oakapple

Only some of them. My friend and I were there on Sunday night, and the risottos were still $50-60 each (same price as on weekdays). However, they had a Sunday-only four-course tasting menu for $49, which looked like an excellent way to sample the cuisine. However, we opted for the ten-course tasting ($120), which was very good, albeit with a few less-than-stellar courses. Sorry I don't have time for a full write-up at the moment!

I at at Mercer Kitchen a year or two ago, and I was underwhelmed. Today's rating of zero stars felt about right, although I expected one. I had the tasting menu at Vong last December. I thought it was very good, but perhaps it had slipped a little since Bryan Miller awarded three stars. Various asides from Bruni have left the impression that if he were reviewing JoJo or Spice Market today, they wouldn't get the three stars earlier critics awarded. I've eaten at JoJo twice and haven't been impressed either time. I haven't tried Spice Market, except for drinks. Perry St, I think, has already started to slide, based on various comments on eGullet and elsewhere. My second meal there was nowhere near as stellar as the first, and they still haven't fixed bread rolls that are harder than hockey pucks. Curiously, the only JGV outlet that hasn't disappointed me yet is 66, and I've been there three or four times. I haven't been to Jean Georges, but everyone agrees that's the one place he's keeping an eye on. After V Steakhouse was one-starred, Vongerichten said, "I don't do one-star restaurants." Well, he does them now. We'll see if today's reviews are the wake-up call.

Per Eater, Frank Bruni reviews Blue Hill in tomorrow's New York Times. Eater is taking the odds on three stars, which I agree is the most likely possibility. William Grimes gave the restaurant two stars in 2000, and it would be hard to justify a re-review unless Bruni believes an upgrade is in order. Based on the restaurant's reputation and the three stars Bruni awarded Blue Hill at Stone Barns a couple of years ago, a downgrade seems highly unlikely.

I suppose it could be described in other ways. The "penalty/reward" metaphor is simply one way of explaining the de facto system as it has been for many years. For some restaurants, a two-star review is like winning the lottery ("reward"), and for others, it's represents a failure ("penalty"). I'm certainly not the first to have noticed this. Oh, I totally agree that Bruni is predictable. In that sense, he is certainly better than someone who has no compass at all. But his consistency doesn't mean that we're living in an era of great food criticism at the Times.

In a post yesterday, Eater opines: Beyond the fact that Le Cirque and Little Owl are both two stars, seven of Bruni's last ten reviews have been two stars. If Tom Colicchio knew how to broil a steak, it could have been eight out of ten. I think it has always been true—as Leonard Kim likes to point out—that the Times reviewing system is really two systems superimposed on one another. The systems seem to collide at two stars, which is the "penalty rating" for fancy restaurants that are under-performing, and the "bonus rating" for neighborhood restaurants that are especially good. But Bruni has exacerbated the problem by being rather stingy at the three- and four-star levels, and rather generous at the two-star level. The upshot is that, whereas his one, three, and four-star ratings are relatively coherent, his two-star ratings are not. One wonders whether Eater's provocative (but entirely justified) critique will cost him his inside information. Every week, Eater seems to know which restaurant Frank is reviewing next, and quite amusingly posts the rating odds the night before.

On a recent celebratory occasion, my friend and I chose Chanterelle. Though I've dined there a couple of times in the past, I'd forgotten this restaurant's quiet, refined atmosphere. With its widely spaced tables, its luminous chiffon shades, and high chandeliers, Chanterelle offers an elegant escape. On a Sunday evening, it was never more than half full. It was delightful to note that we could speak barely above a whisper, and have no trouble hearing each other. Chanterelle offers a three-course prix fixe at $95 or a tasting menu (which we had) at $125. Both are written in an extravagant longhand on one of the famous artistic menus, which change about monthly. Although Chanterelle may seem old-fashioned, it is one of the few restaurants at its level that keeps its website up-to-date with the latest menu, which was as follows: Green Gazpacho with Chesapeake Bay Crabmeat & Black Caviar Foie Gras Sauté with Pickled Farm Peaches & Baby Lettuce Sautéed Speckled Sea Trout with Sorrel, Tomato, Mussel Broth Niman Ranch Beef filet with Sweet Onions and Cracked black Peppers Cheese Course Vermont Goat Cheese and Purple basil Soufflé with Tuscan Melon Sorbet Petits Fours, Coffee/Tea We started with a double amuse bouch, a warm gougère and an oyster on a spoon. The gazpacho was (to borrow the cliché) so thick you could almost eat it with a fork. The foie gras was heavenly, and I loved the crisp sea trout. The beef filet was the one and only dud; it tasted like pot roast, except that pot roast would probably be better. The cheese course made up for it. A server brought a cheese tray to the table and patiently explained more than a dozen choices, of which I had five—all superb. A cheese course never looks like much food, but by the time you're finished you feel stuffed. (On the prix fixe menu, the cheese course is a $25 add-on, which makes the tasting menu look like an even better deal.) I've been to only two other restaurants in the city (Per Se and Alain Ducasse) that make a point of presenting two contrasting butters, with the server explaining the characteristics of each. I particularly liked the unsalted butter, which I believe came from Vermont (the other was from France). Bread rolls were served warm, but I would have liked a choice of breads, to go along with the choice of butters. Chanterelle's renowned wine list is a tome that looks like a telephone directory. I believe $55 was the least expensive bottle that I noted, and most were well over $80. I settled on a $95 bordeaux, which was near the bottom of the list, but was nevertheless superb. The staff decanted it without prompting, a service few restaurants offer any more. The restaurant takes a team approach to service. I had noticed this the last time I was here and wondered if it was an anomaly, but they did it again. Every server seems to perform every function, and no particular server seems to be assigned specifically to your table. On my last visit, this arrangement led to some minor glitches (e.g., being asked twice whether we wanted bottled or tap water), but this time it was seamless. Service, indeed, is first-class, but without the stuffiness of some high-end places. There is the occasional mistake (a roll dropped on the floor; a spoon forgotten), but it hardly detracts from a delightful evening. Unlike the tasting menu at Bouley, which I had just a couple of weeks ago, this performance was leisurely (taking nearly three hours), and never seemed hurried. If the overall performance is a step shy of extraordinary, Chanterelle is nevertheless one of New York's restaurant treasures.

This thread has been quiet lately. It could be because Bruni has become unobjectionable. Or it could be that all of the objections have been stated, and people have gotten tired of repeating them. Over on the Craftsteak thread, there have been a few comments that are really meta-reviewing observations, and not specific to that restaurant. A sample of the comments: My own views are pretty close to Sneakeater's — although I do think the star ratings mean something. Like many people, I think that Bruni has been totally unprincipled in his two-star ratings. (This has been a particular pet peeve over at Eater.) Bruni has been unduly punitive against restaurants like The Modern and Gilt, while giving out two stars like candy to some highly unremarkable low-end places. His zero, one, three, and four-star awards, in contrast, all make sense. As a food writer, I think that Bruni has improved considerably. His reviews generally are are about what they should be — the food, and other factors that affect the dining experience, like service. Reviews with long diversions into irrelevant factors are fairly uncommon now. But I agree with Sneakeater that he doesn't write with the technical skill that the better food critics have.

I didn't rush to go there right after it opened, but on three occasions this year I've gotten reservations quite easily. It isn't hard to get into Perry St.

Bruni's complaint clearly pertained to all of the steaks, not just thick rib steaks.

I posted about this about a year ago. The web presence of the whole Jean-Georges empire is considerably inferior to other restaurants in the same class. When I originally mentioned this, some people suggested that perhaps websites don't make a difference, or aren't worth the expense. As I use the web for most of my research, websites certainly make a difference to me. But I don't know how many people there are use the web for researching restaurants like I do.

Aside from the gratuitous reference to gay cattle, I thought the review was right on the money.

Perry Street seems to have fallen off the eGullet radar — it has had no reports here since my visit in February. I went again last night. It was a very light crowd, with much of the clientele probably being out of town for the July 4 holiday. We found the seating pattern mysterious. Twice, the host seated a couple at the table right next to us, despite acres of free two-tops elsewhere in the restaurant. (The first time, the couple objected, and were moved.) My friend and I ordered identically: the homemade fried mozzarella to start ($12), followed by the herb-crusted rack of lamb ($36). Both were excellent, and indeed I broke my usual rule, and had dessert. It was a coconut/caramel/banana mix with whipped cream on top, which is a can't miss combination in my book. Like last time, the bread rolls were so hard they could be used as doorstops. As before, the menu is brief, with about 7-8 appetizers and an equal number of entrees listed. Although we both chose the expensive lamb entree, there are plenty of choices in the $20-30 range. For the quality, Perry Street is reasonably priced.

My friend and I had dinner at db bistro moderne a couple of Saturdays ago. The restaurant caters heavily to a pre-theatre crowd — and I must say that it's a far higher-class dining experience than most Theater District restaurants can offer. We arrived at 7:30 to a busy, bustling room. By 7:45, it was practically deserted. A few more diners came in later, but clearly their busiest hours were behind them. No one seems to have told the serving staff that a couple who arrive at 7:30 probably aren't going to the theater. The appetizers couldn't have taken more than five minutes, and the entrees came out pretty fast too. In all, we didn't spend more than about an hour at db, and that included the time we spent lingering over our bottle of wine at the end. Although the staff didn't suggest that they were eager for us to leave, it seems the kitchen is geared up for turning out food in a hurry, and they don't change their rhythm after the theater crowd has departed. The food, however, was wonderful. I had a great tuna tartare followed by duck confit. My friend had duck pâté followed by coq au vin. All four dishes were prepared in classic style and were flawless. If there was nothing particularly imaginative, there is much to be said for executing old favorites to near perfection. The wine list mentioned that the sommelier was highlighting syrah and granache this month, so we tried one of the recommendations in that category, and were pleased we did. The bread service was underwhelming, and not up to the level of the rest of the food.

Quality Meats joins the sub-genre of luxury steakhouses, a niche occupied by itself, BLT Steak, BLT Prime, and Craftsteak. Characteristic of the category, the decor is significantly more upscale and chick-friendly than the typical steakhouse, the wine list more serious, the side dishes more carefully thought out, and the prices are several dollars more per entree than the already expensive standard set by NYC steakhouses. My friend and I gave Quality Meats a try last night. We found it superior to Craftsteak, although with a few reservations. The restaurant offers a 64 oz. double bone-in rib steak for $110. We're both fans of the ribeye, so we gave it a try. This was enormous, sliced tableside, with more of a "prime rib" taste than usual for a solo ribeye steak. We asked for a preparation between medium and medium rare, which the kitchen executed perfectly. We brought the leftovers home. The amuse bouche was a deviled egg, which struck us as unusual, but the kitchen did a fine job with it. They also sent out freshly baked dinner rolls, which were sinfully good. For appetizers, my friend had a salad, while I ordered the bone marrow ($9), which was excellent. While we awaited our steak, a server came over and prepared home-made steak sauce tableside. For side dishes, we ordered the crispy potatoes ($7), which came in a hot pan, over which garlic butter was poured at the table. The effect was of upscale potato chips. An order of grilled asparagus ($8) was wonderful. To go along with this, I found a very reasonable pinot noir. The total for two, before tip, was $215, which for a meal of this quality in New York was quite reasonable. If the story ended there, I'd give Quality Meats a solid three stars. But there were a number of glitches with the service. When we asked for the double ribeye, we initially did not want appetizers, as we knew we were in for something huge. Our server warned us that the ribeye would take 90 minute to prepare, and asked if we wanted to reconsider the appetizers. We were baffled as to how a steak could take 90 minutes, but we took her word for it and ordered appetizers. In the meantime, our steak appeared 35–40 minutes later. We would also like to have been told that the steak came with about a pound of mushrooms and glazed onions, in which case we wouldn't have ordered two side dishes on top of that. Lastly, we were subjected to unctuous upselling at dessert time. We were full at that point, but the server tried to break our resistance: "Are you sure you don't want any dessert? Perhaps an ice cream to share?" On an already expensive bill, this bordered on offensive. We held our ground, but it was annoying nonetheless. For a restaurant of this size, the noise level was manageable. The AvroKO décor is spectacular, but the tables are small and close together. Indeed, there was not room on our table for everything we had ordered, and our server had to commandeer the next table over, which fortunately was not yet occupied. I don't know what they would have done had it been a full house.

Today's New York Times review is a duo: Degustation (**) and Jewel Bako (*): As far as I can tell, Jewel Bako has never before had a rated review in the Times (although it has been open since 2001), but Bruni's single star strongly suggests that, in his opinion, the restaurant's best days are behind it.

I haven't been to Pegu Club yet. Is it a place to go with someone where you actually want to carry on a conversation? Or, is it all "scene"?

I wonder if Gray Kunz — in his heart of hearts — realizes that they missed the mark? If he does, it would be an awfully tough burden to carry. He's got to continue projecting confidence to the staff, while knowing that the restaurant's fundamental problems are not related to the food, and not fixable in the short term. On the other hand, it would be human nature not to acknowledge such problems (even to one's self), and instead to rationalize that the critics just don't get it.

A friend and I spent the long weekend in Montreal. That gave us two dinners to splurge on. We chose Au Pied de Cochon (reviewed in a separate post) and Toqué, which seems to be the dean of Montreal's fine dining restaurants. We hadn't reserved in advance, and our hotel concierge was skeptical of our chances on a Saturday night at short notice. However, he managed to secure a 9:30pm reservation, which was just fine for us. We chose chef Normand Laprise's seven-course degustation menu ($88). The printed menu doesn't tell you what you'll be getting — it's "an elaborate mystery menu of seven inspired courses." To the best of my recollection, this is what we had: Amuse bouche of cold tomato soup with a cucumber foam, and a crisp mozzarella stick with a chive running up its spine. Scallop with strawberry foam. This was the one unsuccessful dish, as the strawberry foam totally overwhelmed the scallop. My friend, who doesn't eat scallops, was given a seafood ceviche instead, which she enjoyed. Tuna tartare on a tortilla, with an avocado puree. This combination of tastes was the second most successful course, after the bass (see below) Grilled striped bass, which my friend and I considered the most successful course Pork belly, served in a sealed glass jar. This presentation was amusing, but frankly the taste of the pork was completely forgettable. Duck breast in a mild pepper sauce, which we noted was an ample sized portion for a tasting menu Goat cheese sorbet, which was excellent Dessert, which I have entirely forgotten I apologize for the Spartan descriptions, but that's about as much as I remember after a long and exhausting day. Service was terrific. The restaurant has a strange affectation of laying all the silverware at a 45-degree angle to the diner, and laying knives on their edge. It presents no inconvenience, and it is even a bit witty, but we wondered about the point of it. The restaurant is enormous and well appointed. Tables are both large and very generously spaced. This was a very strong degustation menu, and for the $88 price a very compelling dining choice for the visitor to Montreal.

My friend and I spent last weekend in Montreal—the first visit for either of us. Au Pied de Cochon was tops on our list of restaurants to try. We were totally delinquent in making reservations, so we were pleased that our hotel concierge was able to book Au Pied do Cochon at 9pm on the night of our arrival (Friday), and Toqué at 9:30pm the following evening. In New York, we probably wouldn't have had such luck. Perhaps a better name for the restaurant would be Au Pied de Cochon et Canard, because the signature ingredient is foie gras. A whole section of the menu is dedicated to foie gras, and it figures in many other dishes as well. Several of the foie gras selections are clearly meant to be humorous riffs on popular comfort food normally served without it, such as foie gras poutine, foie gras grilled cheese, and foie gras hamburger. (A recent article in Gourmet said that Au Pied de Cochon goes through 300 pounds of foie gras per week.) Poutine is a popular fast food dish (even McDonald's has a version of it), consisting of french fries, cheese curd, and gravy. Foie gras poutine, naturally, is the same thing, but with a huge hunk of seared foie gras as the centrepiece, and a hint of foie gras in the gravy. We thought it was terrific. Many of the dishes have cryptic names, of which the most humorous is "duck in a can." There is no explanation on the menu, but our server explained that it's duck breast and foie gras cooked inside a can. We didn't order this, but we saw a serving of it delivered to another table. Sure enough, the server brings a medium-sized soup can to the table, opens it with a conventional can opener, and then pours the meal onto the diner's plate. Who would think of such a thing? During the summer, the menu skews towards seafood. We saw massive raw bar platters being delivered to the tables, priced anywhere betwen $45 and $320. Pork, lamb, and venison also remain fixtures on the menu. (Au pied de Cochon's steak frites is made with venison all year long.) We ordered the pied de cochon foie gras, which again would be obscure if the server didn't explain that it's a whole shank of pig's foot with foie gras, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. It was indescribably good, and the kind of dish you're not going to find anywhere else. Portion sizes were enormous—not just the things we ordered, but also the servings we saw delivered to other tables. Our server kindly advised that one order of poutine foie gras and one order of pied de cochon foie gras would be ample for two people, as this wouldn't have been apparent from the menu. That pied de cochon was $48, but when served for two it is a bargain. The apple pie was the only thing we ordered that was listed as a portion for two on the menu. Naturally, it was big enough for three. It came freshly baked, and was about the best apple pie I've ever tasted in a restaurant. The chef, Martin Picard, has made a reputation with his button-down shirts (never tucked in), wild hair, and three-day-old beard. While we were there, he was all over the place — cooking some of the food, drinking beer and wine, and chatting up the customers. He said "Bon soir" to us as we left. The space is informal, with tables fairly close together. The restaurant is only about 20 feet wide (although it is fairly deep). To get to the men's room, you actually have to pass through the open kitchen. However, service was friendly and attentive. Our server recommended a superb wine at about $48 that went perfectly with our foie gras festival of a meal.

Surely that was not $150 (or even suggested $210) per person or was it, and if so, how many people? ← Yes, those were prices of the wine pairing per person.

My friend and I had a terrific meal at the Aquavit Cafe in April (report upthread), so we were tempted to try the main dining room. Our dinner there last Friday was peculiarly underwhelming. We had the three-course prix fixe ($80). My friend started with the Herring Sampler, which came with a glass of beer and a shot of what must have been 100-proof potato vodka. I had a foie gras starter, but the accompanying strips of bacon stole the show. For the main course, my friend had the bacon wrapped New York strip, and again, she found that the bacon stole the show. Spice rubbed venison loin came in a peculiar apple-pine broth that turned the dish into a swimming pool. I found the dessert choices underwhelming, and settled on a selection of three scoops of ice cream. Aquavit is, of course, capable of great things, but on this occasion we weren't wowed. My friend, who has spent a lot of time in Sweden, found the space sterile.

A friend of mine absolutely swears by Woo Lae Oak, and at her suggestion we gave it a try last night. The space is large, the vibe dark and sexy, the tables generously spaced. Though there were just two of us, we were seated at a four-top, with partitions separating our table from those on either side of ours. It almost felt like a semi-private room. She steered us clear of the appetizers, based on past experience. There are some 17 barbecue choices, priced $18–39m if which we selected two: black tiger prawns and sliced beef rib eye (both $24). Cook-it-yourself food is always plenty of fun. We were particularly impressed with the rib eye's intense flavor. She selected a rice dish, Dol Sot Bi Bim Bap (steamed rice with vegetables in a hot stone bowl) ($18), again based on past experience, which was a spicy delight. Dinner also comes with a salad and garnishes, and with the two barbecue dishes this probably would have been enough. But we also ordered the black cod and daikon radish in a spicy, sweet garlic soy sauce ($28), which was superb, ranking right up there with Nobu's famous preparation. I would run back to Woo Lae Oak for this dish alone. We didn't drink alcohol. Dinner for two was $102 including tax, before tip. I don't believe I've tried Korean Barbecue anywhere else, so I can't make comparisons, but Woo Lae Oak was plenty of fun, and we were quite happy with our meal.

Yes, and indeed any price quoted at Per Se will include gratuity. Bear in mind that the sky's the limit on wine pairings, just as it is with individual bottles. The question is what's the lowest price at which they can do it. Given the way they kvetched before agreeing to do it at $150, I would guess that a $100 pairing is out of the question, unless you tell them to give you fewer pours (i.e., not to pair every course). Bearing in mind that service is included, a $100 pairing at Per Se is equivalent to $83 at any other restuarant. In relation to the overall price level of the restaurant, that's probably too low to expect a full wine pairing.As a point of comparison, at Aquavit (where I dined last Friday), the chef's tasting menu is $105, and the wine pairing is $80. So, to expect Per Se to do it for practically the identical price, when the food is double the price, is probably not realistic.

I had a recent experience with this. Our server did everything he could to bungle it, but eventually the sommelier redeemed him. I asked, "What is the cost of a wine pairing?"The server replied, "We offer wine pairings for the same price as the menu." In other words, $210. I knew this was ridiculous. When Per Se first opened, they would do wine pairings starting at $100. That was before service was included, but if Alain Ducasse could do a wine pairing at $140 (as they did in January), surely Per Se can't insist that $210 is the minimum. Anyhow, I said to the server, "We were thinking of something in the range of $150." He replied with an evident sneer, "Hmmm....perhaps a couple of half-bottles?" I asked to speak to the sommelier, who promptly rescued the situation. He said, "I can do it in your price range, as long as you'll allow me to go anywhere I want." Fact is, we would have expected him to do that anyway, so we agreed. We ended up with a superb wine pairing at $150. Over the course of our nine-course tasting menu, we must have had six or seven pours. It included quite a bit of funky stuff that you'd never order on your own (e.g., a Hungarian sauterne, which was my friend's favorite). But that's the whole point of a wine pairing, isn't it? To make a long story short, you should be able to get a wine pairing at $150, as long as you give the sommelier some flexibility. You'll still get wonderful wines at that price.

I colleague and I visited Pastis the other night. It was his idea. Mind you, I have nothing against the place, but I've seen the long lines plenty of times, and I doubted that it would be worth braving the crowds. However, he made a 7pm reservation, and at that hour the restaurant was only just beginning to fill up. My colleague mentioned that Pastis seems to be one of thos iconic New York restaurants where you're supposed to see celebrities—or that's the theory, anyway. We didn't spy anyone famous. He mentioned that he's watched Sex and the City only four times, and twice the characters dined at Pastis. Well, what about the food? Frankly, we didn't get what all the fuss is about. I had a mediocre steak tartare and a decent grilled sea bass. A not unhappy experience, but certainly nothing to justify the restaurant's reputation. Tables are both small and uncomfortably close together, the noise level is loud, and menus double as placemats. At least the prices are reasonable. You won't eat badly at Pastis, but we could hardly see what all the fuss is about.