars can mature differently. Even after a bottle is opened, it will go through changes as it re-oxygenates, especially big tannic reds that have a lot of age in the bottle. Going back to re-taste the bottle over a few hours can show tremendous – not at all subtle – changes in nose and flavors. At the end of our tastings it is a very rare event when we all unanimously agree on which was the best wine - and there are some pretty sophisticated palates in the group (present company excluded). Which brings me to my point – take all of this wine rating stuff with a BIG grain of salt. Yes, certain producers make consistently great wines, BUT no two glasses of the same wine will taste exactly the same, unless they are poured from the same bottle at the same time. We should also always be mindful of the fact that we are, after all, just talking about fermented grape juice. (I read that someplace recently. I like it a lot.)
Moving along with our lunch, we opened a few more bottles – an 02 Meursault Generieres and a really nice 2001 Chanson Corton Vergennes which Claude paired with a fresh cod and potato gratinee, which was a perfect match. The wines reminded us of the vast difference stylisticly between French and California chardonnay. All of these wines use the same chardonnay grape, but the end product could not differ more than its California cousin. Again – not necessarily better or worse, that's your personal preference - just different. French style chards are much crisper - “cleaner” - with less oak and there is none of the silky buttery mouth feel imparted by a melolactic fermentation used in many west coast chardonnays. I personally prefer the french style but that's just me.
We finished with a 97 Bertagna Vougeot Blanc, the oldest wine at the tasting, and a 2002 Louis Latour Corton Charlemagne, a Cote de Beaune Grand Cru. Our main course of roast chicken arrived as we were all nodding, and smiling in agreement, that the Corton Charlemagne was a standout, and well worth waiting for. We were pleasantly surprised that none of the wines – despite, for whites, their advancing age – were corked or past prime. All were most enjoyable and still in good shape. I suspect that none had been stored in back of the bedroom closet. After three decades in the kitchen at
le Pavillon Claude Guermont is still at the top of his game. We look forward to many more years of his cooking, and his company.
