Le Grand Monarque - Best Western, Chartres

Accustomed as I am to jet-setting and generally hob-nobbing among the rich, famous and celebrity class, I recently travelled into the heart of the continental bag of pick-and-mix that is France. I knew my trip would start well when I passed White Dee in Charles de Gaulle airport, oh yeah - 'cos that's the way I roll.

After that grade-A start, a while later I pulled into the lovely town of Chatres and impressed upon my travelling companion the very urgent need for dinner. Unfortunately, the classically French menu was accompanied with a classically French form of customer service with a waitress who, despite sporting a badge which proclaimed she could speak English, spoke entirely in French. Now, please don't get me wrong at this point. I've got no problem in fumbling m way through a foreign menu, after all, trying new things is one of my favourite pastimes. However, things go a lot smoother if they come with a smile.

I started with the pate, but I was not expecting the goliath portion of pork pie that came instead. The smooth pate in the centre was creamy and clearly well made but it was the jelly that really got my attention:

Dark and full of peppery porky flavour, this immense slice of pie was studded with fat and course ground meat. The pastry was short and crumbly but coming back to that jelly, it really was a thing of beauty.

As you all know, I don't usually order steak outside of France. And therefore, when I France I should be obliged to order it whenever appropriate.

Ordering a rare steak is difficult when your accent is as English as mine. Waiting staff simply don't believe you and try to give you medium instead. If you press the point, as I enviably tend to do, and see the example of a French 'rare' you'll understand our national reticence.

      
However, I for one refuse to be beaten by such things. Wipe it's bum, show it the grill then stick it on my plate and I'm a happy man. My usual problem with chips reared up again though - these were well fried, well seasoned and thin but did nothing to break up the heavy protein of the steak. The same charge can be levied against the hollandaise, a beautiful example of why French cuisine is the cause of more heart attacks than any other (this is perhaps not an absolutely true statement).

I was relieved then when I had the opportunity to cleanse with a good sorbet.

This one was lemon and contained preserved lemon rind which added some delicious texture as well as a good dose of bitterness to the sweet and ice.

The final verdict on Le Grand Monarque? Well, as I might be going back at some point in the future, I'll reserve final judgement but in general it was... very French.

Le Grand Monarque