A Tuesday at Ciçou
Tuesdays are sacrosanct to my darleng Mary Anne. It is her day reserved for her lunch date with our son Nico who’s studying in Manila. I, too, have come to revere these Tuesday lunches; not only am I a too-willing participant but also trying out a new restaurant each time excites me no end. Senate hearings are also her passion. And the longer they are the better for her. I do not and will never understand the enjoyment (near obsession, I’d say) she gets from it, that she would declare the day a holiday and stay glued to the TV with explicit instructions to be disturbed only if the house is on fire. And to make sure she doesn’t miss a beat on the hearings, she has her snacks (meringue, potato chips, butong pakwan, in that order) and Coke within arm’s reach from her lazy couch. And make that no phone calls, please.
You can just imagine her dilemma when the next Senate hearing was scheduled on a Tuesday and her adverse reaction when I told her the delicious news that my friend chef Cyrille Soenen had invited us to lunch at his newly opened Ciçou (pronounced “see-sue,” his childhood nickname) in Hotel Celeste in Makati on that same day. Quite reluctantly, she put aside the Senate hearings but only agreed to say yes to the Ciçou lunch if Nico could join us. And that is exactly what happened, with chef Cyrille’s permission, of course. I guess my ever-accommodating French friend and I have the same motto — i.e. never argue with the wife.
To me, chef Cyrille is worth disturbing my wife’s lunch plans. Not only do we enjoy his cooking, we very much like him as a person. I first met Cyrille in 2001 when I was a guest chef at Prince Albert Rotisserie of InterConinental Manila. Cyrille was then its executive chef. As we were introduced, the first thing he said was: “’Ow do you do?” And without missing a beat, he added: “’Ave you heaten?” Spoken like a true Frenchman. I was immediately disarmed and felt sincere warmth for the guy — it was like meeting a long-lost kabalen (Pampango for town mate). Was it perhaps because we spoke the same language? (F)un intended. Needless to say, my month-long stint at Prince Albert went by like a breeze. We spent such long hours at the chef’s table exchanging food stories and trying each other’s cooking. The Franco-Pampango alliance was sealed. The collaboration resulted in such dishes as pakô or fiddlehead fern salad with ulang (freshwater prawns) in balsamic vinaigrette, foie gras lumpia, talangka risotto, lamb shank kare-kare, etc. Now, chef Cyrille opened his own restaurant. “I wonder how different it would be from his food at the Prince Albert and 7 Corners Café?” Mary Ann asked. You see, when he was moved to the Crowne Plaza in Ortigas as the executive chef, he impressed his diners with his delicious duck liver ravioli soup and chocolate pizza on the buffet. I, too, was very curious about what a man whose 18 professional years as a chef, nine of which were as chef de partie at the Ritz Hotel, Duc Denghien, Le Drouant and Le Grand Hotel Intercontinental Paris, all rated with Michelin stars, would have in store for this meal.
The nine-course lunch chef Cyrille prepared for us was a preview of his Valentine dinner’s special. For our amuse bouche, he served us slates of pork head pâté (much like a cold sisig gelatin) and rillette (minced pork pâté) on toasts. By the way, amuse bouche literally means “mouth amuser,” and refers to those bite-sized hors d’œuvres, not quite appetizers, that are normally served prior to the soup and are not listed on the menu. They are the chef’s inspired tidbits given for free to regular customers.
After the amuse bouche, chef Cyrille served us a trio of cold seafood dishes that could very well serve as appetizers or first courses. These were served with a chilled Chardonnay, a Viré-Clessé: Cuvee Tradition EJT 2003. First to come was the fresh sardines marinated in olive oil and herbs with tiny cubes of goat cheese. The slices of fish fillet are so fresh and firm, so reminiscent of the Spanish boquerones en vinagre, or our kinilaw if you may. We just couldn’t resist wiping off the last droplet of the herbed olive oil with the freshly baked bread, its flavor heightened by the goat’s cheese. Next came the shredded king crab meat with coriander coulis in a crustacean aspic and cauliflower cream. Being allergic to crustaceans, I had to go by my Darleng’s word — it tasted like a cold shark’s fin soup, and a good one at that. The third was a plate of bean sprout risotto with a roasted sea scallop and a shaving of jamon serrano. The short bean sprouts gave an unexpected crunch to the soft creamy risotto, while the combination of salty toasted jamon added “oomph” to the moist succulent scallop.
The first of the hot dishes followed in the form of a deep-fried round ball that looked very much like a mini woven rattan sipa. If one were to eat it with one’s hand, with the first bite comes a creamy choco truffle-like oozing out of the ball. It’s a damned good foie gras de canard (duck liver) encased in a so-crisp basket-woven with kamote strings, served with pomelo confit (preserved suha peelings) and onion compote. This must be one of the most sensual experiences I’ve had at the dining table, befitting a pas de deux on Valentine’s Day, as chef Cyrille promises to serve two pieces, not just one as we were served that fateful Tuesday. It left me hankering for more. The sweet Moelleux 2005 from Bergerac, southwest France, came as a perfect foil to the rich, buttery foie gras. The thought of booking a room at Hotel Celeste for Feb. 14, ordering from room service a dozen foie gras balls in lieu of roses (they may just be as costly and, after all, one can’t eat roses) and a bottle of chilled Moelleux was so tempting a treat for my Darleng and I, that it’s a good thing it doesn’t fall on a Tuesday this year!
The next hot number was a demitasse of tasty cream of lentil soup with a truffled quenelle of chicken. It was a nice respite from the previous heady experience. A light roasted cod fish with garlic confit on a bed of mashed beans followed that went easily with a Pouilly Fumé Sauvignon Blanc.
For the coup de grâce, another heartbeat stopper came in the guise of a pie — a freshly baked duck breast and duck liver turnover. The duck breast (magret) and liver had been stewed in a stock reduction, making it a truly savory filling to the crisp and flaky puff-pastry shell. This could be the civilized version of the Brit steak and kidney pie, if I may say so. It was served with a bunch of crunchy haricot vert or French beans. A Chassagne Montrachet Pino Noir accompanied it.
For dessert, we had a chocolate-coated passion fruit mouse with pan-fried fresh strawberries. It was a nice ending to an intoxicating afternoon of excellent food, wine and company. The enjoyment we had seeing Cyrille and his wife Anna Gaston “home” at last was worth all the hard-fought convincing I had to do with my Darleng. But I guess the best telltale sign of it all is there never was a mention again about the Senate hearing that fateful Tuesday.
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Restaurant Ciçou, Hotel Celeste, San Lorenzo Drive corner Arnaiz St. (Pasay Road), Makati City. Phone: 889-6728.
