To Robespierre, an ideal outcome of the French revolution would have been a universal diet of lentils. Danton, no less a revolutionary by considerably more of a gourmet, felt that in the "universal freedom to come", Frenchmen should dine on nothing less than pheasant stuffed with truffles in cream sauce. The Count of Mirabeau, a bit more realistic than either of his two sometimes friends, thought that all "French men and women should dine generously and under no circumstances, never less than four times each day".

Mirabeau, who had two lives, one under the Ancien Regime and the other with the French revolution seems today an unlikely candidate to have become a hero. His first life, as the son of a nobleman was a failure, although it showed flashes of genius. His second life covered him with glory even though it was flawed in many ways. Before the revolution, Mirabeau's life had been one of family feuds, lover's quarrels, prisons and exiles, major scandals, minor literature and great food. Born into a well known Provencal noble family, by the time he was twenty he had abandoned his military regiment, piled up an unbelievable collection of debts, compromised dozens of wives (including his own) and slept with his sister. He had been to court many times, had spent time in the cells of the Chateau d'If, was exiled to a small town in the Jura Mountains, and had been imprisoned by the king in the dungeons of Vincennes.

In addition to women, debts and prison, Mirabeau also had his writing, and from prison to prison, from exile to exile he wrote essays on a wide variety of subjects. He had translated Latin poets, written porngraphic novels and had published several minor historical novels. One critic described his work as morally corrupt and intellectually confused. Years later, critic Sainte-Beuve said that Mirabeau's writings were "insignificant primarily because they were littered with intellectual small change".

Despite the fact that he had bungled nearly everything in his life, fate smiled on him and this dissipated, inconsistent, unfaithful man became the voice of the revolution. Robespierre considered his speeches "the inspired voice of reason" and Danton observed that Mirabeau's essays "personified the true meaning of the revolution". What none of his revolutionary colleagues realized was that Mirabeau was really quite opposed to the concept of liberty. What he really wanted was total power that would be vested in a King who had the unquestioning support of the Revolutionary Congress. Interestingly enough, it was not the Revolution but Napoleon Bonaparte who fulfilled Mirabeau's dream when he became a King of the Revolution.

It is difficult to say whether Mirabeau was better loved in Paris for his skills as an orator, his fiery revolutionism, his seemingly endless ability to make love to a great variety of women or his exquisite taste as a gastronome. Whether he was in prison or in power, in exile or in glory, Mirabeau insisted on dining well. In his cell at the Chateau d'If, he received regular supplies of geese stuffed with truffles, fresh strawberries and fine Port wine. During his internment at Vincennes he dined regularly on trout, fine cheeses from Italy, and cakes baked for him by one of his lovers in Paris. During the height of his popularity as a spokesman for the Revolution, he was frequently found at the Tour d'Argent where he dined on duck in orange sauce; at Le Doyen, where he would meet his lady friends and feast on oysters; or at Procope , where he would review his speeches (nearly all of which were ghost-written for him by Etienne Dumont) while sipping coffee and eating orange sorbet.

Although Mirabeau died in 1791, each of his favorite restaurants is still open. The following dish was dedicated to him by one of the chefs at Procope, probably in 1790 and the dish remains a permanent and popular part of the menu at this charming establishment, the oldest cafe-restaurant in Paris.


Entrectote Mirabeau

1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
18 anchovy fillets, ideally fresh
24 large green or black olives, stoned
1/2 cup tarragon leaves
4 entrecote steaks, trimmed and lightly flattened
3 Tbsp. olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Several hours before cooking the steaks, prepare the butter by crushing 6 of the anchovy fillets with a fork and then blending them together with the butter. Form the butter into eight squares and refrigerate.

In two separate saucepans bring lightly salted water to a rapid boil. Reduce the flame and in one of the saucepans simmer the olives gently for 4 - 5 minutes. Plunge the tarragon leaves into the other saucepan and simmer for 3 - 4 minutes. Drain both.

Brush the steaks with the oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cook the steaks under a hot grill for 1 minute.
Turn the steaks and cook 1 minute longer. Turn again and cook until the steaks are done to taste. To serve, arrange the steaks on preheated plates and garnish with the remaining anchovies, olives and tarragon leaves. On each steak place two squares of the anchovy butter and serve immediately. Ideally served with thinly cut chips and good bread for finishing off the sauce. (Serves 4).

© Daniel Rogov