The taste of history

Diplomacy viewed through the lens of gastronomy. Now that’s a fascinating but slippery subject. One that professional historians tend to shy away from. There are too many variables—seasonal produce, personal tastes, a chef’s flair—that make state dinners elusive and almost impossible to study with intellectual rigour.

Thankfully, we’re not bound by the constraints of academia. We are free to indulge in the delightful exercise of decoding symbols, spotting subtle messages—perhaps even whispered confessions—in the pairing of food and wine.

Join us on a culinary journey through history, from starter to dessert, guided by two distinguished diplomats: Château Rieussec and Château Lafite Rothschild.

Starter
Homemade foie gras salad, Corrèze-style with Château Rieussec 1989.

Jacques Chirac, France’s social Gaullist president and devoted republican, plays host to his Brazilian counterpart, a former metalworker and union leader.

Two elements lend special significance to this classic pairing of foie gras and Sauternes.

First, the foie gras, which was prepared en salade à la corrézienne, a nod to Chirac’s roots. The freshness of the salad, the vinegar’s sharpness and the bitterness of walnut kernels perfectly offset the richness of the foie gras.

The second element is the celebrated 1989 Château Rieussec which marked a symbolic date: the bicentenary of the French Revolution. With its notes of honey and gingerbread, the vintage plays the role of a gastronomic bridge between two republicans from opposite ends of the political spectrum.

Main course: choose your saddle

– Option 1
Saddle of highland lamb, stuffed and roasted in its own jus and Château Lafite Rothschild 1945.

Picture a flock grazing upon the undulating hills of Kerman, in central Iran. The soft green of the pastures sets a gentle contrast against the arid foothills of the Lut Desert in the distance. Here, ancient pastoral traditions meet the refinement of Persian civilisation—reflected in the choice of an exquisitely tender cut, prepared with the understated sophistication of a delicately stuffed roast.

One might imagine notes of za’atar, coriander, perhaps the subtle sweetness of dried fruits, delicately accentuating the richness and resilience of the meat.

To accompany it: a Château Lafite Rothschild 1945, a vintage both historic and exquisite. A wine of liberation—complex, refined—whose ageing potential is said to be near infinite. An omen of longevity the Shah would no doubt have welcomed…though it did little to prevent his regime from being overthrown eight years later.

Or

– Option 2
Saddle of Veal Orloff with Château Lafite Rothschild 1953

Saddle of Veal Orloff is a classic of French haute cuisine: a stuffed veal loin, layered with ham and cheese, then roasted in the oven. By 1963, it was already seen as somewhat old-fashioned—a dish that harked back to 19th century diplomatic banquets.

Perhaps it was General de Gaulle’s way, as President of the Republic, of signalling the end of an age. The very next day, on 22nd January 1963, the Élysée Treaty was signed—a landmark agreement that deepened Franco-German cooperation and laid one of the foundations for what would eventually become the European Union.

De Gaulle was known neither as a great drinker nor as a particular connoisseur of wine. So, when one of the finest post-war vintages—a 1953 Château Lafite Rothschild —was served at lunch, it was almost certainly a nod to the German Chancellor’s well-known appreciation for fine wine. And perhaps, just perhaps, a subtle effort to tempt him away from his beloved Rieslings in favour of France’s own Premier Grand Cru.

– Option 3
Roasted Bresse Chicken Supreme with Château Lafite Rothschild 2001

A summit meeting—on the plate as well as around the table. The finest French poultry, likely roasted in its own jus, paired with the deep, earthy flavour of black truffle—just like our Lafite.

Its mineral notes pay tribute to the cathedral’s stones, to those soaring arches rebuilt in lace-like stonework—rounded and refined. We look upon the monument once again, and it stirs a quiet emotion. Its grace and elegance is both adored and admired. We tend to describe it in a reverent tone, much like when we talk about a truly great Pauillac.

Dessert
Strawberry and ginger trifle with Château Rieussec 2007

Few details have emerged about the feast held by King Charles III following his coronation. But two key facts have surfaced. The King chose to serve his guests Château Rieussec 2007. And he asked chef Adam Handling to prepare his favourite dessert: a strawberry and ginger trifle. ‘A proudly British creation’, as reported by the UK press, the trifle featured Yorkshire sponge and Scottish strawberries.

Curiously, none of the journalists seemed to have unearthed the origin of the ginger. Perhaps it was a subtle nod to a friend from the Commonwealth—India or Jamaica. The spice lends the traditional English pudding a distinctive character and pairs brilliantly with the Château Rieussec 2007. The wine’s notes of wildflowers and candied apricots wrap around the freshness of the strawberry and ginger—a flavourful translation of Rieussec’s crown. A delicious finale to a truly memorable coronation.

To finish
Candied chestnut ice cream with cognac, à la façon d’Éric de Rothschild

To end on a sweet note: a signature dessert from Le Dôme, the iconic brasserie on Boulevard Montparnasse in Paris.

Baron Éric de Rothschild, who led the Domaines Barons de Rothschild Lafite for over three decades, has his regular table there—so much so that his favourite dessert made it on to the menu. A candied chestnut ice cream, perfect for concluding our feast—especially when paired with a glass of Cognac Lafite Très Vieille Réserve. Fire and ice, without the fizz: the cognac’s caramelised hazelnut notes delicately enhance the rich, velvety flavour of the chestnut.

After a menu full of revelations, we find ourselves in full agreement with Talleyrand. The French statesman, who served as Foreign Minister from the Directory through to the end of the Empire, famously enlisted Maurice Carême—the chef to whom we owe veal Orloff.

Some things, it seems, are more than mere coincidence.