Joe Ray

August, 2008 - Centurion Magazine

PARIS - When chef Otis Lebert and I headed over to try a new restaurant with a whiz-kid in the kitchen, I wasn’t anticipating a clash of egos on the street. Like two cagey boxers squaring off for the first time, both chefs immediately flash an unpleasant side right there in front of the restaurant. I make a note to myself: bad idea.
“You have trouble getting fish right now?” asks L’Incroyable 1793’s Mehdi As Siyad, the younger of the two, not exactly extending an olive branch to the visiting chef, but at least making an effort.
Generally a polite and shy type, Lebert, who runs the fine Taxi Jaune restaurant in the Marais district of Paris, gives a rude grunt as a reply.
“It’s always like this between chefs,” says As Siyad in a not-so-quiet aside, ignoring Lebert as he flicks his cigarette butt into the alley and heads back into his kitchen.

Not bad. Less than a year under his belt as a head chef and the kid’s already learning to push himself off the ropes.

Lebert isn’t the only chef interested in visiting L’Incroyable. Threestar chef Marc Veyrat, As Siyad’s former boss, wants to come try the pigeon en pyjama crucifié – crucified pigeon in pyjamas – because about a year ago, the young chef invented a new method to debone the bird.

“One afternoon, [Guérin] made me cook with a blindfold and a sauté pan,” recounts As Siyad. “‘Ok, what do you smell? What does this make you think of?’ he asked. I learned that flavour pairings don’t work on pretentious old ideas.” Photo by Joe Ray

Chefs – including Lebert – go nuts for this sort of thing. Once deboned, the bird is cooked in a sauté pan and crudely nailed to the cutting board it’s served on – the hammering back in the kitchen alerting diners that their order is ready. Once on the table when the mains come around, Lebert needs to be coaxed into sharing – it’s nicely seared and a little crunchy on the outside and has a perfect rosy pink centre. Though daring in name and presentation, it is excellent and modern French food.

“I like pushing limits,” As Siyad says, grinning. “It shocks the older set, but afterwards, they eat it and they like it.” His favourite customers so far were a pair of octogenarians who ordered the pigeon and liked it so much, they invited him to their home for Christmas.

Is this the future of French cuisine? Lord knows, but this is a chef with chararcter, his heart is in the right place and, at just 24, he is quickly finding his feet.

Thanks to a series of stints at several Michelin-starred restaurants, starting with a watershed year with Eric Guérin at La Mare aux Oiseaux in the Guérande region and culminating in three months with Veyrat, As Siyad has gained an innate sense of what is good and how things work.

A pair of Proust-worthy madeleines, accompanied by pink grapefruit wedges under a drizzle of raspberry reduction and a sprinkle of fleur de sel. Next to it is a tiny glass filled with goodness. “It‘s just melted Werther’s (caramels) with a little butter and cream,” says As Siyad, modestly jiggling the bait. Photo by Joe Ray.

On another day, sans Lebert, As Siyad demonstrates this by preparing a foie gras appetiser. He cuts a section of the goose liver, places it in a hot pan without oil and walks away. Drawn back a short time later, he flips the foie gras without checking the underside, knowing it was seared like he wanted. “One afternoon, [Guérin] made me cook with a blindfold and a sauté pan,” recounts As Siyad. “‘Ok, what do you smell? What does this make you think of?’ he asked. I learned that flavour pairings don’t work on pretentious old ideas.” L’Incroyable’s tiramisu dessert with cocoa and roasted red pepper puree may be a new idea that’s tough for a more uptight set to digest, but it already has a following of regulars who swoon for it. “Who says you can’t have salty flavours in a dessert?” asks As Siyad, who also seems to be a born teacher. “If I put a lump of hot coal next to you and put a drop of oil on top, you’re going to think right away of barbecue, summer, sausages,” he says, another lesson learned from Guérin. “The French are educated on a grandma’s cuisine of maman and I like to play with that.”

This becomes clear when a friend of his stops by and As Siyad cooks up one of his desserts – a pair of Proust-worthy madeleines, accompanied by pink grapefruit wedges under a drizzle of raspberry reduction and a sprinkle of fleur de sel. Next to it is a tiny glass filled with goodness. “It‘s just melted Werther’s (caramels) with a little butter and cream,” he says, modestly jiggling the bait.

I try a spoonful and turn into a six-year old with a spoon in my mouth, a big, goofy grin and my legs dangling off the edge of a bench. As Siyad grins back, knowing he’s got me. “Just like one of grandma’s desserts, right?”

This is the 'French' half of a story on a pair of ambitoius chefs (the other chef is Australian Dan Hunter) To see the .pdf version of the complete story as it ran in American Express Centurion Magazine, click here