Incredibly delicious: the Triptyque at-home menu by star chef Niven Kunz
What do you do when your own restaurant is closed? While some (star) chefs are showcasing their culinary skills elsewhere (check out the kitchen takeover by star chef Arturo Dalhuisen, for example), other chefs excel at creating fantastic menus for home. We were already raving about Ron Blaauw’s rijsttafel, and the fine dining menu by star chef Niven Kunz is also highly recommended!
Niven Kunz, isn’t he the vegetable chef?
That’s right! This ‘vegetable chef’ worked at De Librije and De Bokkedoorns and earned his first Michelin star at the age of 24 at restaurant ‘t Raethuys in Wateringen. He received his second star at restaurant Niven in Rijswijk, where his 80/20 cooking style (cooking with 80 percent vegetables and 20 percent meat or fish) was a huge hit; he received the award for Best Vegetable Restaurant for no fewer than four consecutive years.
After restaurant Niven went bankrupt at the beginning of the coronavirus crisis, Niven opened restaurant Triptyque in Wateringen on August 1, together with his girlfriend Virginie van Bronckhorst (and his former team). It is located in the former town hall on the Plein, where he once earned his first Michelin star.
Slight panic: where is the chef?
It is Friday late in the afternoon when the doorbell rings. Virginie herself is standing at the door, handing over a huge box. ‘How lovely that you’re going to try our at-home menu! In the box you’ll find detailed instructions; it all speaks for itself.’ When I unpack the box a little later, with around 50 little boxes covering my countertop!, I hope the chef himself will jump out as a surprise. Do I have to make all this myself?! Panic briefly sets in. I work up my courage with a delicious glass of Chardonnay from Jean Leon and turn on the oven.
Brioche and salmon—things are going well
After arranging all the containers for the two different four-course menus (1x vegetarian, 1x meat), I slide the beautiful brioche into the oven, covered with honey and lavender. Another sip and let’s get moving! The vegetarian menu starts very simply with a potato salad (a container with slices) with quail eggs (already cooked and peeled and in a separate container) and wafer-thin crêpes, which I then spread with a goat cheese cream. Chive vinaigrette goes on top (also in a little container, just stir well), and as a finishing touch I open the container with chervil and the container with flower petals. Plate it up, done!
The other menu also includes a few slices of Bawykov salmon (‘place the slices in the center of the plate’) and Dutch shrimp. Here too, a few drops of vinaigrette, chervil and flower petals go on top. The wine tells me that what I’m doing here looks truly very professional. And it really is unbelievably delicious!
What kind of disastrous mise en place is this?!
Then I head back into the kitchen, throw away what I no longer need and start, as the included step-by-step plan recommends, with the Vichyssoise, a thick potato soup usually made with cooked and puréed leeks, onions, potatoes and cream. I don’t know what Niven has done to it, but it tastes absolutely delicious when I sample a little from the container. It needs to be heated and lightly frothed. Out comes the blender, and suddenly I realize that my mise en place is pretty terrible. Simply arranging a few containers clearly isn’t enough—I take another sip, the wine is excellent—because everyone knows you should always read the entire recipe first. Then I would have found the damn immersion blender in advance and had the water ready for the mussels that need to be heated. Meanwhile, my dining companion is getting restless: ‘Is there any more brioche? I’m pretty hungry. Is everything going okay over there?’
Quickly return the warmed mussels to their shells and decorate them with a dollop of curry mayonnaise, pearl onions and very cute little round toasts. Niven has apparently prepared everything perfectly, because it all looks flawless and the step-by-step plan leaves nothing open to interpretation. But why won’t the Vichyssoise foam? Help! Quickly finish the vegetarian version: place the braised and warmed leeks on a deep plate (I don’t have one—why not? ‘Why don’t we have any deep plates? How am I supposed to cook like this!’) and add sweet-and-sour leeks. The foamed soup that refuses to foam goes over it. My dining companion doesn’t care in the slightest: ‘This is delicious!’
Red wine jus, oops…
Meanwhile, the bottle is almost empty and I get started on the main course. The wild mushroom risotto is gently warmed over low heat, while the accompanying vegetable garnish of wild mushrooms, celeriac and artichoke is braised until warm in a knob of butter with 2/3 tablespoons of water. Froth the supplied wild mushroom jus with an immersion blender. I CAN DO THIS. Everything is under control. Before I get overconfident, the pork neck also needs to be quickly fried on both sides in a little oil. It comes with an eggplant cream and compote. There is something involving tatsoi leaves, the flat variety of bok choy; I had to Google this and forgot that I had to warm the red wine jus. Even without the jus, the meat is incredibly tasty. Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside—perfect. The risotto is also a truly excellent dish!
Poached pear with a hole
The bottle is just empty when I start on dessert: pear poached in fennel, which needs to be placed on top of an (incredible!) crumble. There is a hole in the side of the pear, into which I place a crisp cone filled with white chocolate mousse. Pour lemon caramel sauce over it, cut the brownie into pieces, done! This is incredibly easy and looks spectacular. Just as I proudly sit down at the table, my dining companion asks why on earth there is a mussel in his dessert.
Note to self: don’t drink while cooking next time. Other than that, nothing but praise for myself—and especially for Niven, because with his at-home menu you feel like a real star chef in your own kitchen. Everything is explained very clearly, looks beautifully presented (extra bonus for the environmentally friendly packaging!) and tastes fantastic. Highly recommended, in short! The only thing left once everything has been cleared away is a container of bonito flakes (shavings of dried, fermented and smoked tuna). But when I lift the lid and give it a sniff (fish food!), I don’t mind at all.
A delicious surprise every week
Triptyque’s at-home menus come in three-, four- and five-course options (also vegetarian). Three courses cost €50, four courses €65 and five courses €80. And if you like it so much that you want to order it more often, it will continue to surprise you, because the dishes in the takeaway menus change every week (check the restaurant’s website for details). You can pick up your order at Triptyque on Thursday, Friday and Saturday between 11:00 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. Orders can be placed until 3:00 p.m.
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