L'impertinent - Biarritz

The kitchen is creative. Associations are imaginative, sometimes ostentatious: watermelon and cow cheese; grilled octopus, tomatoes and celery; louvine, melon,... read more The kitchen is creative. Associations are imaginative, sometimes ostentatious: watermelon and cow cheese; grilled octopus, tomatoes and celery; louvine, melon, potatoes purée, fermented onion. The presentations allow for a good readability and enhancement of the main product of the plate. The particularity of this establishment is therefore centered around assumed proposals, with surprising reliefs, which justify the gastronomic getaway and give it meaning. The flavours are in turn surprising, sometimes insolent, but the pleasure always remains the nodal point of the experience. It is a gastronomy of escape, at times of percussion, that has been able to steal from dessert, where fishing seems more peripheral than central, without the experience of gustative change in being ternie. The service is perfect, attentive without artifices, fluid without being presteered. The experience was therefore original, modern, allowing a parenthesis to measure the proposed rates. The wines are delicate and offer a significant extension of the ambitions of the plate. Try, for surprise and originality, to live a gastronomic moment that notices and will remain in memory.

A detour is required if you come to Biarritz A delight of taste buds for creative cuisine Service at the top read more A detour is required if you come to Biarritz A delight of taste buds for creative cuisine Service at the top

Mixtures of very surprising flavors inviting to travel. Everything was excellent and hearty. Very friendly staff. read more Mixtures of very surprising flavors inviting to travel. Everything was excellent and hearty. Very friendly staff.

We arrived in a state best described as “respectably peckish” and left floating somewhere between delirium and enlightenment—somewhat financially less well off,... read more We arrived in a state best described as “respectably peckish” and left floating somewhere between delirium and enlightenment—somewhat financially less well off, yes, but spiritually fortified and possibly in love with a blue lobster. It all began with a Negroni (mine, bitter as regret but twice as rewarding) and a Kir (hers, charming and deceptively cheerful). Then: a trio of amuse-gueules, clearly crafted by someone with a PhD in anticipation-building. Just as I began calculating how many of those it would take to equal dinner, the amuse-bouche arrived—a sliver of tuna resting on a base of cucumber that tasted like summer. Subtle, elegant, perfectly balanced. ⸻ Act I Next came the lobster—or rather, a duet of lobster. One, gently wood-fired and lounging beside white peach, basil, and fennel. A dish dancing between sweetness and smoke. The other, a ravioli so delicate it could have doubled as haute couture, floating in a foam that whispered of cream, seashores, and some light French sorcery. Act I played out like a duet—each part elevating the other in perfect harmony. ⸻ Act II A three-part fish opera: First, grilled green beans in a smoked yogurt sauce—a lesson in how simple can still be sublime. Next: the tuna itself, seared and served over a spicy sauce tinged with habanero. Alongside, a small tartare so fresh it made my life shimmer a little brighter for just a short moment. By this point, I wasn’t eating—I was leading a one-man rescue mission, bread in hand, determined to liberate every last trace of bean sauce before it made a clean getaway across the porcelain. ⸻ Act III The Kintoa pork followed—succulent, beautifully lacquered, served with summer truffle, sweet onion, and a deep, earthy sauce that begged for more wine. We obliged, of course. At this stage, I should note that the wine pairings were not only excellent and generous—but also largely responsible for my rising sense of joy and general goodwill toward the universe. ⸻ Act IV Then came dessert—because what better way to conclude a culinary saga than with sorbet, lemon granita, black bean cream (don’t ask, just surrender), and ice cream made from blue poppy seeds and a sense of wonder? All this accompanied by Éclipse, a sparkling wine that tasted like a Nordic summer night—brief, luminous, and utterly enchanting. ⸻ And then, bliss. Petits fours arrived like tiny edible punctuation marks. Espresso was served. Someone poured something amber into a glass shaped like a poem. And for a few luminous minutes, time stopped caring about itself. ⸻ The verdict: It was a journey from sea to land, a beautifully choreographed story of contrasting flavors and colors. Every dish was a new chapter, every sip a supporting verse. Three young mademoiselles conducted the evening with wit and grace, ensuring everything flowed with quiet precision. It was a dinner to remember, firmly placing Biarritz on our culinary map forever. Thank you for a lovely evening and experience.

Thank you so much for this star-studded feast, where every bite was a work of art and every flavor an emotion. A memory vividly etched. read more Thank you so much for this star-studded feast, where every bite was a work of art and every flavor an emotion. A memory vividly etched.