August 23, 2006
Typically the hype surrounding the opening of a famous chef's newest venue tends to increase one's expectations beyond all belief. In finance-driven Manhattan, the capital questions are therefore frequently posed: how can a multimillion-dollar transformation turn an existing space into the next Michelin three-star venue? Can the sky-high prices be justified? Will the diners be utterly wowed? Given the irrational exuberance earlier in this new millennium that led to much dramatic pre-opening theater of Alain Ducasse at Essex House, it perhaps made sense that Joël Robuchon first went to Las Vegas before coming to New York. Considering how many classic French restaurants such as Lutece have vaporized in recent years, Robuchon assiduously skated around New York to see which trends would ultimately prove successful in the new dining arena. After all, much has been written of late that Las Vegas is now the in dining city in America. While we would beg to differ, given Las Vegas' history of featuring performing showgirls rather than Broadway musicals, one must note that the longevity of a show—even with a turkey that you know will fold—is significantly longer in Vegas than in New York. Which is another way of saying: the critics, of which there are many here, number far fewer there.
Joël Robuchon's new Atelier, an intimate, discrete, and elegant dining room, transforms this Four Seasons hotel space into a clearly more successful and subtle incarnation than its predecessor, with a harmonious color scheme augmented by muted tones and fresh flowers throughout the room. Pierre-Yves Rochon, who designed both L'Atelier in Paris and the interiors of the Essex House in New York, created this Robuchon space in collaboration with renowned architect I. M. Pei. Given the current penchant for supersized dining rooms, overuse of theatrics and exotic ingredients, Robuchon clearly understood which elements would be most successful for his Atelier concept in New York, and he accordingly delayed opening until satisfied with this clever combination of the right elements.
While the initial visual impression might be that the 20 stunningly-designed red bar seats can be held in equal esteem to the modest 30 black seats in the dining room, nothing could be further from the truth. The proximity to the other diners at the bar cannot be overcome by the extraordinary food or the highly attentive level of service. Simply, sitting at the bar is a vastly different experience, perhaps suitable only for a lunchtime tasting or quick dinner meal. In contrast, the 30 seats scattered throughout the room offer various levels of privacy. Some are literally elbow-to-elbow, whereas other tables have the discretion and space a long-time patron at the nearby Four Seasons restaurant would expect. In short, the maître d'hôtel of L'Atelier has been conferred powerful benefits found only in a handful of other New York restaurants. Clearly Robuchon—this sexagenarian superstar who semi-officially “retired” 10 years ago—has taken a page from the Las Vegas and Paris restaurants. Well aware of pecking order in New York, where all tables are not created equal, the power lunch and hotel dinner take on new meaning here. For the new form of casual haute cuisine today means substituting woven Chilewich placemats for white tablecloths; less formality, cream and butter; and sourcing of ever-more exotic ingredients. In short, the jet-setting chef's offerings can be all things at once—traditional and less formal, contemporary and exquisite, avant-garde and international. For the multinational Four Seasons has annexed the international brand of Joël Robuchon, and one is told the expectations of the hotel's diverse guests exceed those of the most demanding New Yorkers. And ergo: a star, one whose signature dishes are already well-known in France, Japan, and the United States.
But given that Robuchon's prices are on par with and in some places exceed those of Ducasse, Masa and Le Cirque, perhaps the most pressing question is: Try a tasting menu or order à la carte? The menu decouvert at $160 per person has many excellent offerings, certainly vastly superior to the additional lunch menu club at $60. But solely based on the 20 small tasting portions available à la carte, it seems a pity not to try as many as possible, given the superb range of choices. Therefore, two of us ordered four tasting dishes, two main courses, three desserts, and wine by the glass, given the vastly inflated bottle prices and that the list is a rather slapdash hodgepodge. (Obviously this list will be refined in the future.)
Much has been written about l'oursin, a sea urchin in tender jelly, topped with cauliflower cream. We omitted this in favor of a splendid pan-fried sea bass with a lemon grass foam and stewed baby leeks, the appearance of which was nearly as impressive as the harmonious flavors. A layered foie gras and caramelized smoked eel with oriental flavors was utterly divine, with the crispy yet somewhat sweet eel a brilliant complement to the rich foie gras. Robuchon's signature langoustine was a joy: a crispy langoustine fritter with basil pesto, cooked to perfection.
Main courses—substantial and vastly expensive—range from le thon rouge, a lightly seared toro (tuna) belly, to foie gras ravioli, a gracious rack of lamb, sliced-to-order Kobe beef ribeye, and a steak tartare with hand-cut frites. Do try l'onglet, a French-style hanger steak with sautéed shallots, piquant peppers and trumpet mushrooms, served with the famous Robuchon mashed potatoes in a mini-Le Creuset dish. Do not omit the superb la caille, caramelized free-range quail stuffed with foie gras, and served with truffled potato purée. A more perfectly-prepared quail can hardly be imagined, and the techniques in preparation of this dish again highlight Robuchon's extraordinary virtuosity. (In deference to Chicago's recent banning of foie gras, ordering these two portions of foie gras in one meal seemed all the more enjoyable.) The possibilities are many, and at few other restaurants does making a choice seem to involve a profound sense of loss—the potential loss of something not sampled.
The stellar desserts underscore pastry chef's Kazutoshi Narita genius. At the astounding price of $20 apiece, the splendid dishes on which they are served further highlight their jewel-like appearances. Le chocolat noir, an unctuous creation of dark chocolate with a semisweet coffee mousse was both visually lavish and superb for its well-balanced flavors. Les cerises, cherries with an almond soufflé and bitter almond ice cream was nearly hypnotic in its effects, a dazzling combination of textures. The true visual phantasmagoria, however, is called le sucre, served atop a transparent glass dish. An enormous pearl-like sphere, which when pierced reveals flavors of violet and lychee as well as several other complex elements we will keep secret so as not to spoil this surprise. It is outstanding, unforgettable, vastly complex, and unique. Coffee and espresso at $9 apiece are served with flair and elegance, reminding us of what we have experienced at top Swiss hotels. It's the Four Seasons, and that is that.
Many of the staff have been at the Four Seasons for more than ten years, and their collective experience is clearly of much value to Robuchon, despite the obvious soft-opening kinks that inevitably occur. We were bemused by so few types of bread, the lack of any amuse bouche (despite that despite that "2 amuse bouche — 0.00" was the first item on our bill), and no after-meal petit fours. But despite our attempts to find fault with the service, nearly every detail was impeccable. Given that the cost of doing business is far higher in New York than in Las Vegas, it seems inevitable that the price of haute cuisine will continue to rise exponentially. For with more than two dozen hands at work in the kitchen and with an enviable waiter-to-diner ratio, the needs of the patron are correctly anticipated. Wine ordered by the glass and drained just before the entree was served was noted by a waiter hovering so discretely that he went to fetch a fresh bottle immediately and returned in under one minute. During our most recent dining experience, a Brazilian family of four—three elegant ladies plus a father wearing cutoff shorts and constantly barking into his cellphone in Portuguese—posed questions in three languages, and clearly all their questions were answered with elegance. Our dining companion as well as the Brazilian lady at the adjacent table had no placemat. As one the numerous attentive waiters asked repeatedly throughout the meal if there was anything else we desired, it therefore ultimately seemed appropriate to mention: "A placemat." It appeared in 30 seconds. French grandmothers know from experience that a doily under an impressive dish makes it seem all the more impressive with that ornamental mat underneath. Hence Joël Robuchon's legendary personal attentiveness to the details. For this is not the theatrical setting of Le Cirque; it is a hushed and tranquil place to dine, where waiters hover and the service is neither stilted nor contrived.
Tags:
alain ducasse, four seasons, joel robuchon, Kazutoshi Narita, le cirque, michelin
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Posted on 8/23/2006
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August 07, 2006
Something amazing is underfoot on tiny Cleveland Place, and if you arrive early enough in the evening, you may be fortunate enough to get impromptu tutorial in the production of the incredibly complex and brilliant desserts created by wunderkind Will Goldfarb. With his remarkable pedigree, Goldfarb quickly turned this seemingly-modest 26-seat dessert bar into probably the most transformative dessert experience in New York. Goldfarb describes himself not immodestly with good reason: "Raised on the sunny shores of the Costa Brava at the age of 24 with mixed reports. Moved to pastry to avoid law school and ended up in Paris instead of surfing Southern California. Stumbled among giants early in the career, and found difficult to retreat."
While Goldfarb's personality is very much part of the experience here—you might even see him changing the CDs or greeting guests out on the street—his culinary skills indeed merit special attention. It seems that his work with Spanish geniuses Ferran and Albert Adria crystallized his dedication to avant-garde culinary techniques, and Room 4 Dessert functions both as kitchen laboratory and astounding gastronomic world unto itself.
Despite some initial glitches with service—perhaps you might have read Bill Buford's New Yorker piece about his tour of duty here in the early days—we've repeatedly found the atmosphere warm and inviting, even for those utterly unfamiliar with Goldfarb's techniques. You would be wise to order the $12 plates with four desserts each, as each is a tour de force that stands on its own. Sit close to the door to observe the preparation of these marvelous plates. Although the menu changes with the season, particularly extraordinary are a pistachio financier with pistachio butter, the creation of which was described in minute detail and is far more complex than one might imagine. The flavor is intense and superb. A fruit "caviar" defies any explanation other than stunning, these little gems with a concentrated tang. Recent selections include a "Chocolate Banlieue" featuring cocoa foam, chocolate parfait, panna cotta vanilla and "cocoa sirop". Housemade mascarpone is divinely paired with cherries (whipped cherry gelee), a fennel confit, pain ecossais and "little pieces of amaretti" which are indeed miniature. A tasting of four desserts simply titled "Red" was one of the highlights of mid-summer. For on the level of molecular gastronomy, Goldfarb offers up so many transformed gems. You will be astounded by the somewhat crispy/dehydrated surprises served in a modest clear plastic bag, charmingly slit open by your server. With those ubiquitous woven placemats, attractive porcelain and tasteful utensils, the atmosphere translates as SoHo casual meets haute cuisine, where stunning surprises await you.
Wine pairings and speciality cocktails are equally delightful. We found the sweet wines on offer terrific, from a nice Auslese Riesling to a 1999 Sauternes, as well as more unusual selections such as a marvelous Gruner Veltliner and a refreshing Lambrusco. But with the rosé Perrier-Jouët Blason de France on offer as well, Goldfarb's selection of Champagnes may just be the perfect complement to your desserts.
Now with a website called Willpowder that sells speciality technical products too obscure and complex for ordinary home cooks to obtain on their own, Goldfarb makes innovation possible for the home cook with this dazzling product line and "online support network". Want to make mango caviar in the style of Adria's El Bulli? Just order the sodium alginate and soon you'll be spherifying "all manner of shapes and sizes of liquid center flavor carriers". Or order methylcellulose for creating hot emulsions, and so forth.
Tags:
bill buford, fernan adria, will goldfarb
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Posted on 8/7/2006
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August 02, 2006
New SoHo and Nolita dining venues take their page from Cicero's Orator, aiming to teach and to delight. But what exactly do they wish to teach? A bit of sophistry: how ethnic dining can be modified the way a sauce can be reduced, to a thick essence that doesn't exactly resemble the original components. Among this crop of new arrivals, InTent is surely the most instructive exemplar. For delight it does, but in the way of the sophist. InTent's style is sweet, fluent and copious; wine flows freely, the guests are delighted by their surroundings, and the atmosphere is of hushed tranquility. From its charming façade, entirely of glass doors, the diner is beckoned in from Mott Street. Like so many of the surrounding shoe stores or even Cafe Gitane or Ciao Bella up the street, this conceit is a tried and true one, yet it continues to work. Gaze upon that delightful banquette along the northern wall, surrounded by earthy tones in this well-lit and airy room with an inviting bar that features an intriguing bottle display (another well-known conceit). For a relaxing afternoon lunch, we recommend sitting in the café section by the oversized glass doors at front.
But the dramatic action at night takes place in the tent at rear. Guests are led past the narrow kitchen, where chef Craig Freeman, a veteran of Le Cirque 2.0, can be seen assembling dishes from his delightful menu that successfully marries the downtown hankering for innovative cuisine along with some traditional fare albeit with unusual and creative touches. This rear space is both warm and inviting, where a rather dreamy Moroccan mood has been conjured up, replete with water cascading gently over a wall of stones, a number of oversized bronze platters on the walls, and a massive and lengthy table dividing the two sides of the dining room. Think subdued elegance meets new-millennium exotica, assisted by the canopy above and waterfall at rear. It's pure sophistry, of course, for the menu contains few enough Moroccan elements (e.g. "Moroccan mojito") that we'll just call it brasserie hybrid. Fortunately, the ornamentation ends with the decor, and the menu is both superb and clearly fluent. In the words of Cicero, "Some spend their labor on smoothness and uniformity, and on what we may call a pure and clear style." That exactly seems to encapsulate Freeman's style. For starters, a warm eggplant tart topped with thin strips of zucchini and a tomato compote has a harmonious balance of subtle flavors. The tart's crust is exactly what you would expect from François Payard, master of pâtisserie: flaky, buttery and perfectly baked. A warm curried crab Napoleon has a hint of exoticism, masterfully layered and delightful on a hot summer evening. The monkfish mousse is a tour de force, a superb ballon served in an oversized glass, with an artfully-prepared tomato gelee at bottom and a wedge of grilled country bread vertically inserted into the mousse. It's one of the most sophisticated yet deceptively uncomplicated appetizers appearing on any menu today. Starters are accompanied by delightful country bread served with three tangy and tasty spreads, all based on Mediterranean ingredients like chickpeas, olives and parsley.
As you enjoy your wines—there is a fine selection—the surroundings become a bit more exotic. Think Scheherazade or Salome as your eyes focus on that enormous table, with its intricate chessboard design and Moroccan-style lanterns atop it. (The New Yorker in you wonders when this will disappear in order to accommodate five more tables of four; after all, Nolita rents are at a premium these days.) Your server, wearing a long-sleeve brown t-shirt (that truthfully would be more appropriate in a restaurant about half this price) then arrives with the astounding main courses. For example, a Branzino Cassolette that appears shockingly simple, a plain filet of white-fleshed fish atop an onion marmalade with just a few slices of roma tomatoes on top. But its flavor is extraordinary, and as you dig more deeply through the dish, the true power of the oratory becomes clear: you've been completely swayed by its subtlety and sweet flavor. A grilled Black Angus steak also has this power, served with superb crispy panisse fries and a tasty caper-herb sauce. Those slow braised pork ribs also work a particular magic, what with a honey-coriander glaze and a small dish of apple-date chutney to accompany them. The skilled orator's honey-dripping words described by Cicero are transformed here into both a delightful visual display where every morsel is delicious. Preserved lemon couscous and black olive crushed potatoes are two side dishes you will want to taste for their intricate yet refined piquancy. The one tip of the hat to Morocco, tagine-style eggplant, does again underscore how the preparation of authentic Moroccan dishes in a city with many North African immigrants seems elusive. Where is that authentic tagine?
Although the evening dessert menu after dinner could use a bit more tweaking, as the offerings are mostly fruit-based and seemingly rather uninspiring, they nevertheless are artfully prepared and visually most attractive. The warm dark chocolate tart is utterly divine, its free-flowing contents flow lavalike upon piercing the marvelous crust.
Tips: order an additional dessert from the café menu, when possible. A late lunch of Croque Monsieur or Niçoise Pan Bagnat along with iced mint tea is most refreshing.
Tags:
cafe gitane, craig freeman, francois payard, french, intent, le cirque, mediterranean, moroccan, nolita, soho
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Posted on 8/2/2006
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