ulterior epicure

Sorry, what I didn't say is that I'm getting in a day ahead of business and will be taking advantage of the extra time to (hopefully) travel to Bray.

I'm not sure why I would choke either. I was warning those on this thread who might.

Well, and then there's that too: Guy Savoy. My college roomie's family (whom I'm ostensibly bopping about with) are long time friends with Savoy and his family. Apparently, they started eating with and under Savoy when Savoy was but a glimmer in the Michelin constellation. I've been offered a dinner there by my roomie, whom I'm guessing could set up something pretty fun. But, given all the negative chatter about GS, I wonder if it's worth it... especially on the Euro. I've heard that Guy Savoy Las Vegas is better (and less expensive).

It kinda goes like this: One of my biggest regrets is having never dined at Lespinasse under Gray Kunz. I could have. I didn't. Another big regret was never having dined at ADNY. I could have. I didn't. Why? Because, at the time, neither seemed to grab my gut. Now, people wax poetic about both (although there were detractors during the time of their existence). Looking back, I should have just eaten there just for the sake of having had the experience. Will L'Arpege be next in line for u.e.'s biggest regrets? Again, like I said above, sometimes, eating out isn't entirely for the pleasure of the food (as much as I hate to say it), sometimes, it's just for the sake of being at a particular place at a particular time. And for what it's worth, I'm a true believer that even disappointing meals have their place and import BTW: Add Violons d'Ingres to my list of considerations. And, I suppose I should stick L'Arpege on there as well. Is Alaine Ducasse at the Plaza Athenee THAT much more expensive than L'Arpege? What about Gagnaire?

Alright, as much as I hate to do this, I must enlist the help of this forum. At this point, I am just way too behind the times to know what is of any interest or good in London. I've heard everything from everything to nothing. (Okay, so I lie about the "everything.") My point is, I haven't the foggiest whether any of the "best" restaurants in London are actually worth the Pound for the USD (don't laugh). I'll be in London on business in the middle of December. I'll be spending the subsequent week, and holiday, in Paris. Short of an open solicitation or cattle call, I'll throw out a list of restaurants that have, at one point or another, made it onto my radar in the last few years (I jot them down as they catch my fancy). Most, I suspect, more than not are either passe or not worth the moolah. At this point, I'm honestly thinking of just hitting The Fat Duck (if I can get in) and eating at St. John for the remainder and saving my dough for Paris. Oh, that's one other detail: I'll be shackled by day, but my nights are on my own. Gordon Ramsey at RHR Locanda Locatelli St. John River Cafe The Fat Duck Hibiscus La Gavroche Restaurant Tom Aikens The Capitol Petrus Knowing this list is severely lacking, I'll take on any other suggestions you might have.

Lest anyone choke (put down what ever you're eating/drinking), I'll add Taillevant to that list. Even *I* will admit that, sometimes, the pleasure of dining out isn't ALL about the food. BTW, what ever happened to Les Magnolias and Les Perreux? I was flipping through the old L'Astrance posts and found quite a number of members preferring those two to L'Astrance, circa 2002.

I know what you mean - not specifically in terms of L'Arpege - but in terms of getting feelings about what you personally will tend to like or dislike. I get gut feelings when I read about certain restaurants - whether or not I'll like them (and whether or not my husband will like them - we have somewhat different tastes). And we're talking about a very limited number of restaurants at the very high end in Paris - only 9 Michelin 3 stars. Only 5 Gayot 18/20 (no 19's or 20's). And only 3 that appear on both lists. So there is obviously a lot of room for people to disagree about particular places (not only on the high end - but in other parts of the dining spectrum). In the end - I'll probably go with my gut feelings - and hope they're correct. Here are some of the restaurants that, for whatever nonsensible reason(s), appeal to me: Le Pre Catalan L'Astrance Le Meurice Le Bristol La Regalade Le Repair de Cartouche Le Comptoir Spring Le Cinq (now that it's under Briffard) Ledoyen L'Ambroisie Chez L'Ami Jean Chez L'Ami Louis Ribouldingue Le Baratin I'm really looking for both high and lower end dining. And, clearly, I need help coming up with some lower-end recommendations, which is where, I think, the Zagat actually might come in handy. I know all the big dogs, I need help with the neighborhood gems. Honestly, articles like the ones that Lobrano and Co. wrote for this months Gourmet do more to confuse than cement. I have no clue from those half graph blurbs whether or not it's somewhere I'd want to spend a meal (and some Euros). They all sound about the same, which is good. And, for those on this forum who don't know my tastes, I'm more likely to smile on a plate of brains than some frozen gaseous essence with foam all over it. Oh, but Dieter Muller DOES bring back fond memories for me! Edited for spelling.

Thanks for your vote of confidence! Be sure, there will be reports. You (and I) just might not know exactly under which threads they'll be posted.

Why was your interest waning? Frankly - I am just very confused. I hear a lot about a few high end restaurants. But almost nothing about others. E.g., it's very hard to find any mention of Pre Catelan anywhere (although it was on Gridskipper earlier this year). Robyn ← Coincidentally, because Pre Catalan caught my fancy. Together with L'Astrance, Le Meurice, and Le Bristol, it was the one restaurant that I regret having missed on my last trip to Paris. I just don't think I'm a L'Arpege type of guy. I have an inkling of what I'm basing that off of, but, obviously because I've never been, I'm loathe to attempt articulating it here.

You know, my interest in L'Arpege was waning until this came up. I am a sucker for fine cheese. This almost seals the deal.

What is "cutting edge" these days - and do you like it? Robyn ← I was just about to ask the SAME question.

That's one place I didn't get to visit (and had hoped to). It's also mentioned in the latest Saveur Magazine (Issue 113). By the way, here's my blog entry on my Capogiro experiences last month. As you can see, this team gets a big THANKS, including Katie Loeb, whom I nominate as MVP in my Capogiro write-up.

If I'm not mistaken, these advertisement "bios" are in Gourmet on a regular basis. The funniest thing I read in this month's slate of adverts was David Chang's answer that chicken is his favorite ingredient to cook with. Actually, given that he's more well-known for his pork dishes, I find it more ironic than funny.

To be fair and clear, Lobrano can't take all the blame/credit for that article. The sub-article on the 9eme is by Oliver Schwaner-Albright.

Is that last savory course a choice between milk-fed veal *OR* goat cheese roll? How long has Briffard been at Le Cinq now? My dinner here under Legendre was really simply boring. I'm hoping Briffard gives me a compelling reason to return.

This is key.

The omission of "your" wasn't the error I had in mind. But, I guess the addition of "your" does eliminate one rather disturbing interpretation... You just saved me typing two paragraphs. I could not have composed a better assessment. I met Chef van Wold when I dined at Beluga in 2005. He was mighty fine keen on himself. "Bravado" might be what he and the restaurant are aiming for, but I got much more braggadocio instead. Just as an example, read the commentary I noted here. The food wasn't up to snuff. I was surprised then that it was a 2 star restaurant.

I dined at Beluga (I *believe* it was two star Michelin at the time) in 2005. Somehow, I've remained on their email list (although I'm fairly certain this is the first email I've gotten from them - ever). I just got this in my inbox: Now I can read an itsy bit of Dutch. But I certainly know English when I see it. If the line I bolded in the quote above isn't in English, will someone please kindly translate it for me? I'm wildly curious what it could possibly mean.

I don't think any restaurant is untouchable. I'm fairly certain that if you look back to my post about my experience at Manresa from 2 years ago, I noted service issues. (Here it is, on that "other" Manresa thread.) On that same trip to California - 2 years ago - I also noted a rather depressing experience at TFL. I'm not sure if that falls before or after your marker for when the people thought it was *cool* to speak negatively about the restaurant. And I don't care. I also had a meal at per se that same year, but a few months prior. I reported on that meal too and found it lackluster. I don't find it *cool* to do anything other than give an honest report of how I experienced a meal. That is why, despite getting side dishes of grief sent to me, I have been public about disappointing (or, perhaps, fundamental differences I have with?) meals at the hands of many "untouchables," alinea included, as you (sygyzy) probably know. I'm too lazy to pull up those threads, but if you go over to that thread, you'll find reports from two full "Tours" I did - one in 2005 and one in 2006 - that fell far short of thrill. Most recently, I put out a rather unenthusiastic report about L.20, a restaurant that has been praised by many. And if I haven't stated it publicly elsewhere, I'll state it here: David Chang's food at the momofukus is great, but you're not going to find me in that hour-long line to get into ssam bar or noodle bar. I'm not typing all of the foregoing to give myself a pat on the back for being that edgy blogger who's too hip for whatever. Do I think it's *cool* to be the minority in a sea of gushing fans? No. Actually, I hate it. I *wish* I could experience those restaurants as their most ardent fans do. Wouldn't it be great to have a knock out meal everywhere you go? Or, maybe not, because then you wouldn't appreciate the rarity of the truly spectacular. But I think what *IS* irksome about the reaction of some bloggers/online food writers/members of this and other fora to negative criticism is that they treat the criticism of another's experience as a personal affront to the chef or, worse, to THEMSELVES as third party observers. As if another's negative experience - an event that occurred entirely independently of their (third party's) existence - at a restaurant that they've praised reflects poorly on their sense of judgment or legitimacy as a sensible diner. This is utter nonsense. (Of course, I don't doubt that, *sometimes,* criticisms are intended as a personal affront to certain personnel at a particular restaurant, be it chef or server, manager of sommelier. But most of the time, I find that people here, and elsewhere, are reasonable about their opinions. When they're not, it's usually quite clear and they're easily ignored.) There also forum members who, despite paragraphs of praise, will pick out and focus on the ONE negative remark. Here, I will be the first to step up to the plate and admit guilt. Looking back at your report, there was this: So, I've had Kinch's version of the Arpege egg and the abalone in brown butter and I happy to hear that they're still pleasing diners. Question: was the Potimarron soup cold or hot? How did the ice cream figure into it? Ultimately, I'll bet that a very high percentage (I'm not going to give a figure, but I'll wager it's over 50% and less than 90%) of the differences voiced on these food fora are a matter of personal preference. I don't care for seared foie; I like mine cool and cured. If I see the words "chocolate" and "warm" in the same sentence, I'm likely to yawn. Others might swoon. We all have our own quirks too, so we view and take service differently. I don't like coddling. Some, clearly, do. I'm much more likely to care that a server is encyclopedic about the menu and ingredients than one who tops off my water at a drop of a hat, others might not give two pennies' worth for what the waiter knows as long as they're at the quick-and-ready. Some like short, quick service. I like something between long and short (and here again, what is "long" and what is "short?"). Some put value on being seated in the center of a dining room; I might prefer a quieter corner. Right. And as you can see from your experience, that even word of mouth praise from semi-trusted sources/friends doesn't give you a 100% guarantee for success. In conclusion (yes, my grade school English teacher is cringing out there - Sorry Mrs. Greenbaum) I think tupac17616 put it quite well in the post above: And, as tupac17616 and (I hope) I have demonstrated, even the most enthusiastic fans of a restaurant will allow, acknowledge, and believe negative reports about that restaurant. I can't speak for others, but personally, when this happens, I'm altruistically disheartened to know that others haven't experienced the joys that I have.

Sorry, I should have been much more clear; I could have saved you a dissertation about licorice and fennel. Presumably, as Zagat does in the U.S., the ratings for restaurants in the Paris guide are based on "votes" submitted by the general dining public. What I meant to ask is (simply) is whether the ratings for the Paris Zagat are a result of a higher number of local Parisian voters or foreign (American) voters. In other words, are the opinions of the Paris Zagat more French-b(i)ased or American/non-French-b(i)ased?

Yeah, that's the strange thing; the website says its in stock, but for some reason, I got a note telling me that it's been delayed. I'm not *too* worried at this point. Zagat? Really? Is it largely French-biased or American-biased. Made reservations at L'Arpege.

Not for the (neighborhood) reasons you give, I echo this observation. Just from examples of restaurants in my city that have been featured in national food/restaurant magazines, I'm completely bewildered by their choice. Projected onto other cities, I can only imagine the kind of hit-and-miss recommendations they offer.

Here is a digest of a (very) long blog post review of my recent two lunches at Fearing's at the Ritz Carlton. You can read the entire enchilada and see the photos at the ulterior epicure. *********************************** ...I had planned on having only one lunch at Fearing’s (with a friend). Arriving early in Dallas offered the unexpected opportunity for an extra mid-day meal. Happening to walk by The Ritz Carlton on my way to the Dallas Art Museum, I dropped in for a sneak eat... Despite (or maybe because of) the seemingly ceaseless praise for the design, I was underwhelmed by the restaurant’s interior. My favorite aspects were the lofty high-ceilings, the artwork (some of which, a few paintings in particular, is quite beautiful); the woodwork; and the stunning back-lit panels of glowing honey onyx employed throughout the restaurant. What is perhaps most significant about the design of the restaurant is its departure from the formality of Fearing’s former home at The Mansion on Turtle Creek. Diners have the option of experiencing the same high-level of food and cooking in four different settings: padded and classy (“Gallery”), sunny and semi casual (“Sendero”), en dehors (“Ocasa,” or outdoor patio), or completely casual (“Dean’s Kitchen”). This is some cause for some celebration if not mild schizophrenia. In many ways, the restaurant seems over-conceptualized. I’ve seen ugly banquettes and I’ve seen pretty banquettes and I prefer either to an uncomfortable settee. Though they arguably contribute a home-like feel, I found the settees in the Sendero Room extremely low and uncomfortably soft. For the thrill-seeking interactive diner, you’ll be disappointed to discover that sitting in “Dean’s Kitchen” – the dining room with a generous view into the wide open kitchen – gets you nowhere near the line, or the action, as Chef Fearing claims. Even if you sit at the spacious counter – the seating closest to the kitchen - where I perched for my first lunch, you have to strain to catch a glimpse of the expediting line. If this were a sushi bar, they’d be importing your imported fish from the kitchen. And I bet that the food served (and/or the special attention he got? Check out the second paragraph.) at the “Chef’s Table,” and not the table’s situation or the table itself, was principally responsible for it – table 321 – being named the Top Table of the Year by Mariani. Otherwise, the table – a high top which seats up to 8 - sits squarely in the spillway between the kitchen, the patio exit, and the dining room, and seemed ill-placed and entirely undistinguished. Although one of its biggest selling points is its elevation - 20 inches higher - which supposedly affords the diners a better view of the kitchen (really, the pastry dispatch), one side sits with it back to the kitchen. But Mariani is a different man with his own opinion, and more significantly, a more important food writer than I, so he’s entitled to highlight whatever table he wants. I had originally requested to be seated in the Gallery Room – the most plush and “formal” of the three dining rooms - for lunch with my friend. But, it was a lot darker than I had envisioned (from the video tour on Fearing’s tricked-out website – it, in fact, has no windows to the outside as it appeared in the video) when I peeked in on my first visit. The Sendero Room, on the other hand, right across the hall, was a bright solarium with a gorgeous “school of fish” chandelier. It was much less formal than the Gallery Room, but no less pleasant – if not more pleasant to a light-seeking diner like me. But the Sendero Room appeared closed during my first visit. When I inquired whether it was used during the day, the restaurant’s manager, Justin Beam, reassured me that it was used, alternating, with the Gallery Room, but more often as a spill-over space during unusually busy lunch services or, as Frank Bruni discovered, as a private party room. Noting that I had requested the Gallery Room for my subsequent reservation, but sensing that I liked the Sendero Room better, he asked whether or not I would prefer to sit in the Sendero Room the next day. Although it was a lovely room, I told him that he needn’t bother the staff with opening up and prepping a room just for my friend and me. Of course, when I returned the next day, my friend and I were shown into the Sendero Room and offered our pick of any table. The Gallery Room saw no diners that lunch. This touches upon what was, perhaps, the highlight of the Fearing’s experience: service. No request, big or small, felt out of ordinary. Whether sitting at the counter in “Dean’s Kitchen,” or in one of the two more genteel dining rooms, I was treated like I owned the place. Over the course of two lunches, I got a wide sampling of the restaurant’s mid-day menu, thanks in part to an accommodation by the kitchen for a request to do a five-course tasting menu on my second visit. Actually, I’m not sure that the tasting format was an accommodation (they said that they do have a lunch tasting available upon request), but I’m fairly certain that allowing us to choose the five courses we wanted was an accommodation even though they didn’t make us feel like it was one. Many of the lunch items are also on their dinner menu – these tended to be Chef Fearing’s “signature dishes.” I tried to stick to these. I can sum up the food in one word: BIG. Chef Fearing serves up bold flavors and Texas-sized portions. Although the main courses are a notch cheaper at lunch than at dinner, the sizes couldn’t possibly differ by as much. My friend and I balked at the size of the main courses coming out of the kitchen which seemed obscenely large for lunch portions. Even though they split our five courses on the tasting, my friend and I were straining toward the end – though admittedly we did choose some of the heavier dishes. The prices are also big. Lunch main courses skirted the thirty dollar line and dinner main courses flew far north of two score apiece. Couldn't I pay less for something a little more reasonable in size? Fearing pushes his Southwest agenda with regional ingredients and techniques. Sometimes, his culturally-inflected approach is aggressive yet sensible (like the “Tortilla Soup” and “Lucian’s Crab Salad” – both signature dishes). At other times, he seems to push the agenda a little too far with over-enthusiastic saucing (not an issue of quantity, rather an issue of too many different sauces on one plate) and superfluous garnishing. There wasn’t a single thing that I tried that I didn’t like, although none of it was terribly exciting beyond being very good. (You can see all of the photos from Fearing’s by clicking here and here.) Seasonal specials achieved equal footing with Chef Fearing’s classic dishes. Not one to gravitate towards soups, I was pleasantly surprised by the “Tortilla Soup” which Fearing made famous at the Mansion on Turtle Creek (it was still on the menu, non-attributably entitled “Mansion Tortilla Soup,” when I had lunch at The Mansion on Turtle Creek just a couple of days later). Thick but smooth, like the best tortilla soups usually are, it possessed immense zest and zing, laced with acid and a late-blooming heat. The bowl contained a commingling of shredded chicken, cheese, and cabbage, diced avocados, and jalepenos topped with a tangle of crunchy strips of fried corn tortilla that rose to top as the warm soup was poured in table-side. The flavors were convincing and the textural elements playful. This was the best thing I had (the recipe is on the restaurant’s website). Everything else paled slightly in comparison. Of the two appetizers we tried, I preferred the “Barbecue Shrimp Taco,” which found plump segments of grilled shrimp lightly dressed with smoky citrus vinaigrette and rolled inside a toasted flour tortilla. More of a wrap than a taco, it was warm, soft, and comforting. Despite my instinct and urge to pick it up, I’m convinced that the half taco was meant to be eaten with a non five-fingered utensil. How else would you get some of the chopped pecans that were strewn across the plate into each bite? The combination there was unique and surprisingly successful. Of course, that didn’t mean I didn’t try eating the taco with my hands. It was buried under a haystack of bright and tart cabbage and pickled red onion slaw (which would show up on a number of our dishes). After one bite, I put it down and picked up my fork. The “Buffalo Taquitos” were exemplary if not entirely uninteresting: crispy double-rolled layer of deep fried corn tortilla encasing a molten filling of shredded buffalo meat (which managed to stay soft and moist like nicely treated short rib meat) and cheese. Despite being accompanied by (perhaps one too) many “salsas” and topped with more of that wonderful slaw, the dish didn’t excite me the way that others did. Maybe I’m not a taquitos kind of guy (I don’t think that’s the problem). Or, maybe two fat taquitos, halved and stacked, was just too much taquito for one person on a five course lunch. I got tired of eating it after having just one half. The two meat dishes on our tasting were less exemplary and even less exciting. The “Carolina Barbecue Pork Tenderloin” was a let down if only for the fact that it didn’t match my expectations of “Carolina barbecue.” I was expecting that loose, tart, and vinegary sauce of the Southeast that I adore above all others. Instead, the dark syrup, which looked much more like demi glace than Carolina barbecue sauce, was a touch spicy (not a bad thing, per se) and two shades too sweet. The accompanying cocotte (enameled Staub, for those who are curious) of *piping hot* jalepeno creamed corn, coated in crunchy breadcrumbs, was more cream than corn and probably more butter than both combined (this too, is not a bad thing, per se – unless you’re laboring under the weight of too much food already). I thought the round of fried green tomato – a rare treat for me - hot and tart on the inside, crunchy with a golden bread coating on the outside, was the best thing going for the dish. I can tell you two things about the “Chili Braised Shortribs:” the portion was way too large (my friend and I split one of our tasting portions and had the other boxed up) and the meat was awash with a beautifully rich molasses-colored braising sauce. Otherwise, flavor and texture was entirely unmemorable, including the queso fresco corn whipped potatoes, which even now seems like something I ought not to have forgotten about. All three of the salads I sampled, two of which made my first lunch, were done well. But here again, there wasn’t anything terribly creative. Putting roasted beets – both gold and candy striped – with mesclun and fried drums of breaded goat cheese (from Dallas’s own Dallas Mozzerella Company) was not new or novel (”Summer Vegetable Salad“). It was your garden variety beet and cheese with sherry vinaigrette. Neither did the summer showcase “Heirloom Tomato Salad” with Point Reyes blue cheese creative enough to merit much discussion. I’ll admit that topping the tomatoes with thick donut-like onion rings offered an unexpected twist, but the crusts were thick and loveless which made the rings as superfluous as they initially seemed. (Maybe the onion rings were meant as an additional complement to the creamy basil dressing on the plate - think basil meets Ranch dressing?) The joy in both of these salads was the freshness and expert treatment of the vegetables and ingredients. “Lucian’s Crab Salad,” on the other hand, occupied a unique corner of the Southwest by putting creamy with heat and adding a touch of sweet. The round of crab salad, more wet than dry and spicier than not, was topped with silky thin shavings of fennel and buttery diced avocado. A slightly crisp tuile offered textural contrast while carrot-cumin vinaigrette completed the flavor circle with smoky sweetness. I wish I could have tried more than one of Pastry Chef Jill Bates’s desserts. Saving up for my dinner at York Street, I skipped dessert at my first lunch. Despite buckling under the weight of too much food, I felt the need to try at least one dessert on my second visit. I naturally gravitated toward the frozen desserts. Faced with a dilemma of choosing between the Trio of Berry Sorbets and Vanilla Malt Ice Cream Sandwiches, I defaulted to the lighter-sounding one, since it was hot and I’d be having a large dinner that night at Lola’s Tasting Room. The “Trio of Berry Sorbets” presented a deconstructed model of three sorbet cones: a scoop each of “STRAW-berry, (pause)… rasP-BERRY, (longer pause with eyes flashing)… and BLOOO-bry sorbet” (that’s how it was affected by our awkwardly affected server) with playfully arranged whipped cream-filled cones, lying on their sides. The three cones were over and underscored with a row of pastry dough crumbs and rainbow assortment of berries, ranging from tiny golden raspberries to larger blackberries. It was pretty and cool (in more ways than one), but mostly straightforward, which is what I was expecting. The rest of the desserts sounded great, but seemed like total gut busters at the time. Servers were gracious, if not a bit clumsy. One of those cocottes of molten creamed corn almost landed on my friend’s head. Thankfully it didn’t. And there was certainly some affectation going on with our “berry” comical friend. I don’t need that much personality out of my server. Does Fearing’s deserve to be named as one of America’s best new restaurants? I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t eaten as extensively across our nation in the past year and a half as Bruni and Mariani have. I also didn’t have dinner at Fearing’s, when the dynamics and atmosphere, I’m sure, is different than during the day. But I question Mariani’s tireless exuberance over Fearing’s. I know that only a handful of very good restaurants open each year, so it’s not hard to believe that an over-achiever like Fearing makes the cut. Of Bruni’s top picks, I’ve been to three: Michael's Genuine Food + Drink (Miami) and Tinto (Philadelphia) being the other two. I would agree with Bruni’s assessment that Fearing’s and Michael’s Genuine Food + Drink outperform Tinto (more on Tinto in a later blog post). But that doesn’t mean that Fearing’s deserves to be on that list too. For the local food set - those familiar with Fearing’s cooking and place on the Dallas food scene as executive chef at The Mansion on Turtle Creek - Fearing’s at the Ritz Carlton is probably more of a revelation and breath of fresh air than I can appreciate. There’s no dress code (I took advantage of that lovely perk – being a “tourist” in a city with 100+ degree temps), the servers go untucked (there was some table discussion about the designer (Alexander Julian) uniforms - untucked butter-yellow button-up and grey slacks), and you don’t necessarily need reservations. The food isn’t bad either. That’s pretty much my formula for a good meal. And I had two good (but not great, and expensive,) ones at Fearing’s. But I didn’t walk away with a strong urge to return.

I'm no Paris dining scene expert, but that's how it strikes me. The dedicated article on Le Baratin was especially interesting.

Say it ain't so!