Fine Dining, Fine Dinner

I came across a Lonely Planet post about things to do in Vilnius and came across the name of a restaurant a few blocks from my BnB - Ertlio Namas. I looked it up and was very intrigued by the concept of the current tasting menu offered by the chef: the history of Lithuania, as told by food. The courses featured were based on what agricultural and game products would have been available in the country and why one things was preferable over another. It was a great way to set up the dinner and ended up with some fantastic courses. I chose the six-course tasting menu (and, of course, the wine pairing). 

So, this is the menu to start...

To get the party started - nothing too fancy - a little bit of Tanqueray and tonic, with a sprig of fresh mint.

The amuse-bouche: a mix of extra-lean pork blended with fatty pork, super slow-smoked in a real chimney for 4 months.

Then my waiter delivered the bread for the meal. A brown bread made with parsnips and on the side, a compound butter that included sunflower seed oil. The parsnips really made gave the bread a great flavor and lightened up the density of the crumb - and the root vegetable mixed with the nuttiness of the sunflower seeds was a really great combo.

To put it all in perspective - the place setting.
The last time I had this much silverware on the table, I was having dinner with my entire family. 
​You mean you're *not* supposed to just lick the fork and hang onto it for the next course?!

First course of the actual dinner.
I really don't know what much of it is - except there's a pate made from wild deer (notably: a small-sized female deer) - that's under everything. The yellow stuff is a gelée (fancy food-speak for jelly) made of quince. In the middle is a small piece of bread. 
​Regardless of what it's all called: it was amazing. Clean plate club.

Second course.
At 12 o'clock is a small piece of roast pheasant, covered with a bit of carrot puree. Also on the plate is is some sweet potato (not yam!), and a jelly. I'm not sure what the small brown thing on the right it.
Again, clean plate club.
Side note: the waiter, in his broken English (mad props, 'cause I can't speak a lick of Lithuanian), kept calling the "pheasant" "peasant," and I was delighted to think about the nobility relishing in their station in life that allowed them to have fresh, roast peasant for dinner.

Third course.
I was most hesitant for this one: "fish soup."
When my waiter brought it out, with all the tasty bits in the bowl while holding a tureen of broth, he started to describe it. The broth was made of slowly simmering the fish, while the "meat" of the dish (unseen here, because it's under the liquid) was made of smoked pike. The green stuff is an oil made of onion. On top, the little round orange bits are "carrot caviar." I continued to be hesitant through the description. 
And then, my waiter poured the broth into the bowl and I smelled the aroma of all of it.
Clean plate club? I almost picked up the bowl to lick it.

Fourth course.
Before this one came out, I pulled my phone out to Google "Zander." Spoiler: it's another kind of fish.
I also learned that, of the three kinds of carrots pictured here (yellow, red, and orange), the yellow are the original and natural carrot. Red carrots were a genetic mutation that would periodically occur. Later, somebody cross-bred a yellow and a red carrot to make orange carrots and a science project gift to the king of Holland (since orange is the color of the Dutch). Somehow, orange carrots became the standard. 
The bit of white stuff on the left is a parsnip puree. 
It was all delicious. 
I almost ate it before I could get a photo. There's a yellow carrot missing from the 6 o'clock spot on the plate.
​Another clean plate. I really gave the dishwasher guy an easy gig tonight.

Fifth course.
I had to Google this one, too.
"Poularde." 
What the heck is "poularde?"
Well, it's a chicken who was sterilized before her reproductive organs developed (before 6 months of age), and then was over-fed after that. In order to cook with real, legit poularde, the restaurant has a contract with a farmer who breeds the stock well in advance of needing it.
Oh yeah, it was good. 
​5/5 plates ready to go back in the cupboard.

Sixth and final course: dessert.
Holy.
Noms.
Honey ice cream. Beat root mousse. And bits of bacon. 
The little greenish-stuff in the center-ish is "green tea caviar," and the foam is also made from the same green tea.
Again.
Wow.
​Clean plate club x6.

Following the meal, I also ordered another glass of wine as a follow-up, a Lithuanian wine made of local forest berries (e.g. blackberries, etc.) - it was a sweet wine, but post-dessert, that makes sense. 
As I was rounding the corner on the glass of wine, my waiter swung back around with one last little bite: a bit of dark chocolate filled with a house-made sherry wine mousse, with the restaurant's name/logo imprinted on the top:

And then!
As I asked my waiter to bring the bill, he also stopped by with yet another, one more liqueur (on the house, as a treat) to wrap things up. I'm not sure what all was in it - honey was the base (like a mead, but much stronger and thicker), and also a very strong overtone of rosemary - it almost had the burn of spicy food. 
​Once that was done - he actually did bring the bill - in quite a unique receptacle, a small box: