ParkAve (Stanton, CA)

ParkAve
11200 Beach Blvd, Stanton, CA 90680
714.901.4400
www.parkavedining.com
Sat 06/27/2009, 07:35p-10:00p



In terms of gastronomy, Stanton, CA is somewhat of a culinary wasteland, home to notable Thai eatery Thai Nakorn, but not much else. According to Yelp, the City's best restaurant is Yuki Sushi, one of those notorious Korean-owned sushi joints that serves up treats such as the "Spicy Lover's Roll," "Hot Night Roll," and the creatively-named "Stanton Roll." Yeah.

As such, you can imagine my surprise when I heard people raving about ParkAve, a relatively new eatery that claims to serve up first-rate New American fare. ParkAve's chef/owner is St. Louis native David Slay, a veteran restaurateur who toque'd with Gerard Vié at the Michelin two-star Les Trois Marches in Versailles and Marc Angel at A. Beauvilliers in Paris, afterwards opening up the lauded La Veranda in Beverly Hills. Thus, I was curious to give ParkAve a try. Is it actually a top-notch restaurant, or have Stantonians (Stantonites? Stantonese?) had their palates dulled to the point that they simply don't know any better?


The exterior screams mid-century modern, with a twist of Googie thrown in for good measure. Parking in the attached lot is free and plentiful (ah, the beauty of OC).


The inside is a bit more staid, and I could've mistaken the dining room for that of a Coco's.


The menu is a straightforward spread of apps, soups, salads, and mains, mostly consisting of creative interpretations of traditional American fare. Click for larger versions.


Two types of bread were offered: a soft walnut bread, and a crunchy sesame bread. Pesto butter was addicting.


I hadn't had a mojito in a while, so I went with ParkAve's Tommy Bahama Mojito [$8], a decent, but blunt rendition. My dining companion had a Ginger Grant [$9], made with Gin, Fresh Ginger Syrup, Lime and Dash of Bitters; this was a stiff one, and the ginger could've been more apparent.


Lobster Mac N Cheese with a Spicy Cheese Sauce [$12.00]
We started with this, a combination of two of my favorite foodstuffs--there was almost no way that this could turn out bad. And it didn't. Initially, all I got was a spicy cheesiness, but the natural sweetness of lobster came in through the finish, while the greens provided a subtle vegetal tang to balance things out. Meanwhile, the breadcrumb topping gave the dish a pleasing crunch that set off the creamy texture of the rest of the course. The best item of the night, one I could eat all day, and an excellent start to the meal.


Lobster and Roasted Corn Fritters, Red Pepper Mayonnaise [$8.00]
Next was another lobster course. Here, the sweetness of the corn actually went well with the crustacean's natural sapor, and the Sriracha added a nice spiciness that lightened the dish. Tasty, but the fritters were a bit stingy on the lobster!


With our cocktails downed, it was time for a sparkler. We ended up with a half-bottle of the Heidsieck Monopole Blue Top Brut [$27], which turned out better than I expected, showing typical Champagne notes, but in a soft, round body with fun bubbles.


Marinated Tenderloin Bites with Soy, Lime and Garlic [$7.00]
When these arrived on the table, both my dining companion and I thought that they'd be tough, chewy morsels. We were pleasantly surprised, thus, when the beef turned out to be rather tender. Flavor-wise, they were reminiscent of the Korean grilled meat galbi, rich with a bit of sweetness countered by the tangy, crisp slaw. Quite nice.


Seafood Risotto, Peas, Pesto [$20.00]
If risotto's on offer, then I pretty much have to order it, hence this course, a special of the night. I'm uncertain as to what type of fish was used here, but I can say that it was quite heavy, oily, and strong-tasting. The use of peas was much appreciated, and along with the pesto, it did do an admirable job in mitigating the gravitas of the fish. Perhaps some citrus or mushroom would've help in balancing things out? All in all, a tasty dish, but one lacking in finesse.


For the meat entrées, a strong red wine was in order. Perusing the wine list, the 2006 Bibich Riserva, Skradin [$40] stood out to me--it was a Croatian wine, and I'd never had Croatian wine before, thus I had to have it. Initially, it was almost Pinot Noir-esque, with a lightness, softness, and peppery attack reminiscent of the varietal. However, as time passed, the wine turned into a more Cabernet-type animal, with strong meaty and smoky flavors coming to the fore. Not bad.


Grilled Skirt Steak, Molasses, Soy and Ginger Marinade, Cauliflower and Pesto Risotto [$18.00]
Unfortunately, the best part of this course was the risotto, which was imbued with a hearty meatiness, and which, according to my dining companion, was almost stew-like. The steak itself was unimpressive, with an almost fishy taste to it that was rather disconcerting. The mushrooms, with their earthiness, were instrumental in balancing things out, but couldn't prevent the beef from tasting a bit institutional.


Texas Antelope Medallions, Pear Risotto, Red Wine Demi [$22.00]
The antelope was better thankfully. I believe this was my first time having it, and though the flesh was a bit chewy, it did have a pleasing sweetness on the attack, leading to a slight gamy, smoky flavor.


Desserts, made on premise, are an uncomplicated affair. Click for larger versions.


Strawberry and Blueberry Sponge Cake with Whipped Cream [$7.00]
The cake was light and airy as expected, with a delicate sweetness nicely countered by the tanginess of its berry filling.


Cream Cheese Ice Cream & Sage Ranch Honey Ice Cream [$6.00]
For what I believe was the first time ever, I actually ordered ice cream for dessert, mostly because the other desserts didn't looking particularly interesting. It turned out to be a great decision. I first sampled the cream cheese ice cream, which I liken to a hybrid between cheesecake and a Danish butter cookie--very good. The honey ice cream was even better; it had a very conventional, almost vanilla taste at first, but the finish was pure, decadent honey. Take a pint to go.

My experience here left me a bit puzzled as to what I'd just gone through. The service at ParkAve left me wanting: plates were taken away before our mains, courses were served unannounced, and the screaming kids were far worse than anything I'd encountered previously (even at Napa Rose). It was like eating at Marie Callender's, but with the kitchen actually giving a damn. As for the food, it's mostly competent, with some of it actually quite tasty. But this begs the question: if ParkAve were located on Melrose Ave, would anyone care?

LudoBites at Breadbar (Los Angeles, CA)

LudoBites at Breadbar
8718 W 3rd St, Los Angeles, CA 90048
310.205.0124
www.ludolefebvre.com/ludo-bites/
Wed 06/24/2009, 07:10p-12:20a



Described by chef/creator Ludovic Lefebvre as a "guerilla style pop-up restaurant," LudoBites is a restaurant-within-a-restaurant concept that pairs Ludo and his team with establishments that offer only breakfast and lunch service (in this case, Breadbar), creating a dinnertime event that drives brand awareness for both parties. The end goal of this marriage is to serve haute cuisine at affordable prices by keeping overhead to a minimum, to create a "bistronomy" of sorts that offers Michelin-level food at Claim Jumper costs. LudoBites is designed to move every few months, not unlike an artist's exhibition, and this current engagement, which started on May 19, is slated to end on August 22. Go Tuesdays through Saturdays, and make sure to BYOB.

Certainly then, LudoBites is an intriguing idea if nothing else. Naturally, it thus caught the attention of the staff over at up-and-coming restaurant review site FoodDigger. A while back, FoodDigger had hosted a hugely successful event at Church & State. The chef at C&S, of course, is none other than Walter Manzke, who previously helmed the kitchen at Bastide. Prior to Manzke's tenure, however, it was Ludo who was the top toque there. Thus with that, the idea of sponsoring a LudoBites event came into fruition. Will, head of FoodDigger Business Development, got into contact with Ludo's wife, noted attorney, cervical cancer survivor, Apprentice contestant, and yes, even Playboy playmate (Google Images, my friend) Kristine Lefebvre, and this event was born (despite Ludo's initial hesitance).

Given the infamy of LudoBites, I knew that this dinner would be a hot ticket, and was pleasantly surprised when I was given the go-ahead to attend. Joining me were Alli of Alli411, Cathy of Gastronomy Blog, Danny of Kung Food Panda, Diana of Diana Takes a Bite, Fiona of Gourmet Pigs, Javier of Teenage Glutster, Pam of Rants and Craves, Sook of Yutjangsah, Victor (sans Jenny) of Grubtrotters, and Wesley (sans Evelina) of Two Hungry Pandas. Representing FoodDigger were Brian, Marshal, and Will.

A bit of Ludo history: Born in 1971 in Auxerre, Bourgogne, France, Ludo's first inklings of cookery developed with his grandmother in the kitchen, and by age 10, he knew that he wanted to become a chef. Despite being somewhat of a troublemaker (or perhaps, because of it), at age 13, Ludo was sent to work at Maxime, a local restaurant, where, starting at the very bottom washing dishes, he trained arduously in order to get accepted into France's culinary apprenticeship system. A year passed, and Ludo became an apprentice under chef Marc Meneau at L’Espérance in Vezelay, Bourgogne. Later, he worked under French gastronomic legend Pierre Gagnaire, who encouraged him to experiment with unusual flavor combinations, a facet that proved crucial as Ludo continued to develop his own style. After completing his military duty, Ludo spent the next four years cooking with his most influential mentor, culinary giant Alain Passard at the Michelin three-starred L'Arpège in Paris. Ludo then moved to former three-star (it was demoted in 2008) institution Le Grand Véfour, working alongside Guy Martin.

At this point, Ludo wanted to come to the US, which he viewed as a place where he could combine his classical French training with new and exciting techniques and ingredients. Thus, in 1996, at the recommendation of chef Meneau, Ludo moved to Los Angeles, where he was hired as Chef de Partie at the now-shuttered L’Orangerie; promotion to Executive Chef came just five months later, despite Ludo's still-developing English skills. Ludo achieved considerable success at L'Orangerie, winning a Mobil Guide five-star award, but left the restaurant in 2002. After plans to open "Ludo" at the W Hotel Westwood fell through, he would reappear in a big way in 2004, heading up the kitchen at Bastide. Despite garnering another Mobil Guide five-star rating, Ludo parted ways with Bastide's notoriously mercurial owner Joe Pytka in 2006 after a series of frustrating delays in the restaurant's redesign. In the fall of 2007, Ludo rolled out LudoBites, a four-month special event that was met with much fanfare and critical applause. Prior the most recent incarnation of LudoBites, Ludo was most recently at Lavo, a restaurant and nightclub concept at The Palazzo in Las Vegas.


Upon arriving, I was greeted with an apéritif, a glass of the 2007 Bodegas Naia (Viña Sila) Rueda, an easy-drinking, refreshing, effervescent Verdejo that was just what I needed at the moment. I then proceeded to mill around, conversing with the FoodDigger staff and meeting the other bloggers in attendance.


One of FoodDigger's draws is its experimental Flavor Match algorithm, which attempts to match the food preference profiles of the site's users, in order to create more meaningful restaurant review results. The cross-matched results between all the bloggers in attendance, the FoodDigger staff, and even Ludo and Krissy are shown above; click for a larger version. It's fascinating to see who matches/clashes with whom, and my results are shown below (on a 100-point scale):

Fiona	Danny	Ludo	Wesley	Will	Kristine	Alli	Brian	Diana	Marshal	Cathy	Pam	Javier
99	97	79	79	79	76	75	73	65	61	57	49	29

Thus, it appears that I'm pretty much in lockstep with Fiona and Danny, while having pretty strong match with most everyone else, except for Javier. Brian was curious as to whether or not Javier and I were really all that different (I suspect not). My question is: does Flavor Match measure what we normally eat, or what we'd like to eat if we had no constraints (time, financial, geographic, or otherwise).


Though LudoBites is normally done à la carte, Ludo and his team agreed to create a one-off tasting menu for FoodDigger, shown above; click for a larger version. Since Breadbar doesn't sell booze, wine pairings were expertly provided by the FoodDigger staff.


Prior to the start of the meal, Ludo came out and talked briefly about his dynamic, gung-ho culinary philosophy.


Given that this is Breadbar after all, I expected some damn good bread, and this sourdough wheat bread did not disappoint, with its lovely, crusty exterior, creamy interior, rustic flavor, and signature sourdough tang. The butter was a perfect pair, made by Ludo himself and tarted up with honey and lavender; its sweetness was a fitting foil to the sourdough.


1: Deconstruction of Bloody Mary
2008 Domaine la Rocalière Tavel Rosé
This first course was more of an amuse bouche, one seemingly taken from the pages of the Moto playbook. An unabashedly deconstructivist dish, it consisted of spicy tomato sorbet, vodka gelée, and celery mousse. Taken in concert, the three elements effectively mimicked the classic Bloody Mary, with the sorbet taking center stage at first, before handing things over to the gelée, for a lingering alcoholic finish. The gelée, meanwhile, also added some nice textural variation with its Jello-like consistency.


2: Tuna Sashimi, Sushi Rice Ice Cream, Shishimi Togarashi
2007 Dr. Beckermann Piesporter Michelsberg Riesling
My next plate held two slices of tuna sashimi, topped with sushi rice ice cream, sesame oil, sesame, ginger, crispy onion, and soy sauce. I first tried the maguro alone; it was clean, mild, yielding--a good start. I then took everything together, and noted how the various accoutrements, the onion with its crunchy consistency especially, heightened the tuna, while the ice cream took on the role of shari in nigirizushi, effectively balancing and moderating the other ingredients. An interesting study in disparate tastes, textures, and temperatures: sushi, deconstructed.


3: Shrimps, Sweet and Sour, Rosemary
2007 Dr. Beckermann Piesporter Michelsberg Riesling
The next course, a one-biter, consisted of a solitary shrimp, covered in a gelatinous sweet & sour blanket, sprinkled with rosemary and lemon zest. The crustacean itself was firm, meaty, snappy--no complaints there. I was afraid that the whole amalgam would turn out a bit blunt, but in fact, the shrimp's natural sweetness was very nicely complemented by its accompaniments. The sugariness of the course linked up nicely with the paired wine, a sweet, simple, easy-drinking Riesling from Mosel-Saar-Ruwer that Marshal picked out.


4: King Red Salmon, Smoked Vinegar, Watermelon, Mint
2007 Dr. Beckermann Piesporter Michelsberg Riesling
Here we have a cube of salmon, topped with ikura, and a cube of compressed watermelon, laced with mint and sesame. We were instructed to fare the fish first, followed fastidiously by the melon. The salmon was actually quite mild, but its brininess was elevated considerably by the roe. The watermelon, sweet as expected, was also quite minty, and the whole sweet-salty-minty complex that followed was rather unsettling. Indeed, the melon's sweetness did offset the richness of the salmon, which is what I think Ludo was going for here, but also introduced its own set of problems.


5: Chorizo, Onions, Cornichon
2007 Domaine les Grands Bois Côtes du Rhône Villages Cairanne Cuvée Maximilien
The next course was my favorite of the entire meal: a chilled Spanish chorizo soup with an island of cornichon and onion granité. Tasting the viscous soup was almost disconcerting--it was just so completely saturated with the quintessence of chorizo, its smokiness, savoriness, meatiness, its spicy lingering finish, along with a marked cheesiness that my dining companions likened to Doritos. It was delicious on its own, and I would've been happy drinking the "gazpacho" by itself. However, we mustn't forget about the "sorbet," a tangy amalgamation with a positively bracing flavor that balanced the overt saltiness of the sausage. According to Brian, this dish was "pure Ludo." Brian also picked the wine to pair here, a CdR that was a marvelous pairing, with the wine matching the spiciness of the dish blow for blow.


6: Foie Gras Tart, Lemon Paste, Mushrooms, Four Spices
2003 Reignac
Besides the chorizo, the most talked-about dish of the evening was this maple-crusted foie gras tart. There was quite a bit going on here; the first thing I noted was an attack imbued with truffle oil, giving way to the essence of liver, which strengthened as time went by on the finish. The lemon paste did its job in tempering the dish, but the key here for me were the mushrooms. Served uncooked, they had a wondrous raw earthiness to them and were a deft/daft foil to the decadence of foie, in addition to providing a great textural crunch. As for the wine, foie is usually paired with a sweeter wine, but Brian went against convention and instead chose the 2003 Reignac, a Bordeaux. It turned out to be a great pair, with the foie and wine balancing each other out perfectly.


At one point during the meal, Pam, who totally wants to jump Ludo's bones, asked him to pose and show off his numerous tattoos.


7: Diver Scallop, Port, Crème Fraiche
N.V. Montsarra Cava Brut
Here was a lone scallop, in a sea of crème fraiche-port emulsion, joined by bacon and onion, and just a speckle of orange zest. The sweetness of the mollusk was enhanced by the use of port, while its savory components were brought out by the bacon. The course garnered mixed reviews from my compatriots, as these two countervailing forces either worked for you, or they didn't. Fortunately for me, they did. Brian decided to pair a Cava with the scallop, and although Cava and scallop seems like a safe combination, the result here was actually a bit jarring (not necessarily a bad thing, mind you).


8: Halibut, Spiced Butter, Fresh Porcini, Tonnato Style, Lettuce
2001 Domaine Vincent et Francois Jouard Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées Clos de la Truffière
After a series of rather striking dishes, this halibut seemed so...conventional. Conventional doesn't equal bad though, and the fish turned out to be one of my favorites in fact. The "tonnato" here refers to the sauce, a commixture of tuna and egg. It proved a fitting complement to the halibut, and I absolutely loved the use of lettuce, which gave the dish a vegetal aftertaste and a crisp, light texture contrast. The porcinis, meanwhile, contributed an earthy gravitas to the course. The wine here was notable for its fascinating truffle finish, which was subsequently tempered by the food.


After the halibut, Umami Burger owner (and BottleRock and Vinoteque founder) Adam Fleischman decided to turn up; he's seen here chatting up Alli. Other notables present included Sam Kim from LAist and Joe from Silver Lake Wine (whom I met before after a meal at Canelé).


9: Duck, Almonds, Crispy Skin Puree, Tapenade, Turnips
2006 Bodegas Naia (Viña Sila) Rueda Naiades
This duck was the bane of me. I thought that it was absolutely too sweet, on account of the almond, which overpowered the duck's natural flavor. Brian actually compared the dish's taste to that of mole (while Sook thought of Honey Smacks)! In any case, in an effort to neutralize said sweetness, I made a go at the tapenade, which, with its intensely olive-y flavor, sort of swung the pendulum to the other extreme. The best part of the dish was the stout cylinder of turnip, which at least provided some moderation. I did eventually try the duck by itself, and enjoyed it much, much more.


Here, we see Ludo serving up some fromage. After he set the board down, we immediately swooped in to take our photos of the poor cheese, and I think the second photo sort of highlights the apparent "absurdity" of it all, something we food bloggers take a lot of flak for.


10: Cheese
2007 Maison Leroy Bourgogne
With the savories dispensed with, it was time for a quintet of cheese, sourced, I'm told, from The Cheese Store of Beverly Hills:

• Brin d'Amour / Toasted Hazelnut with Licorice - From Corsica, France comes this cheese, made from the milk of rosemary-grazing sheep. The result is a creamy, herbaceous cheese that I found quite delicious.
• Époisses de Bourgogne / Apricot Paste with Rosemary - This was a cheese that I first tasted at Mélisse. Époisses is a soft, unpasteurized cow's milk cheese made in the Côte-d'Or. Deemed the "king of all cheeses" by Brillat-Savarin (whose eponymous cheese is one of my favorites), Époisses possesses a funky odor that belies its creamy, tangy, decadent flavor. Superb with the herbal apricot paste.
• Fromager d'Affinois / Honeycomb - Affinois is a double-cream soft cheese made from cow's milk. It's quite Brie-like, with a great nuttiness complementing its butteriness. Very, very nice.
• Etorki / Date Purée - A Basque cheese made in the French Pyrenees, Etorki is created with pasteurized sheep milk. It had a mild, subtly sweet flavor with a slightly acidic tang that was great with the sugary date purée.
• Valdeón / Pink Grapefruit Gelée - We finished with the Valdeón, a goat's and cow's milk blue cheese from León, Spain. Coming wrapped in sycamore maple leaves, it was a milder blue, especially compared to the related Cabrales, and had a pleasing saltiness to it behind its signature bleu tang.

11: Panna Cotta, Caviar, Caramel
We ended the meal with a dish developed by Ludo during his tenure at Bastide: a vanilla panna cotta, with caramel sauce, topped with a generous quenelle of caviar. I was a bit concerned about the roe at first, but fortunately things turned out alright. The admixture of caramel and caviar worked surprisingly well, inciting a sensation like that of salted caramel. The panna cotta, thus, took more of a back seat here, and clearly the action was focused on those two contrasting sweet-salty elements. Krissy even likened the dessert to "Milk Duds with popcorn," and this seemingly experimental juxtaposition of completely disparate elements was a fitting end to our LudoBites experience.


Cheers to another successful event! After dinner, we also tucked into the two remaining bottles of wine: a 2007 Domaine Paul Autard Côtes du Rhône, and the 2007 Domaine Daniel Dampt et Fils Chablis 1er Cru Côte de Léchet.


Then, we were treated to a special viewing of Ludo's recent appearance on Top Chef Masters, where he was pitted against Cindy Pawlcyn, Rick Bayless, and Wilo Benet. We were also treated to Ludo's live insightful color commentary, digs at chef Bayless, and rather humorous response to his being constantly subtitled (he's working on the accent).


Look who else showed up! Folie à Mattatouille (it's a portmanteau, get it?).


The whole room sat mesmerized by Ludo's pig ear quesadilla.


Yes, even former Top Chef contestant Marcel Vigneron graced us with his presence. Vigneron, of course, is currently a sous chef at José Andrés' The Bazaar, where I met him after an exceptional meal at Saam.


Matthew, erect-cum-baguette.

Ludo wanted to come to the United States in order to expand his traditionally French repertoire, and to that, he has achieved considerable success. At L'Orangerie and later at Bastide, Ludo cemented his place in the City's culinary landscape, combining his Old World foundation with exotic new flavors, techniques, and ingredients, even venturing into molecular gastronomy, breaking new ground in the process. He is thus constantly evolving his cuisine, always seeking out what's new and interesting (being particularly fascinated about novel ways to use spices--vadouvan being a favorite), taking risks, learning, respecting the past, all the while living in the present. Though clearly not everything I ate on this night worked (even Ludo admits that he has his share of failures), I appreciated the spark, the international flair, the whimsy and the panache in his cooking that I bore witness to, and will be thoroughly interested as to where Ludo goes from here. Thanks again to FoodDigger for putting this wonderful event together.

Wurstküche (Los Angeles, CA)

Wurstküche
800 E 3rd St, Los Angeles, CA 90013
213.687.4444
www.wurstkucherestaurant.com
Tue 06/23/2009, 08:20p-10:40p



Wurstküche means "sausage kitchen" in German, and I think that descriptor sums up the place nicely. Opened in November 2008, the restaurant is the brainchild of two young (first) cousins: Joseph Pitruzzelli and USC alumnus Tyler Wilson, aged 27 and 23, respectively. I'd been curious about the place ever since it debuted, and finally made it out after being invited by Selina, a reader of this blog. Joing us were her brother Peter and a bevy of her girlfriends.


The restaurant, situated in a former print shop, is located in Los Angeles' historic Arts District, an area along the eastern side of Downtown, bordered by the Los Angeles River (which places it a stone's throw away from R23, and right down the street from Crazy Gideon's). Not surprisingly, given that it was formerly known as the Warehouse District, the Arts District is filled with older industrial and warehouse buildings, many of which have been transformed into trendy lofts, shops, and eateries over the course of the area's gentrification.


It's pretty hard to miss Wurstküche, given its unique sliding red and yellow doors, not to mention the huge mural (dogs attacking birds?) painted next door. You'll also notice a few people milling around outside, inevitably waiting for their friends to show up (and yes, I was one of those people).


The line to order should be just about out the door, so this gives you plenty of time to peruse the menu shown above (click for larger versions). Wurstküche's web site describes it as a "purveyor of exotic grilled sausages," and with roughly two dozen cased meats on offer at any given moment, that's certainly a true statement. However, I'd wager that the beer, 24 on tap and even more in bottles, is almost as big of a draw (note the presence of Pabst Blue Ribbon--one of my dining companions stated that the PBR was for the hipsters, because it's "ironic").



Once inside, you'll find yourself in a small front room, the centerpiece of which is the refrigerated sausage case. Disappointingly, none of the sausages are made at the restaurant; the rattlesnake one comes from Utah I've heard. While waiting in line (and you will wait, thanks to the single queue), you can watch the lone grill master cook said sausages, and pick out a beer (or soda, if you swing that way). And about that beer, I find it rather strange that you're served your first glass here (as in the last photo), but subsequent servings must be handled elsewhere--weird. This peculiar setup may be due to the fact that the cousins originally envisioned this front room solely for eating, and the voluminous back room solely for drinking.


Just make your way down this rather long hallway...


...To find this, a dining-cum-beer hall. Note the exposed brickwork, high ceilings, bare wooden beams, concrete flooring, and long communal benches--très chic?


One side of the room is dominated by a lengthy blonde wood bar, offering 24 kinds of beer on draught.


Food is brought to your table from the antechamber documented above, Carl's Jr. style. We had a group of about ten people, so a problem with this setup is that food can be brought at vastly different times; by the time I got my sausages, several of my dining companions had already finished their meal!


Now, for the beer. I started with a Houblan Chouffe [$8], a Belgian Indian pale ale from one of my favorite producers, Brasserie d'Achouffe. I'm not usually huge on IPAs, but this was good I'll admit, with far more floral, wheat, and herbal notes than I'd expected; it was like a IPA-Tripel hybrid in a sense. Though the bartender would disagree with me on this point, I still prefer the brewery's La Chouffe bottling. For round two, I went with the Spaten Optimator [$6], a Doppelbock from Spaten-Franziskaner-Bräu of München. It was a hearty beer, but not too heavy, with lovely chocolate and dark fruit notes. In addition to these two beers, I also sampled some of my dining companions' selections, including the Franziskaner Hefeweizen [$5.50] and Unibroue's La Fin Du Monde [$7.25], a Belgian-style Tripel that one member in my party likened to "soup."


Feeling ambitious, I went for three dogs. In hindsight, I could've easily done one, probably two more.


Bratwurst [$6.00] | fine cuts of pork, coriander & nutmeg (with sauerkraut)
I started with the classic: a pork bratwurst, with coriander and nutmeg, topped with kraut. I first noted the sausage's casing, which had an absolutely fantastic snap and crunch to it. The meat itself was very fine, very flavorful--savory, yet perfectly complemented by the tangy sauerkraut. Of this troika, the brat was the most traditional, but also the best.


Austin Blues [$6.75] | hot and spicy, tri-pepper & hardwood smoked pork (with spicy peppers)
Figuring that this was going to be a piquant sausage anyway, I decided to top Austin Blues with spicy peppers. That was a mistake. The peppers turned out far too vegetal for the dog, distracting me from the pleasant spicy-smokiness of the sausage. Texture-wise, the sausage didn't have quite as much bite as the Brat, and had a chunkier consistency as well. My least favorite of the trio.


Buffalo, Beef & Pork with Chipotle Peppers [$7.75] | smoky chipotle flavor (with caramelized onions)
The meat, an amalgam of buffalo, beef, and pork, was difficult to describe; it had a slight tang to it, and a pleasant smokiness from the chipotle. In terms of body, it was very chunky indeed, almost breaking apart instantly upon mastication; the casing was nothing spectacular. The star of the show here were the caramelized onions, which were simply superb, adding a much needed bracing pungency to the sausage.

Though I don't have a photo, I did get to try Wurstküche's vaunted Belgian Fries, and they were wondrous indeed, with a medium thickness, just the right amount of crunch, and the perfect amount of saltiness. I also had them with two of the housemade dips, Curry Ketchup and Pesto Mayo, but the fries easily stood on their own. And if you're wondering about the name: "French" fries were actually a Belgian creation, mistakenly attributed to the Gallic people.

So, in the end, I had one exemplary sausage in the Bratwurst, and two other competent ones, along with some terrific beer. I can definitely see the appeal of this place, though the long waits and odd setup are going to keep me away somewhat. That's not stopping others though. Business is booming, and the restaurant is reportedly grossing $50,000 per week. Those are some pretty serious numbers for a "hot dog" joint, and I wonder how long they can keep it up. Wurstküche: a fad, or here to stay?

Thang Long Restaurant (Westminster, CA)

Thang Long Restaurant
9550 Bolsa Ave, Westminster, CA 92683
714.531.9400
www.yelp.com/biz/thang-long-restaurant-westminster (Yelp, restaurant has no web site)
Sun 06/21/2009, 01:40a-02:10a



Saturday, June 20 was the date of my 10-year high school reunion. I wasn't too keen on going at first, but goaded on by some of my classmates, I caved and shelled out $108 at the door to attend. The event itself was held at Don The Beachcomber in Huntington Beach (one of those kitschy tiki restaurants), and given the sorry excuse for food that we had there, I was left wondering what all the money had gone toward.

Nevertheless, it was fun to see everyone again, to see who went on to becoming smashing successes after high school, and to see who floundered out the gate, who got drafted in the NFL, who got fat, who came out of the closet, who married rich. But perhaps--and I hate to be clichéd here--the more things change, the more they stay the same. Talking to people, it seemed like the bulk of them were just like they were in high school, plus 10 years of age, a few extra pounds, and perhaps a child or two--the popular kids are still popular, the prettiest girl in our class still is, and E.T. is still, far and away, the life of the party. All this had gotten me into a rather introspective mood, as in what have I accomplished over this past decade?

In any case, after the party ended, a few dozen of us made our way to O'Malley's on Main in Seal Beach, an Irish pub. I'd just finished a pint of Guinness before I had to leave. It turns out that one of my colleagues had gotten into a scuffle with the bouncer there, and it was on me to simmer down the situation. We successfully avoided a more serious altercation, but my buddy was pretty wasted, so we needed to get him sobered up before he could drive home...

...Enter Thang Long. Somewhere along the line, it was decided that a piping hot bowl of pho would be perfect for such a task; the problem was that we needed a place that'd be open at 1:00AM. Ryan of Only Eat What Feeds Your Soul (yes, we actually went to the same high school) suggested Thang Long, specifically for their filet mignon pho. Off we went.


Interestingly, there are actually two restaurants named Thang Long in the same strip mall. The first it Pho Thang Long (which was once housed at 15579 Brookhurst), and the second is Thang Long Restaurant. The former, I gather, is supposed to specialize in pho, while the latter apparently has a larger selection of dishes (though still has a large pho selection). But from what I hear, the consensus is that the Restaurant actually has better pho, so go figure.


Pho Thang Long is famous (or infamous, rather) for its contemporary decor, replete with 20-ft ceilings, orange walls, and a waterfall. Well, Thang Long Restaurant doesn't fall far from the tree, with the same high ceilings, green walls, and a fountain. A stark contrast to the "ghettoness" of your typical pho joint no?


Ca Phe Sua Da [$2.00] | Iced Filtered Coffee with Milk
Ca phe sua da literally translates to "iced coffee with milk," and is basically a concoction of coffee mixed in with condensed milk, poured over ice. It was a great combination of sweet and bitter, and rather strong to boot.


Com Tam Bi Cha, Heo Nuong [$6.95] | Rice with Shredded Pork, Steam Egg & Charbroiled Pork
Before the pho, we shared a plate of broken rice, served with heo nuong (grilled pork), bi (shredded pork), and trung hap (steamed egg), accompanied by pickled vegetables and nuoc cham dipping sauce. The pork itself was competent enough, though perhaps a bit dry, while I preferred the rice drenched in nuoc cham. My favorite bit was actually the steamed egg "omelet."



Pho Tai Filet Mignon, Large [$6.95] | Rare Filet Mignon Steak
Now this is what we came for. We were first presented with a plate of the requisite pho accoutrements: bean sprouts, chili peppers, lime, Thai basil, and ngo gai (sawtooth herb). Next was a plate of thinly-sliced filet mignon, in a lovely shade of crimson. Finally came the large bowl of noodles and broth, intermixed with diced cilantro and onion; we eagerly tossed in the garnishes, threw in a few slices of beef, and tucked into the pho. I gotta say that the filet was one of the best cuts of meat that I've had with pho--extremely tender, it slid down my throat and kept me wanting more. The rest of the dish was quite tasty, though not heads-and-shoulders above other versions I've had. As usual, the various veggies, the sprouts and basil especially, provided a tangy, vegetal counterpoint to the richness of the soup, making for an enjoyable experience.

The pho here, at least the filet mignon pho, was pretty solid--I hand it to Ryan for finding this place. Though at the same time, I wonder if it'd still hold up in a non-late night, non-buzzed situation. Whatever the case, by the end of the meal, my buddy was just about sober, and was able to drive home just fine. I guess that makes Thang Long a winner in my book.

Hachi (Los Angeles, CA)

Hachi
12009 Wilshire Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90025
310.473.9603
www.hachi.us
Fri 06/19/2009, 07:05p-10:00p



A relative newcomer to the Japanese cuisine scene in LA, Hachi is a sushi bar-cum-robata that opened in November 2008. The restaurant is actually part of Takee International's restaurant group, which also operates the Manpuku series of yakiniku joints (in Los Angeles, Costa Mesa, and even Tokyo). Having heard pretty good things about Manpuku, I felt that I'd be in good hands here, though the fact that Hachi serves items like the Philadelphia Roll did put me on guard somewhat. Indeed, there are some fanciful rolls here, with some fusion "Nobu-style" dishes thrown in for good measure as well. The focus, though, is on sushi and yakitori/kushiyaki, with the robata items grilled using Kishu bincho charcoal from Wakayama Prefecture (generally considered the highest quality).


Situated next to a Rubio's, Hachi is located in the Brentwood Place shopping center. Parking is located in the same structure, and, thankfully, is easy and free.


Inside, you'll find two bars, one for sushi (where we were seated), and one for the robata grill, while tables line the walls. The decor is pleasant, contemporary, comfortable, though not breathtaking.


As one of my dining companions had a prior relationship with the restaurant, we were seated directly in front of Executive Sushi Chef Masa Yamamoto, a 20-year veteran who began his career in the Ginza district of Tokyo, home to some of the City's finest sushi restaurants. After honing his skills in Japan, Yamamoto-san moved to the States, where he last worked at Gonpachi in Beverly Hills. Sushi Chef Nobu Shishido (formerly of Take Sushi in West Hollywood) was also present behind counter, but I believe everything we had (save for the grilled items) was from Yamamoto-san.


After arriving 30 minutes late (gotta love that LA traffic), I eagerly tucked into a mug of Kirin Draft [$4.50], which really hit the spot (Kirin on draught is somehow so much better than the bottled variety). We then proceeded to order a few glasses of sake to pair with the beginning of our omakase meal. The sake was the Suigei ("Drunken Whale") Tokubetsu Junmai [$12] from Kochi Prefecture's Suigei Shuzo brewery, made with akitsuho rice with a 55% seimaibuai. It was a rather "rustic" tasting sake, crisp with hints of caramel and spice, leading to a bit of heat on the finish--a good food sake.


Though an omakase option is not listed normally as part of the menu, it is a very viable option at Hachi, priced at a reasonable $90. We thus began with this sextet of sakizuke (think amuse bouches).


1a: Hokkaido Tako
First up was thinly sliced Hokkaido octopus sashimi, served with lime, sea salt, and yuzu kosho. The salty-spicy character of the yuzu kosho was a superb complement to the mild, slightly sweet octopus, and I enjoyed the tako's soft, creamy, lightly chewy consistency; it was a great change from the cooked octopus one normally gets at sushi places. Very nice.


1b: Rock Shrimp Tempura
The next few bites take a page from the Nobu Matsuhisa playbook. Peppery, crunchy, salty, the shrimp make for great snacking. Nothing particularly unique, but I could eat them all day--yum!


1c: Hirame Sashimi
Here we have hirame sashimi, over olive oil, topped with shredded daikon and scallion. I liked the crispness and the tanginess provided by the fish's accoutrements, but the olive oil was a bit strong for me, masking some of the hirame's natural sapor.


1d: Ankimo
Ah ankimo, otherwise known as monkfish liver--here it was served in a ponzu sauce and topped with momiji oroshi (grated daikon with chili pepper) and chives. It was everything I'd want from ankimo: creamy, soft, with a mild tinge of liver flavor--very good.


1e: Shima Aji Sashimi
Shima aji, or striped jack, done in a "zuke" (pickled) style, topped with wasabi stem, in a mixture of soy and dashi, over shredded daikon. I believe this was the first time I've had wasabi stem, which possesses the heat of wasabi, but in a slightly heavier, less biting form. I had to temper its application, as to not overpower the fish. In moderation, it was a fitting complement to the shima aji, as was the daikon, which countered some of the wasabi's heat.


1f: Steamed Awabi
We concluded with steamed abalone. It was an immensely tender preparation, and quite savory as well. I would've liked the mollusk's natural sweet brininess to have been more apparent however.


2: Chicken Wing
The first item from the robata grill was tebasaki. The wings were a good combination of tender and gelatinous, imbued with tebasaki's signature smoky chicken flavor. A bit of lemon heightened the experience even more.


3: Asparagus with Pork Belly
The tebasaki was followed up by asuparabekon, or bacon-wrapped asparagus. As a fan of both bacon and asparagus, there was almost no way this could be bad. And indeed, the fatty, savory pork did a great job in adding saltiness and body to the vegetal, bitter asparagus. Very good.


4: Chacoal Grilled Oysters topped with Garlic Butter
This was a Pacific oyster from Seattle, grilled with a garlic-butter sauce. Now, this was a big oyster, but went down easy, as the mollusk's intrinsic briny intensity was balanced deftly by the rich, savory sauce. I quite enjoyed this--one of the better oysters I've had.


With the Suigei dispensed with, the next sake we had was a bottle of the Hiroki Tokubetsu Junmai [$72], a 55% seimaibuai, yamada nishiki sake from Fukushima Prefecture. Though similar in spec to the Suigei, it was a totally different beast--sweeter, more floral, more viscous. Yet, at the same time, it was still clean and refreshing, with a pleasing acidity--delicious.


5: Tai
With that, we were ready to move into the sushi portion of our meal. First up was snapper, topped with a dot of yuzu kosho, shiso, olive oil, and salt. The shiso and yuzu kosho formed a great contrast to the silky, creamy fish, adding layers of flavor to the tai. Excellent.


6: Shima Aji
A straightforward shima aji, or striped jack, from Japan. I found the fish meaty, yet tender, with the soy providing a wonderful flavor complement and the rice proving likewise in the texture department. Such a different preparation than the sashimi above.


7: Amaebi
This was local (Santa Barbara likely) sweet shrimp that wasn't so sweet. Amaebi is usually served completely raw, but here, the shrimp was seared on top. This gave it a great contrast between the creamy, sweet bottom and the smoky, seared top, tempering the brininess of the shrimp in the process. Superb.


8: Aji
Aji is fast becoming one of my favorite sushi fishes, and this reminded me as to why. This was simply Spanish mackerel from Japan, topped with a bit of ginger. It was this ginger that was the key, providing a biting, acerbic tang that balanced the oiliness and fishiness of the mackerel. A highlight of the meal.


9: Hon Maguro Akami
Akami refers to the red meat of tuna, basically what you normally get unless you're having some sort of toro. In any case, this was bluefin marinated in soy sauce. It was a bit more interesting that your typical tuna, with a soft, yielding consistency, salty flavor, and strong wasabi finish.


10: Shiro Mirugai
Interestingly, a distinction was made here between regular mirugai (giant or geoduck clam) and this shiro mirugai, which apparently is slightly different. The difference, I'm told, is that the shiro mirugai is larger than the mirugai typically found in Japan. In any case, it was served here simply with soy and wasabi. The clam had crunchy but yielding texture and a sweet, briny flavor finished with a wasabi kick. Nice.


11: Kohada
Making a relatively rare appearance here was kohada, or Japanese gizzard shad. Kohada is a quite distinctive fish, with a firm consistency and a strong, ocean-y flavor. I'm told that June is the best time of the year for baby kohada, or shinko.


12: Sake-No Harasu
This was salmon, but not normal salmon, rather salmon belly, marinated in sake (kasuzuke I believe). This treatment resulted in a smoky, savory flavor atypical of the fish, as well as a very tender, fatty consistency.


13: Saba
As with the aji, saba is also a type of mackerel, and here it was served with ginger like the aji, but also with scallion. Similarly, these two accoutrements cut the fishiness of the saba, which I found to be stronger tasting than the aji.


14: Uni
Sea urchin roe, in nigirizushi form, rather than the more common gunkanmaki shape. The uni's signature briny, sweet flavor was there, balanced by the use of wasabi, but it was served a bit too cool for me, resulting in a somewhat jarring sensation that blunted the course.


Our final sake selection was a 300mL bottle of the Dassai 50 Junmai Ginjo [$25], made by Asahi-Shuzo Sake Brewing in Yamaguchi Prefecture. "Dassai" means "otter festival," and refers to the presence of otters in the area's rivers in the past, and how said otters would scatter their fish catch on the shores, as if they were celebrating a festival of sorts. The name also references revolutionary haiku poet Masaoka Shiki, who called himself Dassai due to his proclivity to scatter reading material over the floor of his residence. In any case, the Dassai represents a sake that's smooth, sweet, subtle, yet complex--my favorite of the three.


15: Hon Maguro Chu-Toro
Chu-toro is a middle ground between akami (above) and the over-the-top unctuousness of o-toro. It is, of course, blue fin belly, and was notably creamy in consistency, not too oily, with a delicate flavor heightened by wasabi.


16: Tamago
The tamago marked the end of the string of sushi. The example here was quite cold, with a sweet flavor initially leading to a lingering eggy finish.


17: Tsukune
We decided that we needed one more yakitori item, and thus ordered up a round of tsukune, or chicken meatball. This was a very rich, very savory preparation, and though tasty, I would've liked more of the chicken's natural flavor to shine through.


18: Jaga Butter Shiokara
Now this was somewhat of a first for me. Ika no shiokara is fermented squid guts and legs, and, as you'd expect, it had a rather strong, pungent, salty, fishy smack to it. However, it wasn't offensive, and paired well with the relatively mild grilled potato, butter, and chives. The dish is designed to go well with sake, and Yamamoto-san was even kind enough to treat us to another bottle of the Dassai, on the house (we'd run out already by this point). I have had a similar dish, hotaruika no shiokara, made with whole firefly squid, at Urasawa before.


19: Pumpkin Zenzai
Finally, it was time for dessert, a pumpkin zenzai, basically a red bean and pumpkin (kabocha) soup, served with mochi balls, ice cream, and almonds. It was almost a chawanmushi-like experience, with the mochi providing a great chewy textural element, the almond adding a lingering nutty finish, and the ice cream balancing the richness of the dish, while also adding a cool temperature contrast. Dessert was served with agari, a green tea. The tea's bitterness was great in mitigating the sweetness of the course and cleansing the palate.

Hachi is a welcomed addition to the Westside sushi scene, and I savored my time here considerably. I was able to enjoy a fairly traditional omakase meal, but at the same time, it looked like plenty of tables were enjoying their Red Dragon rolls and other fusion-y dishes. Clearly, the chefs know what they're doing, satisfying a wide range of palates--my only concern is that Hachi may be trying to do too much at once.

Joël Robuchon (Las Vegas, NV) [2]

Joël Robuchon
3799 Las Vegas Blvd S, Las Vegas, NV 89109
702-891-7925
www.mgmgrand.com/restaurants/joel-robuchon-french-restaurant.aspx
Tue 06/16/2009, 05:30p-08:00p



The "Chef of the Century" might easily not have been. Joël Robuchon (born April 7, 1945 in Poitiers, France) was slated to become a priest, and spent the beginning of his teenage years training at a seminary. Fortuitously, familial financial woes necessitated that a young Robuchon go to work to support his parents, and at age 15, Robuchon began apprenticing at hotel-cum-restaurant Relais de Poitiers; he'd studied cooking at Mauléon-sur-Sèvre’s seminary, so the transition made sense. In 1966, Robuchon joined the Compagnon du Tour de France, a group of artisans who spent several years traveling around the country, honing their craft. This exposed him to the depth and breadth of French cooking, and gave him a library of techniques and ingredients to call upon throughout his career.

Robuchon thus hung his toque at various establishments throughout France, and in 1974, after completing his apprenticeship, was soon scouted as the Chef de Cuisine at Hôtel Concorde Lafayette in Paris; he was 29. It was during his time here that Robuchon was awarded the Meilleur Ouvrier de France, the most vaunted designation possible for chefs. It was also during this time that Robuchon was exposed to the culinary tradition of Japan, a factor that would play a larger and larger role as he continued to develop his own style. In 1978, Robuchon moved to head the kitchens at Les Célébrités, at the Hôtel Nikko in Paris.

At the end of 1981, Robuchon opened his very own restaurant: Jamin. Robuchon captured his first Michelin star three months after opening; the third came in 1984. At Jamin, Robuchon really came into his own, refining and cementing his gastronomic modus operandi. Robuchon closed Jamin in 1993, and in 1994 opened the more luxurious Joël Robuchon in a larger space, where he again garnered three stars. However, the restaurant would only last two years; Robuchon retired in 1996, at the height of his career--he wanted to go out on top.

But yet he could not stay away. Robuchon returned to the restaurant scene with his L'Atelier series of restaurants, meant to bring his cuisine into a more informal setting: gourmet counter dining. The concept proved to be a success, and in 2005, Robuchon was lured by MGM Grand head Gamal Aziz to open a restaurant in Las Vegas that would hark back to his glory days of 3-star gastronomy. Robuchon thus had carte blanche to create this new restaurant, and the chef subsequently began to assemble of team of experienced cooks and staff from all around the globe. Helming the kitchen was Jamin-alumnus Claude Le Tohic, who, like Robuchon, was a Meilleur Ouvrier de France winner (in 2004). Chef de Cuisine was Tomonori Danzaki, who worked with Robuchon in Tokyo and in Paris, and Executive Pastry Chef was Kamel Guechida, who worked under Fredy Girardet at Restaurant de Crissier in Switzerland. Amazingly, four years later, all three are still manning the kitchens.

My previous meal at Joël Robuchon was simply epic, one of my best ever, so it seemed fitting to cap off a Vegas food trip (which saw the likes of Guy Savoy, L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon, and Bar Charlie) with a return visit.


Last time, we were seated in the main dining room, styled by Pierre-Yves Rochon to evoke a posh upper-class 1930's Parisian salon. So this time, I requested a seat "outdoors," on what is referred to as the Terrace. A note to fellow food bloggers: don't do it! The lighting is conducive to a romantic rendezvous, but not to photo-taking. It's dim--we're talking 1/10s at f/2, running ISO 1600. As a result, the photos here didn't turn out as well as they could have "indoors."


As a result of the economy (and also in response to the summer season, according to Chef Le Tohic), Joël Robuchon now offers prix fix menus starting from a previously unheard of $89 per person, rising to $195. Of course, for hardcore gluttons such as myself, the $385, 16-course degustation is still available. Mine is shown above, printed on Robuchon's signature "sparkly" paper; click for a larger version. Anyone care to translate the Chef's message for me?

I decided to take it easy on the alcohol, and thus ordered only two glasses of wine to complement the meal. Since I'm a big fan of something bubbly to start, the first was the Philipponnat "Réserve Rosé" Mareuil-sur-Aÿ, NV [$39]. It was everything you'd expect and want from a rosé: plenty of strawberry, slightly toasty, crisp acidity, subtly sweet, with fine bubbles--a refreshing way to start off the evening. Since Riesling is my favorite white varietal, my next glass was filled with the Alsace, Riesling "Cuvée Frédéric Emile" Maison F.E. Trimbach, 2001 [$31]. Though I usually go with the fruitier, more floral Germans, I went for an Alsatian Riesling this time, as I was in the mood for something drier. The Trimbach fit the bill nicely--a mineral-dominated wine with hints of apple and lemon, with a great sharpness.


The bread cart was as impressive as ever. Since I'd been offered a bread pairing at Guy Savoy just three nights prior, I decided to ask for one here. Though the restaurant usually doesn't do such a thing, they were able to accommodate the request. Interestingly, the bread server was the exact same gentleman from my last visit, and he recognized me!


1: Le Caviar Osciètre | en fine gelée de corail anisée, servie en surprise
Milk bread
Ah Champagne and caviar...could there be a more fitting start to a meal at Robuchon? Presented with a tin filled level with the tiny black pearls, I first tried a few globules alone. Briny, crisp, a bit nutty--they tasted as they should. Breaking through the layer of roe revealed the "surprise:" dungeness crab in a gelée of lobster coral and fennel cream. Coral refers to the richly-flavored eggs of lobster, and here it imbued the dish with the essence of the crustacean, while the crab provided a great sweetness that balanced out the saltiness of the caviar. A great way to kick off the evening.


2: La Tomate | en salade, huile d’olive au basilic, tomate et mozzarella en gelée
Basil focaccia
Initially, I wasn't too excited about this course. Reading the description on the menu, I thought that the dish would be a pretty conventional insalata Caprese--I should've given the kitchen more credit! On the left was a thick slice of tomato, marinated in basil-infused olive oil and topped with basil, balsamic, and salt. Next to it was an intriguing-looking plate: a clear tomato gelée speckled with spots of mozzarella, with alternating points of basil and tomato purées; I can just imagine a young chef back in the kitchen charged solely with the onerous task of dotting the gelée! Though I was instructed to eat everything together, I first tried the tomato by itself, which was extraordinarily juicy, with a refreshing tomato flavor leading to hints of basil then olive oil. Now, with everything taken together in one bite, the effect was almost exactly like that of a Caprese, though a bit lighter. The "salad" thus didn't break any barriers with regard to taste, but rather was a reimagination of the classic using different textures, techniques, and presentation (arguably a deconstructivist approach).


3a: Les Asperges | un blanc-manger aux substances d’agrumes
Saffron focaccia
The "Les Asperges" course actually comprises three mini-courses. The first was asparagus over a blancmange and tomato coulis, with citrus oil. The relish of the asparagus was complemented, emboldened by the coulis, whilst the panna cotta added a heaviness to the dish that tempered the vegetable.


3b: Les Asperges | brouillarde crémeuse dans une voilette de pain doré
Saffron focaccia
Next was asparagus with scrambled eggs, in a golden French toast crust. Here, the bite of asparagus was apparent at first, but was balanced by the creaminess of the eggs. The crust, meanwhile, added a fantastic texture element.


3c: Les Asperges | royale tremblotante de morille au vin d’Arbois
Saffron focaccia
Clearly, they saved the best for last: asparagus and morel mushrooms royale with vin jaune (yellow wine) from Arbois. I knew this was going to be good just from the aroma, a heady bouquet permeated with the earthiness of morel and just a hint of asparagus tang. The wine-morel complex, with its nutty smokiness, was fantastic, and formed the perfect counterpoint to the asparagus, which took on a more supporting role here. Powerful, profound, a standout of the meal--I wanted a bigger bowl!


4: La Grenouille | la cuisse en fritot à la purée aillée et au coulis de persil
Brioche with rosemary and sea salt
This rather gnarly looking thing was a crispy frog leg fritter, accompanied by young garlic shoot purée and parsley coulis, along with tempura'd watercress and soy bean. This is one of Robuchon's signature dishes, and I can see why. The frog leg was simply one of the most flavorful bites I've had in recent memory, and its crispy fried shell provided an absolutely wondrous texture contrast, and also gave the dish a lingering bready finish. The sauces added some further interest, but were unnecessary--the frog was delicious on its own. Give me a whole bucket of these please!


5a: Les Crustacés | la langoustine truffée et cuite en ravioli a l’émincé de chou vert
Wheat pain epi
Another set of three mini-courses began with a plump raviolo stuffed with langoustine, in a foie gras and truffle sauce, paired with chopped Savoy cabbage in a beurre blanc. The use of truffle and foie gras provided a regal complement to the langoustine, but didn't allow enough of the langoustine's natural flavor to shine through. The cabbage, meanwhile, added a great, crisp textural contrast and lightened the rather rich dish. While tasty, it wasn't as strong as the version I had on my previous visit.


5b: Les Crustacés | le homard rôti au curry et fines graines de chou fleur
Wheat pain epi
Next was roasted lobster with green curry, over a lemongrass couscous with cauliflower. The use of lemon grass and cauliflower resulted in a pleasing contrast to the lobster, giving it a vegetal and slightly spicy tang. However, the crustacean was overdone for me, lacking in its signature crispness and snap.


5c: Les Crustacés | l’oursin a la purée de pomme de terre au café « Blue Mountain » torréfié
Wheat pain epi
Though I have uni often in Japanese cuisine, the uni here was done in a way that I would've never imagined. It was served on a bed of mashed potato with roasted Blue Mountain coffee beans (one of the priciest coffees in the world, from Jamaica). I was afraid that the coffee would simply dominate the sea urchin, but it was surprisingly mild. Rather, the potato was the key here. Its creamy consistency blended seamlessly with the uni, while tempering the urchin's sweet brininess.


6: Les Petits Pois | en fin velouté rafraîchi à la menthe poivrée sur un voile d’oignon doux
Here we have a light pea velouté with peppermint, over smoked ham and espelette, topped with a delicate onion foam. Upon tasting this soup, I first noted an intense nose of onion, followed by the clear essence of pea, finishing with a subtle yet lingering hint of mint. The ham, in the meantime, provided a strong savoriness that balanced the refreshing nature of the dish. What was most interesting here though was the interplay between pea and peppermint. Pea has an inherent tanginess to it, and that bracing sensation was handed over seamlessly to the mint; it was a fascinating sensation--simple, yet brilliant. This was easily one of my favorite courses, and the second outstanding pea dish of the trip, along with "Tout Petits Pois" at Guy Savoy.


7: L’Os à Moelle | garni d’un ragout de légumes aux éclats de maïs et gingembre
Bacon mustard epi
We now move to the more substantial courses, with the first being bone marrow and sweetbreads, with vegetable ragout, corn, creamed corn, popcorn, and ginger cream. Upon seeing this dish, I was afraid that it'd be too heavy, too unctuous (as marrow tends to be). As luck would have it, my fears were unfounded. In addition to marrow, the bone was also filled with creamed corn; now, creamed corn is typically a somewhat heavy item, but here, it effectively, and surprisingly, cut the gravitas of the marrow superbly, even adding a bit of sweetness in the process. However, the star of the show was the sweetbreads, which were immensely flavorful and done to a firm, yet not crispy, texture. The popcorn was a fun touch that provided some levity and whimsy, while adding a bit of crunch. Easily the best bone marrow dish I've had yet.


8: Le Bar | poêlé à la citronnelle avec une étuvée de jeunes poireaux
Olive baguette
The first and only fish dish of the night was this pan-fried sea bass from Brittany with lemon grass foam and stewed baby leeks, tomato, and asparagus. The flesh of the bass was tender, flaky, and mild, about everything I could ask for. The use of lemon grass resulted in a distinctly Thai-tinged flavor, while the veggies made for a light contrast and an overall zesty, piquant dish with an Asian flair.


9: Le Veau | en côte cuit au plat avec un gel d’herbes fraîches et une mêlée de courgette au amandes
Rosemary brioche
Veal has always been somewhat of a bane of mine, as I've consistently found it rather bland and indistinctive. I was thus curious as to what Robuchon would do with it. This was a sautéed veal chop with an herb gelée, zucchini-fresh almond "roulade," and veal reduction. I'm glad to report that this was one of the better veals I've had. The meat itself was quite flavorful indeed, while the gelée provided an herbaceous, mitigating contrast. The best part, though, was the amalgam of zucchini and almond, which simultaneous added a light vegetal flavor, a sharp nuttiness, and a delightful crunch to the dish.


10: Les Racines Maraîchères | coulerus de saison mêlées d'une semoule de blé parfumé à l’huile d’Argan
Gruyere brioche
After a heavy dish like the veal, I was grateful for a something like this stew of Spring root vegetables with Argan oil couscous. Argan oil is a rare oil made from kernels of the argan, a tree endemic to parts of Morocco and Algeria. It was thus the perfect oil for this North African-inspired dish, cooked and served, of course, in a tagine. The veggies had a great freshness and crispness to them, as well as a bracing bitterness that complemented the mild couscous. Deceptively simple, yet uncommonly intense--very good.


11: La Fraise | confite au sirop de citron vert, rafraîchi au sorbet Tequila
Moving on to desserts, we begin with a bowl of strawberry confit infused with lime syrup, paired with a tequila sorbet, and topped with a tuile. As you'd expect, the strawberry compote by itself was quite intense indeed, saturated with the cloying sweetness of the berry, yet tempered by the sourness of the lime. The tequila, on the other hand, made for a rather refreshing finish, tinged with an alcoholic tang.


12: Le Chocolat | aux noix de Pecan, onctuosite au gianduja
With the fruit-based dessert dispensed with, it was time for chocolate: a Nyangbo chocolate cake with pecan and light gianduja cream. Nyangbo is a chocolate from producer Valrhona, made from beans grown in the African country of Ghana. It had a complex bittersweet flavor along with a subtle spiciness that paired very well with the sweet, nutty gianduja. This was a nice combination of creamy and crunchy consistencies, and actually reminded of a similar cake I had at Fifth Floor in San Francisco.


Ice Creams and Sorbet
Following the last course, a cart carrying Tahitian vanilla ice cream, caramel ice cream, and raspberry sorbet arrived, and naturally, I had to try one of each. My favorite was easily the vanilla, which had a flavor that was so pure, so delicate, so intense, and so different from the mass market stuff. Next was the caramel ice cream, which reminded me of the brown butter ice cream I had days earlier at Guy Savoy. Finally, the raspberry sorbet was extremely tart, extremely bracing--a refreshing end.


Mignardises
Since time was of the essence, I had to skip the presentation of Robuchon's famous candy cart, and instead requested my mignardises to go; standouts here were the macaron and the canelé. In addition, I also received a rather large pistachio-raspberry cake (which I had a hard time fitting in my luggage!).

Though a superb meal, this experience at Robuchon didn't quite live up to the admittedly lofty standards of my last visit. Unfortunately, I was partly to blame for this. You see, I had a 9:30 flight out of McCarran, and thus had to leave the restaurant by 8:00, in order to catch a taxi to the airport. I arrived right at opening, 5:30, to maximize my time, but even that wasn't enough. By the end of it, I was basically eating as fast as I could, not really savoring each bite. I must give credit to the staff--I mentioned my limitation, and they were very accommodating, getting me out almost exactly at 8:00. Chef Le Tohic even came out to chat for a few minutes. Bottom line: don't cram a 4-hour meal into 2.5 hours. That being said, I do want to return to dine here, when I can afford a more leisurely pace. Monsieur Robuchon: just don't retire again before I do!

Bar Charlie (Las Vegas, NV)

Bar Charlie
3325 Las Vegas Blvd, Las Vegas, NV 89109
702.607.6336
www.charlietrotters.com/barcharlie/
Mon 06/15/2009, 09:00p-01:40a



Ah Charlie Trotter, unquestionably one of the country's leading chefs, one who has undoubtedly helped shape the landscape that is modern American cuisine--all this he has accomplished within the walls of his eponymous Chicago eatery, which I'd visited less than a month prior to this meal. Unlike many other star chefs, Trotter, for the most part, hasn't succumbed to the ills of empire building, with this Las Vegas outpost being his first venture outside of the Windy City...or is it?

That's what I thought, until I did a bit more research: it turns out that Trotter had been to the desert already. Way back in 1994, before the era of food bloggers, before the Internet even, before my time, clearly, Trotter opened a clone of the original Chicago restaurant at the MGM Grand (which itself opened in late 1993). The 68-seat Charlie Trotter's, Las Vegas was constructed at a cost estimated at $2-3 million, and was designed specifically to cater to MGM's high roller crowd; it eventually opened up to the public as well. Helming the kitchen was Guillermo Tellez, sous chef at the Chicago restaurant.

The problem was that Charlie Trotter's was ahead of its time. It was 1994; Clinton had just taken office; there were no celebrity chefs in Vegas, but 99-cent shrimp cocktails. From Chicago, Trotter brought along his food, but also its associated prix fix format (a degustation for $85 and a vegetable alternative for $65), with only one seating per night. Sin City tourists, the whales specifically, weren't ready for that. As a result, the restaurant suffered financially, and hotel management pushed Trotter and company to compromise their vision, reportedly calling for the addition of "spaghetti and meatballs" to the menu. This clash eventually led to the hotel buying out the remaining 8.5 years of Trotter's contract; Trotter himself, I've read, made out quite well in the deal.

Now here were are, 15 years later. The City has come of age, gastronomically speaking at least. As for Trotter, his approach this time around is more yielding, more in line to the Vegas M.O.: diners are no longer bound by the vagaries of a tasting menu; à la carte is an appealing option, and you can be in and out in 30 minutes. Restaurant Charlie is not a mere carbon copy of the original; rather, it's a more casual, more seafood-focused affair. Bar Charlie, Trotter’s restaurant-within-a-restaurant, goes further down that road, and even looks the part of a sushi bar. The cuisine here is unabashedly Japanese-inspired, and is advertised as a kaiseki-style experience, a fusing of Trotter's modern American approach with a Japanese aesthetic. The chef de cuisine is Hiroo Nagahara (I've also seen it as Hiroo Nagana), a college physics major who was handpicked by Trotter for his vision, his artistry. And just like the kitchen back home, Nagahara and his team pride themselves on never serving the same dish twice to a guest--the question is: after this meal, would I ever want to go back?


As with L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon, which I sampled the night before, the restaurant is located just steps from the clamor of the casino. Unlike Robuchon, the restaurant's entrance is far more subdued and subtle; we almost walked right past it. From Palazzo's lobby, it'll be on your left, along the wall, past Mario Batali's Italian steakhouse Carnevino.


Once inside, the environment is far more serene, calm, and comfortable. The room is dominated by the bar, which seats 18, and the encircled exhibition kitchen. All items, save for the desserts, are prepared in this small space.


Bar Charlie's menu is shown above; click for larger versions. The preferred method of dining is to choose a 5-, 8-, or 14-course "kaiseki" menu. However, many of the degustation items are also available individually, as are various sushi items (these would've been interesting to try).

My only issue with Bar Charlie once again had to do with the menu. We split a 14-course menu [$250] and supplemented with a couple of additional dishes. Since some of the items we had were created spontaneously, we wanted to have a copy of the entire menu to take home. This request could not be accommodated at the time, so we were told to provide our email addresses; the full menus with everything we ate would subsequently be emailed to us. Well, it's been over two weeks as of this writing (July 2), and such a thing has not occurred. Very annoyingly, this is the exact same difficulty I had with Charlie Trotter's. Really? This seems to be a problem endemic to the Trotter family of restaurants...

As for wine, I wanted to take it easy on alcohol, so I decided to do it by the glass. Bubbly is always a great way to kick things off, so I ordered up a glass of the G.Gruet & Fils "Blanc de Blancs" Brut, Champagne, NV [$17]. It showed a classic Champagne profile, with citrus and stone fruit flavors on a slightly yeasty backbone, and paired nicely with the light, fruity seafood dishes that followed.


1: Tai with Black Grapes & Celery
Kicking things off was a tai snapper with black grapes, celery, grape must, and pickled grapes. The tai was a mild fish with a great firm, crisp texture. The sweet-sour sapor of the various forms of grape was superb in drawing out the character of the tai, deftly balancing the elements of saccharine, tart, and bitter. Meanwhile, the celery root provided a lovely crunchy texture contrast. This was a strong start and an auspicious foreshadowing of things to come.


2: Shime Saba with Lavender & Mitsuba
Shime saba is a variety of marinated mackerel, and here it was presented with yuzu, grapefruit zest, amazake flan, mitsuba, lavender, ginger, and puffed rice. Mackerel is typically a very "fishy" fish, and thus the tanginess of its various accoutrements was instrumental in balancing it out, leaving a lingering citrus finish on my palate. This sour was balanced by sweet as well (thanks in part to the amazake, a sweet drink made from fermented rice), taking the mackerel to another level. At the same time, the puffed rice was an absolutely fantastic textural element, adding a light crispness to the entire dish.


3: Santa Barbara Sweet Shrimp
Next was Santa Barbara amaebi, or sweet shrimp, with tarragon foam, raspberry, and crème fraîche, all in a raspberry-lobster consommé. The pairing of shrimp with the tartness of the berry was a bit jarring at first, but this initial disconcerting feeling eventually settled into place. The amaebi's natural brininess was there, but subtle, while the berry linked up with the shrimp's inherent sweetness. And the crispy heads? Sublime--as good and flavorful as those from just about any dedicated sushi joint.


4: Mediterranean Blue Fin Tuna Tartare with Hijiki Seaweed & Daikon
When I took a look at this dish, I thought we were getting some sort of tuna sorbet! The quenelle of bluefin really was just about the finest, softest tartare I'd ever eaten; it was paired with daikon, fermented daikon, daikon Greek yogurt, battera kombu (kelp), and hijiki (a type of seaweed). The tuna itself tasted of cucumber and soy, a very mild amalgam that went beautifully with the briny seaweed, as well as the slightly sweet-nutty black sesame sauce. Very nice.


5: Mediterranean Blue Fin Tuna with Umeboshi & Hamachi Belly
The tartare was followed up with another tuna dish, this time a roulade of tuna slow-poached at 43°F, with umeboshi (a pickled fruit) cake, hamachi sashimi, in a nashi-umeboshi sauce, finished with cherry blossom ice. The akami was tasty enough, but the star of the show was the hamachi, which was just about the densest, richest version I've had, with a delectably salty finish that played nicely with the dish's tangy, grassy accompaniments.

At this point, my sparkler had been dispensed with, so it was time for another wine, this time the Riesling Kabinett "Maximin Grünhäuser Herrenberg" von Schubert, Mosel, 2007 [$19]. I was first introduced to producer Maximin Grünhäuser on my first visit to Providence, and it has never let me down. The Riesling's record continued here; it wasn't overly sweet, fortunately, but did show expected citrus notes, over a backdrop of crisp acidity, pleasing minerality, and even a bit of spice. A joy to drink with the meal.


6: Tasmanian Ocean Trout with Pearled Barley & Fennel
There was a lot happening on the plate here, a seemingly disparate mélange of ingredients: trout belly, ikura, fish stock and barley miso raviolo, fish scrap-saikyo miso sorbet, fennel purée, and crispy fried trout skin. By far the most intriguing item was the sorbet, which was about as close as I've gotten to fish ice cream! Trust me, it tasted better than it sounds. It was sweet, thanks to the saikyo miso, but with a distinctly fishy tinge to it; it went wonderfully with the salty, crunchy trout skin. The trout was also quite tasty, with an intrinsic subtle sugariness and a salty finish; it was nicely balanced by the briny ikura (salmon roe) and surprisingly, by the nuttiness of the barley.


7: Japanese Big Fin Squid with Lemon & Kanzuri Carrots
The centerpiece of this dish was a squid "egg" made with squid, shrimp, and lemon curd. Also present were sous vide squid wings, tempura squid body, carrot sauce, and pickled kanzuri carrot. I started with the "egg," which had an absolutely multifaceted texture, with a flavor dominated by squid on the attack, but finishing with the tanginess of lemon. I next had the wings, which were just about the most tender cuts of squid I've ever eaten--I wanted bigger pieces! My favorite, though, was the tempura, which was simultaneously crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, with delightfully salty flavor that went superbly with the kanzuri (a type of spice made from chili pepper).


8: Black Bean Tofu with Beets & Tokyo Scallions
The lone vegetarian course of the night, we have here housemade black bean tofu, in a fermented beet consommé, with honshimeji mushroom. The tofu was mild at first, but gradually displayed a fantastic richness and depth of flavor, much more than typical tofu, and possessed a spicy finish to boot. The crisp, flavorful skin was particularly appealing. The addition of whole black beans provided a great textural complexity, as did the crunchy homshimejis, which also gave the dish a sweet nuttiness. I was skeptical at first, but this may very well have been the best tofu I've ever had.

By now, my Riesling glass was almost empty, so I requested a beer from Bar Charlie's surprisingly comprehensive list. I left it up to the sommelier to choose, and he ended up with an Asahi "Select" Ale [$7], which I'd had last at R23. Much better than your standard Asahi, it was a more complex brew, a lively amalgamation of sweet, bitter, and spicy that seemed appropriate given the Japanese-inspired cuisine.


9: Diver Sea Scallop with Bloomsdale Spinach & Japanese Turnip
I was looking forward to this one: scallop, spinach, braised daikon, kombu, coffee-cherry sauce, and yes, pliable chocolate. The first test was to eat the scallop alone; it actually was extraordinary flavorful, with a superb sweetness accented by its perfectly caramelized surface--it easily stood on its own. I then made my way through the various accoutrements, and they all went very well (including that cube, which was daikon wrapped in spinach), before ending with chocolate. Now I don't think I've ever paired scallop with chocolate, so I was a bit wary here. I'm happy to report that the pairing went surprisingly well. The sugariness of the chocolate paired up deftly with the mollusk's natural sweetness, and the admixture almost had a spicy flavor to it.


Supplement: Oysters with Horseradish & Ponzu [$24]
At this point in the meal, my dining companion was so ecstatic about how good all the dishes were turning out that she decided that we had to try to get everything on the menu (something that was completely unexpected by me!), hence these oysters. They were simply prepared, and possessed a distinct sweet brininess by themselves, with a long, lingering finish. They came served with a trio of accompaniments: diced cucumber, sherry vinaigrette ponzu, and horseradish. The ponzu and horseradish were tangy and spicy respectively, and thus effectively cut the strength of the mollusks. The cucumber, on the other hand, was milder, but provided a fantastic crunchy consistency to balance the soft, slimy oysters. Overall, a very strong presentation.


Supplement: Yakitori Grilled Maine Day Boat Lobster & Lemongrass [$30]
Our next supplement was a preparation of lobster, with lemongrass-yellow curry dressing, basil oil, lotus root, and coconut foam. Though the claw was a bit overdone, the tail had a just about perfect, crisp consistency. The natural sweetness of lobster was a great foil to the lemon grass, curry, and coconut elements in this dish, which gave the food a decidedly Thai bent. The lotus root--crisp, savory, fantastic.


10: Braised Kurobuta Pork Belly with Braised Red Cabbage & Green Curry
With the string of seafood-based successes, both my dining companion and I were predicting that the kitchen would falter when it came to proper meat, especially something as heavy as pork belly. Here, it was braised with hibiscus, and served with green curry, coconut, tomatillo, kaffir lime oil, Thai basil, cilantro, shiso, onion, and jalapeño (whew!). I first cut a piece of the belly by itself, and noted that it oozed oil upon being pierced by my knife. Upon tasting, I noted a delicious bacon-like flavor intermixed with a delightful smoky char--this was the real deal. I then "dragged it through the garden," trying the pork with its various veggie concomitants. The result: fantastic; the weight of the pork was countered so masterfully, so adeptly; pork belly was transformed into a light, blithe dish. Probably the best pork belly I've experienced yet.


11: Braised Miyazaki Wagyu Short Rib
Could lightning strike twice? Indeed it did. Braised beef short rib certainly competes with pork belly in terms of gravitas, but once again, the kitchen managed to temper the meat's heaviness to great effect. The beef itself had an inherent delicate sweetness to it, with a lovely herbal tang as well. Texturally, it was tender, but not too tender; it still had a nice chew to it, and the tough, charred bits mixed things up as well. The char also provided a lovely smokiness to the dish, but the key was the mustard foam. Its peppery tang was instrumental in offsetting the richness of the beef. Again, very, very good.


Intermezzo: Hibiscus Granita, Sour Yogurt Sorbet
With dessert upon us, we were given this small palate cleanser, consisting of a hibiscus granité, topped with a sour yogurt sorbet, served with peach, golden raspberry (which my dining companion was particularly fond of), blackberry, blueberry, and raspberry. The berries were scrumptious, and were tempered somewhat by the tart yogurt.

I wanted a sweet wine to go with dessert, and thus requested a glass of Pedro Ximénez. There was some miscommunication, and I was brought the Tokaji-Aszú "5 Puttonyos" Royal Tokaji Wine Company, Hungary, 2003 [$16] instead. It actually worked out for the better though, as the Tokaji paired beautifully with the two fruit-based desserts to follow.


12: Basil Semifreddo with Strawberries & Olive Oil Ice Cream
Scott from the pastry team explained to us that the strawberries used here were from Harry's Berries, a purveyor from Southern California; I'd encountered their strawberries before at Providence. In any case, here they were paired, in sliced and sorbet forms, with basil and olive oil. The olive oil ice cream was especially interesting, with a rather heavy palate, followed by a lingering savory finish. The basil semifreddo and basil oil, meanwhile, provided a fresh tanginess that offset the juicy sweetness of the berries. Like many of the things we tried tonight, the various items didn't seem like they'd work together, but amazingly, they did.


13: Chamomile-Stewed Rhubarb
Sort of a mini-dessert, this was rhubarb stewed in chamomile, with hemp, honey, and coriander--sweet at first, but with a tangy finish and a bit of savoriness from the tuile as well.

It was finally time for the Montilla-Moriles "PX Gran Reserva" Bodegas Toro Albalá, Spain, 1979 [$17] I ordered earlier. It was about what I expected, with plenty of raisin, plenty of smoke, plenty of sugar sweetness--it'd be great with the chocolate...


14: Dark Chocolate with Banana & Roasted Hazelnut
Flourless dark chocolate cake, banana sorbet, sherry vinegar gastrique, chai foam, banana chip. As a testament to the dessert's prowess, my dining companion, who doesn't like bananas, adored this. The chocolate was lovely, as expected, but the banana stole the show. It really tempered the richness of the cake, while imbuing the senses with the very essence of banana, creating a dessert that was all at once rich, decadent, fruity, yet light.


Mignardises
A quintet of mignardises to close out: (1) a honey-pistachio nougat that wasn't bad; (2) guava pâte de fruit--the very heart of guava encased in jelly; (3) cherry caramel with honey and thyme (what Scott likes to call "honey crunchies"), which reminded me of the herbal-sweet interplay of the butterscotch budino at Pizzeria Mozza; (4) a crunchy, nutty, sweet almond dragée like I had at Charlie Trotter's in Chicago; and (6) a cherry-almond truffle.

No question: Bar Charlie exceeded my expectations, by a lot. The fusing of American and Japanese approaches really worked near flawlessly I thought, with bold, light but forceful, focused flavors that exploded on to my palate. My dining companion even went as far as to say that there were no misses whatsoever--quite a lofty accomplishment indeed, and I may even agree with her (all dishes were tasty, but some dishes were more tasty than others). In fact, I liked this better than the original, but don't tell Charlie that! It really is one of the best restaurants in Las Vegas, which nobody knows about. Let's just hope that Restaurant and Bar Charlie last longer than Trotter's previous Vegas venture.

L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon (Las Vegas, NV)

L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon
3799 Las Vegas Blvd S, Las Vegas, NV 89109
702.891.7358
www.mgmgrand.com/restaurants/atelier-joel-robuchon-french-restaurant.aspx
Sun 06/14/2009, 05:40p-09:20p



The year: 1996. Joël Robuchon, at 50 years of age, was at the peak of his career, a giant on the French cuisine scene; his eponymous restaurant in Paris was rated at three Michelin stars, and he himself had been deemed "Chef of the Century." On the back of all this, Robuchon did the unthinkable--he announced his retirement. He wanted to go out on top, and was to serve his last meal on July 5, 1996, afterwards handing over the keys to his restaurant to Alain Ducasse.

Robuchon thus retired, but not really. He couldn't keep himself away from the kitchen entirely, and continued to act as a restaurant consultant. There were rumblings of a comeback, and in 2001, Robuchon returned, opening Robuchon à Galera at the Hotel Lisboa in Macau. But oddly enough, he stayed away from Paris. For that, he was crafting up something new, something revolutionary: gourmet counter dining. In 2003, Robuchon opened his Atelier, or workshop, in Tokyo and in Paris. Las Vegas debuted in 2005, with New York, London, and Hong Kong the following year. For L'Atelier number seven, I've heard rumors of Taipei, Tel Aviv, Philadelphia, and even Miami.

With L'Atelier, Robuchon wanted to break the fine dining mold, to create a dining experience whereby diners surround the kitchen. In his years off, Robuchon traveled extensively to Japan, and fell in love with the place; thus, it's not surprising that the idea behind L'Atelier resembles that of a sushi bar. At his restaurant La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon in London, Robuchon expands the concept even further--there, diners are literally surrounded by the kitchen (the entire restaurant, thus, is a "kitchen table").


L'Atelier is located next door to its bigger brother, Joël Robuchon at The Mansion, and both restaurants are steps away from the hustle and bustle of the gaming floor. Whereas Joël Robuchon represents somewhat of a sanctuary, transporting the diner away from the noise and action of the casino, L'Atelier allows some of that to seep in...



...As evidenced by the slick, sleek, sexy black and red decor, the work of Pierre-Yves Rochon. The granite counter encircling the exhibition kitchen accommodates about two dozen, while tables expand capacity by 16 (but why sit at a table?). Robuchon has described the ambiance as resembling a "giant bento box."


Ordering at L'Atelier is probably best accomplished via the Menu Decouverte, priced at $148. Our Discovery Menu is shown above (click for a larger version), though we did consider going à la carte as well; for that, there's the Dégustation menu of smaller plates, as well as typical Carte selections. A new option is "L'Unique," three courses for $39, served within 15 minutes, and available daily until 6:45. The cuisine at L'Atelier is French at its core, with touches from Spain and Italy, and is similar for all six restaurants across the globe. The Las Vegas location is run by Steve Benjamin, who also worked at L'Atelier in Paris. I asked for his signature on the menu, but it doesn't look like him who signed it!


Bread was a very nice house-made pain de epi, served with salty, savory butter.


1: L'Amuse-Bouche | crémeux de foie gras au Porto et son émulsion au parmesan
Nahe, Riesling, Dönnhoff 2007 [$18]
We got right into the menu, starting with a foie gras parfait topped with port wine gelée and Parmesan foam. Served in a large shot glass, the amalgam had an intensely cheesy nose thanks to the Parmigiano. On the palate, I noted port, foie gras, then cheese on my first bite, with subsequent bites have differing levels of interplay. Unfortunately, the Parmesan was a bit more apparent than I'd hoped for, stealing the show from the foie gras in a sense. This was also a heavy starter, and I would've appreciated something lighter. For wine, there's no set pairing, so I asked the sommelier for a small array of wines by the glass to go with the food. He started off with a Riesling from Dönnhoff, one that was prototypical of the style, showing notes of citrus, stone fruit, and fresh flowers; it was a light, sweet, juicy, easy-drinking wine that my dining companion, who's not a huge wine drinker, even enjoyed.


2: Le Saumon Fume | dans une gelée marbrée aux sucs d'herbes, crème légère au raifort
Nahe, Riesling, Dönnhoff 2007 [$18]
Another dish served in a cup--here we have cubes of smoked salmon encased in an herb gelée, topped with a light wasabi cream. Now this would've made for a more proper starter. The salmon "aspic" was properly tarted up by the application of herbs, but the wasabi was even better, providing a fantastic foil to the fish, resulting in a lingering, spicy finish to the dish. Very nice!


3: Les Huitres | de Kusshi pochées dans leur coquille au beurre salé
Monterey County, Chardonnay "Cuvée Carlotta" Talbott 2005 [$25]
Moving along, next was a trio of baby Kusshi oysters poached in salted Echiré butter. Kusshi oysters are a Pacific breed that bear resemblance to my favorite, the Kumamoto. They tend to be small, plump, and clean and briny in flavor--all pluses for me. Though I usually have my oysters raw, I loved the cooked presentation here, swimming in butter from Échiré, a town in the Deux-Sèvres department of western France. The oysters were served quite piping hot, and the initial flavor was of butter; it was only after a few seconds that the briny flavors of the mollusks became apparent. Lemon wasn't necessary, though it did add a pleasant acidic tang to the dish. This was simply one of the best preparations of oysters I've had, and I quickly gulped down all three. With this course, we moved onto a new wine, Talbott's Cuvée Carlotta Chard. It was fairly dry, grassy, and vegetal, with a strong backbone of minerality and fruit. It had a just a hint of butteriness, which linked up well with the Echiré, and a clean, light finish--quite good.


4: Le Homard | à l'américaine aux asperges vertes
Monterey County, Chardonnay "Cuvée Carlotta" Talbott 2005 [$25]
This was L'Atelier's take on Homard à l'Américaine, a very classic preparation of the crustacean. Though it's "à l'Américaine," the dish is decidedly French in origin; however, no one knows exactly where it came from. In any case, it was lobster cooked in olive oil, then served with a tomato-Cognac sauce, and finished with macaroni and asparagus. Though the course didn't break any new grounds in terms of flavor, it was delicious nonetheless. The lobster itself had a fantastic, crisp consistency and rich flavor, and was expertly balanced by the tartness of the tomato sauce, and the slight bitterness of the asparagus. The macaroni, meanwhile, added some interesting textural variation. Very good with the Chardonnay as well.


5: Le Foie Gras | en ravioles dans un bouillon de poule avec une fleurette pimentée
Burgundy, Chassagne-Montrachet "Les Vergers" 1er Cru, Seguin-Manuel 2005 [$35]
Our second variation of foie gras came in ravioli form, in a chicken broth, with a bevy of herbs including basil, mint, Thai basil, ginger, and espelette pepper. The raviolis gave me a pleasant pop upon mastication, providing just a hint of that signature liver sapor, over a backdrop of the complex, vegetal broth. My dining companion wanted more foie gras flavor, but I really appreciated its subtlety here. I even enjoyed the soup by itself, with its light spicy herbaceousness, making sure to consume every last drop. It matched well with the wine, a Chassagne-Montrachet that was very thin, and that showed similar vegetal, spice, and straw notes as the food.


6: Le Maquereau | filet sur la peau aux jeunes artichauts épicés à l'huile de gingembre
Burgundy, Chassagne-Montrachet "Les Vergers" 1er Cru, Seguin-Manuel 2005 [$35]
Now, I eat mackerel all the time in sushi form, but it is somewhat rare for me to have a cooked presentation. We have here a filet of mackerel, cooked a la plancha (on a flattop grill), with baby artichokes, mushrooms, bell peppers, and spicy ginger oil. Mackerel is usually a pretty oily and "fishy" fish, so I'm glad that the kitchen kept that characteristic here. The mackerel alone was quite powerful, so the use of vegetables really balanced out the dish; the ginger especially was a great contrast.


Supplement: Le Burger | au foie gras et aux poivrons verjutés [$32]
Côtes-de-Rhône "Mon Coeur" Domaine J.L. Chave 2006 [$20]
"Le Burger" was the one detour we made from the Discovery Menu, a result of the recommendation of a certain Michael Cherney, whom I'd met several months ago at Bistro 31, the student-run restaurant at The Art Institute of California-Los Angeles. At the time, Cherney was finishing up his culinary education there, and was cooking at Ortolan, under Christophe Émé. Cherney mentioned that he was moving to Las Vegas to work at L'Atelier, and thus I decided to pay him a visit. He'd just started the week prior, and was heading up the garde manger station; the burger was an item that Cherney described as "amazing." And indeed it was: a beef slider basically, topped with foie gras and caramelized bell pepper, served with crinkle-cut pommes frites. The burger had an intense foie gras aroma, and biting into it, I experienced the very essence of foie, intertwined with just about the juiciest, most tender beef patty ever. All this would've been too much, had it not been for the veggies, which provided an absolutely crucial foil--excellent. My dining companion even mentioned that this was "20 times better" than Daniel Boulud's infamous DB Burger. And those crinkle-cut French fries? Best I've ever had--perfect texture, perfect saltiness--give me a whole bag please.


7a: L'Caille | au foie gras, caramélisée avec une pomme purée truffée
Côtes-de-Rhône "Mon Coeur" Domaine J.L. Chave 2006 [$20]
For course number seven, we were given two choices: quail or lamb, and naturally, we went for one of each. "L'Caille" is actually one of L'Atelier's most well-known dishes. It is a free-range quail, stuffed with foie gras and caramelized, served with truffled-mashed potatoes. Unfortunately, I felt that the foie gras was too strong for the quail, overpowering the bird's delicate taste. The quail was otherwise competent, but unexceptional, though I did appreciate the truffled pommes purée. Our last wine pairing was Jean-Louis Chave's Côtes du Rhône Mon Coeur--a great pair, with notes of game, earth, pepper, and dark ripe fruit.


7b: L'Agneau de Lait | en côtelettes au jus et à la fleur de thym
A rather similar looking dish to the quail, we have here a roasted rack of lamb, au jus, with fresh thyme. Lamb and thyme is a classical pairing, and it worked well enough, making for a tasty though somewhat pedestrian experience. Nevertheless, the lamb went well with the included mashed potatoes, Robuchon's signature item. It's quite surprising that a chef of Robuchon's stature would have such a simple dish as his most famous, but it was indeed one of the best preprations I've ever had: creamy, rich, savory, and very fine.


8: La Peche | confite au Moscato d'Asti, lait frappé à l'abricot
And with that, we were off to desserts. Starting off was a peach confit infused with Moscato d'Asti, with apricot milkshake and sorbet. I quite enjoyed this, as the very quintessence of peach was captured so elegantly and yet so forcefully here. The pieces of confit were quite sweet, as expected, but were tempered by the relatively mild, creamy milkshake. The use of Moscato d'Asti added a slightly alcoholic tinge that set off the peach nicely as well. Superb.


9: L'Acai | en petites paillettes givrées, crème légère caramel
Last but certainly not least, we have an acai granité in a light caramel cream with cotton candy. Acai berry refers to the fruit of the açaí, or aqai, palm. It had a fairly tart, typical berry taste and thus was deftly countered by the caramel cream, which added weight and depth to the dessert--very good.

I must say that I was quite impressed with L'Atelier. Much of the food served would not seem out of place in a 3-star setting, and thus Robuchon manages to blend a proper haute cuisine experience with a friendly, interactive environment. Such natural reciprocity between chef and diner is almost Japanese in its approach, and is a fitting concept that does well in promulgating Robuchon's gastronomic aesthetic. So in the end, we have great food, in a setting that is simultaneously sexy and hip, even trendy--a request for Monsieur Robuchon: forget Taipei, forget Tel Aviv, forget Philly, forget Miami; for your next L'Atelier, make it LA!

Restaurant Guy Savoy (Las Vegas, NV)

Restaurant Guy Savoy
3570 Las Vegas Blvd, Las Vegas, NV 89109
702.731.7110
www.caesarspalace.com/casinos/caesars-palace/restaurants-dining/restaurant-guy-savoy-detail.html
Sat 06/13/2009, 06:00p-08:30p



It'd been a while since my last visit to Las Vegas, so a return trip was appropriate, especially considering that it was my birthday weekend. I had a Cirque du Soleil show to catch later that night at the Bellagio, so a light dinner at Guy Savoy (pronounced ghee sah-vuah) at Caesars Palace was in order for meal #1 in Vegas.

But first, a bit of history: Monsieur Savoy was born in 1953 in Nevers, a commune in central France in the Bourgogne region. A couple years later, his family moved to Bourgoin-Jallieu, a commune in the Isère department of southeastern France. His mother ran a small restaurant, and living near Lyon, the so-called culinary epicenter of France, Savoy was exposed to an environment that imbued within him a love for great, seasonal food. As a result, at age 15, a young Guy Savoy already knew that he was destined to become a chef.

Shortly thereafter, Savoy began apprenticing at various establishments in the country, beginning with chocolatier Louis Marchand. In 1970, he moved to the famed restaurant Les Frères Troisgros in Roanne, then to Chez Lasserre in Paris, to Lion d'or in Geneva, and to L'Oasis in La Napoule. In 1977, Savoy was recruited by Claude Verger to run the kitchen at La Barriere de Clichy in Paris. Then, in 1980, Savoy opened his eponymous restaurant on Rue Duret in Paris, which proved quite successful, garnering its first étoile Michelin after only a year, and its second in 1985. In 1987, Restaurant Guy Savoy moved to the nearby Rue Troyon, where it sits today; the restaurant achieved 3-star status in 2002, and it was also in this year that Savoy was voted "Chef of the Year" (Chef de l'Année) by his peers.

Savoy also owns four other eateries in addition to his namesake: Atelier Maitre Albert (a rôtisserie), Les Bouquinistes, and Le Chiberta, all in Paris, and, of course, the subject of this post, Restaurant Guy Savoy in Las Vegas. The restaurant opened in May 2006, and is a close counterpart to its Parisian brother, with a menu that is about 90% identical. Savoy's son Frank (formerly of the one-star Le Chiberta) runs the show in Vegas and oversees service that is formal, yet not overly stuffy, with a right amount of levity and warmth. In fact, the younger Savoy greeted me upon entering; his charisma was palpable, and he jokingly offered to dine with me upon hearing that my dining companion had cancelled on me (I then asked if he was going to pay!).


Restaurant Guy Savoy is situated on the second floor of the Augustus Tower, across from the Qua Spa and the hotel's wedding chapels, and well away from the hustle and bustle of the casino floor. The entrance marked by large slatted double doors, set in dark wood--they recall the doors of the original Rue Troyon location (much in the same way French Laundry's signature blue doors are duplicated at Per Se).


The dark wood motif continues in the Jean-Michel Wilmotte-penned interior, where it's nicely contrasted by the light beige walls adorned with contemporary art--the overall look is serious and sleek, modern and minimalist. Large windows drape the space in natural light, and also provide a view of the "Eiffel Tower" (the Paris restaurant has no such view!). The restaurant seats around 75 diners, in the main dining room pictured above, as well as in three private salons--Axelle, Eliott, Leah--named after some of Savoy's grandchildren. Finally, a chef's table in the kitchen seats six.


A few dining options are available. There is a three-course $98 Pre-Theater Menu, a $190 TGV Menu ("a 90-minute experience"), and a $290 Menu Prestige (shown above, click for larger version), featuring an array of Savoy's best-known dishes, as executed by Executive Chef Eric Bost. You can also go à la carte, buy why? For smaller budgets, an appealing option is the "Bites and Bubbles" menu of small plates, available in the restaurant's "Bubble Bar." Or, on the opposite side of the spectrum, there is the newly-created Krug Menu, a $750 six-course menu paired with Krug Champagne, including vintages 1985, 1988, 1990, and 1995 (no Clos du Mesnil or Clos d'Ambonnay though unfortunately).


Canapé 1: "French Club"
Upon being seated, I was brought this "French Club," consisting of alternating layers of duck foie gras and brioche. The initial flavor was quite mild, with the bread taking a more dominant role; however, as I chewed, the essence of foie gras became stronger and stronger, ending in a manner not unlike that of a foie gras terrine. Also notable was the textural contrast between the intentionally stale bread and the creamy foie.


Canapé 2: "French Burger"
Next was another micro-sandwich, the "French Burger" of cooked beef tartar with Parmesan cheese. It was ridiculously tender and flavorful, with a bit of a tangy finish to boot. If only full-sized burgers could be this intense!


At this point, some bread was brought out--first, a plate containing a large loaf of black pepper-rosemary country loaf, and then a shot glass holding a pair of bread sticks. The sticks were especially notable, as I was expecting something rather hard and brittle, but instead got bread that was flaky and cheesy. They were delicious, reminding me of the gruyere gougères at CUT. Bread was served with unsalted butter, pepper, salt, and salted butter.


Amuse Bouche Trio
Next was the formal amuse bouche course. I first tasted the parsley-based minestrone soup with celery, tomato, and cucumber. It was a light but hearty potage, with a tangy, vegetal, even nostalgic taste that harked back to my childhood. I then had a tiny tomato tempura, a small bite with a lovely tart, creamy, cool center balanced by a savory, crunchy exterior. But wait, there's more! Lift the plate and you'll find a quenelle of warm beef salad with romaine and tomato. This was my favorite of the troika, and reminded me of a braised preparation of beef, but lighter. It had a profound depth of flavor and tender, yielding texture--excellent.


I was then presented with the most impressive display of bread I'd ever witnessed (yes, even more impressive than at Robuchon!). There was no way I was going to remember all the varieties; I mentioned this to the bread server (pictured above), and he suggested a bread pairing. I'd never experienced such a thing before, so of course I responded affirmatively.


Special Course: Peas all Around | Tout Petits Pois
Marc Brédif, Vouvray, 2004
Country Loaf
Now, I don't if it was because I was taking photos of the food, or perhaps everybody gets this, but my meal proper started with a dish that wasn't listed on the menu (it was from the TGV, in fact). I'm not complaining, however, as it turned out to be one of my strongest courses of the night! We have here twice peeled (to extract maximum pea flavor) English peas, over a pea gelée, in a pea purée, dressed in chive oil, mixed with what I believe were curly cress microgreens, topped with a quail egg (which my server proceeded to slice open), and served with a country loaf brushed with more chive oil. My server stated that the dish was meant to represent the transition of seasons from spring to summer, and indeed, it was a breath of fresh air, like eating freshly picked greens. The very quintessence of pea was captured so forcefully, so elegantly in this dish. The peas' flavor was so sharp, so shiny, while the microgreens provided a delightfully bitter, tangy, lingering finish that was deftly balanced by the rich, creamy, decadent egg--sort of the polar opposite of the veggies. A light, bright dish like this deserves a wine in the same vein, and the Vouvray from producer Marc Brédif fit the bill perfectly, showing sweet, fruity citrus and grass notes over a slightly effervescent body--a great start.


1: Marinated Lobster, Salad and Gelée of Spring Herbs | Homard comme un Carpaccio, Herbes en Gelée et Salade
Marc Brédif, Vouvray, 2004
Seaweed Ciabatta Bread
Now we get to my "official" first course, which was only a little less wondrous than the Petits Pois. There's lobster, sure, over a chevril-tarragon gelée, topped with calamari and tapioca cooked in a lobster sauce, then flanked by an haricot vert-pea herb salad on either side. The lobster itself had a just about perfect, snappy texture, and was imbued with a great citrus tang--I would've been happy just eating it alone. But that would be missing the point. The calamari sauce added a superb savoriness and depth to the crustacean, while the use of tiny tapioca pearls provided a fantastic chewy textural element. And I still haven't gotten to the salad, which contributed yet another dimension to the course, with its great crunchiness from the peas and its crisp vegetal contrast, lightening the whole amalgam. Finally, we have the bread, a seaweed ciabatta. What was interesting about it was that initially, it tasted just like any other bread; it was only until further mastication that its seaweed flavors were revealed. The pairing of the briny, ocean-y seaweed with the natural flavor of lobster: brilliant. Another excellent course.


2: « Colors of Caviar »
Domaines Schlumberger, Grand Cru Saering, Riesling, Alsace, 2006
Ciabatta Bread
Next was one of Chef Savoy's most well-known creations, a multilayered affair of caviar vinaigrette, topped with caviar crème fraîche, topped with Ossetra caviar, topped with haricot vert purée, topped with hot egg sabayon, all eaten with a traditional mother of pearl spoon. Upon sniffing, I noted an eggy nose from the sabayon, while the first bite revealed a flavor progression of sabayon, haricot vert, caviar, and haricot vert again, in that order. Bite number two was sabayon-caviar-crème fraîche-caviar, and subsequent bites were subtly different, depending on how the various layers were intermixed. This was a fascinating study in different textures, tastes, and temperatures--I wanted a bigger glass! It was interesting to note that, in order to accentuate and not overwhelm the delicate flavor of the caviar dish, the bread server paired a simple, mild, plain ciabatta with the course. The wine too, needed to underscore the caviar without dominating it. I thought that the Schlumberger did a great job, with light floral and mineral flavors in a pleasingly dry Riesling.


3: Crispy Sea Bass with Delicate Spices | Bar en Ecailles Grillées aux Epices Douces
Mersault, Joseph Drouhin, 2004
Lemon Bread
Another one of M. Savoy's signature dishes is this sea bass, cooked skin side down (to make it crispy), topped with a ginger-vanilla fish stock foam, served with white and green Swiss chard and baby shiitake mushroom, and garnished with a commixture of spices including black pepper, fennel, and Sichuan pepper. Smelling it, the dish gave out an intense vanilla nose due to the foam, and eating the fish alone, this vanilla essence proved too powerful for the sea bass, overpowering the fish's natural flavor. So what to do? The key was to pair the fish with the other items on the plate. The chard, for example, tempered the vanilla's sweetness with a refreshing bitterness, while the shiitake added vegetal and earthy notes to balance out the bass, and the spices, naturally, provided a spicy finish to foil the fish. Even the bread played a role, with the bits of lemon zest and lemon confit contributing a sour tang, neutralizes the fish's sweetness. Texture-wise, I had no complaints, as the flesh was rare and tender, replete with a wonderfully crisp, savory skin.


4: Foie-Gras "en Papillote" and Radish Bouillon | « Radis-Foie »
André Ostertag, Barriques, Pinot Gris, Alsace, 2006
Caramelized Ciabatta Bread
I'm generally not a huge fan of cooked foie gras, much preferring the liver in terrine or pâté form, so I wasn't expecting much from this course--big mistake. The kitchen starts with Hudson Valley Moulard duck foie gras, which is pan-seared, then cooked en papillote. This means that the foie is sealed in a plastic pouch and then cooked; the food thus steams in its own juices, along with cherry vinegar and pink radishes. The transparent, bloated pouch is then brought to the table, where it's cut open, revealing the foie's intoxicating bouquet (a mix of unctuous and bitter aromas), before being brought back to the kitchen to be plated. The result of all this hoopla was arguably the best cooked foie gras I've ever had. My problem with seared foie is usually that it's too sweet, due to accoutrements like pineapple compote or apricot marmalade. After eating this, I must ask, why suffer with overly saccharine foie gras when you could do it bitter? The radish really cut the weight of the foie gras, which would've been far too overwhelming and monolithic on its own. Using the radish leaves added a bitter, vegetal, spicy, pungent smack that took foie gras to new heights for me.


5: Artichoke and Black Truffle Soup, Toasted Mushroom Brioche, and Black Truffle Butter | Soupe d'Artichaut à la Truffe Noire, Brioche Feuilletée aux Champignons et Truffe
Domaine Bitouzet-Prieur, Volnay, 2002
Mushroom Brioche
Arguably Guy Savoy's most famous dish, we have here a soup of artichoke, topped with shaved Parmesan and sliced black truffle. The resultant aromas of this soup was about as heady as you could imagine, abound in the smells of truffle and cheese, two elements which continued onto the soup, which was absolutely saturated with flavor, held back tenuously by the relative levity of artichoke. Really, it was the soup that was the star, not the sliced truffle itself per se. The potage's counterpart was the brioche, which was stuffed with mushrooms and spread with truffle butter. It was a rich, flaky, soft bread that my server encouraged me to dip in the liquid. This was a simple, yet prodigious, duet of flavors that stood up nicely to the wine, a Volnay from Bitouzet-Prieur that was simultaneously light, juicy, tight, and fruity.


6: Milk Fed Poularde, "Pochée-Laquée", Ragout of Cepes | Poularde « Pochée-Laquée », Ragout de Cepes
Château de Sales, Pomerol, 2000
21 Graines Cereal Bread
Though this was a chicken dish, it was quite unlike any other chicken I've had before--it was milk-fed, fattened young neutered hen, "poached-lacquered," with a chiffonade of cabbage, garnished with a duo of raw and cooked porcini (a.k.a. cepes). The chicken itself was quite firm, dense, heavy, with a creamy, mild flavor that was somewhat nondescript on its own. What made this dish was were the vegetables, with the cabbage providing a light, crunchy complement and the raw mushrooms--the best part of the dish--expertly balancing the weight of the chicken. What was interesting was that the bird stood up admirably to the red wine pairing, and not just any red wine, but Bordeaux, a Pomerol no less. The Château de Sales was a smooth, mature-tasting wine, with plenty of smoke, leather, and meat.


7: Sélection de Fromages Affinés
Clos de L'Oratoire des Papes, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, 2004
Raisin Fruit Bread
I always appreciate a good cheese cart, and Savoy's was certainly up there in terms of quality. I also must give credit to the cheese server, who took his time to make sure that I understood what every cheese was. I ended up choosing a varied quintet of fromage, paired with raisin-fruit and pine nut-cherry breads. Clockwise from midnight:

• Cabécou Feuille - My first selection was a soft goat cheese from southern France, one that's dipped in plum brandy and sprinkled with peppercorns before being wrapped in chestnut leaves. The result was a mild, slightly tangy, very peppery cheese that was quite unlike any I'd had before.
• Crottin de Chavignol - Arguably the most famous of Loire Valley cheese. A goat's milk cheese, the Crottin was slightly tangy and a bit nutty, with a medium body--I quite liked it. Don't eat the rinds on this one.
• Mimolette - A hard cows milk cheese with a cheese mite-infested crust, this is one I had at Michael Mina's XIV on opening night. Originally created to resemble Edam, the cheese had a dry, savory, nutty flavor that went very well with the wine.
• Saint-Marcellin - Next was this soft cow's milk cheese from the Isère region of France. A rich, creamy cheese, it was my favorite of the bunch, showing lovely nutty and earthy flavors--very nice.
• Fourme d'Ambert - A fairly prototypical bleu, this was a semi-hard pasteurized cow's milk cheese from Auvergne, injected with Vouvray moelleux. This is another one that I had at XIV.

Intermezzo: "All About Green Apple"
Time for a little palate cleanser before the desserts: a green apple gelée, topped with green apple sorbet, green apple foam, and mixed with brioche. The cool, crisp, sharp, tart essence of green apple was superbly captured here, making for a rather bracing experience. The addition of brioche added a crisp texture contrast, and contributed a marked bready flavor, making the whole amalgamation somewhat reminiscent of apple pie.


8: Strawberry Rhubarb | Fraise Rhubarbe
Charles Hours, 'Uroulat', Jurançon, 2004
The first proper dessert was a study in different textures based on strawberries: strawberry gelée, chopped strawberries, strawberry crunch, all topped with strawberry juice. The sweet berry flavor was moderated somewhat by the slight sourness of the rhubarb sorbet, while the gelée provided a great textural counterpoint, and the sorbet a nice temperature contrast. This was a light dessert, so I was pleased with the pairing of the Uroulat, which was off-dry rather than sickly sweet, crisp not heavy, with plenty of apple and stone fruit flavors.


9: Chocolate Sphere | Boule Blanche
Château Pajzos, 5 Puttonyos, Tokaji, 1993
The dessert came presented initially as a red-speckled white sphere. My server subsequently proceeded to pour on a raspberry consommé, which effectively broke through the outer shell, revealing a filling of raspberry sorbet and tuile. Though the chocolate shell was quite thin, it was surprisingly heavy, so the tart raspberry was effective in balancing it out. A heavier wine pairing was in order here, and the Tokaji worked nicely. Being a 1993, the wine was a bit older than I'm accustomed to having, with a taste that was more complex, more oxidized than normal.


Mignardises
Now it was time for the funnest part of the meal: the mignardise cart! I was quite full by this point, so I tempered myself, limiting my selection to only six items. They were: (1) white chocolate with basil, with the strong basil mellowing the chocolate; (2) a surprisingly restrained praline rice pudding; (3) an herbal, then sweet fennel macaron; (4) crème caramel, basically a crème brûlée without its caramelized top; (5) a subtle lychee marshmallow; and (6) brown butter ice cream, with a rich, heavy caramel flavor.


Grab a few chartreuse and caramel candies on the way out.

During this meal, I kept thinking to myself that Guy Savoy may be deserving of a three-star Michelin rating. Given my last meal at Picasso, a fellow Vegas two-star, it seemed to me that Savoy and company were clearly in another league culinarily. And even looking back at the New York three-stars I visited over the holidays, the food at Savoy excited me more than that at Jean Georges or Le Bernardin, and perhaps even at Per Se. Overall, I came out quite impressed--the place exceeded my expectations, showcasing the kitchen's dedication to quality produce, precise technique, and culinary creativity. The food is unabashedly French, yet seems to be so much more, demonstrating some of the boldest, brashest tastes I've encountered in a while, with focused, lively flavors that seem to jump off the plate. Prediction: it took the original Guy Savoy 22 years to gain that third étoile, Vegas won't take nearly as long.

Old Vine Café (Costa Mesa, CA)

Old Vine Café
2937 Bristol St, Costa Mesa, CA 92626
714.545.1411
www.oldvinecafe.com
Thu 06/11/2009, 07:00p-10:00p



It's official: Aaron has left the building. To commemorate his departure, bloggers have been holding a series of farewell dining excursions over the past couple of months--Canelé, for example. Since all the events had been LA-focused, Ila of I Nom Things proposed an OC event at one of her favorite spots. Joining us were Matt of Rumdood and Ryan of Only Eat What Feeds Your Soul.

The place was none other than Old Vine Café. Old Vine serves up breakfast (which it's especially well-known for), lunch, and dinner, and also houses a wine and specialty food shop. Chef Mark McDonald, a Laguna Culinary Arts graduate (who also studied at the Italian Institute for Advanced Culinary and Pastry Arts), creates a seasonal menu of California-inspired continental fare highlighting the influences of France, Italy, and Spain. Meanwhile, at the front of the house, brother Brandon runs the show and implements the restaurant's wine program.


Old Vine Café is situated in The CAMP, a so-called "nontraditional shopping center"--basically a strip mall gussied up with wood, lots of wood. The restaurant's neighbors include a Bikram Yoga studio, a vegan eatery, and a tattoo parlor, basically exactly what's needed to attract The CAMP's target clientele of hipsters, hippies, and other "alternative" folks...


...yet the people at Old Vine seemed so ordinary, so...OC. No matter, the dining room is a small and intimate affair, accommodating around two dozen or so patrons in a quaint, comfortable setting. Or, take a seat outside, weather permitting.


Diners can chose from a dynamic selection of small plates, or, go for one of the three tasting menus offered, each priced at an attractive $65 including wine. I was able to sample the Original as well as the Seasonal Tasting Menus, denoted as "A" and "B" below, respectively. Click for larger versions.


To pair with the food, Old Vine presents a focused selection of crafts beers, along with an international array of value-conscious wines, with many offerings available by the glass; click for larger versions. One appealing option is to purchase a bottle from the attached wine shop, pay a corkage fee, and open it in the restaurant.


While waiting for the man of the hour to arrive, I ordered up a Scaldis [$7], a lovely, malty Belgian ale that hid its prodigious 12% ABV well. Ryan, meanwhile, chose a saccharine, seductive Cerveza Cucapa Honey Beer [$5] from Mexico, and Matt imbibed a German, the Reutberger Export Dunkel [$6]. Ila, bucking the beer trend, chose something more feminine, the house-made Tempranillo Sangria [$7]. It was pretty much everything I'd expect from Sangria--light, fruity, refreshing--though Ila and I disagreed about the relative merits of the presence of chopped fruit bits in the punch.


A1: Sautéed Sea Scallop on a nest of Crispy Leeks finished with Tarragon Chardonnay Sauce
2007 Macon-Vinzelles Chardonnay, Bourgogne France
The first thing that struck me about these scallops was their texture--incredibly soft, tender, and delicate--just about perfect. Their taste was also quite delicate, too much so in fact. The mollusk's brininess was present, but in very small amounts, and unfortunately the accoutrements presented did not fully highlight the scallops' flavor. The crisp leeks, however, did provide a great textural contrast. The wine here was a Bourgogne Blanc, one that paired very well with the scallops, especially considering their Chardonnay-based sauce. The Macon-Vinzelles was grassy and minerally, very nice overall, with a slightly hot finish that was tempered by the food.


B1: Panko Crusted Goat Cheese, on a bed of Organic Mixed Greens with a Red Grapefruit Vinaigrette
2007 Botromagno Gravina, Puglia Italy
As I bit into the rough sphere in front of me, I found a delightfully mild goat cheese that was soft, creamy, and just a bit tart. This stood in stark contrast to the sphere's exterior, coated in crunchy breadcrumbs, resulting in a lingering savory finish. Next, I had the cheese with the rest of the dish, and enjoyed the sweetness of the grapefruit, as well as the power of the bitter greens, and how both elements intertwined deftly with the chèvre. As for the wine, I wasn't a huge fan of the Botromagno Gravina upon first tasting it, finding the wine a bit too lean for me, with very notable earthy and soapy notes. Fortunately, it got better with the food, as its flavors of stone fruit, spice, and minerals became more apparent.


A2: Handmade Fettuccini Pomodoro garnished with Aged Pecorino Romano Cheese
2005 Icardi Barbera D'Asti, Piedmonte Italy
Pomodoro means "tomato" in Italian, and refers to a way of cooking pasta with a tomato-based sauce. It is really a simple, classic Italian preparation and in this case, the pleasant tartness of the sauce, along with basil and olive oil, nicely complemented the heavy fettuccine pasta. The tomato's tanginess also matched the acidity of the wine, a Barbera from producer Icardi that showed hints of smoke and rock, bound with overarching aromas of berry fruit.


B2: Hand Made, Lasagnette filled with Bosina Robiola Cheese, Zucchini, Shitake Mushrooms and a Fresh Herb Pesto Cream Sauce
2006 Cantine Rosa Del Golfo Scaliere Negroamaro, Salento Italy
Lasagnette refers to a narrower version of lasagna, and here, the pasta was filled with a lovely amalgam of ingredients and coated in a pesto cream sauce. The result was a dish that was heavy on the basil and the cheese (not a bad thing), resulting in an earthy, heady flavor, heightened by the zucchini and shiitake--quite tasty. As for the wine, I believe that this was my first experience with the varietal Negroamaro. It is a wine from Southern Italy, and combined notes of dark fruit, earth, smoke, and meat into a round, somewhat rustic blend--a solid, but not superb pairing for the lasagnette.


A3: Four Ounces of All Natural Filet Mignon and Crispy Fried Onions with Bleu Des Basque Demi Cream Sauce
2006 Gouguenheim Cabernet Sauvignon, Argentina
Filet mignon is almost always a safe choice. Here, the steak itself was solid, nicely tender, but not spectacular. Though I do enjoy blue cheese, the Bleu Des Basque demi was a bit too strong for me, masking the natural flavor of the beef. The onion notes were also powerful, albeit not as distracting, and I enjoyed their crispness. The wine was typical for a Cabernet, though perhaps less fruit-forward and more influenced by smoke and rock.


B3: Certified All Natural Australian Lamb Chop, Sautéed Mustard Greens, Tortilla Espanola and a Peppercorn Monastrell Demi
2004 Portico del Castillo Monastrell, Yecla Spain
Unfortunately, I was less interested in the lamb than in the greens and potato here! The meat was merely competent, and lacked the boldness and intensity of a really great lamb. Nevertheless, the dish was saved by the mustard, which provided a fantastic bitter contrast to offset the meat, as well as the delicious, hearty Spanish omelet. The wine was also Spanish in origin, a Monastrell, a.k.a. Mourvèdre. It was a softer, rounder libation compared to the preceding Cab, with a notable viscosity and plenty of peppery and gamey flashes--a nice pairing.


A4: Grandma's Cheesecake, Wild Berry Puree
NV Ferreira Ruby Port
My grandma never make cheesecake like this before. The creamy custard portion was very lemon-y indeed, though this was offset somewhat by the berry purée and fresh fruit. Now Port would normally seem like a rather heavy pairing here, but since this was a Ruby version, it was still light and bright, matching the character of the dessert.


B4: Pear and Walnut Phyllo Dough Purse drizzled with Pear, Vin Santo Syrup and dusted with Powdered Sugar
2002 Agricoltori del Geografico Vin Santo Del Chianti
My final course of the night was this "purse," an amalgam of pear and walnut that really demonstrated a considerably nuttiness, balanced by the tart flavors of fruit. As such, the paired Vin Santo was very befitting, with the wine's inherent sweet nuttiness complementing the walnut for an almost amaretto-esque effect.

I walked away from Old Vine feeling pretty good about the place (though admittedly, I was a quite buzzed). The food is straightforward, simple, not mind-blowing (there were certainly misses), but solid, honest, and unpretentious. The brothers' commitment to featuring fresh, seasonal produce is apparent, and the restaurant presents a "neighborhood" type feel that invites me to come back. It's really a refreshing change from the "corporate" dining scene that seems oh-so-common behind the Orange Curtain.