Lombardi's (New York, NY)

Lombardi's
32 Spring St, New York, NY 10012
212.941.7994
www.firstpizza.com
Tue 12/23/2008, 06:35p-07:40p



To conclude my time in New York, my last meal in the City would also be a first: the first pizzeria in the country that is. Lombardi's was opened by Gennaro Lombardi over a century ago in 1897 as a grocery store. In 1905, employee Antonio "Totonno" Pero began selling tomato pies, which proved immensely popular. Lombardi's pizza was modeled after the original Neapolitan variety, though mozzarella fior di latte was substituted for Mozzarella di Bufala, and a coal oven for a wood-burning one--thus the New York pizza was born. In 1924, Totonno left Lombardi's and opened Totonno's, his own pizzeria on Coney Island that still stands today. Interestingly, the current Lombardi's isn't at the location of the original. In 1984, the original restaurant closed, but reopened a decade later at another address only a block away (the location chosen for its early 1900's-era coal oven), this time under the auspices of Jerry Lombardi, Gennaro Lombardi's grandson, and his friend John Brescio. Lombardi's is currently owned and operated by Brescio, with Lombardi having retired from the business.


Lombardi's is located at the intersection of Spring and Mott streets in NoLIta (North of Little Italy); the area used to be part of Little Italy, but as Italians began moving out of the vicinity, the neighborhood started losing its distinctly Italian flavor. In any case, the restaurant has expanded over the years to meet increased customer demand; in the second photo, the original part of the restaurant is on the right, while the additions are to the left.


Here we see the dining room and bar in the newer part of the restaurant, near the main entrance. The new addition nearly doubled the size of the restaurant, reducing waiting times significantly.


Pictured above is one half of the original space; the other half is to the right, on the other side of the wall.


The menu is straightforward; click for larger versions. In addition to its classic Margherita pizza, Lombardi's is also well-known for its Clam Pie. The restaurant is somewhat unusual in that it does not sell pizza by the slice. Apparently, that concept was popularized by Patsy's Pizzeria in Harlem.


A small selection of drinks is available, including a few locally-brewed beers and some house wine. Nothing fancy, as expected. Click for larger versions.


The bar couldn't do a Mojito, so I decided (based on my experience at The Bazaar) on an Americano [$8.00] instead, comprised of Campari, sweet vermouth, and club soda. Surprisingly, the bartender was unaware of the drink, having to consult an electronic guide to figure the necessary ingredients. Though not as tasty as The Bazaar's version (this one being far more bitter), I still enjoyed the drink and found it appropriate as an aperitif.

In addition, I also ordered a glass of Brooklyn Lager [$6.00] and one of Sixpoint's Sweet Action Cream Ale [$6.00]. Brooklyn Lager comes from The Brooklyn Brewery and was a fairly typical example of the style--dry and mildly hoppy with a slight bitterness--and paired well with the pizza. The Sweet Action also hails from Brooklyn, and, as can be seen above, was a much hazier beer. It had a nutty, honeyed nose but a surprisingly dry, clean, citrusy taste; I wished it were creamier, as the name would suggest.



Large 18" Pizza [$19.50]
We decided to go with Gennaro's Original Margarita (Fresh Mozzarella, San Marzano Tomato Sauce, Pecorino Romano, Fresh Basil) with the signature toppings of Homemade Meatballs (Beef with Pork) and Hormel Rosa Grande Pepperoni on one half. The pizza begins with the crust, made with high-gluten flour, which is charred on the bottom by a 900-degree coal-powered heat, giving it a somewhat smoky-bitter flavor; this, however, yields a soft, almost creamy interior. The crust was indeed extremely thin, which I liked, but I thought it could've been crispier. I've heard that the secret to the crust lies in the use of New York City tap water, and that certain pizzerias outside of the City have actually imported said water for use in pizzas!

Next comes the sauce (made from puréed San Marzano tomatoes--the only type allowed in true Neapolitan pizza), which was actually quite pleasantly tart, with just a hint of basil. The use of low-moisture cow's milk mozzarella (from whole or part skim milk) along with Pecorino Romano was a nice touch as well, with the Pecorino adding a somewhat saltier tang to the milder mozzarella. Finally, the meat toppings were among the best I've had of their respective varieties, both being extraordinarily flavorful; I especially enjoyed the crispiness of the pepperoni slices.

What a world of difference compared to Famous Original Ray's! Perhaps it had something to do with the location, the aura of being at pizza ground zero, but this was truly some of the best, most memorable pizza I've had. My prior pizza experiences have been mostly with chains, so it was refreshing to see pizza done right, by pizzaiolos with a passion, a desire, to do things the right way. The result really speaks for itself, and makes me yearn for a place like this back in Southern California.

Per Se (New York, NY)

Per Se
10 Columbus Cir, New York, NY 10019
212.823.9335
www.perseny.com
Sun 12/21/2008, 09:00p-12:15a



Ahh Per Se...for many, the most formidable restaurant in all of Gotham, and the seemingly perfect end to my New York culinary tour--following Adour, Le Bernardin, and Jean Georges. When I was planning my trip to the City, I wasn't even sure if Per Se was going to be on the itinerary. Reservations here were only a slight bit easier to secure than those for Barack Obama's presidential inauguration, so we were put on the waiting list. We had some backup dinners planned (e.g. WD-50 and Momofuku Ko), but as luck would have it, the reservation came through just days before departure.

The story of Per Se started back in 2001, when Thomas Keller began plans for a triumphant return to New York--Keller had actually opened his first restaurant, Rakel, here in 1986. He knew who he wanted to helm the new restaurant early on, and tapped French Laundry alum Jonathan Benno for the task. Previously, Benno had worked at Craft, Gramercy Tavern under Tom Colicchio, and Aqua under Michael Mina. Teams from French Laundry were brought over for training, and the restaurant opened on February 16, 2004, almost exactly a decade after Keller took over French Laundry.

People often ask about where the name "Per Se" comes from. Anecdotally, when Per Se was under development, people would ask Keller if it'd be the same as French Laundry; he'd subsequently respond that it wouldn't be the same per se. However, the name actually came from an examination of the ampersand symbol ("&"). The word "ampersand" is a contraction of the words "and per se and;" further research led Keller to discover that the phrase "per se" was Latin for "by itself." It really captured what he wanted the restaurant to be, something that was unique from French Laundry, but that didn't forget where it came from.


Per Se occupies a relatively secluded space on the fourth floor of Time Warner Center. Immediately north is another Michelin 3-star eatery: Masa. Legend has it that Keller convinced owner Masa Takayama to shutter his Ginza Sushiko (now Urasawa) in Beverly Hills in order to move with Keller to New York; the two restaurants opened within weeks of each other in 2004. No matter, upon approaching Per Se, you're unquestionably drawn to the pair of iconic blue doors, seemingly lifted straight from the entrance of French Laundry. But as you approach, you realize that they're just a façade; glass doors to either side swoosh open, beckoning you in. The doors pay homage to the Laundry; but by making them false, the idea was to signal that Per Se was to be its own restaurant.



The Adam Tihany-designed space shines in earthen, woody tones of brown. The main dining room (pictured above) seats 75 and is divided into an upper (where we were seated) and a lower portion, with the lower housing the fireplace and possessing a view of bustling Columbus Circle below. In addition, two private dining rooms are available. The East Room also overlooks the Circle and accommodates 10 guests, while the larger West Room handles 60 diners.


Naturally, I asked for a Mojito to start. Our server suggested a special version [$20.00] made with walnut liqueur. Feeling adventurous, I went for it. The drink was interesting to say the least, and actually not very Mojito-like, with very little mint, and very little citrus. All I could detect was the liqueur, which itself tasted not of walnuts, but plum, specifically, vinegar- and salt-pickled Chinese suan mei!


Per Se offers at least two menus of French-influenced contemporary American fare: one Chef's Tasting Menu and a Tasting of Vegetables. On this night, a special Offal Tasting Menu was also available. Click for larger versions. Each is nine-courses, and $275 inclusive of 20% service and non-alcoholic beverages (which was surprising). Dinner is served nightly, with a five-course $175 lunch offered Friday through Sunday. Regarding Per Se's menu philosophy, Keller and company are well aware of the law of diminishing returns, and as a result, portions are purposely small to have maximum impact, to make the diner want just "one more bite." It mostly works.



I previously complained about Adour's wine by the glass prices, and Per Se's are only a touch more manageable. What was truly shocking here was the corkage, at an incredible $90. And I thought the $50 at French Laundry was steep! In any case:

• Rudi Pichler, Grüner Veltliner, Federspiel, Wachau 2007 [$22.00] - I've grown quite fond of Grüners, and this was a nice example of such. Citrus and minerals on the nose lead to dry, crisp flavors on the palate, with a bit of spice and heat on the finish.
• Peay, Pinot Noir, "Pomarium," Sonoma Coast 2006 [$32.00] - A good California Pinot, I noted aromas of light red fruit and smoke initially, leading to plenty of herbal, spicy, and berry-like flavors in the mouth. Tangy and nice.

Pretzel, baguette, and semolina breads were paired with two types of butter. On the right was a fleur de sel butter from Vermont (made by Diane Sinclair exclusively for Keller), on the left a butter from Straus Family Creamery in California.


Canapé 1: Gruyère Gougères
The meal started off the exact same way as at French Laundry, with some positively addictive gougères, a French choux pastry with Gruyère cheese in the batter. They were delicious, and a touch creamier than I recall at Laundry, though I'd still have to give the edge to CUT's version.


Canapé 2: Salmon Coronets
The smoked salmon coronets ("crowns") are perhaps Keller's most famous dish. At French Laundry, I had them with red onion crème fraîche, but this time, the crème fraîche was flavored with sweetbreads, giving the coronets a somewhat heavier taste. The cone was a black sesame tuile with a peppery bite and crunchy texture that nicely contrasted the salmon.


1a: "Torchon de Foie de Lotte"
Green Apple Gelée, Crystallized Apple Chip and Sterling White Sturgeon Caviar. Here, I noted an initial fishiness from the foie de lotte, or monkfish liver, which was definitely stronger than most preparations of ankimo I've had. It was a bit off-putting at first, but then the sweetness of the apple became apparent, right before the dish finished with the salty tang of caviar.


1b: "Oysters and Pearls"
"Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters and Sterling White Sturgeon Caviar. Scratch what I said above about the Coronets, this is Keller's signature dish. Of course, I had the same dish at French Laundry, but with Beau Soleil instead of Island Creek oysters. In any case, the oyster was actually not the focal point of flavor for me. The key was to eat everything together, to get the oyster as well as the cool brininess of caviar contrasting with the creaminess of tapioca--a magnificent multilayered study in texture and temperature.



Complementary Course: Calf's Brain and Scrambled Egg with Shaved White Truffles
Now this was a surprise. I initially thought that this was a course from the Offal Tasting Menu, but knew that wasn't the case when my dining companion also received the dish. We were told that this was calf's brain, which, coincidentally, I'd only had once before--at French Laundry. I was surprised once more when the truffle box was brought out, containing one of the largest white truffles I'd ever seen (the "smallest one we have" according to our truffle shaver). The consistency of the brain was soft, but not too creamy, actually quite similar to the scrambled egg. Flavor-wise, this was a bit milder and thus more palatable than the one I had earlier--a little like sweetbreads--while the truffles added simply abundant amounts of their signature pungent, earthy aroma. It was a near perfect pairing. I'm still not sure why we received this special gift. Perhaps it was because we talked about our experiences at French Laundry, or perhaps because we mentioned that we had been interested in the recent series of 20-course dinners Keller held with his famed protégé Grant Achatz (of Alinea fame). A very kind gesture, it shall remain a mystery.


2a: "Confit de Langue de Bœuf"
Horseradish-Scented Kendall Farms' Crème Fraîche, Roasted Heirloom Beets and Red Watercress with Red Wine Vinegar Sauce. This was easily the tenderest beef tongue I've ever had; sliced thin, it was almost like ham in texture. Its flavor was also extremely delicate, and thus really relied on the horseradish, beet, and tangy vinegar for support. About as light and refreshing as offal can get I imagine.


2b: Terrine of Hudson Valley Moulard Duck Foie Gras ($45.00 supplement)
Black Winter Truffles, Frisée Lettuce and Balsamic Reduction with Toasted Brioche. This was one supplement I just had to get. I sampled the "Moulard Duck Foie Gras Terrine" on my visit to French Laundry, and it turned out to be the best foie gras I'd ever had; a comparison was absolutely necessary. But alas, there was no comparison--the Laundry's was better, an impossibly high standard. That's not to say that there was anything wrong here. Though it could've be a touch saltier, it was still among the best preparations of foie gras I've tried, and went wonderfully with the frisée, balsamic, and brioche especially.


3a: "Aile de Raie Farcie aux Crêtes de Coq"
Braised Red Cabbage with Whole Grain Mustard Emulsion. When this came out, I didn't know what it was; I thought it was just fish. Turns out it was skate stuffed with cockscombs, or chicken crests. I had eaten skate a couple nights earlier at Le Bernardin, and comparatively, this was a firmer, more savory presentation, which my dining companion likened to a McDonald's Filet-O-Fish! The combs themselves were pretty nondescript, and contributed simple saltiness to the dish, while the cabbage added a bit of tangy sweetness.


3b: Fillet of Mackerel "Cuit à l'Huile d'Olive"
Saffron Poached Yukon Gold Potatoes, Caramelized Cauliflower and Shallot Shoot with Saffron-Espelette "Aigre-Doux." The mackerel, barely cooked in olive oil, was actually quite fishy, the skin especially, but had a very delicate, silky flesh. It wasn't too far off from what I had at Le Bernardin actually. An aigre-doux or agrodolce is a sweet and sour sauce, and it really helped temper the strong flavor of the fish, as did the heavy vegetables. The result was a superbly balanced dish.


4a: "Trippa Piccata"
Monterey Bay Abalone, Globe Artichokes, Meyer Lemon and Parsley Chips with "Sauce Piccata." This was tripe (cow's stomach lining), done "piccata" style, meaning dredged in flour, sautéed, and served with lemon and spice. The tripe was actually not very distinctive, and could've really been nearly any fried meat. Rather, it was the abalone that stole the show; the two generous portions were extraordinarily tender, almost not like abalone in texture in fact, and marvelously delicious. Both tripe and abalone were complemented by the super-sour suprêmes of Meyer lemon.


4b: Butter Poached Nova Scotia Lobster
Confit of Fennel, Niçoise Olives and "Mousseline des Topinambours." I'd had a version of butter-poached lobster at French Laundry as well, and compared to that, this was a bit tougher and lacking in the former's creamy crispness unfortunately. I liked the tartness of the Jerusalem artichoke mousseline (hollandaise with cream), as well as the slight pungency of the fennel, but the dish was forgettable overall.


5a: "Bacon and Eggs"
Crispy Four Story Hill Farm's Pig Tail, Deviled Quail Egg, Haricot Verts and Frisée Lettuce with "Sauce Ravigote." I don't think I've had pig's tail before, but it turned out surprisingly lean (I was expecting something really oily for some reason), tender, and almost like pulled pork in consistency. Thus, I liked the contrast between the aforementioned interior and the tail's hard, crispy outside, which reminded me of a croquette. I'm generally a fan of deviled eggs and the version here turned out very well--the first time I've had quail egg done this way. A fairly rich dish, the medley was lightened up by the vegetables as well as the Ravigote--a tart vinegar-based sauce seasoned with onion, capers, and herbs.


5b: Herb Roasted Cavendish Farm's Quail
"Jambonette en Crépinette," Turnip "Mostarda," Blood Orange "Suprêmes" and Sylvetta with Quail Jus. A crépinette is a small sausage, and a jambonette is a stuffed poultry leg, so this was a sort of quail sausage made from a quail leg. I had a similar thing, albeit on a much larger scale (with the whole bird involved), at Leatherby's Cafe Rouge in Costa Mesa. In any case, it was quite delicious--juicy, tender, and flavorful--while the breast portion was a touch leaner and milder, but still tasty. The mostarda was a condiment made from candied turnips, and along with the blood oranges, lent a sweet/sour flavor to the quail that unfortunately didn't quite sit well with me; the bird stood on its own. The sylvetta (a type of arugula), meanwhile, was there pretty much for decoration only.


6a: All Day Braised Elysian Fields Farm's Lamb Neck
"Ris d'Agneau," "Pommes Boulangères" and Tokyo Turnips with Lamb Sauce. The lamb and sweetbreads were formed together into one rich, tender, decadent piece. Perhaps even better were the pommes boulangères, or "bakery potatoes," basically a gratin of thin-sliced potatoes, named so because traditionally they were given to bakers to cook in a bread oven. I also enjoyed the juicy bitterness of the Tokyo turnips, which did their part in tempering the heaviness of the lamb and potatoes.


6b: Elysian Fields Farm's "Selle d'Agneau Rôtie Entière"
Herb-Scented "Panisse," Sweet Peppers, English Cucumber and Meyer Lemon Coulis with Lamb Sauce. Compared to the braised lamb, this saddle was much milder and a bit tougher, resulting in a somewhat flat piece of lamb, which was not helped by the overly-tart lemon coulis. The block-like panisse, by the way, is a creation from Northern Italy/Southern France made from fried chickpeas. This was my first time having it, and it was absolutely lovely, almost like a potato cake--the best part of the dish.


With the cheese courses, we received three new types of bread: mustard, cranberry, and pecan.


7a: "Pecorino Pepato"
Salumeria Biellese "Guanciale," Confit of Eggplant and "Salsa Verde." Pecorino Pepato is a type of Italian sheep's milk cheese infused with peppercorns. It had a great texture and was moderately spicy, but was overshadowed by the guanciale, a type of bacon made with pork cheeks, sourced from Salumeria Biellese in New York. The guanciale lent an extremely "porky" flavor to the whole dish, and, along with the eggplant and tart salsa verde, made the course a bit too in-your-face for me.


7b: "Manchester"
Compressed Mutsu Apples, Celery Branch Filaments and Marcona Almond Butter. Manchester is a goat's milk cheese produced by Peter Dixon at Consider Bardwell Dairy in Vermont. Milder and nuttier than the Pecorino, it went superbly with the crisp tartness of the Mutsu (a.k.a. Crispin) apples and celery. A simple, light presentation of cheese.


8a: Hudson Valley Moulard Duck Foie Gras "Parfait"
Per Se Raisins, Juniper-Tellicherry Pepper Melba and Sultana Coulis. Due to its high fat content, foie gras can be made into a sort of ice cream, as I found out for the first time here. Eating it was honestly a bit disconcerting, as the flavor of the foie really was apparent, but the texture and temperature just seemed incongruous. I noted strong foie gras flavors initially, which then gave way to the thick sweetness of the melba and sultana (grape) coulis, finally yielding once again to foie gras. A fascinating dessert.


8b: Pineapple Quince-Cider Sorbet
"Pain au Lait," Rice Pudding and Maple Gelée. Humorously, as soon as I took a bite of this, I stated that it was "like eating a scented candle." I noted strong fruit, vanilla, and medicinal notes, and the effect was further heightened by the textural mélange of rice pudding and bread. Interesting, but not entirely pleasant.


9a: "Jam Roly-Poly"
Pumpkin Jam, Chestnut Steamed Pudding and Smoked Bone Marrow with Four Spice Ice Cream. The name here is not a reference to the pill bug, but to the traditional British dessert (rolled suet pudding with jam). The dessert had a great spicy kick to it from the ice cream, and I really appreciated the crunchiness and savoriness of the bone marrow, along with the textural contrast of the whole amalgam. Probably my favorite of the four desserts.


9b: "Mille-Feuille de Poire"
Walnut Mousse, Confit Bosc Pears, Candied Walnuts and Licorice Ice Cream. I didn't get much licorice from the ice cream; rather, it was a cinnamon-y spice that got my attention, along with the crispness of the pear. The "Mille-Feuille" was a bit of a letdown. Tasty, but not nearly as interesting as the other desserts.



Mignardises 1
The first round of after-dinner goodies began with a Yogurt Pot de Crème with Guava Jam and a selection of chocolates. The yogurt was mild, with a bit of tartness, but was mostly there for body and contrast, as the main flavor came from the guava jam. As with French Laundry, there was also a crème brûlée option, which we were offered upon inquiring. The chocolates were: Chuao (solid dark chocolate from Venezuela), honey-thyme, hazelnut, cherry-vanilla, fennel, maple-pecan, raspberry, and vanilla.




Mignardises 2
Next, we were brought bowls containing Housemade Hard Candies and Chocolate Covered Hazelnuts, which we didn't eat much of, leaving us to wonder if they're reused among diners. Next was the familiar tri-level metal container, filled with Salted Caramels (soft and slightly salty), Walnut and Cherry Nougat, and finally, three types of truffles: White Chocolate with Coconut, Milk Chocolate with Caramel (wonderfully savory), and Amedei Dark Chocolate (my favorite).


As a parting gift, we were given two boxes of the treats above. This was in place of the normal takeaway, which I believe was some sort of cookie.

As expected, comparisons to French Laundry would be inevitable. Thus, in that vein, my feelings were that Per Se wasn't quite as good. Now, this was a great meal, which I enjoyed dearly, and I'd definitely go back to Per Se; but at the same time, I didn't feel that the flavors or the presentation had the finesse and elegance of French Laundry. It's close, but not quite there. Per Se is supposed to be an urban interpretation of French Laundry, but somehow I get the feeling that it's still reeling in its big brother's shadow. Per Se's setting in Manhattan and its resulting supply of raw materials make it necessarily different than Laundry; it cannot be merely a copy. On the flip side though, Per Se can never forget where it came from. It's a tough balancing act, so maybe it'll just take some time to figure out.

Interestingly, a friend of mine from New York recently dined at French Laundry after experiencing Per Se, and her conclusion was that it was Laundry that wasn't up to snuff (although she says that may have been attributable to Corey Lee's absence that night). I strongly suspect that had I eaten there instead of at Per Se, it still wouldn't have lived up to my first experience. That really brings up an issue that I've been struggling with as of late. Perhaps I'm the problem, not the restaurant. As you eat more and more, at better and better places, your palate evolves. You become more knowledgeable, more discerning, and more picky. I've certainly noticed that I'm much more critical now than I was when I started this blog, being able to pick up on more nuances, more subtleties, and more flaws. This is troubling to some extent, as it means that it takes more to impress. To really wow me, it seems like something can no longer be just delicious, it has to have novelty, something new, something unique. I've dined at enough of the "best" restaurants that I'm left to wonder: where do I go from here?

Jean Georges (New York, NY)

Jean Georges
1 Central Park W, New York, NY 10023
212-299-3900
www.jean-georges.com
Sat 12/20/2008, 09:45p-12:40a



After the symphony of seafood at Le Bernardin, it was time to sample the food of award-winning chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Though Vongerichten was born, raised, and trained in France, his cuisine is perhaps most notable for its Asian influence, a result of his many years spent cooking in Asia. From this, Vongerichten established his philosophy of "vibrant and spare cuisine," or cuisine that eschews traditional meat-based stocks for the clarity and power of fruit-, vegetable, and herb-derived juices, oils, and broths. As a result, Jean Georges features an approach to fine dining that blends this mantra of "light intensity" along with French, American, and Indochinese ingredients and techniques.

It would be interesting to see how Jean Georges holds up, given that Vongerichten's attention is now spread over such a vast culinary empire. He commands no less than 18 restaurants throughout the world, concentrated in New York. In addition to his flagship Jean Georges, Vongerichten also maintains JoJo, Matsugen, Mercer Kitchen, Nougatine, Perry St, Spice Market, and Vong in the City. However, both Vongerichten and his customers understand that his reputation rests squarely on Jean Georges, the centerpiece of his culinary universe.


The restaurant is located on the ground floor of the 52-story Philip Johnson- and Costas Kondylis-designed Trump International Hotel and Tower, near the juncture of Columbus Circle and Central Park.


Adam Tihany conceived the taupe-tinged space (reminiscent of TRU in Chicago), which is divided into two dining areas: the 70-seat Jean Georges (pictured above and the focus of this blog) and Nougatine, a more casual eatery next door. Outdoor dining is available on the Mistral Terrace, an even more casual establishment.


Here we have Jean-Georges' dinner menu. A four-course prix fix menu option is available, but we chose to try both the Autumn Menu [$148.00], composed with seasonally-available ingredients, and the Jean-Georges Menu [$148.00], constructed of Vongerichten's signature dishes. Jean Georges also offers a prix fix lunch, which I hear is quite a steal. Note the signature of Chef de Cuisine Mark LaPico. Click for larger versions.


The wines by the glass and specialty cocktails menus are shown above. Prices are fairly reasonable given the stature of the restaurant, and I appreciated the offering of smaller 3oz tasting portions of wine. Click for larger versions.


As regular readers know, I have a penchant for mojitos, so it's interesting for me to compare the characteristics of preparations between various restaurants. Jean Georges' version [$13.00] was clean and crisp, featuring strong alcoholic notes along with plenty of citrus tang; overall, a competent, but not outstanding drink. As for wine:

• Guy Charlemagne, Brut Rosé, Mesnil-Sur-Oger NV [$14.50/3oz] - Light, dry, and slightly austere. Beautiful ruby color with strawberry and lemon on the palate, layered on a minerally base. Perhaps a bit simplistic, but it works.
• Côte de Nuits-Villages, Louis Jadot Le Vaucrain, Burgundy, France 2005 [$9.00/3oz] - A straightforward, approachable Burgundy. I noted plenty of light red fruit, cassis, smoke, and spice, on top of a tart, tannic backdrop. A little closed, this could probably benefit from some more age.

I had high hopes for the bread service, but the duo of a French roll and a sourdough rye seemed uninspired, especially in this setting. Compare this to the seven types of bread I was offered at Le Bernardin.



Amuse Bouche: Cauliflower-Cumin Hibiscus Soup / Smoked Salmon with Cilantro Crème Fraîche / Clementine With Chili Salt
A trio of amuses to kick things off. First up was the soup. The nose was nondescript, but the flavor was rich in cauliflower on the attack, while the finish was tangy and a bit spicy--I rather liked it. The salmon, meanwhile, was a fairly standard preparation save for the piquancy of cilantro--tasty but typical. Finally, we were given a slice of clementine, a tangerine-like citrus fruit--I figure it was supposed to be sweet and spicy, but I didn't really get it.


1a: Egg Toast, Caviar and Dill
Unfortunately, the salty tang of caviar was lost amongst the heaviness of the egg and toast, which really was the focus here. Though still tasty, the flavors were a bit muddled and the dish was outclassed by the corresponding Egg Caviar course.


1b: Egg Caviar
I've had several variations of this dish throughout my dining adventures, but this was easily one of the best interpretations. I noted an absolutely lovely temperature and texture contrast. First was the warm creaminess of egg, then the coolness of crème fraîche, finally ending with the zest of caviar and even a bit of spice. Excellent.


2a: Kanpachi Sashimi, Sherry Vinaigrette and Toasted Pecans
The presentation here was interesting to say the least. The kanpachi, or greater amberjack, formed a competent sashimi on its own, augmented by the pungency of the sherry. However, the key was the pecan "dust." Though not particularly strong in flavor, the dust added a fanciful "fluffiness" to the dish that was positively unique, though one could also argue that it distracted from the fish.


2b: Sea Scallops, Caramelized Cauliflower, Caper-Raisin Emulsion
The scallops were just a bit firmer than I prefer, but still quite tender. I've not had them paired with cauliflower like this before, but the combination worked very well. The crunch of the cauliflower played nicely with the scallops, and their vegetal flavor complemented the mild saltiness of the mollusks. The caper-raisin sauce, meanwhile, was rather tart, but provided a platform that linked everything here together.


3a: Nishiki Risotto with Porcini Marmalade and Five Herbs
"Nishiki" refers to Yamada Nishiki, a short grain Japanese rice commonly used to brew sake. A light and bright risotto, the rice here was a bit firmer than I like unfortunately. The dish's main flavor was the porcini, and while tasty, I would've liked the herbs to have been more apparent.


3b: Young Garlic Soup with Thyme, Sautéed Frog Legs
The soup was surprisingly light, and even a bit sweet; the garlic was there, but didn't dominate at all. I rather liked the frog legs, which tasted like chicken (clichéd I know) and added some much-needed weight and savoriness to the course. Quite nice.


A finger bowl with a lovely citrus scent was brought out after the frog legs--definitely a classy touch.


4a: Crispy Black Bass, Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Spiced Apple Jus
Unfortunately, the skin was hard rather than crispy, despite appearances; the bass at Le Bernardin was much better in this regard. Interestingly, I tasted chocolate in the fish (which otherwise was fairly straightforward), though this was tempered significantly by the potato purée and the Brussels sprouts, which were superb.


4b: Turbot with Château Chalon Sauce
Château Chalon refers to the Savagnin-sourced vin jaune wines from the Jura region of France. The sauce thus had a slightly wine-tinged flavor, but was also quite rich and "eggy", though mild. It added some well-placed color to the turbot, which was nicely tender, though a bit boring; it actually reminded me the skate at Le Bernardin. Meanwhile, the vegetables placed atop the fish went a long way in adding some textural contrast to the dish.


5a: Maine Lobster and Potato Gnocchi, Smoked Butter and Pickled Chilies
The lobster was a tad tougher than I would've liked, while the gnocchi were a touch softer. I liked the spiciness of the chilies and the bitterness of the greens, but would've liked their flavors to have been brighter. Overall, not a bad dish, but a forgettable one.


5b: Lobster Tartine, Lemongrass and Fenugreek Broth, Pea Shoots
This lobster dish was much more tender, and much better I thought. The use of lemongrass and fenugreek gave the dish a fantastic Indian-style flair, while the pea greens added a light vegetal and minty flavor. Delicious.


Special: Sweetbreads with Black Truffle and Chestnuts [$38.00]
Tasting this dish was like tasting the very marrow of autumn. The sweetbreads were softer than usual, and quite powerful in their gamy essence. In fact, they were dominant over the truffle, which didn't come to the fore taste-wise, but rather served more as an aromatic component. Unfortunately, I felt the use of chestnuts was far too liberal here, as their crunchy texture and nutty flavor stole attention from everything else in the dish, sinking what could've been a phenomenal course.


6a: Roasted Venison, Quince-Madeira Condiment, Broccoli Raab and Cabrales Foam
The meat almost reminded me of a hybrid of beef and lamb; it was lean, without pronounced marbling, yet still tender. Its pairing with bitter, peppery, minty broccoli raab (which, by the way, isn't broccoli at all) worked extremely well. However, I found the quince-Madeira sauce too sweet and cherry-like in nature, and thus avoided its use.


6b: Broiled Squab, Onion Compote, Corn Pancake with Foie Gras
The bird was nicely cooked, juicy, and tender. Unfortunately, I felt that it was overspiced--I noted far too many notes of cinnamon and anise for my tastes. As for the foie gras, it was a fairly typical seared presentation, with an unctuous, heavy richness that was tempered somewhat by the corn pancake on which it sat; its pairing with the squab was a bit of a stretch for me.


For dessert, you're presented with Chef Pâtissier Johnny Iuzzini's choice of four "themes," each with four small components. We chose "Autumn" (to go along with the Autumn Menu) and "Caramel." Click for a larger version.




7a: Autumn Dessert Tasting
Clockwise from bottom-right:

• Warm Red Wine Tart, Cassis Poached Pears, Persimmon Ice Cream - The buttery, crumbly tart was quite tasty on its own, and was well-accented by the tartness of the poached fruit, which was then counterbalanced by the creaminess of the ice cream.
• Cranberry Parfait, Walnut Nougatine, Soft Vanilla Meringue - The flavor here wasn't what grabbed my attention. Rather, it was an interesting study in textural contrast--between crunchy, hard nougatine and parfait, and between the parfait and the airiness of the burnt meringue.
• Cinnamon Doughnut, Prune-Armagnac Jam - The overall effect of the pastry and jam was not dissimilar to that of eating a jelly-filled doughnut. Simple, but effective.
• Concord Grape Snow Cone - A classy take on a childhood favorite, this was indeed like a grape snow cone, or to be more sophisticated, a grape granité. Note the unique piece of serviceware (called "Squid"), which was created for use at Alinea in Chicago.

7b: Caramel Dessert Tasting
Clockwise from bottom-right:

• Warm Caramel Tart, Crispy Olive-Hazelnut Praline, Caramelized Bacon - The caramel here was extremely light, and went rather well with the smoky, nutty praline and crunchy whole hazelnuts. Unfortunately, the bacon component wasn't really apparent.
• Caramel Curd, Dehydrated Sponge, Roasted Pineapple Sorbet - The caramel "noodle" really took back seat to the sorbet, which, despite being pineapple, had a distinct "peachiness" to it. Both items were nicely contrasted by the sponge and crispy tuiles.
• Frozen Chocolate Pop, Coffee-Cardamom Ice Cream - A surprisingly hard chocolate shell surrounds a filling of ice cream. Tasty, but I really didn't detect much caramel here.
• Vanilla Soda, Liquid Caramel Sphere - This was certainly the most memorable of the desserts--a caramel spherification in a vanilla tincture. The result was an astringent, herbal, medicinal flavor with just a hint of caramel. Not entirely pleasant.

Mignardises
After dessert, a myriad of mignardises were brought to the table: ginger, pomegranate, and chestnut macarons; vanilla, raspberry, and banana marshmallows; raspberry-beet and apple gelées; and an assortment of chocolates. Overall, a competent, though not particularly exciting, spread.

For the most part, the cuisine was "vibrant" and "spare," as advertised. The food was light, yet bold, and certainly not lacking in flavor, traits I thought were especially apparent in the Lobster Tartine, Sea Scallops, and Young Garlic Soup dishes. So despite Vongerichten's absence in the kitchen at Jean Georges, I'm happy to report that the food has held up just fine, though certainly the place had its share of misses--the Broiled Squab and Sweetbreads were the most notable disappointments. Nevertheless, I did enjoy my dinner here, and as with Le Bernardin, any mistakes were not egregious enough to threaten the meal as a whole. So Chef Vongerichten--it looks like your empire is secure...for now.

Gray's Papaya (New York, NY)

Gray's Papaya
402 6th Ave, New York, NY 10011
212-260-3532
www.fooddigger.com/RestaurantDetail.aspx?id=24249 (FoodDigger, restaurant has no web site)
Sat 12/20/2008, 02:35p-02:45p



After having my fill at Papaya King, it was time to try out its closest competitor: Gray's Papaya. Gray's has three locations in Manhattan, with the one on 6th Ave being the original I'm told. The original Gray's Papaya was started by Papaya King partner Nicholas Gray as a copy of the King in 1972.


Gray's Papaya was quite a trek from Papaya King, and we ended up taking the 4/5/6-Lexington Avenue line to the F-Sixth Avenue line. From there, Gray's Papaya was a quick walk from the W 4th St Station.


Recession Special [$4.45]
Gray's Papaya is most well-known for its "Recession Special," consisting of two frankfurters and a drink. The combo was priced at $1.95 throughout most of the 1990's, but increased in cost in 2002 and 2006. In any case, as with Papaya King, Gray's also uses a Sabrett-sourced dog, and thus unsurprisingly, the frankfurter was similar to the King's in flavor, though the casing didn't have as much snap. In terms of cooking, the two places seem to use a similar method, and I didn't notice much difference in the sauerkraut or the mustard toppings. And as with Papaya King, the bun wasn't as grilled as much as I would've liked.

In terms of drinks, Gray's has a similar flavor variety to Papaya King--Orange, Grape, Piña Colada, Coconut Champagne, and Banana Daiquiri--but again, we decided to go with papaya to have a common basis for comparison. The taste was rather similar between the two, but the drink here was much thinner in consistency and not as rich or creamy, but with perhaps a bit more fruit. We preferred the King's.

So in this Papaya battle, I'd have to cede victory to the King, due to its snappier hot dog casing and creamier drink. However, given that there are multiple locations of each restaurant, and further day-to-day variations amongst those, the Papaya war is far from over. And given more time and more stomach capacity, I would've liked to have thrown Papaya Dog into the mix as well, or even Nathan's. The issue of who's top dog is still under contention.

---

Since Gray's Papaya and Papaya King both use frankfurters sourced from Sabrett, we thought it'd be fitting to try a dog from a Sabrett street vendor. These dogs are affectionately known as "dirty water dogs" due to the fact that they're cooked in pools of water before serving. This particular cart was located on the southwest corner of 7th and 45th in Midtown Manhattan.


As before, I had my frankfurter topped with kraut. Not surprisingly, the taste was again very similar to what I had at Gray's Papaya and Papaya King. The difference here was the texture of the casing. It lacked any snap or crunch, and blended into the body of the hot dog itself. I suspect this was because of the "dirty water" cooking method, as the dogs are not grilled. The sauerkraut was also somewhat mushier, though still tart and tangy in flavor.

The price of admission was $2.00 per, considerably more than a single dog at either of the Papayas. Considering it wasn't as tasty as either of those, I guess you do pay a price for convenience and instant gratification.

Papaya King (New York, NY)

Papaya King
179 E 86th St, New York, NY 10028
212-369-0648
www.papayaking.com
Sat 12/20/2008, 01:45p-01:55p



Now with deli and pizza out of the way, it was time for me to experience a true New York hot dog, and Papaya King was the first place that came to mind. The King actually has a number of locations (including three in Manhattan and one in New Jersey), but I wanted to go to the original on 86th St on the Upper East Side. Originally founded in 1931 by Gus Poulos, the restaurant was named Papaya King because it originally sold only tropical fruit drinks, though it quickly expanded to selling hot dogs due to the large German population in the vicinity. Because of its success, the chain has spawned two "Papaya" competitors--Gray's Papaya and Papaya Dog.


Here we see the exterior of the original building. Interestingly, on March 22, 2007, the location was shut down briefly by the Health Department after the news program Inside Edition found rats inside the premises.


The interior is suitably cramped. There is no seating; rather, patrons can stand next to counters along the windows. Overall, not a comfortable dining experience.


Original Special [$4.59]
The Original Special includes two hot dogs with sauerkraut, onions, or relish and a 16oz Tropical Drink. We chose kraut, the preferred New York topping I'm told. The Sabrett-sourced frankfurter itself was quite tasty, among the best I've had. I really liked the snap of the natural casings, which is heightened by the cooking method of griddling atop a flat-top grill. The kraut, meanwhile, added a nice sourness to contrast the savory flavor of the beef. This sourness was further augmented by the use of mustard, which we added later. The bun, however, would've been better grilled.

As for the drink, there are a number of flavors available, including Mango, Coconut Champagne, Piña Colada, Banana Daquiri, and Strawberry Supreme, but seeing how this was the Papaya King, I had to go with the original. Even though I'm not a huge fan of papayas in general, the drink was quite delicious. Its flavor was not distinctly papaya, which was key, and the drink had a rich, smooth creaminess that hinted of dairy; it wasn't merely juice.

The Papaya King has become synonymous with the New York hot dog, and really is a culinary beacon of the city, appealing to people from all walks of life, from locals to tourists, the marginalized to the gentility. It's simple, straightforward, unpretentious food, but at the same time represents a true dining destination, one definitely worth a visit if you're ever in town.

Le Bernardin (New York, NY)

Le Bernardin
155 W 51st St, New York, NY 10019
212-554-1515
www.le-bernardin.com
Fri 12/19/2008, 10:00p-12:15a



Le Bernardin (named after a folk song--"Les Moines de St. Bernardin") was first opened in Paris in 1972 by brother and sister team Gilbert and Maguy Le Coze, and has always been unique for its singular focus on seafood. In 1986, the duo moved to New York, establishing Le Bernardin as we know it today. Gilbert, the head chef, passed away in 1994 of a heart attack, and was subsequently replaced by current Executive Chef Eric Ripert.

Ripert was born and trained in France, having worked in such notable establishments as La Tour d'Argent and Jamin, under Joël Robuchon. After coming to the US in 1989, he moved to New York in 1991 to work for David Bouley, before starting at Le Bernardin shortly thereafter. Ripert, for his part, has become somewhat of a celebrity chef in his own right, having authored three books, as well as appearing on a number of television cooking shows (including being a guest judge on Top Chef). Ripert has also expanded his culinary empire beyond the walls of Le Bernardin, opening restaurants in Washington DC, Philadelphia, and even on Grand Cayman Island, all in collaboration with the Ritz-Carlton. Unfortunately, during our visit, Ripert had already left for the night.


Le Bernardin is located on the ground floor of The Equitable Center building in midtown Manhattan. We actually got a little lost while walking there from Times Square (despite what Google Maps says, turn right on 51st, not left!).


The interior is teeming in light wood, giving the room a somewhat nautical ambiance. It is a single, large room, with private dining rooms off to one side and the bar area on the other.


The mojito here was tasty, but not nearly as complex as the one I had at Adour. Comparatively, it had a straightforward sweetness, with more citrus and very little alcohol. Interestingly, I wasn't charged for the drink, perhaps because it was brought to the table a bit late.



Le Bernardin's menu is shown above; click for larger versions. To sample the most we could, we chose the Chef's Tasting Menu [$185.00] as well as the Le Bernardin Tasting Menu [$135.00]. The Chef's Tasting was an eight-course meal, while the other was a seven-course, so we just inserted one additional course into the mix to balance things out. In addition, there was a four-course prix fix menu option, with choices that comprise the tasting menus.


The wines by the glass and other libations are presented above; click for larger versions. I was able to sample three wines:

• Riesling, 'Lenz', Emrich Schönleber, Nabe, Germany 2007 [$17.00] - This was not what I was expecting from a Riesling. It had a nose devoid of the typical floral and fruity notes of Riesling, and was almost Burgundian in nature. On the palate, there were far more mineral and vegetal flavors than anticipated. Though not what I was expecting, I did still enjoy the wine.
• Blaufränkisch "Brandkraften" Wenzel, Neusiedlersee-Hügelland, Austria 2002 [$23.00] - Blaufränkisch is a varietal I'd never experienced before. It was a spicy, smoky, acidic wine, with notes of cherry--Pinot Noir would probably be the closest thing I can think of.
• Chateauneuf du Pape blanc, Château La Nerthe, Grenache blanc/Roussanne, Rhône 2007 [$23.00] - An earthy, weighty wine with hints of grass, stone fruit, and melon leading to a long, juicy finish. It stood up well to the heavier fish courses I had.

A selection of seven breads was provided, the most since my meal at Joël Robuchon. I recall raisin, rosemary, sourdough, and seven grain, among others. The breads weren't served exactly piping hot, but the temperature was an improvement over the cold bread at Adour the previous night.


Amuse Bouche: Celery Soup with Lobster and Lobster Cream
This lobster bisque-like soup was a warm, hearty way to start things off. I noted an initial aroma of mostly celery with just a hint of lobster. But after tasting, the lobster really came to the fore, followed by a celery finish with an inkling of pepper.


1a: Salmon-Caviar
Thinly Pounded Smoked Salmon Carpaccio; Toasted Brioche and Caviar. Organic Scottish salmon, crème fraîche, a generous dollop of Osetra from Italy, brioche--all the makings of a classic dish. I enjoyed the salmon by itself, but it was the saltiness of the caviar that really came to my attention here. The toasty brioche, meanwhile, did add a nice textural contrast to the otherwise creamy elements of the dish. Interestingly, my dining companion noted that, intentional or not, the dish resembled a certain part of the female anatomy...


1b: Fluke
White Soy-Yuzu Marinated Fluke; Seaweed and Spice "Rice Crispies." The fluke by itself wasn't particularly exciting, and reminded me a bit of the hamachi at Adour. However, the brininess of the seaweed was successful in drawing out the true nature of the fish, and the rice crisps added a fanciful crunchy textural contrast.


2a: Mackerel
Seared Spanish Mackerel; Parmesan Crisp and Sun-Dried Tomato; Black Olive Oil. This made me think of a crudo; the fish was lightly cooked, and thus still had plenty of that signature mackerel fishiness. This was very apparent, but certainly not overpowering, and was well complemented by the use of olive oil and lemon, two ingredients that stood up admirably to the strength of the mackerel. I actually would've preferred larger pieces of the fish, in order to better experience the consistency and body of the mackerel.


2b: Scallop
Ultra Rare Scallop-Sake Nage; Lily Bulb and Shiso. Barely cooked and ultra tender, the scallop was only one step away from a sashimi preparation. The mollusk itself was rather mild; rather, it was the broth which really formed the main flavor thrust of the dish. Anchored by the use of shiso and sake, the broth had a distinctively sweet-salty Asian twang that was lovely. I really appreciated the lily bulb in the center of the dish, which reminded me of a crisp piece of daikon; it really balanced the softness of the scallop. However, as with the mackerel, I would've liked thicker slices, to better gauge its texture.


3a: Calamari
Sautéed Calamari filled with Sweet Prawns and Shiitake Mushroom; Calamari Consommé. This was perhaps the tenderest calamari I'd ever experienced. The squid by itself was very mild, and thus the stuffing of prawns and shiitake was what really drove this dish, adding much needed weight and depth. The small piece of calamari in the center of the dish was immensely flavorful on the other hand, and was probably the best deep fried squid I've had.


3b: Salmon
Barely Cooked Organic Scottish Salmon; Water Chestnuts and Pea Tendrils; Gingered Baby Bok Choy and Citrus Emulsion. I don't think I've had salmon quite like this before. There was a definite doneness gradient at play here, with the bottom of the fish cooked through, while the top was at a near-sashimi rareness. It was a fascinating way to prepare the salmon, and for me, this progression, the tasting of all different textures and temperatures at once, was key to the dish. Fortunately, the citrus sauce accompanying the fish was just slightly sweet and not too dominant, letting the salmon sing, while I definitely enjoyed the use of bok choy as an accoutrement.


4a: Lobster
Baked Lobster; Salsify; Sauce Gribiche. Gribiche is an egg-based sauce in the same vein as tartare sauce, and can be made with shallots, pickles, parsley, capers, oil, vinegar, chervil, and tarragon. I believe this was only my second time tasting it, the first being at Joe's in Venice. The sauce lent a distinct tartness to the dish, which contrasted the natural sweetness of the lobster. The lobster itself was very well-cooked--soft and tender, yet with a delightful bite. Overall, a delicious dish.


Supplement: Sea Urchin [$24.00]
Sea Urchin Risotto; Toasted Nori; Urchin-Citrus Emulsion. When we saw this dish on the menu, we just knew we had to order it as a supplement. Unfortunately, I didn't feel that the flavor of uni was apparent enough. I only got a hint of that rich, unctuous, sweet, ocean-y flavor that sea urchin roe is known for. Perhaps the citrus was responsible for diminishing the uni's flavor? As for the risotto alone, it was a pleasing al dente preparation--good but not outstanding.


5a: Escolar
White Tuna Poached in Extra Virgin Olive Oil; Sea Beans and Potato Crisps; Light Red Wine Béarnaise. The was one of the oiliest pieces of fish I'd ever eaten, which is to be expected from escolar, also known as "oilfish." As a result, it was extremely tender, rich, and heavy--one of the better preparations of escolar I've had. The weight of the fish necessitated the use of a heavier sauce, and the Béarnaise fit that role well. I understood the attempt at using the potato crisps as a textural contrast, but in this case, the difference was almost too much.


4b: Skate
Skate 'au bambou'; Cellophane Noodle and Wood Ear Mushroom; Spiced Bamboo Broth. I think this was actually my first time having skate. I found the fish enjoyable, soft and mildly flaky, but not particularly distinctive. The bamboo broth was similarly mild in composition, and resulted in a somewhat flat dish. However, the course was saved by the fantastic crunchiness of the wood ear topping.


6a: Black Bass
Crispy Black Bass; Braised Celery and Parsnip Custard; Iberico Ham-Green Peppercorn Sauce. A lovely, flaky texture on the bass here, but for me, the crisp, savory skin was the real standout. The only thing wrong was the large piece of celery on the bottom of the dish, which I didn't care for at all and which seemed out of place. As for the parsnip custard, I found it tasty but a bit sweet, and didn't quite get the pairing with the bass.


5b: Monkfish
Pan Roasted Monkfish; Israeli Couscous Tabbouleh; Black Garlic and Persian Lemon Sauce. The monkfish proved fairly interesting, as the flesh had a unique, spongy texture that was rather uncommon. The flavor, on the other hand, wasn't as endearing, though I did appreciate the fish's peppery exterior. The tabbouleh, meanwhile, formed a light, refreshing counterweight to the heaviness of the fish.


7a: Fig
Roasted Fig, Goat Cheese Parfait, Hazelnut, Red Wine Caramel, Bacon Ice Cream. Though this course was named "Fig," the bacon ice cream really stole the show for me. It tasted better than I thought it would, actually fairly light and reminiscent of Bac-Os. The parfait was also quite tasty, with just a mild tang of goat cheese, and a creamy tart flavor that countered the sweetness of the fig.


6b: Panna Cotta
Greek Yogurt Panna Cotta, Pomegranate Pearls and Sorbet, Lemon Cream, Orange Peel, Mint. The yogurt panna cotta put forth a relatively heavy, yet mild creaminess that stood in stark contrast to the cold tartness of the pomegranate sorbet, a tartness which was further bolstered by the use of lemon and orange.


8a: Chocolate-Olive Oil
Dark Amedei Chocolate Ganache, Toasted Bread, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Maldon Sea Salt. Both chocolate desserts utilized chocolate from Amedei, a high-end manufacturer from Tuscany, Italy. This one had a decidedly fruity flavor initially, which eventually gave way to the more savory components of the dessert--the salt and olive oil. Overall, a masterful interplay of sweet and salty.


7b: Warm Chocolate
Warm Amedei "Chuao" Chocolate, Malted Rum Milk Chocolate Ice Cream. Chuao is a chocolate from cacao grown in Venezuela. Unfortunately, I felt its distinctiveness was largely lost in this soufflé-like presentation. You can't go wrong with soufflé and ice cream, but I would've liked to have seen more creativity.


Mignardises
Four bites to end the meal: beignet filled with vanilla cream, "pâte de jei" (it was unclear what our server said with this one) with toasted almond, white chocolate ganache with pistachio in a chocolate cup, and dark chocolate truffle. My favorite was the beignet, which actually reminded me of a cream puff.

In the end, I think Le Bernardin's commitment to seafood has largely paid off. I was able to have some of the most creative seafood-based dishes in a while here, and throughout the dozen savory courses, I kept being surprised, and delighted. Now, that's not to say everything went perfectly; rather, there were indeed a few missteps. There were several components in the dishes that didn't work with me, and the desserts in general could've used a bit more inventiveness. These lapses weren't grave enough to jeopardize the meal by any means, but at the 3-star level, they are worth considering.

Famous Original Ray's Pizza (New York, NY)

Famous Original Ray's Pizza
1710 Broadway, New York, NY 10019
212-247-7901
www.rayspizzany.com
Fri 12/19/2008, 12:40p-12:55p



When I think of New York food, the first thing that springs to mind is pizza. Thus, in my limited time here, I wanted to make sure to experience this quintessential staple.

I had heard about the dozens of "Ray's Pizza" places throughout Manhattan ("a Ray's on every corner"). These restaurants are supposedly "famous" for their pizza, but strangely do not seem to form any single franchise. The oldest Ray's was founded in 1959 in Little Italy by Ralph (Raffie) Cuomo, while the Ray's I visited claims to have been established in 1964, and has eight locations throughout the borough.


Upon entering, you place your order at the counter. Since I'd partaken in a Woody Allen at Carnegie Deli just minutes earlier, I limited myself to a single slice. It was interesting to note that all the pizza was sitting out initially, and then was placed in the oven to cook upon ordering.


We proceeded to the upstairs dining area, away from the hustle and bustle of the ground floor. The space was surprisingly empty.


Here we see the menu. Though Ray's is most known for its pizza, a wide array of other items are available, including soups, salads, sandwiches, pastas, and various Italian-style dishes. Click for larger versions.


Combo Slice (any two toppings) with Pepperoni and Sausage [$4.50]
So how was the pizza? Not bad, though not outstanding. The crust was nicely thin and crisp, with a mild flavor (in addition to the standard crust, Sicilian and Pan styles are available as well). The mozzarella cheese was fairly nondescript, as was the pepperoni. The sausage was a bit funky, however, with somewhat of a strange sourness.

All in all, a decent pizza, though nothing special. I think next time I'm in New York, I'll need to check out the real "original" Ray's on Prince and Mott and see how that one fares.

Carnegie Deli (New York, NY)

Carnegie Deli
854 7th Ave, New York, NY 10019
800-334-5606
www.carnegiedeli.com
Fri 12/19/2008, 12:00p-12:35p



When one thinks of the quintessential New York food, what is the first thing that pops to mind? Pizza perhaps, or maybe hot dogs, but surely the delicatessen must be among the top three. I was determined to visit one on my recent trip to the City, and what better place to sample than Carnegie? Sure, there's Katz's, but time and location restraints made that an impracticability.

Opened near Carnegie Hall (from which the restaurant derives its name) in 1937, Carnegie Deli is easily the most well-known deli in all of New York, and perhaps the world. The place is owned by Milton Parker and family, the deli's third generation of owners. Interestingly, though Carnegie is a "Jewish-style" deli and serves lox, latkes, matzoh and the like, the restaurant also serves items such as ham and bacon, and thus is obviously not completely kosher.


The deli is located in the upper portion of midtown Manhattan. It was a cold, windy, snowy, blustery day and I decided to walk from my hotel on 45th St wearing minimal protection--not a good idea. As can be seem in the photo above, the snow was pretty much coming down sideways.



The hostess would only seat a complete party, so I had a few minutes to wait near the entrance for my dining companions to show up. The food is prepared behind the counter, and it's here that you can order food to go. This is the also the area where you pay for your meal. Annoyingly, the restaurant does not accept credit cards.


Past the counter is a dining area (left photo). To the right of that is another dining room, where we were seated. Note how the walls of the place are covered with autographed pictures of celebrities who have eaten there.



The menu is massive, with well over 100 items, though I imagine the bulk of sales come from only a few select dishes. For example, one of my dining companions was interested in a fish dish, and our waitress told her not to get it, stating that people order it about "once a year." Irritatingly, there was a minimum charge of $12.50 per person, which was problematic for said dining companion, who wasn't feeling particularly hungry.


On your table you'll find a complementary bowl of pickles. There were two varieties; I preferred the smaller, greener ones, as they were crisper and more refreshing. My dining companions, however, liked the larger, tarter ones better, which one described as reminiscent of "Big Mac pickles."


New York Style Egg Cream [$2.75]
I initially wanted to order an ice cream soda, but was told by our waitress that they were not available; she recommended an egg cream instead. This was my first time having such a thing (egg creams being rather unknown outside of New York), and I rather liked it. It was quite fizzy, with a bit of tartness and a touch of creaminess. Not heavy at all, and surprisingly refreshing. Amazingly, the concoction contains neither egg nor cream, but is made from soda water, milk, and chocolate syrup.


French Fried Onion Rings [$5.95]
The onions rings were underwhelming. I found them far too sweet, with a batter that was soft rather than crunchy. They also had an "Asian" flavor to them, almost like a tempura.


Breakfast Sausages (2) [$3.95]
Now the breakfast sausages were tasty, though not particularly distinctive; notice how the meat is very uniform. I did appreciate the snap of the sausage casings though.


The Woody Allen [$17.95]
Here's what we really came to Carnegie for--their most famous item, The Woody Allen. As for the name, Woody Allen shot scenes in his film Broadway Danny Rose at the deli, so the item was named after him. Advertised as "for the dedicated fresser (glutton) only," this was a grotesquely beautiful mound of pastrami and corned beef, sandwiched between two utterly useless pieces of rye. Interestingly, corned beef and pastrami are actually very similar preparations of beef. They both begin life as brisket pickled in brine; but after this, the two diverge, as corned beef is subsequently boiled, while pastrami is smoked and spiced. In any case, the end result was delicious. Both meats were among the best I've eaten, though I had a preference for the pastrami due to its spicy outer layer, which gave the meat a peppery kick.

In addition to its gargantuan portions of pastrami and corned beef, Carnegie Deli is also known for its churlish wait staff. Our waitress was a prime example of such. She really reminded me of the stereotypical New York waitress who's been through it all, having being rendered a bit jaded, callous, and blunt as a result. For example, when I asked for the check, she gruffly replied that she'd get to it with her "third arm." Once nice thing she did, however, was get rid of the $12.50 per person charge by claiming that one of us was a child (or perhaps we were acting as such!). So in the end, her surliness was a bit endearing, and really part of the whole experience. Her name was Susan Palmucci and you can even see a photo of her on the front page of the Carnegie Deli web site, holding a pastrami on rye.

In the end, though not all the items we had were spectacular, Carnegie delivered where it mattered with The Woody Allen. Even one of my dining companions, a New Yorker who "didn't do delis," was suitably impressed. My only regret was not trying the cheesecake.

Adour (New York, NY)

Adour
2 E 55th St, New York, NY 10022
212.710.2277
www.adour-stregis.com
Thu 12/18/2008, 10:00p-12:40a



Ever since his eponymous 3-star restaurant at Essex House closed in 2007, Alain Ducasse had been missing from the New York culinary scene. But after a brief hiatus, Ducasse opened Adour (named after a river in southwestern France near Ducasse's hometown) in early 2008, along with his bistro concept, Benoit. The theme of Adour is somewhat unique, and ambitious: to develop a menu where the dishes and wine pairings are designed to complement each other right from the get go.


Adour is located on the main floor of the St. Regis in the heart of midtown Manhattan. The restaurant sits off to the side of Astor Court, the hotel's more casual eatery, and is somewhat easily missed.


When I arrived, my table wasn't quite ready, so I waited a few minutes in the Sommelier Bar, which is anchored by a mesmerizing array of hanging golden globules. The bar itself utilizes a unique hi-tech interactive projection system to help diners chose wine, but unfortunately, I didn't have time to play with it.


While waiting, I ordered up my standard Mojito [$20.00], which turned out to be one of the best I've had. It had a complexity missing from most variations, a perfectly balanced commixture of sweet, sour, and alcoholic flavors that was simply marvelous.


The decor is a mix of modern and traditional, a Beaux-Arts amalgam inspired by the colors of wine, with Burgundy floors and chairs melding seamlessly with Chardonnay walls and banquets. Adour is divided into a number of rooms. The largest is the Great Room (left photo), while we were seated in the River Room (right photo). Total capacity is 88, and nearly every seat in the house provides ample view of the restaurant's wine vaults.


Here we see Adour's menu; click for a larger version. We decided to do the Tasting Menu [$110.00], along with a couple of supplemental dishes that we wanted to try. Adour's Chef de Cuisine is Joel Dennis (Blue Water Grill, Aureole, TRU), who just replaced former head chef Tony Esnault. Interestingly enough, from what I've read, Esnault was booted for personal reasons but is now employed as Martha Stewart's private chef!


Since my dining companions weren't drinking this night, I decided to forego bottles and do it by the glass. What's unique about Adour is that each night, a number of jeroboams (3.0L bottles) are opened and wine from them sold by the glass. I didn't order the following wines specifically, but rather, let our server decide.

• Castelnau de Suduiraut, Sauternes, Bordeaux 2001 [$35.00] - Though of one my dining companions thought this tasted like cough medicine, I rather enjoyed it. I noted a nose typical of Sauternes of honey and apricot, which continued on to the nicely acidic palate. The wine was a lovely complement to the foie gras dish.
• René Monnier, Puligny-Montrachet, Burgundy 2006 [$32.00] - From a jeroboam. This was a classic white Burgundy, with a full, rich body and plenty of minerals on the nose as well as palate. Dry, refined, and well-balanced, it went beautifully with the lighter dishes of the meal.
• Icardi, Parej, Barolo 2001 [$48.00] - From a jeroboam. Juicy aromas here of raisin and berries, which seem to disappear once the wine is actually tasted, transforming to loads of spice and smoke, with light tannins. Was not a huge fan of this one.

The wines were solid; what shocked me were the prices. Castelnau de Suduiraut is the Château's second wine but was priced like the real deal. I was at Le Bernardin the following night, which had the same wine for only $18 a glass, half the price. And $48 a glass for the Icardi? Yikes.


We were provided a trio of breads--sourdough, baguette, and olive, along with some olive butter. My dining companions complained about the cool temperature of the breads, as well as their rather tough consistency. One also questioned the pairing of an olive butter with olive bread. I wasn't a huge fan either of the bread, but I've certainly had worse.


Amuse Bouche: Butternut Squash Soup with Chive Cream
I seem to be having quite a few squash soups as of late, after having examples at both Coi and Manresa recently. I'm not a huge fan of squash, and generally, I find such soups to be a bit on the sweet side for me. Fortunately, that wasn't the case here. The soup was just savory enough, and was further accented by the addition of chives and bits of crouton-like pieces, which added a tinge of saltiness and a lovely crunchy texture to the dish.


Supplement: Sweetbread "Meunière," Egg Purse [$24.00]
Wild Mushrooms, Brioche. Overall, this was a very strong presentation of sweetbreads. The sweetbreads themselves were richly and intensely flavored as expected, without being too gamey, and were well-accentuated by the earthiness of the mushroom. I especially appreciated the creamy yolk of the egg purse, though one of my dining companions did think that the egg white was too firm--I rather liked it. As for the brioche, I found it acceptable but unnecessary; however, some thought it was "eggy," "sweet," and even "stale."


Supplement: Duck Foie Gras Terrine, Quince Chutney Gelée [$29.00]
Huckleberry / Duck Vinaigrette, Toasted Brioche. I quite liked the presentation here, with the foie and chutney sandwich looking somewhat like a slab of bacon. In any case, the foie itself was fairly strongly flavored, and thus the quince did well to temper the muskiness of the liver. It was a wonderful accompaniment to the crunchy toasted brioche.


1: Cucumber Vinegar Marinated Hamachi
Avocado, Granny Smith, Long Pepper, Green Apple Mustard. The hamachi, taken alone, was rather plain despite the cucumber marination, and was served a bit too close to room temperature actually. For me, the key with this dish was to eat everything in one bite, which resulted in a somewhat "tropical" flavor and an interesting textural mélange of the fish, toasty bread pieces, and crisp cucumber and apple. My dining companions preferred to eat the fish with only the mustard, which one likened to tasting like a "gummy bear;" I personally thought it was more akin to a Jolly Rancher!


2: Glazed Multicolor Vegetable Composition
Natural Jus Reduction. When I saw the name of this dish on the menu, I pictured something in my mind along the lines of the "Into the Vegetable Garden" dish at Manresa or the "Garden, Late Fall" at Coi. Rather, compared to those more free-form presentations, this course was purposefully arranged and structured. The vegetables (I identified carrot, celery, leek, chestnut, beet, and apple) were thoroughly cooked, which did indeed make them lose some distinctiveness compared to a more au natural presentation. The vegetable jus, meanwhile, lent a slightly sweet backdrop to the entire dish.


3: Butter Poached Maine Lobster
Pasta Impression, Zucchini Rings, Tomato Petal. The zucchini was the crux of this course. It was clearly the most dominant flavor component here, and easily overpowered the delicate flavor of lobster if not taken in careful amounts. The pasta was fairly bland on its own, but added a great textural contrast when eaten with the rest of the dish. The lobster itself was well-cooked, though one of my dining companions did note a few overcooked pieces.


4: Duck Breast Fillet "Au Plat"
Creamy Polenta, Shallots, Radish, Niçoise Olives. The duck here was perhaps a tad overdone, giving it a bit of a tough, chewy texture. The sauce was a touch monolithic, and was dominated by the tartness of olive. I would've liked something more subtle and more complex, to let the natural flavor of the duck shine through. As for the polenta, we all thought it was some of the best we've had, though admittedly, we rarely eat it; one of my dining companions even thought it tasted like Chinese tapioca!


5: Apple Sablé
Granny Smith Sorbet, Calvados Emulsion, Vanilla Cream. "Sablé" means "sand" in French and the name comes from the crumbly nature of the cookie. Here, it formed a wonderful base for the cool, tart apple sorbet, rich vanilla cream, and light, airy Calvados foam. The crispness of the sorbet hits your first, then the other parts of the dish come into play one after another. The dish was a multilayered interplay of tastes, temperatures, and textures that resulted in a superb dessert experience. Humorously, one of my dining companions was afraid to eat the bit of gold foil on top of the ring (she was also concerned with the gold on my last trip to Urasawa); I was more than happy to eat it for her!


Mignardises
To close out the meal, we were presented with a selection of Raspberry and Chocolate Macarons and Passion Fruit and Rum-Vanilla Chocolates. All were tasty, as expected, but the raspberry macaron was notable for its especially lovely jammy center.

One of the initial criticisms of Essex House was that the place was too complex, too extravagant, too over-the-top. I've heard stories of a dozen different pens being provided to sign the check, and a similar number of knives that diners had to chose from to cut their perfectly roasted squab. Ducasse was well aware of this, and thus wanted his next restaurant, Adour, to be simpler, more straightforward, both in terms of food, and experience. But perhaps the pendulum has swung a bit too far here. Overall, I liked most everything I ate, but I kept wishing for a little more boldness, a little more lavishness, a little more "wow factor." The place is close, and has potential, and perhaps the experience was affected somewhat by the recent change in head chefs, but Ducasse and company do need to step up their game to the next level if they ever want a shot at that third étoile Michelin.

Original Tommy's (Los Angeles, CA)

Original Tommy's
2575 Beverly Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90057
213.389.9060
www.originaltommys.com
Thu 12/11/2008, 12:45a-01:10a



In a sense, this meal was a continuation of the FoodDigger old red wine and sushi dinner at Shibucho. As I was driving home, trying to get on the 101, I received a call from Ryan of Tangmeister. He was in his car a ways in front of me, and excitedly told me that he just passed the original Original Tommy's. Known for its chili-cheeseburgers, Tommy's is one of those legendary LA eateries, and neither of us had been, so we decided to stop by for a midnight "snack."


A bit of a history lesson is appropriate. This location was opened on May 15, 1946 by Tom Koulax, son of Greek immigrants. Tommy's began selling hamburgers and hot dogs topped with chili, and though business was slow initially, things started to pick up in the 1960's. The original shack is pictured above, but eventually Koulax bought out the entire surrounding lot. Starting in the 1970's, Tommy's began expanding throughout Southern California, and now has 30 locations in the region (and also one in Henderson, Nevada). Interestingly, none of the restaurants are franchised; all are company-owned (much like In-n-Out). I imagine this is to keep tighter control of the food and overall Tommy's experience.


Eventually, a second service counter on the eastern side of the lot was set up to accommodate more customers. The food is largely the same, but the original shack tends to have longer lines, for purely nostalgic reasons I'm sure. The counter was closed on our visit, probably because it was late.


Here we see the menu board; I was actually reprimanded by a security guard for photographing it! Click for a larger version. Ryan decided to challenge me with the so-called Mega Combo [$9.00], which consists of a Triple Cheeseburger, Chili Cheese Fries, and a 20oz drink. If I finished it, he'd pay for the meal. Not one to back down from these sorts of things, I heartily accepted his dare. What surprised us was the sheer speed of the operation--I swear the food was ready before Ryan even got to put the change back in his wallet!



Not surprisingly, the food didn't come out looking quite as appetizing as pictured in the advertisement, smothered somewhat haphazardly in chili. About that signature chili, it comes with just about everything on the menu, even the breakfast Sausage & Egg Sandwich. According to the Tommy's web site, it's composed of an amalgam of an all beef chili con carne base, water, flour, and a special "secret" blend of spices. The result is a somewhat lean, watery, mild concoction that tends to congeal rather quickly.

The burger was a pretty standard one, consisting of three 100% beef patties and two slices of American cheese, topped with chili (of course), mustard, hand-sliced beef steak tomato, pickles, and chopped onions. It wasn't exactly a life-changing burger, but it was tasty. The chili actually took a back seat to the beef/cheese combination, which was by far the dominant taste component here. The pickles and mustard provided some tartness to liven things up, while the tomatoes added a refreshing textural contrast. Some of that old Bordeaux we had at Shibucho probably wouldn't have been bad here (in any case, certainly more interesting than my Diet Pepsi)!

The Chili Cheese Fries, meanwhile, comprised of an order of fries topped with a slice of cheese and plenty of that signature chili. It was about what you'd expect, though one problem I found was that the cheese didn't quite melt. That was my only real complaint, though I really think some onions would make this even better. Good, but I still do prefer the version at my old high school haunt, Volcano Burger.

In the end, I was able to rise to the occasion and finish the Mega Combo, which I must say was pretty impressive, given that I had a 17-course dinner earlier that night. Nevertheless, my gluttony wasn't really the point here; the point was to experience a giant of the LA restaurant scene. The food is tasty, but thoroughly uncomplicated. Certainly, most any competent chef could come close to duplicating the cuisine at Tommy's. But with a place like this, the experience really rises above just the food. The reason that Tommy's has been able to survive this long isn't merely the chili, it's the history, the custom, the folklore, it's how the restaurant has become part of LA's culinary landscape, a place for all Angelinos. Tommy's has been able to transcend the boundaries of old vs. young, rich vs. poor, foodie vs. casual eater. We saw teenagers there; we saw quinquagenarians. We saw people dressed as they could be migrant workers, and people dressed as captains of industry. And then you have us--two budding food bloggers with perhaps slightly inflated senses of self-importance. Truly then, this is a special place, one positively deserving of the moniker iconic.

Shibucho (Los Angeles, CA)

Shibucho
3114 Beverly Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90057
213.387.8498
www.shibucho-la.com
Wed 12/10/2008, 07:20p-12:00a



When I heard the name "Shibucho," the first thing I thought of was the somewhat popular and quite well-regarded sushi restaurant in Costa Mesa. Well, after doing a bit of digging, it turns out that that Shibucho and this Shibucho share more than just a name. Shibutani-san, the owner of the current Costa Mesa restaurant, originally opened Shibucho on Beverly in 1976 (one of the few sushi joints open at the time I must imagine). He proceeded to open another location at Yaohan (now Mitsuwa) Plaza in Little Tokyo, and due to the stresses of running two restaurants, sold the original Shibucho to employee Shige Kudo, the current owner and chef of the Beverly restaurant. Shibutani-san then proceeded to sell the Little Tokyo location, and moved back to Japan to train his son, Naga. After a while, the duo came back to the States, opening the current Shibucho in Costa Mesa. So that's what happened; now you know.

This was a FoodDigger-sponsored event, and representing that night were the Trois Mousquetaires of FD: Brian, Marshal, and Will (Brian's wife Jan was also present). Bloggers included Fiona of Gourmet Pigs, Ila of I Nom Things, Josh of Food GPS, Ryan of Tangmeister, and Tony of SinoSoul. The event was billed as an intimate "old red wine & sushi" dinner, which really piqued my interest. In fact, Shige-san is quite famous for his red wine pairings. Red wine and sushi? Ok, maybe a Pinot would work; but no, the point was to pair Bordeaux with sushi. Heresy I thought; these guys must be crazy! Or are they? My gut reaction was that the sheer power of the wine would overpower the delicate subtleties of the fish, or, if not that, that the wine would draw out the fishiness and metallic flavors of the sushi and clash violently with the harshness of wasabi. I honestly didn't know what to expect, but braced myself for the worst...


The unassuming entrance actually reminded me of many restaurants in Japan, with modest exteriors that belie the caliber of food within. Shibucho is located along a rather desolate stretch of Beverly, next to a 7-Eleven (convenient if you suddenly feel the urge to indulge in a Slurpee). Street parking should be free and abundant.


The decor is fairly typical for a sushi restaurant, with lots of light wood, and plenty of lighting. Most of the admittedly small space is taken up by the 10-seater sushi bar, manned solely by Shige-san. Note the shelf full of good luck cat figurines ("they don't work!"), given to Shige-san from customers. On this particular night, we pretty much took over the entire restaurant--the way I like it (though one other lone patron did wander in half way through our meal).


There are also a few tables, which were left unoccupied save for the lone customer mentioned above. Note that the floors are stone, which is fairly unique.


Here's a quick rundown of the wines we opened that night, with details following in the main body of the review. All wines were provided complements of FoodDigger's troika of resident wineaux, save for the Dom Pérignon, which Ryan and I brought:

• 1978 Moët & Chandon Brut Champagne Cuvée Dom Pérignon
• 1982 Château Pavie-Decesse, St.-Emilion
• 1978 Château Ducru-Beaucaillou, St.-Julien
• 1976 R. López de Heredia Viña Tondonia Rioja Viña Tondonia Gran Reserva
• 1976 R. López de Heredia Viña Tondonia Rioja Viña Bosconia Gran Reserva
• 1975 Château Léoville Barton, St.-Julien
• 1975 Château Montrose, St.-Estèphe
• 1989 Château Beychevelle, St.-Julien

In the second photo, we see the order of the wines after we let Shige-san arrange them to best complement the food. Naturally, we started with the Champagne (which I'm inclined to start just about any meal with). Note how he put the Beychevelle (the youngest wine, the only one younger than me) last, as it needed some time to breathe; but come to think of it, I think we pretty much decanted every wine. We also had some Asahi beer to start, but I didn't partake much, since I was saving myself for the good stuff!


A glass of bubbly is a classy and delicious way to kick off most any dinner, and this was no exception. Now I usually like to go with a younger, lighter Champagne with sushi (see the Cristal and Dom on my last visit to Urasawa, the time before, and time before that), but since tonight's theme was old wine, I decided to go with the 1978 Dom Pérignon. Prior to this, the oldest Champagne I've had was a 1990 Krug, which, coincidentally, was also drunk at a sushi restaurant: Sushi Sasabune. My prior experience with old sparklers told me to expect something heavier, toasty, and yeasty, something slightly akin to an old Bourgogne Blanc. But what I got was something with a sweet, caramel nose not unlike a Sauternes, followed by a light, dry, surprisingly effervescent, minerally attack, leading to a delicately sweet finish. I was actually very pleasantly surprised, and I think the wine went over quite well with everyone else too. Interestingly, as he was pouring, Shige-san mentioned that he thought that now was the perfect time to drink this particular Champagne, so I guess I timed it right!


1: Ankimo
What was really interesting about the ankimo was the color variation. I'm used to the monkfish liver being beige-pink, but what we had here had parts that were markedly orange in hue. We were told by Shige-san jokingly that this was a natural coloration, brought on by "liver cancer." In any case, the redder parts of the ankimo were actually much milder (with the lighter parts brinier), and went better with the Champagne. I quite liked the ankimo on its own, but appreciated the complexities added by accoutrements of momiji oroshi (chili-infused grated daikon), scallion, and ponzu. One of the better preparations of ankimo I've had.


Pavie-Decesse is one of the three "Pavies," with the other two being straight Pavie and Pavie-Macquin (which is controlled separately). It is "only" a Grand cru classé wine, versus the other two, which are Premiers grands crus classés B. Initially, I found the '82 intensely smoky, with a thick, meaty nose that was difficult to cut through. Fortunately, it got better and better the more I drank, eventually showing a softer, more fruit-forward side.


2: Mirugai, Aoyagi, Hotate, and Wakame Sunomono
I believe the proper name for this "salad" of geoduck, clam, scallop, and seaweed is sunomono. The shellfish themselves were rather mild, taking on the piquant characteristics of the seaweed and scallion, all over a sweet base of what I believe was miso or vinegar. The Pavie-Decesse actually worked pretty well here, as the subtle sweetness of the dish tempered the fiery nature of the wine.


3: Shiro Maguro Salad
Plenty of ponzu was used here, enough so that the salad really could've stood on its own without the albacore. Not that I didn't appreciate the fish, I rather liked the textural contrast and light fishiness it added to the dish. I find that albacore, when served in a sashimi preparation such as this, tends to get drowned out by the accompanying sauces (some have accused Sasabune of this, though I didn't have a problem). Fortunately, that wasn't the case here, as the tang of ponzu successfully drew out the natural flavor of the fish.


Time for the 1978 Ducru-Beaucaillou. I got a lot of leather on the nose, with very little fruit. On the palate, not much changed, and I noted surprisingly tight tannins along with some bit of spice. It was too lean for me, and I thought it really accentuated the fishiness of the albacore, which was a bit off putting. Will, however, liked the effect.


There were two Riojas on tap tonight, both 1976, and both from producer R. López de Heredia Viña Tondonia. The first was the Bosconia, from the winery's second vineyard, El Bosque. Brian compared it to an old Burgundy, and gave us some left over pieces of ankimo to try with it; I must say that the wine did really bring out the flavor of the liver. By itself, the wine was smoky and spicy on the nose, and vegetal on the palate, with just a hint of dark fruit.


4: Toro Sashimi
If I'm not mistaken, I believe we were told by Shige-san that the toro was from Italy; I think this is the first time I've heard of sushi fish coming from there. No matter, the toro was milder and leaner than I would've preferred, definitely more along the lines of a chutoro than otoro. It lacked the unctuousness and overt fattiness that a really great toro possesses, and seemed rather austere. I guess I've been spoiled by the toro I've had at places such as Kyubey, Urasawa, and even Go's Mart; such "regular" toro doesn't cut it anymore. The wine actually went pretty well here, which may be attributable to the gently rich flavor of the fish.


5: Maguro Sashimi
According to Will, the tuna here was actually cut from the belly loin of the fish. Indeed, it did seem a slight bit creamier and fattier than usual. However, as I've touched upon before, mere tuna seems a bit boring now, compared to the other types of ingredients out there. There was nothing wrong with the tuna here; it's a gripe I have with pretty much all maguro. Again, as with the toro, the wine did allow the fish to shine. Perhaps tuna just works with wine?


6: Buri Sashimi
Here we see Shige-san working his knife skills on a filet of buri (and about his knives, I think I've read somewhere that some of them cost near $10k!). Compared to your typical hamachi, buri is adult yellowtail, and is often wild instead of farmed. The result is a more complex, more mature flavor compared to hamachi; it's also generally less fatty. Unlike with the tuna, I much preferred the buri sans vin.


The second Rioja came from Viña Tondonia's flagship Tondonia vineyard. Compared to the first, it was much richer and meatier in aroma, and even had hints of Port. The taste was considerably fuller, with much more fruit, wood, as well as minerals. It was also much lighter in color, and body. I definitely preferred it on its own, but when eaten with the sashimi, the wine tended to really draw out the fish's metallic nature.


7: Hirame Sashimi
We were instructed by Shige-san to eat the halibut without soy, though I did sneak a bit of it on my last piece (he was right, it wasn't necessary). The fish was served here with yuzu, and I really appreciated how the refreshing tartness of the citrus accentuated the subtle flavor of the fish. Again, the nature of the hirame made it a fish best served senza vino, as the Léoville I had with it tended to draw out the halibut's fishiness.


8: Melanzane alla Parmigiana
Shige-san is somewhat well-known for serving patrons French and Italian dishes in addition to sushi and sashimi, to go along with red wine. Eggplant parmesan is a common Italian dish that originated in Sicily, though interestingly, it traditionally is made with mozzarella cheese, not Parmigiano-Reggiano. Not surprisingly, this was the first time I've had anything like this at a Japanese restaurant; I'm told that Japanese eggplant was used. The flavors of the cheese were clearly dominant here, and the whole effect was not unlike eating a pizza! Naturally, red wine was a natural pairing here.


The 1975 Léoville Barton demonstrated very faint notes of dried fruit in an very meaty nose, weak tannins on the palate, and a touch of smoke and cedar. It went superbly with the eggplant dish, which tempered it a bit--but with the halibut...not so much.


Unlike most of the wines here, the '75 Montrose tasted rather young, belying its considerable age. It was rather tight initially, but did open up later, showing bright notes of red fruit and cassis, with firm tannins. It was one of the standout wines for me (along with the Tondonia and Dom), and wasn't bad with the hamachi belly either.


9: Sake and Ikura Salad
"Parent and child" in one dish is how Ryan described this salad of salmon and its roe. I liked the bitterness imparted by the arugula and onions, and how that played with the olive oil and balsamic. Again, as with the albacore salad, the fish, and even the briny roe, was almost like a supporting player in this production. A refined bitterness was the main thrust of this dish, which formed a welcomed foil to the Bordeaux.


10: Toro
Compared to the sashimi preparation, the toro worked much much better in sushi form. I think the rice adds balance and a nice textural counterpoint, and the addition of wasabi really draws out the flavor of the fish. One thing I noted with Shige-san's nigiri was the use of warm rice, reminding me of Echigo and Sasabune.


11: Hamachi
Will told me that this was hamachi belly, though I'd have a tough time distinguishing it from standard yellowtail. In any case, the fish had a crisp creaminess that was nicely balanced compared to other versions of hamachi I've had that were too heavy. It wasn't bad with the Beychevelle and Montrose, though the pairing wasn't as seamless as it was with the tuna.


The last wine of the night was also the youngest: the 1989 Château Beychevelle. The wine's age was apparent upon tasting, where I noted much heavier notes of dark fruit and chocolate. In addition, the wine was chewier, more viscous, with stronger tannins to boot. I liked it, though a decade more in the bottle probably wouldn't do it harm, especially if paired with sushi.


12: Tai
Here we see Shige-san cutting up pieces of red sea bream, my favorite sushi of the meal. The tai snapper came from Japan, and was served with yuzu and salt. The contrasting sour and salty flavors formed the perfect counterpart to the fish. I think this would've gone great with the Champagne, but it was long gone by this point!


13: Kinmedai
Kinmedai is also known as golden eye snapper, a fish that I'd only had once before, at Sushi Sasabune. It was similar to the tai, but the texture was creamy more than crisp, and it came without the tai's accoutrements. Quite nice.


14: Buri Daikon
This was braised buri collar with daikon root. A more home-style dish, the main taste component here was ginger, and the fish really soaked up the flavor of the sweet, yet savory broth; and in fact, the daikon, which is typically very mild, was completely permeated as well. It was actually reminiscent of some Chinese-style stews I've had. The strong, rich flavor of the dish made it a prime candidate for red a wine pairing.


15: Anago
This was anago, or sea eel, served with eel sauce as well as sansho (or Sichuan) pepper; despite the name, sansho's actually not a pepper at all, but a fruit. Its tartness added another layer of complexity to the sweetness of the sweet soy-based sauce and made this one of the best versions of anago I've had.


16: Uni Hand Roll
Simple but effective: uni and rice, wrapped in nori. The mild sweetness of the sea urchin was complemented perfectly by the rice, and the end result was marvelous, one of the highlights of the meal. Think of it like Sasabune's signature blue crab hand roll, with uni instead.



17: Apple Tart / Chocolate Tart / Tiramisu
To cap off the meal, we were all given different desserts. Rather than your typical Japanese desserts, Shige-san serves Western-style creations, including cheese cake and flan. I was given a slice of an apple tart, which had just a lovely crust. I also got to sample Ryan's tiramisu and Will's chocolate tart. Along with dessert, we actually had some sake as well. Interestingly, Shige-san revealed that he's not a fan of the drink, complaining of the additives present in much of the sake available in the US. I guess that's why he sticks to wine!


The reason FoodDigger chose to hold this event at Shibucho was that Shige-san is a serious connoisseur of wine fine, especially French varieties. To see this, just ask to see Shige-san's worn, yellowed notebook of wine labels from his favorite bottles. DRC, Petrus, all the first growths--there were some mighty impressive labels in there! In fact, he even took the labels off the wine we drank tonight and gave them to us to take home. Shibucho has a pretty impressive wine list for a Japanese restaurant, and many of the selections are from Shige-san's personal collection. I understand that he's willing to let go of wines not on the list as well, for a price of course (I believe I heard a 1966 DRC Romanée-Conti for $15k!). Shige-san buys many of his wines at auction, and he told us of a story once where he was able to purchase a case of 1969 Lafite at auction for a ridiculously low price, and subsequently used the Lafite as cooking wine for some filet mignon!


A photo with Shige Kudo (right).

So...red wine and sushi? It was an interesting experiment to say the least. But I'm glad to report that yes, it can work, though definitely not all the time. I don't know if there was a consistent theme that emerged, but in general, I'd say that the more delicate fishes (e.g. whitefish) didn't take as well to red wine. I'd also try to avoid the fruit bombs, as they'd just wipe out any semblance of flavor from the sushi, as well as anything too tannic. I was kicking myself for not bringing a Pinot, like the Kistler we had at Totoraku, for comparison. Oh well, there's always next time.

Some have complained that Shige-san has a bit of "sushi nazi" persona, though I found that to be completely not the case. Throughout the night, he was extremely amicable, friendly, and even funny at times. I think part of the issue is that he doesn't like to do omakase for just anybody, but only for regular customers with whom he has a trusted relationship. But what struck me even more about Shibucho was how long the place has been around. No other sushi place I've been to has that kind of history attached to it. I mean, the place was launched in the dark ages of the 1970's, a time when most Americans were probably unaware of sushi. I wonder what it was like back then. Was Shibucho traditional like it is now, or did they have to cater to an inexperienced American palate? The infamous California Roll had been invented by then, so was it ever a fixture at the restuarant? It would be fascinating to discuss such things with Shige-san, someone who's been at the forefront through it all, from an era when sushi was a novelty, to now, when it seems likes there's a sushi bar on every street corner. But alas, that is a conversation best saved for another meal.

The Bazaar (Los Angeles, CA) [2]

The Bazaar
465 S La Cienega Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90048
310.246.5555
www.thebazaar.com
Tue 12/02/2008, 08:30p-12:10a



In my post on The Bazaar's opening night (which you may want to read for context), I gave the place a somewhat mixed review, pointing out the good, and the bad. Now, not unexpectedly, everyone focused in on the negative aspects of the review (human nature I suppose), and I received quite a bit of flak for it. In fact, the posting made its way to none other than Chef José Andrés himself. So imagine my surprise when I get an email a week later from Andrés stating that he wanted to meet for a "conversation ... about creativity and cooking."

I was surprised (and flattered) that a chef of his caliber would actually take the time to read my blog. Andrés later went on to say that although I could've been easily ignored, I may represent the thoughts of hundreds of other dinners who feel the same way, but who would never write or otherwise express their opinions in a public forum.

I eagerly set a meeting date for the following Tuesday, and asked to bring along a few other people, including some who were with me on opening night: Ryan from Tangmeister, Brian and Will from FoodDigger, and Brian's wife Jan. Throughout much of the night, Andrés expounded heavily about his views on gastronomy, but first, we'll get started with a review of the food and drinks, which were all taken care of by the restaurant.

Andrés didn't want pictures taken, not for "copyright" issues, but because he thought they'd draw attention away from the conversation. Unfortunately, I was unable to get a clarification on the controversial photo policy, though it appeared that the rules are becoming less stringent thankfully.

We began the night at Bar Centro, so I'll start with a recounting of the cocktails we had, which were superb overall.

• Given my penchant for mojitos, I started with the Magic Mojito, which I had actually intended to order on my first visit. The drink is fairly similar to a classic mojito, except that it's poured from a shaker into a martini glass covered with cotton candy; the candy then dissolves as it contacts the liquid. The drink had a bit of heat initially, followed by the sweetness imparted by the cotton candy. Quite good, though I still preferred The Bazaar's rendition of the classic mojito, which I was able to sample again this particular night.
• Next, we had a Nitro Caipirinha, which uses liquid nitrogen to reduce a standard caipirinha (Cachaça, sugar, lime) into a slush-like state. This had a great sweet/sour interplay, a bracing coldness, and an amazing texture; we were all expecting something akin to granité, but instead, what we got was something with a surprisingly smooth, creamy texture, more like sorbet. Andrés later explained that the method used to create the cocktail was the only way to freeze alcohol (pure alcohol has a freezing point of -173°F versus -321°F for liquid nitrogen). Excellent.
• I then sampled the Americano, a cocktail created in the 1860s consisting of Campari, sweet vermouth, and soda. The Bazaar version stays true to the original for the most part, but floats a layer of orange foam on top of the drink. The foam added sweetness to the sour/bitter taste of the rest of the cocktail, and I also loved the contrast between the frothiness of the foam and the bottom layer of liquid. I think I'm going to have to order Americanos more often now!
• I believe Andrés ordered the Ultimate Gin & Tonic for himself, which unfortunately, I didn't get to try. It did look tasty though.

While at Bar Centro, we also had a bit to eat. Unfortunately, I didn't take home menus, so I may not have the "official" names of some of the dishes. Note that all the dishes were ordered by Andrés himself. Items that I hadn't tried before are marked with asterisks.

• * Potato chip "patatas bravas" with salsa brava (spicy tomato sauce) and alioli (garlic and olive oil). These were pretty much potato chips served in a patatas bravas style, similar to a recipe from Andrés' mother. A bit simplistic for me, but good for snacking with drink in hand.
• Jamón Ibérico. We started with this on our first visit, and once again, it did not disappoint. Very tender, very rich, very good. Interestingly, Andrés mentioned that the top jamón slicer in the world was in the restaurant, instructing the staff.
• 'Pa amb' tomaquet / toasted sliced rustic bread brushed with fresh tomatoes. This was meant as an accoutrement to the jamón, with the flavors of tomato and olive oil coming to the fore. Straightforward, but effective.
• Croquetas de pollo / chicken and béchamel fritters. This was one of my favorite items efore, and they were just as good this time, with their warm, oozing, creamy centers of chicken. In regard to this dish, Andrés mentioned that Californians seem to like fried items, and that they tend to be the top sellers on the menu. I can't say that I'm too surprised.
• * Steamed brioche buns with trout roe and crème fraîche. I loved the interplay between the soft, mild bun (which were not unlike Chinese bao), the salty tang of the caviar, and the subtle sourness of the crème. Very good.

After a while, we transferred to a table at Rojo y Blanca, in fact, the very same table we sat at last time. How appropriate.

We also moved on to wine from cocktails, and started with a bottle of Txakoli from Getaria (didn't get the specifics unfortunately), a region in Basque Country. I've never had Txakoli before, but really enjoyed its subtle sparkling nature, light weight, and high acidity. I'm going to have to look for this more often from now on.

Next, we opened up a bottle of the Bodegas Vega-Sicilia Ribera del Duero Único that Brian was kind enough to bring. Compared to the 1996 we had at Totoraku, it was tighter, showing a more floral and less fruit-driven nose, higher acidity on the palate, more smoke and spice, and a longer, more lingering finish.

Getting back to the food now, we sampled many of the same dishes as on our first visit, as well as a few new ones thrown in for good measure.

• Aceitunas con anchoas y piquillos / world's best stuffed green olives with piquillo and anchovies. Andrés mentioned that this was his favorite item on the menu, and went into great detail in how they're the "best" in the world, describing how each is hand-made with only top-quality anchovies. I don't doubt the care and skill that went into them, but I still wasn't a huge fan. The anchovy was a lot more apparent this time around though.
• Sea urchin / with pipirrana and Andalusian vegetables. This was one of my favorites before, and remained so. An excellent specimen of uni, heightened by the use of pipirrana (a fine mixture of onion, tomato, and cucumber), which added a refreshing tang and awesome crunch to the dish.
• Watermelon tomato skewers / with Pedro Ximénez reduction and sexy tomato seeds. One of the stars last time, and still sweet, succulent, and yes, sexy.
• Tortilla de patatas 'al momento' / classic potato omelet prepared at the moment. Again, I like the flavor profile here, but would prefer it if the potatoes were a bit firmer and more apparent. I'm a big fan of potatoes in general, so I think this dish does have a lot of potential. I wish I could've tried the "new style" preparation for comparison.
• Papas Islas Canarias / salty wrinkled potatoes with "mojo verde." A different type of potato was used this time: smaller, sweeter, softer, and purple. I'd say that they didn't stand on their own as well, but integrated better with the tangy mojo sauce. Quite nice.
• * Tempura avocado / with airy mayonnaise. I rather liked this. I was expecting something firm, as with most tempuras. Instead, the hard exterior shell gave way to a creamy, soft interior, almost as if the avocado wasn't cooked at all. Good on its own, but even better with the sauce. As an aside, Andrés talked about how tempura is actually not a Japanese creation, but was introduced to the country in the mid-sixteenth century by Spanish missionaries. Even the word comes from the Spanish "tempora," referring to Lent, when eating meat was verboten.
• Buñuelos de bacalao / codfish fritters with honey aioli. I complained about the fishiness and mushiness of this dish previously. Fortunately, the taste this time was much milder, but I'm still not a fan of the fritters' texture. Andrés did explain that the softness is part of the traditional preparation, preferred by most Spaniards.
• Alitas de pollo / boneless chicken wings with green olive purée. I liked the chicken on its own, but the addition of the heady olive purée and minty greens took the dish to another level. Very nice.
• Olives Ferran Adrià / liquid 'olives.' These were exactly the same as last time. I give credit to Adrià for inventing the spherification process, but I feel that more needs to be done with the "olives" here. The novelty has sort of worn off, and many chefs are using the technique today, which is actually a relatively simple reaction between sodium alginate and calcium chloride.
• Japanese eggplant / with soy sauce-miso glaze and yogurt. This was one of my most disliked dishes last time, and although I still don't love it, I'm glad to report that it's been markedly improved. The amount of glaze has been lessened significantly, and the yogurt allowed to come more to the fore. Andrés stated that the dish's flavor "density" had been reduced as to not be so overwhelming, using a colorful analogy of sticking your hand in a 500-degree oven versus a 500-degree deep-fryer (the "density," not the temperature, is what burns you). Texture-wise, the eggplant was much softer and easier to eat. Andrés explained that it takes a long time to get this type of consistency from eggplant.
• * Unknown eggplant dish. Unfortunately I don't know the name of the dish, consisting of extremely soft, tender, thin strips of eggplant, imbued with an interesting, smoky, vegetal flavor.
• Stewed baby carrots / with coconut sorbet and ginger: This was one dish that didn't change much from last time. I still thought that the amalgam of carrot, ginger, and coconut clashed too strongly for my tastes. I think a base other than carrots would be appropriate here.
• * Dashi 'linguini' / with tomato, lemon and caviar. A very interesting dish. The noodles themselves had a very Japanese-like essence, which was then combined with the brininess of caviar, and the sourness of lemon. This was a favorite dish of Andrés, and he claimed he could eat a whole plate of it, as with a normal pasta. Brian disagreed.
• Pisto Manchego con flor de calabaza / sautéed peppers, zucchini, onions, eggplant and tomatoes with squash blossoms and egg. Andrés proceeded to mix up everything in the dish to a roughly homogeneous consistency, something we didn't do last time. A pleasant dish, much the same as before.
• Carrilleras de ternera con naranja / braised veal cheeks with California oranges. Last time, we had the same dish, but with pork instead of veal. I found the veal more tender and milder in flavor, so the offsetting balance provided by the oranges was not quite as crucial here. I preferred it to the pork, though Ryan thought the opposite.
• Avocado wrapped tuna. Tuna and avocado is a popular pairing and faired pretty well here. The mild flavor and creaminess of the two ingredients complemented each other, and the combination was set off by the use of a salt topping.
• Japanese baby peaches / with persimmon, yogurt and olive oil. This was similar to what we had before, but the addition of persimmon added more sweetness to the dish, and also a tougher, chewier texture to contrast the softness of the peaches.

Now it was time for dessert, which unfortunately we didn't have room for last time. I was really looking forward to these.

• * Flan with berries and cream. This was a just about perfect preparation of flan, made even better by the addition of rich cream and tart berries. Traditional, but that's all that's needed here.
• * Berry soup with goat cheese sorbet. The sorbet added a pleasing temperature contrast to the dessert, and also provided a foil to the marked sweetness and sourness of the raspberries and blackberries. Very refreshing.
• * Chocolate cake with gold foil. The cake had a fascinating flavor, not too sweet, but almost salty with some vegetal notes. It also came topped with the biggest piece of gold foil I'd ever encountered!
• * Nitro "meringue". I don't recall exactly what this was, but I liked it. Its appearance was not unlike a block of ice, which we subsequently broke apart. When eaten, it had an initial hardness that quickly dissolved in the mouth. The overall effect reminded me of a meringue. Very cool. Andrés didn't seem pleased with the texture though, saying that it was overcooked by "five seconds."

Now, the night was as much about eating as it was about Andrés' philosophy on food and cooking. His main point was how perspective and background influence the dining experience. Andrés described different lenses through which to examine a particular dish: the chef's intent, tradition, technique, and the diner's personal view. He likened this to the four sides of a square. How did my experiences growing up, eating meals from my Chinese mother and grandmother's kitchens, influence my perceptions today? As an "experienced" eater, how are my notions different than those of the casual diner? The main raison d'être for this meeting, thus, was an attempt to bridge the gap, the disconnect between a diner such as myself, and the creator--the chef.

In this vein, he lamented on how technology, the Internet, can connect people, but can also drive the wedge even deeper. Andrés started on the 'Net in 1995 (I got on a year later), with the screen name "apicius," after Marcus Gavius Apicius, an ancient gourmet from Roman times. Despite this, he's still not quite sure how to handle bloggers such as myself. Andrés went on a brief tangent here, talking about his "best friend" (he has a lot of them) Vint Cerf, one of the "founding fathers of the Internet," and how Cerf is now working, along with NASA's JPL, on the Interplanetary Internet, a new standard for interplanetary communication using radio and lasers.

In the end though, Andrés does concede that, despite everything else, a diner either likes a dish or not. Context is important, but the end result is much simpler than that. By garnering a better understanding of the food at hand, one may be able to derive more pleasure from it, or one may not. But certainly, we can't expect a diner to posses a knowledgebase comparable to the chef; accessibility still must come into play. On the other hand, as a blogger, am I to be held to a higher standard than the common patron? Andrés believes so. How do I improve this understanding? By eating, by cooking, by reading--Andrés suggested that I read Brillat-Savarin's (the epicure, not the eponymous cheese) La Physiologie du Goût and Escoffier's Le Guide Culinaire.

One point Andrés stressed was that he cooks dishes that he himself likes. He is well-known for his innovative nitros, airs, and spherifications, but Andrés also believes in traveling the world, gathering the best traditional recipes, unchanged, and combining them with top-notch ingredients and technique, in order to create the "best" versions of a tortilla, a stuffed olive, or anything for that matter. Half of the items at The Bazaar have a story, a history behind them. For example, the "croquetas de pollo" were a staple of Andrés' childhood, and are now a staple for Andrés' three children (who have become budding gourmets themselves).

Andrés abhors being labeled a flag bearer of so-called "molecular gastronomy," as does his old mentor Ferran Adrià, who prefers the term "deconstructivist." People think a foam is so amazing, when in reality it's quite simple (a gelled liquid extruded through a gas canister). What Andrés considers a wonder is the common microwave oven, which has been around for decades, but which no one really knows how to make good food with. Apparently, he's working on a microwave cake at the Patisserie that is supposed to be phenomenal.

Another interesting point Andrés brought up concerned the use of seasonal and local ingredients, which is all the rage these days. The issue came up when we were discussing the "watermelon tomato skewers." We all professed our admiration for the dish, prompting Andrés to proclaim that the watermelons used were neither seasonal (watermelon's a summer fruit here) nor local (they were from Mexico). He believes that local/seasonal is definitely a step in the right direction, but that such a philosophy shouldn't limit a chef. Andrés went on to describe restaurants that stuck too rigidly to the mantra, at the expense of the end result: the dishes. Sure, use local/seasonal ingredients if you can, but more importantly, use the best ingredients you can. Don't sacrifice quality just to claim adherence to a particularly point of view. I could tell that Andrés is a stickler on quality (especially in how he was espousing his "best" olives), and really emphasizes the use of top ingredients paired with unflinching technique. Even if a dish isn't particularly popular among diners, it can be considered a success if there were no compromises in its construction: he knows he did it right, despite naysayers.

Andrés also told us of a humorous anecdote from his younger years, where he and his friends would drive from Spain to France, in order to dine at some of the finest restaurants there. Money was an issue, so he would make a reservation for four, despite having a party of six. They would rotate seats, but would invariably get caught. Andrés doesn't want The Bazaar to be a place where people are required to spend triple-digit sums for food. Instead, Andrés wants someone to be able to spend $30 on a meal as easily as the diner could spend $150 (and that $30 meal would rival anyone else's).

But the value proposition is not really my concern. What I'm concerned with is the food, and I'm happy to report that it was indeed better. Restaurants are dynamic entities, constantly changing and evolving in response to customer behavior. What I've seen is that Andrés and company have demonstrated a commitment to improvement. I wish I would've taken a copy of the menu, to really show the changes that have taken place in a relatively short span of time. Dishes have been added; dishes have been removed; dishes have been revamped--the Taylor Bay scallops with beet nitro we scoffed at previously has been replaced with a version using peach and ginger. Such responsiveness is refreshing, and encouraging. If such a trajectory continues, taking the long-term view, I think The Bazaar will do just fine.