Schneier

I called today and got a reservation for the 11th. It wasn't that hard. Bruce

It's a combination of things. One, expectations are very high. Two, the competition among the dishes during a single meal is fierce. And three, the meal was stellar even though it was not perfect. Honestly, I was surprised that everyone around the table agreed that it was worth it...despite the failures and glitches. But it was. Bruce

Wine cost was about $100 a person. We tried really hard to keep is reasonable, which wasn't easy. Corkage is $50 a bottle. It's excessive, but not when you compare it to the markup on the wine list. But in the private room, you're not allowed to bring in your own wine. You have no choice but to order off the list. Bruce

It's been years, but I have excellent memories of Everset. Bruce

Wow. That is ominous. What was it? A review of Hardee's? Bruce

It's different. It's not a Vietnamese restaurant. You can't order a bowl of pho, or a bun. It's just not comparible. Personally, I find the "nouveau Asian" trend, one that was started by places like the Slanted Door in San Francisco and Pasion in Philadelphia, to be the best thing that happened to American restaurants in years. "Food from the hot zone." I love those places. Bruce

The first thing that arrived in e-mail was the wine list. It's an impressive list: 426 wines, fifty pages worth, some of them costing thousands. Reading through it took fifteen minutes. Discussing it with the rest of my group took weeks. We had no choice, though. When you have a table at the French Laundry's private room, they want you to choose your wine in advance. Yep; the French Laundry has a private room. It's for parties of at least eight and of at most twelve. There's no menu choice; you get the nine-course tasting menu, tailored to the wines you've pre-chosen for the meal. But here's the secret: it can be reserved up to six months in advance. If you're a large group, this is the secret back door to avoid the telephone queue every morning. Four weeks ago today, eight of us had dinner in the private room. It's upstairs, through an arched doorway off the main room. It's also small. At eight we were crowded; I can't imagine how they manage to squeeze in twelve. But open doors lead onto the balcony on two of the sides, and the weather was nice enough to walk outside and rest between courses. Not what I expect when I reserve a private room--I expect a door that closes and some room to maneuver--but it did just fine. We were offered our champagne in the garden, but we decided to have it at our table. It was a NV Billiot Rose Ambonnay, well balanced with a nice minerally crispness that matched the next three courses well. The first amuse-bouche was a gougere: a Gruyere pastry ball. It was good, but nothing special. Pity, as this seems to be what they give everyone to start. Two of our party arrived early and waited in the garden for the rest of us--they were given a pair of gougeres to keep them company. But no time to feel any disappointment, as this was quickly followed by a second amuse-bouche: a cornet cone filled with salmon tartare, lemon-infused olive oil and red onion creme fraiche. Wow! This was delicious in every way. The interplay of flavors--lemon, cream, black sesame--and the balance of textures--soft salmon against crispy cornet--was inspired. It was fun. It was serious. It delighted the palate and left everyone wanting more. Luckily, more was to come. Printed menus were at our place settings when we sat down, and the first dish off that menu came next: "'Oysters and Pearls': 'Sabayon' of pearl tapioca with Begaduce River oysters and Iranian Osetra caviar." This is one of Thomas Keller's signature dishes, and I've read it about it many times. It lived up to the hype. The tapioca pearls, the oyster pieces, and the caviar were a medley of round toys for the palate, and the briny flavor was gently blended by the sauce. It was flavorful and complex, while at the same time light and balanced. Luxurious without being overwhelming. A prefect match for the champagne. For some of us, this was the best dish of the night. The next course was a surprise, not on the printed menu. It was an eggshell standing on end with its top neatly sliced open. (I had seen this presentation before, but for some at the table it was a novelty.) Inside was a mixture of custard, white truffle oil, black truffle ragout, potato and chives. One of us called it a "culinary Faberge egg," and it was delicious. The rich and earthy truffle flavors made the dish very intense, and was matched well with our second wine: a 2001 Prager Gruner Veltliner "Ried Achleiten," Smaragd. And ephemeral; just a few spoonfuls and it was gone. My only wish is that there was more. But that just meant that there was some Gruner left for the next course. Second on the menu, fifth if you count the amuse-bouches, was the salad: "Salad on Hawaiian hearts of palm with breakfast radish, celery branch and 'fines herbes' vinaigrette." When we first saw this on the menu we were skeptical, but we were all surprised. Each individual ingredient was perfect, and the mixture of flavors and textures worked well. It probably helped that Keller positioned this dish after two rich courses. An unexpected surprise, and another good match for the Gruner. Our third wine choice was 1979 Baumard Savenierres "Clos de Papillon." There are some Loire wines that age long and beautifully, and this was certainly one of them: fascinating complexity on both the nose and the palate, and still quite young at 24. Amazingly, Keller produced a dish to match. It was "Grilled filet of Hawaiian big-eye tuna with Italian eggplant 'chutney' and madras curry 'emulsion.'" Another delicious dish. The tuna was perfectly grilled; the top was just barely browned, with the degree of doneness tapering off slowly through pink to the seared bottom. The texture was flaky without losing its integrity. The waiter commented that this is an unusually good variety of tuna. It was certainly among the best pieces I'd ever had. But it was the sauce that made the dish. The eggplant/curry mixture complemented without overwhelming. Is it possible that somebody knew that 24-year-old chenin blanc tastes like eggplant and curry? It just couldn't have been a coincidence. Number seven (if you're counting): "Sweet butter poached Maine lobster, caramelized fennel bulb, crystallized fennel chip and sauce 'noilly prat.'" One of the problems with eating an entire meal at a restaurant like the French Laundry is that you rapidly lose all sense of perspective. This is a dish that, I believe, would be the star of a meal elsewhere. Here, it was an also-ran. Not that there was anything wrong with it. The lobster was perfectly cooked, and the mild lobster flavors were as intense as any I've eaten. The sauce was a very tasty vermouth and lobster stock reduction. But the food clashed terribly with the Savenierres (probably the sweetness of the lobster meat), and hey, this is the French Laundry--the competition was intense. And it's probably a credit to Keller that the dish was overshadowed by one of its own ingredients. The fennel chip, the fennel chip--we couldn't stop talking about the fennel chip. A razor-thin slice of dried fennel plant: it was visual, textural, and gastronomic perfection. If we could have arranged a big bowl of them in the center of the table, we would have fought each other over who was eating more of them. Luckily, the next dish more than made up for any disappointment. It was rabbit: "'Un paquet de rillettes de lapin,' French green lentils and applewood smoked bacon 'lardons.'" I loved this dish while eating it, and the more I considered it over the next few days the more it impressed me. I buy rillettes in France all the time; it's perfect picnic food. (Rillettes is meat, usually pork but also rabbit, goose, poultry, fish, etc., that is slowly cooked in seasoned fat and then pounded or pulverized--along with some of the fat--into a paste. It’s delicious.) But to heat it up and serve it with that sauce...wow! One definition of brilliance is to do something that is obvious to everyone else once you do it, but that no one else thought about doing before. It was smoky, slightly chewy, robust but not gigantic, earthy--delicious in every way. It was a perfect dish to match our fourth wine: 2000 Allemand Cornas "Chaillot." Course number nine was meat with a capital "M." The menu said: "Snake River Farms 'calotte de boeuf grille,' forest mushrooms 'duxelles,' La Ratte potato 'fondant' and 'buerre colbert,'" but to us it was meat and potatoes. Actually, that's not fair. It was a perfectly fine course, but it paled in comparison to what we had just eaten. The beef was cooked rare and tender. The duxelles were delicious. The tater tots--forget "fondant"; they were tater tots--were fine. This course was probably included for the people who expect meat and potatoes. But we did order a Burgundy, so we should have expected beef. But we didn’t get the Burgundy we ordered. We agreed on the 2000 Roty Charmes Chambertin "Tres Vieilles Vignes," but a few courses earlier we had been told that it was not available. Out came the wine lists. Even though we were able to restrict the discussion to the five pages of Burgundies, it took a while to pick a replacement. The sommelier was very helpful and knowledgeable, and did a great job in helping us choose. But it was just wrong. The whole point of selecting wines beforehand was so they would be available when we arrived. If the bottle wasn't available when we selected the wines, why weren't we told that when we selected it? (Three of our other first choices were not available; we learned that via e-mail and were able to pick others.) If it was available back then, why wasn't it held for us? And if there was no guarantee that our selections would be held, why did they make a meal to suit the wines? It just didn't make sense. In any case, we ended up with a 1990 Camille Giroud Volnay "Santenots." It was okay, and a fine complement to the beef, but some of us were looking forward to the wine we ordered. After the beef we began the long and winding road towards dessert. Cheese first. The dining room is too small to have a cheese cart; there just isn't room to maneuver. And Keller prefers prepared cheese dishes to a selection of cheeses. For us he made a "'Herbiette,' roasted sweet pepper 'crostini,' nicoise olives and basic-infused extra virgin olive oil." Honestly, it wasn't much. One cheese, and not a very interesting one at that. A nice enough crostini, I'll admit. Hardly a cheese course, really. And totally unmemorable. Next came the most confusing dish of the night. On our menu: "Frog Hollow peach sorbet with Cream of Wheat pudding 'cake.'" First of all, how can you possibly have peach and frog in the same culinary-related sentence without bringing to mind Peter Cook and Dudley Moore? And second, it was just a dollop of sorbet on top of the pudding cake. The sorbet was good enough, but the table was divided over whether the Cream of Wheat helped or hurt the dish. Some thought it matched well, others thought the blend was a complete and total disaster. The best I can say is that the sorbet was really good. Chocolate followed: "'Delice au chocolat' with passion fruit 'coulis,' chocolate 'dentelle' and yogurt 'foam.'" This was better than the peach, but it was nothing more than a solidly executed chocolate dessert. Where's the brilliance? Where's the inspiration? Who's the pastry chef, anyway? Maybe we were too jaded at that point. Maybe we should have ordered one or two dessert wines. Maybe it was after 11:00 PM and we were just tired. We were certainly full. When the "Mignardises" (a fancy name for petit-fours) came around, it was hard to take more than a couple of bites. And the bites varied: absolutely delicious coffee-toffee-mocha flavored macaroons, excellent chocolate-hazelnut candies, good chocolate velour tartlette, dry mini chocolate-chip scone. There were more, but I just couldn’t try everything. After taking our coffee order, the kitchen brought us another course not on the menu: a choice of a small creme brulee or pistachio pot au creme. Both were delicious. Of course we swapped around so that everyone got to taste everything. The creme brulee was intensely flavored and exactly what you expect a creme brulee to be. The pistachio was also rich and intense, a perfect rendition of pistachio flavor in cream form. Coffee and tea came for those who wished, and we were done. Well, almost done. We asked for a kitchen tour and they gave us one, four at a time. I've toured a lot of high-end kitchens over the years, and that one was--by far--the smallest I'd ever seen. I'd like to sit somewhere out of the way and watch them cook dinner someday. It was a wonderful meal. Service--as expected--was excellent, but not perfect. The captain was great. He paced the meal well. He interacted with us pleasantly. He correctly gauged the timbre of our group and matched it. I only have four service complaints. One, that weird contretemps with the Burgundy. Two, the waitstaff lapsed in keeping our water glasses full towards the end of the meal. Three, they got confused over who ordered what coffee or tea. And four, the captain opened a second bottle of champagne for us without asking. I dislike it when restaurants try to push wine. But he didn't try doing it a second time. But these matters were small compared to the meal. We had a delightful time. The restaurant was a beautiful little jewel. The grounds were serene. We enjoyed standing on the balcony between courses, looking at the gardens. The ingredients were beyond reproach. The presentations were excellent. The level of creativity was, with a couple of exceptions, excellent as well. Same with the service. The cost...well, there is that. Everything included, the cost was $334 per person. And that's something that can't be ignored. The French Laundry was not the most expensive meal I've had--Michelin three-stars in Paris have cost more, as did Ginza Sushi-Ko in Beverly Hills--but it was certainly up there. On the other hand, while I am not the sort of person that ranks experiences, the meal was certainly one of the best I've ever eaten. To me, the only financial question you can really ask about this absurdly priced meal is whether or not it was worth it. It was. No question. I'd go back in a heartbeat.

(This was written by my wife, Karen Cooper, and myself.) It’s a neat trick, but this restaurant manages to feel both lively and intimate. Diners are everywhere, and servers are constantly on the move, going from this table to that to make sure things are perfect. But the numerous rooms and alcoves—we sat at a table in a hallway—dampen the noise and make the otherwise crowded restaurant seem cozy instead. The warm tones on the walls and the interesting art and sculptures also help create the mood. There are large windows, opening the restaurant up in the daylight. We counted five different seating areas. There’s a bar in the front, kitchen counters (you can order off the menu and watch the kitchen prepare it), booths, a row of tables for two and a room of tables in the back, and an outdoor seating area that wasn’t being used when we were there. Wildwood specializes in local cooking. Chef-owner Cory Schreiber uses locally grown and organic ingredients wherever possible. He changes his menu daily to take advantage of whatever is fresh at the time. It isn’t a large menu—maybe ten starters and eight entrées—but all the dishes are sophisticated and interesting. Here’s what we had. To start, Dungeness crab and potato cake and roasted tomato soup. The former was a single large crab cake on an apple and celery root salad, garnished with toasted almonds and a citrus vinaigrette. Delicious. The soup was served hot, and garnished with chives and pecorino croutons. Also delicious. For an entrée Karen had the wood roasted Washington chicken (they have a wood oven in the kitchen, and use it for all sorts of interesting dishes), served with portobello mushrooms and a sweet corn pudding. Bruce had the mesquite roasted Brownsville lamb. It was tender and juicy, served with wine-poached plums and a potato-leek puree. The plums were a surprise, adding a tangy taste to the meal without being mushy. There were lots of other things we didn’t try. Any pizza out of that wood-burning oven is worth eating, like the pizza with fresh chanterelle mushrooms, herbs, and cheese. The local salmon is delicious. The Washington mussels are, too. Wildwood’s desserts are superb, things like chocolate cream pie with bananas Foster sauce and toasted cashews. Just typing it makes us want to fly back to Portland immediately. Wildwood is a culinary jewel of Portland. Chef Cory Schreiber won the 1998 James Beard award for Northwest chef of the year. In 2000, he published a cookbook: Wildwood: Cooking from the Source in the Pacific Northwest. This restaurant is one of the reasons we like to visit Portland.

It was four of us for lunch. Two out-of-town friends who had never eaten there before, one local, and out-of-town me. Short summary: good, but I've had way better meals here. "Slanted Door spring rolls with shrimp, pork, mint and peanut sauce." Okay. Nothing special. "Green papaya salad with rau ram and roasted peanuts." Okay. "Shaking beef: cubed Meye Ranch filet mignon with organic red spring onions." I normally don't order this much anymore, but we were with two newbies and this is one of their signature dishes. I've had it better. It didn't explode like I expected it to; it was less spicy. "Spicy catfish claypot with cilantro, ginger and thai chilies." This was a terrific dish. My notes say "slick unctuousness," which sums it up pretty well. "Lemongrass tofu with shiitake mushrooms, pressed tofu and chili sauce." Another well made dish. Well balanced, good bite. Yum. "Sweet white corn with golden chantertelle mushrooms." Light, balanced, delicious. This was my first visit in their new location on Embarcadero (although they're moving again soon). I liked it. For one thing, it was much easier to park. Bruce

It's sold out. In order to get in, I had to agree that my wife and I were willing to sit at a four-top with another random couple. That's another reason I asked if anyone here is going. I'd rather sit with someone who is a net foodie. (And thank you to the person who moved my post under this thread. I didn't notice it until after I posted, and then I couldn't figure out how to delete my own post. Surely there's a way....) Bruce

The only Seattle wedding reception I've been to was a Chinese banquet. Delicious food, but probably not the sort of thing you're looking for. Bruce

Cafe du Monde for breakfast. Casamento's, and order an oyster loaf (it's a sandwich) for lunch. Eddie's (on Law Street) for dinner. It's a great food town. Have fun. Bruce

Yeah, that's about my experience too. A related tip: don't even go within a block of the Old Spaghetti Factory. Bruce

Yeah, good place. It's a quick walk, though -- enter at the corner of Ohio and Rush. Thanks. It's been a few years since I've lived there, and my mental geography has been getting distorted. Bruce

I think he's making some of the most interesting food in the United States today. (Although subsisting entirely on Trio food would not be financially feasible for all but a few.) Bruce Be one of the few, the proud. I'm ready. Sometimes I dream of living upstairs and ordering takeout from him. Bruce

Just came back from a conference in Aspen. My one dinner was the tasting menu at Syzygy. Corn Chowder: Rock Shrimp, Truffle Foam, Lobster Roe, Chive Oil Oven Roasted Pork Belly: Belgian Endive, Pears, Caraway Vinaigrette, Vidalia Onions, Toasted Pecans, Fresh Horseradish Cumin Marinated Ek Tenderloin: Salsa Verde, Sweet Corn tamales, Avacadoes, Toasted Chipolte Oil Australian Blue Cheese: Sundried Cherries, Toasted Nuts Warm Brownie Sundae: Caramel, Hot Fudge, Vanilla Gelato The first two courses were the best. The pork belly was really a salad course, with the pork laid on top. Absolutely delicious. The soup was even better; the flavors--there was a dallop of cream on top--blended beautifully. The elk was the most disappointment, mostly beause it was a slab of meat without much to make it interesting. The blue cheese was delicious, and the dessert was just fine. I ordered the wine pairing too, which was a disappointment. The waiter promised that someone would come over to talk to me about preferences, but no one did and they kept bringing things I didn't like very much. But it was a delicious meal, and I would gladly go back. Bruce

Geeks 'n freaks. Sign me up. Bruce

Wow, With comments like these, I don't even want to go. I get to DC far too infrequently, and there are many restaurants there I know the food will be great. Bruce

It's always the same problem with restaurant reader polls: readers aren't necessarily foodies, nor to they eat out enough to make critical assessments every year. Kikead's? The Cheesecake Factory? Geez. Bruce

I found this on Chowhound. Anyone going? "This is a benefit for the James Beard Foundation but will feature among the greatest line ups of Washington chefs ever assembled with a course prepared by each: Jose Andres (Cafe Atlantico, Zaytinya), Jeffrey Buben (Vidalia), Roberto Donna (Galileo, Laboratorio), Bob Kinkead (Kinkead's), Patrick O'Connell (Inn at Little Washington), Michel Richard (Citronelle) and Fabio Trabocchi (Maestro). The dinner includes wines paired with each of the many courses. Seating is limited. Unfortunately this is neither an inexpensive nor a calorie conscious event for what must be at least seven courses. I also do not know if it is tax deductible since it benefits the Foundation. It is $300 per person inclusive and seating is limited. Anyone wanting to experience one of the greatest events of its kind yet assembled in the D. C. area should call Emanuele Fissore at Maestro, 703-821-1515." I made my reservation as soon as I heard the news. Bruce

The Inn at Little Washington should be #1 on your list, but it only counts as "in the DC area" if you're flying in. Little Washington, VA is a long drive. Closer to home, I vote for Laboratorio as #3. Bruce

Heaven on Seven, at 600 N. Michigan Ave. I think it's a quick cab ride away, but it is definitely worth the small bit of trouble. You'll have a great Cajun meal at a reasonable price. Bruce

I think he's making some of the most interesting food in the United States today. (Although subsisting entirely on Trio food would not be financially feasible for all but a few.) Bruce

Basically: Excellent meal, very good service (four glitches that I noticed). Some of the dishes were inspired, and the rest were very good executions of what they were. Definitely worth the money, but not the blow-your-socks-off best meal that I've ever had. Bruce

Two nights ago I ate at the French Laundry. A review will follow in a few days, but the news I learned is that the closing has been delayed. FL will remain open through the year, and will close for a few months in the beginning of 2004. The reason is construction delays in the AOL Building in New York. During the closing, many of the staff will be in New York training the staff there. Others will do stages at other restaurants around the world. They don't expect to lose anyone when they reopen. And, of course, this could be delayed even further if there are further construction delays. Bruce