Where Roxane and Jean Sévègnes, from Café des Ministères in Paris’s 7th arrondissement, reveal the subtlety of this age-old dish.
A benchmark in savory pastry, the vol-au-vent — what a joy it is to write that name — has, by popular demand, become the signature dish at Café des Ministères, run by Roxane and Jean Sévègnes. While recipes vary, Jean is committed to upholding the fundamentals: an impossibly light puff pastry (the source of its poetic name vol-au-vent, or “flight in the wind,” made famous by the legendary Carême around 1750), on which he assembles a mix of sweetbreads, cream, spinach, free-range poultry, and truffle. Here, he presents this assembly — a term that speaks as much to the challenge of defying gravity as it does to the art of connecting sequences into a coherent whole.
1. The building materials
The puff pastry shell and base ingredients are prepared in advance, as the assembly must be quick — ten minutes at most — since the vol-au-vent is delicate and only “stands tall” for the brief moment separating it from the lucky recipient’s stomach. Measuring roughly 15 centimeters in diameter, the top of the shell is sealed, presenting more like a pedestal than a vessel.
This unusual shape helps maintain the structure by preventing the filling from overly soaking the pastry. Ready to use are a spinach fondue, pre-cooked veal sweetbreads (see point 2), pieces of free-range poultry, sliced mushrooms, truffle shavings, and whipped cream.
2. The sweetbreads
This is the key ingredient in the vol-au-vent — the one that defines the full depth of the recipe: a refined, sought-after, prized cut that nonetheless belongs to the offal family, the so-called “fifth quarter.” Like its counterparts, it repels some while utterly delighting others. Before it can please fortunate connoisseurs, this delicate piece of veal — a gland located at the top of the chest that atrophies in adulthood — must be soaked, then blanched and drained, before being roasted along with the rest of the preparation.
3. Cooking
Two cooking processes take place simultaneously: in a large cast-iron skillet, Jean Sévègnes sautés the poultry in duck fat with a reduced onion base. Once the meat begins to brown (after about 5 minutes), he places the first assembled vol-au-vent (shell + spinach + sweetbreads) in the oven at 185°C, taking care to minimize moisture.
4. On the stovetop
The poultry, now combined with mushrooms and truffle shavings, is deglazed with alcohol. Two generous ladles of whipped cream are then added, and the mixture is left to simmer for 3 to 4 minutes.
5. Final stretch
Jean Sévègnes removes the vol-au-vent from the oven and places it on a plate — the grand finale of the assembly. Now comes the delicate part, like one of those nerve-wracking games that test players’ motor coordination: carefully placing the pieces of poultry atop this fragile little structure, which threatens to collapse under its own weight, then pouring the contents of the pan over the whole until the plate is filled.
6. Treasure island
Once fully loaded with its garnish, the vol-au-vent has no chance of taking flight. The image of a sail carried by the breeze gives way to that of a puff pastry island rising from a sea of mushroom cream. Jean Sévègnes has had to concede to the verdict of his guests — and to the success of his signature dish. He has become a guardian of the vitality of this unclassifiable recipe, which truly deserves to be classified.
It is indeed time to defend, rediscover, and celebrate this little windswept island, found at the crossroads of pastry and cuisine — a miniature showcase of the visual, technical, gustatory, and formal discoveries that define l’art culinaire à la française.
By Clément Charbonnier Bouet
