Mirazur x Ferran Adrià
To celebrate Mirazur’s anniversary, Mauro Colagreco created something far beyond a conventional commemorative dinner. For this occasion, he invited Ferran Adrià, one of the most influential figures in the history of gastronomy, to act as curator of an ephemeral menu: a retrospective, immersive, and almost theatrical journey through the identity of Mirazur.
This event was the sole reason for my trip to the French Riviera.
Of course, once I had committed to flying to France for one dinner, it only made sense to make the most of it. The trip itself was designed with a far more relaxed, go-with-the-flow rhythm than usual, though I already had several notable stops planned: Le Louis XV, La Chèvre d’Or, Château Eza, and Le Cap, with more to be added as the days unfold.
Still, Mirazur was the centerpiece.
Having never had the opportunity to experience elBulli, my excitement for this evening could hardly be overstated. Ferran Adrià’s influence on modern gastronomy is almost impossible to quantify, and the idea of encountering his creative language through the lens of Mauro Colagreco’s flagship restaurant felt incredibly special. My only previous experience with Mauro’s cooking had been at Florie’s, his restaurant at the Four Seasons in Palm Beach, so this would be my first time experiencing Mirazur in Menton.
Upon arriving on the French Riviera, I made my way to Menton, where I would be meeting a friend for the dinner. We had been asked to arrive thirty minutes before our reservation, a detail that already suggested the evening would be more than a traditional meal.
At the gates of Mauro’s flagship restaurant, we were warmly greeted by the front-of-house team and given a brief glimpse into the kitchen before being introduced to our “guide” for the evening. She explained that she would be taking us on a journey through the minds of Ferran and Mauro, a fitting introduction to what was about to unfold.
We descended to the patio, where we were met with our first bite: a playful take on a dirty martini. A spherified olive was placed before us, with instructions to pop it into our mouths before spraying a gin and vermouth mixture directly after. The olive burst instantly, bright and saline, followed by the aromatic hit of the spray. It was vibrant, clever, and a wonderfully disarming way to begin the evening. (8.0 /10)
From there, we were led into a presentation on Ferran Adrià’s creative process and the way he approaches gastronomy. Food, taste, texture, form, three-dimensionality, and perception were all mapped out with a kind of intellectual precision. It gave me the distinct feeling of corporate America meeting gastronomy: logic mapping, systems thinking, and creative methodology applied to the act of eating. I found it all extremely fascinating.
We were shown old elBulli menus, archival photographs, and the conceptual framework behind how the evening’s menu had been created. It was not simply nostalgia, but a look into the mechanics of culinary invention, how an idea becomes a dish, and how a dish becomes an experience.
At the end of this introduction, we arrived before a beautiful wall of grass and roses. We were asked to choose a rose, which would become our vessel for champagne and mark the beginning of the first of six acts: Flowers.
The rose was paired with Laurent-Perrier Cuvée Rosé, one of my personal favorites. The aromatic effect was lovely, offering a delicate floral lift before each sip. Did it transform the champagne as much as I expected? Not entirely. But it was graceful, memorable, and unlike anything I had tried before.
For the next part of the Flowers act, we were led back out to the patio, where a table had been arranged with a liquid nitrogen station and one of the chefs awaiting us. The bite was a génépi and citrus cocktail, finished by attaching the flower petals to the mixture before freezing it in liquid nitrogen. The result had the perfect mouthfeel: cold, delicate, and melting almost instantly. The herbaceous notes from the flowers balanced the citrus beautifully. (9.0 /10)
For my aperitif, I chose a champagne from a house I had never tried before: L’Échappée Belle Blanc de Blancs by Étienne Calsac. It proved to be a perfect beginning to the meal. The minerality came through clearly, making it a crisp, elegant, and refreshing way to settle into the evening.
The final two amuse-bouches of the act followed. First came a salted meringue topped with Rova House white caviar. I found it a touch too salty and slightly overpowering. (6.5 /10)
The next, however, was one of my favorite bites of the entire evening: the ephemeral violet. Goat cheese met violet flower topped with a local hazelnut in a composition that was delicate, fragrant, and beautifully balanced. It was truly unique, and one of those bites I immediately wished I could have again. (10 /10)
With that, we were taken into the kitchen, where I had the pleasure of briefly speaking with Mauro himself. There, we were served the final amuse: an oyster presented in three different expressions. It began with an oyster leaf, followed by oyster water, and finished with the most tasteful oyster. The progression remained shockingly light and vibrant, tasting purely and beautifully of the sea. (7.5 /10)
Finally, we were led into the dining room.
I was met with an expansive view of the French Riviera. The sky was slightly overcast that evening, but the atmosphere inside was light, buzzing, and filled with anticipation. After such an imaginative opening, I could not wait to see where the rest of the night would take us.
