I recently indulged myself with a spoon of Pommes purée, and I for one have never experienced such tears of joy this presented me with.
The rush of emotions that flooded in me, it’s hard to describe.
I for one nibbled at what was in the spoon, and that small nibble performed a small melody on my palate which led to me stuffing the rest of what was on the spoon in my mouth and licking it clean. At first, the fluffy potato touched my tongue and as I let it melt in my mouth, the butter, oh butter, hit my palate and it was a moment of pure sensual nirvana.It took me a few minutes to gather myself back and rush to the bowl full of it. People around me criticizing the butter in it or the texture and acting all pompous and pretentious even though they went for seconds as well. But all of my annoyance with those people was out there in another world, like a muffled voice in a blizzard. For it was just me and the purée.
The funny part of all of this is that the chef who cooked up the heavenly purée also prepared a tasting course menu the previous year which I attended. Each course was such a delight that I proudly in the daze of all the food I was eating, said that I wanted to kiss the chef behind the meal.
To turn something that is commonly used as an accompaniment into something that would make you forget completely about your main dish takes absolute brilliance.
Who’d have thought that one day, I’d substitute ice-cream for Pommes purée as my comfort food. The rich butter, it’s completely bizarre madness. It’s more like potatoes in butter.
P.S. – The chef paid credit to Joël Robuchon. The Grand Master.
P.P.S – http://www.joel-robuchon.net/