Disclosure: I was a guest of the property for this meal.
Before everyone who actually knows me freaks out… no, I did not eat the buckwheat in the photo above. But I was astounded by literally everything that came before and after.
I received an invitation recently to check out a French-style goûter at one of Paris’ palace hotels, the San Regis. Goûter is the French term for an afternoon snack. (Check out my favorite goûters in Paris on Substack.) Also known as le quatre-heures (literally: the four o’clock), it’s a far more typical part of children’s days than of adults’ (though many of my adult friends refuse to give it up well into their 40s.) Either way, a French goûter is generally never as fancy as a true British high tea, which may well be why most of Paris’ palace hotels offer the former. (So does the Ritz, which is so extra it’s not a palace.)
At the San Regis, however, they’ve tapped Jessica Préalpato, who came up at the Plaza Athénée and has been distinguished as World’s Best Pastry Chef by 50 Best and Pastry Chef of the Year by Gault & Millau, to develop a French-accented offering. And in my opinion, it marries the very best of what France and Britain have to offer.
The goûter departs from High Tea tradition right off the bat by serving, not tea, but a specially designed infusion. (The French, quite rightly in my opinion, don’t call herbal teas “tea” seeing as there’s no actual tea in them.) This one from 88 Thés is made with a rooibos base slightly sweetened with dates, figs, pomegranate, almond, and a subtle hint of rose. I’m not usually one for floral flavors, but the balance here was perfect, both on its own and as a harmonious accompaniment for the parade of sweets to follow.
The goûter also stands out from a typical high tea in that there are no savory options. It starts, then, not with sandwiches, but with an assortment of warm, miniature scones. Three varieties were on offer on our visit: a traditional plain scone, one topped with fennel seeds, and another infused with chamomile and topped with puffs of floral bee pollen, which proved to be my favorite.
Each could be paired with a choice of rich raw cream, white heather honey, or a super bright, acidic lemon condiment.
I loved all three, but I must admit that the combo of warm scone, slightly bitter honey, and rich cream was a must.
Alongside this first course was served small plate of seasonal kiwi (did you know that France has grown kiwi since the ’60s and is the third largest European producer of the fruit?) These offered the perfect balance of sweetness and acidity, and I loved the surprising slash of red through the yellow flesh.
And of course… there were the choux. Due to an unfortunate communication hiccough, I was served these buckwheat-filled cream puffs seasoned with Malabar black pepper, and while they certainly looked inviting, I was forced to abstain due to a severe allergy. I would have had more than enough to enjoy even without them, but the quick-thinking team eagerly served me a replacement.
These miniature Paris-Brest were delightful, studded with caramelized pine nuts and topped with thinly sliced hazelnuts. The staff let me know they’re part of the regular menu and aren’t designed or made by Préalpato, but they were absolutely delicious.
But they didn’t hold a candle to the next offering, which really showcased the French influence of this goûter. French pastry chefs often choose to specialize either plated desserts in restaurants or pâtisseries perfect for a shop, but with this place, Préalpato showed she’s a master of both.
On this plate, pink Corsican grapefruit and a quenelle of ice cream were settled in a generous pool of mature olive oil and rose hip infused jus and sprinkled with hemp seeds. And honestly, I haven’t eaten a plate that excited me this much in a very long time. It offered the perfect between richness and lightness, sweetness and bitterness and acidity. Each bite was a new adventure, and I was sorry to finish it.
Of course, this hazelnut tart was waiting in the wings – and it was far from disappointing. It paired Auvergnat hazelnuts with Malabar pepper and puxuri, also known as Brazilian nutmeg, which lent a deep earthiness to the tart. I loved the deeply roasted hazelnuts and hazelnut skins on top.
My only critique here was not with the quality of the plates but with the fact that they came to the table together. Each of us got our own plated dessert, while the tart was intended to share. But when we’d finished our plated dessert, we had to wait until the servers came to remove the empty plates before we could access the clean plate beneath. It’s such a small criticism, but I would have far preferred them to be served in sequence, which would have made the pacing of the tasting a bit more natural. But ’tis but the smallest of quibbles.
Last but not least, we were served this regressive warm fondant au chocolat, a barely set chocolate cake.
It was as it should be: rich and perfectly gooey in the middle. And yet Préapalto’s ever-present sense of balance shone through in her choice of a slightly briny Sao Tome chocolate, which really pushed it over the edge.
But I’ll admit I loved the accompaniment even more. This ice cream made with milk from the Kerbastard farm in Brittany was just barely sweetened and barely set, lending a lovely lactic richness to this bite. It was only improved with a smattering of fruity cacao nibs. I scraped the bowl clean.
Le San Regis is less ostentatious than some other palace hotels, lending a coziness to this nevertheless luxe and gourmet experience. The professional yet friendly service felt perfectly suited to the environment, and it allowed the real star – Préalpato’s balanced, delicious plates – to shine. It’s priced at 65 euros per person – 85 if you opt for a coupe of Champagne – and to my mind, it’s worth far more.
Le San Regis – 12, rue Jean Goujon, 75008