I'm still basking in the glow of my visit on Saturday, April 2nd.
I have enjoyed good meals before, at Rovers in Seattle, Charlie Trotters in Chicago, or Les Freres Troisgros, but never with such a feeling of playfulness or fun.
As one would expect the technical execution is of the very highest order. "Slow roasted Yukon Gold potatoes" hardly prepares one for the excrutiatingly perfect brunoise of potatoes, arranged as if in a mosaic depicting a cresting wave, beneath an exquisite piece of fish. Similarly "Pickled Anjou Pears" would not immediately suggest the caviar sized balls of pear that pepper a sauce, providing little explosions of flavor.
On the evening of our visit I selected The Tasting menu, which translated to the following:
Gugeres, one each, delicately puffed with warm moist air. The pre-amuse, and not on the menu.
Amuse - the well known, and deservedly so, Salmon tartare cones, again not on the menu.
"Oysters and pearls", again well known sabayon of tapioca pearls with Malpeque oysters and Sevruga caviar. Keller has said that the goal is to present each course sized so that you only have the initial joy of a new taste, never so much that you become tired of it. There are two exceptions to this rule: caviar and foie gras. Caviar because you need more than just a hint to "get" what it's all about, and foie gras because it's all about excess. This is certainly true here, a very generous serving of Sevruga atop a wickedly delicious custard, as a backdrop to two dainty oysters.
A selection of breads was offered and I recommend finding room if only as a vehicle for the butter. We were given two butters one a sweet cream European style, the other a salted variety. The salted butter starts as a hand rolled sweet cream butter from a creamery in Orwell, VT - and yes, it really is called The Animal Farm. Apparently Chef owns four cows there. The kitchen salts this butter with fleur de sel, and it is divine.
Now you are faced with a choice, a salad or the foie gras. Who are we kidding, this is a choice? I had the torchon of foie gras with field rhubarb, celery branch, Sauterne-Telicherry peppercorn "gelee" and a toasted brioche. This is a very generous round of poached foie gras and a doorstep of toasted brioche, it's like buttering toasted butter with foie gras. An excellent glass of '86 Sauternes paired very well with this.
Sauteed fillet of St Peters Fish, with the aforementioned roast yukon gold potatoes and black truffle coulis. Perfectly treated Tilapia with just the right crispness seared to the outside. This first of two fish courses was accompanied by a half bottle of Meurseult.
"Fricasee" of Maine lobster "mitts", spring onions, baby leek "batons", glazed pearl onions, Mizuna "puree" and sauce "soubise". How do you baton baby leeks without them falling apart? Thankfully Kellers' kitchen has it figured out even if I never have. The sauce soubise arrives as a gentle, salty, foam enveloping the other ingredients, a nice counterpoint to the sweetness of the lobster. The Meurseult is now finis.
My first meat course next, Pan Roasted Four Story Hills Farm Squab, caramelized sunchokes, pickled Anjou pears and "Nicoise" olives. A squab breast is the perfect size to give just a few bites of intense discovery, and leave you wanting slightly more. I asked my server how it was possible to have squab taste so much like foie gras, and he admitted that there was a little foie fat involved. When the handling of the fowl during its short life is so carefully controlled as here, one may safely serve it fairly rare and really get the best of its texture and flavor. A tiny, perfectly trimmed squab drumstick rolled in finely chopped parsley sat to one side, barely a nibble. I defy anyone not to grin at the sight.
A half bottle of '97 Hermitage Red had been decanted, and was partially consumed with the squab.
Next was a Ribeye of Elysian fields Lamb "en Persillade", a "cassoulet" of spring pole beans and Jacobsens Farm's Thyme infused olive oil. As with all the vegetables the beans are organic, and as with most of the vegetables they had been harvested that morning. A very robust serving of Lamb, looking much more like a steak, and simply devine in texture and taste.
Cheese next, "Brebis des Pyrenees" with French Laundry granola (a firm, crunchy, slice) young (!) Arugula leaves and plumped Red Currant "gastrique".
To cleanse we next have a Banana Sorbet, Muscovado "Genoise", Braised Maui Pineapple, Mango "Pate de Fruit" and a Yogurt Caramel "Croustillant". Devine. Every flavor at just the right level, nothing overpowers. I cannot quite get my head around making a Yogurt caramel Croustillant, how to create both the crisp snap and yet keep the acidity of yogurt. I suspect that, were I to try at home, I would end up with a gooey mess of separated yogurt solids.
Dessert is "Tentation au Chocolat Noisette et Lait". An insanely perfect Milk Chocolate "Cremeux" with the smooth shiny outer appearance of a chocolate shell, yet the creamy texture of a mousse. Perched on the "back" of this half-egg are three salted, caramilized, hazelnuts perfectly arranged by a steady hand, in size order. It sits atop a hazelnut "streusel" and is kept company by a Madagascar Vanilla Ice Cream.
As if perhaps this was not quite enough dessert I then received an unexpected "Pot au Cream", a warm and beautifully coffee flavored custard.
The Mignardises, when they arrived, faced an uphill struggle. We sat staring uncomprehendingly at them, wondering why they were there and what to do with them. I looked at our server and asked "These will be the wafer thin mints?", came the quiet reply "I'll get Sirs bucket". You get a lot of extra points from me when you recognize a film reference, and have the confidence to join in the customers moment of dark humor. Clearly we were not the first to balk at the prospect and they were expertly boxed for us.
Once we emerged into the night air I called one of my closest friends; trained at the Cordon Bleu in Paris 10 years ago he's a frequent co-conspirator in culinary adventures. I was trying to convey the amount of fun I had just had, the sense of elation at discovering that someone, somewhere, was able to pull off this kind of show. The no-holds-barred approach to selecting only the finest ingredients, the uncomprising application of technique, yet through it all this sense of fun and enjoyment. The work in the kitchen is fiercely serious, but the goal is something to delight and surprise.
The pace of the meal was actually quite brisk; seated at 5:30 we were finished by 8:15 - but it felt perfect. If one of the party needed a moment upstairs, oddly the location of the restroom, nothing would arrive in their absence. If one diner elected to have the Dinner menu, with 2 fewer courses, they would receive a full place setting to match their partners extra course - either to share or just for the sense of balance on the table.
Service was crisp yet friendly, our server had cast himself as our guide for this adventure and saw nothing at all wrong with our wonder at each new plate of perfection. No matter that he hears it all the time, our enjoyment was what mattered for that evening.
Yes, it can be difficult to get a reservation. Yes, it is a lot of money, but it is great value. How many times do you have the opportunity of trying something that may very well be the best in the world?
Kevin
I have enjoyed good meals before, at Rovers in Seattle, Charlie Trotters in Chicago, or Les Freres Troisgros, but never with such a feeling of playfulness or fun.
As one would expect the technical execution is of the very highest order. "Slow roasted Yukon Gold potatoes" hardly prepares one for the excrutiatingly perfect brunoise of potatoes, arranged as if in a mosaic depicting a cresting wave, beneath an exquisite piece of fish. Similarly "Pickled Anjou Pears" would not immediately suggest the caviar sized balls of pear that pepper a sauce, providing little explosions of flavor.
On the evening of our visit I selected The Tasting menu, which translated to the following:
Gugeres, one each, delicately puffed with warm moist air. The pre-amuse, and not on the menu.
Amuse - the well known, and deservedly so, Salmon tartare cones, again not on the menu.
"Oysters and pearls", again well known sabayon of tapioca pearls with Malpeque oysters and Sevruga caviar. Keller has said that the goal is to present each course sized so that you only have the initial joy of a new taste, never so much that you become tired of it. There are two exceptions to this rule: caviar and foie gras. Caviar because you need more than just a hint to "get" what it's all about, and foie gras because it's all about excess. This is certainly true here, a very generous serving of Sevruga atop a wickedly delicious custard, as a backdrop to two dainty oysters.
A selection of breads was offered and I recommend finding room if only as a vehicle for the butter. We were given two butters one a sweet cream European style, the other a salted variety. The salted butter starts as a hand rolled sweet cream butter from a creamery in Orwell, VT - and yes, it really is called The Animal Farm. Apparently Chef owns four cows there. The kitchen salts this butter with fleur de sel, and it is divine.
Now you are faced with a choice, a salad or the foie gras. Who are we kidding, this is a choice? I had the torchon of foie gras with field rhubarb, celery branch, Sauterne-Telicherry peppercorn "gelee" and a toasted brioche. This is a very generous round of poached foie gras and a doorstep of toasted brioche, it's like buttering toasted butter with foie gras. An excellent glass of '86 Sauternes paired very well with this.
Sauteed fillet of St Peters Fish, with the aforementioned roast yukon gold potatoes and black truffle coulis. Perfectly treated Tilapia with just the right crispness seared to the outside. This first of two fish courses was accompanied by a half bottle of Meurseult.
"Fricasee" of Maine lobster "mitts", spring onions, baby leek "batons", glazed pearl onions, Mizuna "puree" and sauce "soubise". How do you baton baby leeks without them falling apart? Thankfully Kellers' kitchen has it figured out even if I never have. The sauce soubise arrives as a gentle, salty, foam enveloping the other ingredients, a nice counterpoint to the sweetness of the lobster. The Meurseult is now finis.
My first meat course next, Pan Roasted Four Story Hills Farm Squab, caramelized sunchokes, pickled Anjou pears and "Nicoise" olives. A squab breast is the perfect size to give just a few bites of intense discovery, and leave you wanting slightly more. I asked my server how it was possible to have squab taste so much like foie gras, and he admitted that there was a little foie fat involved. When the handling of the fowl during its short life is so carefully controlled as here, one may safely serve it fairly rare and really get the best of its texture and flavor. A tiny, perfectly trimmed squab drumstick rolled in finely chopped parsley sat to one side, barely a nibble. I defy anyone not to grin at the sight.
A half bottle of '97 Hermitage Red had been decanted, and was partially consumed with the squab.
Next was a Ribeye of Elysian fields Lamb "en Persillade", a "cassoulet" of spring pole beans and Jacobsens Farm's Thyme infused olive oil. As with all the vegetables the beans are organic, and as with most of the vegetables they had been harvested that morning. A very robust serving of Lamb, looking much more like a steak, and simply devine in texture and taste.
Cheese next, "Brebis des Pyrenees" with French Laundry granola (a firm, crunchy, slice) young (!) Arugula leaves and plumped Red Currant "gastrique".
To cleanse we next have a Banana Sorbet, Muscovado "Genoise", Braised Maui Pineapple, Mango "Pate de Fruit" and a Yogurt Caramel "Croustillant". Devine. Every flavor at just the right level, nothing overpowers. I cannot quite get my head around making a Yogurt caramel Croustillant, how to create both the crisp snap and yet keep the acidity of yogurt. I suspect that, were I to try at home, I would end up with a gooey mess of separated yogurt solids.
Dessert is "Tentation au Chocolat Noisette et Lait". An insanely perfect Milk Chocolate "Cremeux" with the smooth shiny outer appearance of a chocolate shell, yet the creamy texture of a mousse. Perched on the "back" of this half-egg are three salted, caramilized, hazelnuts perfectly arranged by a steady hand, in size order. It sits atop a hazelnut "streusel" and is kept company by a Madagascar Vanilla Ice Cream.
As if perhaps this was not quite enough dessert I then received an unexpected "Pot au Cream", a warm and beautifully coffee flavored custard.
The Mignardises, when they arrived, faced an uphill struggle. We sat staring uncomprehendingly at them, wondering why they were there and what to do with them. I looked at our server and asked "These will be the wafer thin mints?", came the quiet reply "I'll get Sirs bucket". You get a lot of extra points from me when you recognize a film reference, and have the confidence to join in the customers moment of dark humor. Clearly we were not the first to balk at the prospect and they were expertly boxed for us.
Once we emerged into the night air I called one of my closest friends; trained at the Cordon Bleu in Paris 10 years ago he's a frequent co-conspirator in culinary adventures. I was trying to convey the amount of fun I had just had, the sense of elation at discovering that someone, somewhere, was able to pull off this kind of show. The no-holds-barred approach to selecting only the finest ingredients, the uncomprising application of technique, yet through it all this sense of fun and enjoyment. The work in the kitchen is fiercely serious, but the goal is something to delight and surprise.
The pace of the meal was actually quite brisk; seated at 5:30 we were finished by 8:15 - but it felt perfect. If one of the party needed a moment upstairs, oddly the location of the restroom, nothing would arrive in their absence. If one diner elected to have the Dinner menu, with 2 fewer courses, they would receive a full place setting to match their partners extra course - either to share or just for the sense of balance on the table.
Service was crisp yet friendly, our server had cast himself as our guide for this adventure and saw nothing at all wrong with our wonder at each new plate of perfection. No matter that he hears it all the time, our enjoyment was what mattered for that evening.
Yes, it can be difficult to get a reservation. Yes, it is a lot of money, but it is great value. How many times do you have the opportunity of trying something that may very well be the best in the world?
Kevin