ulterior epicure

If I were privy to the information that you say your friend is, I'd make myself hard to reach too!

I recently made a trip to Doughmonkey. Has anyone been? Any thoughts? I sampled a few cookies and almost all of their chocolate truffles/molded chocolate pieces. My favorites included the "DeVries Truffle" and the "Tasmanian Honey." Here's my blog post about the chocolates and cookies I tried.

How does Szechuan Gourmet compare with Xiao La Jiao (Little Pepper)? Or, is that not a proper comparison?

A HINT: Mix the mousse up, or at least spoon it from the bottom. That's where the foie component is. It's like the fruit in Dannon yogurt. ← Sneakeater: you eat Dannon yogurt? How healthy of you.

Costco is certainly one of the last places I expected to be selling European black truffles. But, there they are. $99 for 8 oz.

No hidden extras. You'll get amuses and mignardises, although if you want a third course, or dessert, its an additional (and weel-spent) $12.

Even without eating them, those sound immensely better than the chocolate pot de creme (read pudding) with candied lavender.

You might find this discussion interesting.

To me, it connotes impossibly tender, succulent meat or puffy, fluffy doughstuff.

I haven't been as many times as you have, Bryan, but I'll put this out there: does anyone even go with the remote hope that the dessert will be anything worthing looking at twice? The desserts I had at Perry Street and the ones that I've seen and heard about seem extremely boring. I don't think I'd mind, actually, if they never rotated the desserts so long as whatever it was was great.

As I replied to a similar line of reasoning on another forum: As I had noted in my review (upthread), I think Bowles is at a stage in his career (surprisingly early and young) where he's through with catering to the critics. Although I'd like to think I'm a fairly objective fellow, I'll allow that being a friend of Bowles may have colored my experience/assessment (of course, I don't think that it did).

graham elliot gets 2 stars from Phil Vettel.

I'm moving Bluhensfan's comment over from the "Where to eat in Philly" thread: I read about that some time ago. To be honest, I have yet to meet a gelato/sorbetto whose (yes, I'm humanizing this category of food) quality and texture is NOT compromised by packaging and accompanying storage conditions. That Capogiro is launching into this sort of activity gives me pause. I already know of a few restaurants in NYC that serve Capogiro gelato. Although I've not tried the product shipped and stored on-site by restaurants that, presumably, are incapable of keeping the substance at the desired temperature, I can't imagine it'll be as good as that which I can get made in-house at a dozen gelaterias locally (that is, in NYC).

As one who recently had two memorable meals at Vetri, I am quite excited to see Chef Vetri publishing his "notes" as well. I hope he includes the recipe for those wickedly addictive "almond tortellini" filled with risotto.

What is this all about? Are you going to be *evil,* or are you going to be a good little wench and tell us all about the dinner so that we can burst into tears of jealousy along with your two friends?!?!

BTW, I seemed to have failed to send you all a BIG thank you for all of the help and advice you gave me. I think the Pennsylvania forum has a collection of some of the nicest eG members I've encountered.

Great, now I can go to class and get fat at the same time! Yes, I did get to DiNic's. And, since I'm having an explosively (figuratively speaking) busy week at the *gainful employ,* I'll cut to the chase and give you a preview of what else contributed to my weight gain, other than Capogiro (although, this morning, my scale said that I'm back down to my previous weight - I guess my disciplined running regimen has helped). In no particular order (or, the order in which they are appearing in my mind): Le Bec Fin Vetri (x2) Tinto (x2) DiNic's (RTM) Salumeria (RTM) Amada Zahav Fisher's (RTM) Bassett's (RTM) Biggest regret: I failed to make it to Osteria, Matyson, and Ansill Food + Wine. I guess between those three and the new Capogiro on campus, I have plenty of reason to return to Philly soon.

Yeah, there are just too many good flavors that I didn't get to see. Yeah, I'll just chalk this one up as taking a bullet for the team. BTW, slightly off-topic: has anyone ever noticed the oddly wallpapered apartment entryway just catty corner across 13th and Sansom from the Capogiro (on Sansom)? Here's a picture to help jog your memory. Naturally, walking by that street corner nearly twice a day for a week, I happened to notice it - especially at night, when the garish pattern was lit up. The apartment entryway is right next to a dog/pet (?) store that manages to stay open until 10pm. I don't think we have that kind of pet store in the Midwest.

As I stated, I thought the soufflé was out of step with the overall aesthetic of the tasting menu. That being said, I don't think that a soufflé, per se (not to be confused with the restaurant that I shall comment on next), equates with mediocrity. The soufflé at L20 is a exemplary; I maintain that on a different tasting menu, it could have easily ruled the roost. So too for the creme brulée at per se. Is it my favorite dessert? Absolutely not (in fact, it's one of my least favorite - it's like spooning facial cream). But, as I stated in a recent review of per se on my blog, it is the perfect creme brulée, technically. I don't think that it's an inside joke. Rather, it's one more flawless execution for those "in the know" to marvel at. I might be willing to concede that L20's soufflé tries to accomplish a similar purpose. BTW, the pistachio macaron at L20 had a fine texture. Unfortunately, I thought it was too sweet.

As far as I could tell (from observing a number of regular prix fixe diners around me), that the 4-course prix fixe does include amuses and mignardises, although there may not be as many pre-desserts as on the 12-course. Also, the portion sizes for the 4-course are commensurate with the price, in my opinion.

Oops. I had the Lemon Opal Basil as well (as a taste). It didn't have enough basil in my opinion; I got the Pluot instead. The Pluot was immensely flavorful.

Here is a large excerpt from my blogpost review of L20. You can read the entire review (and see the photos) on the ulterior epicure. ******* ... the unique thing about L20 is that it’s not unique. It defies comparison with any other fine dining restaurant I’m familiar with or have visited. Yet, it seems to exhibit the behaviors and qualities of all of them. It’s so nondescript, yet all-encompassing that it’s almost a generic farce - an inside-out take on fine dining created for the sheer exercise of replicating such an enterprise. You know what it’s like? It’s like that song from the musical Spamalot, “The Song That Goes Like This.” Well, this is “The Fine Dining Experience that Goes Like This.” It’s got the right ingredients, the servers (try to) say the right things, the serviceware is gorgeous, the wine list is extensive, and the presentations and compositions haute. L20 feels fine dining. However, I left wondering how much of what I experienced at L20 was truly original and to the restaurant. But, “Lettuce” not forget who and what is behind this enterprise. L20 is Chicago’s kingpin restaurateur, Melman, flexing his muscles anew. It’s the latest member of the Lettuce Entertain You group, and entertain, above all else, they do. Upon reflection, it’s sophisticated camp. Theatrics are high; the concepts, lofty; and the investment, extravagant. It was clear from the very beginning that L20 was meant to dazzle and impress. Even before the restaurant had opened in the space formerly occupied by Ambria in the Belden Stratford apartment building, Chef Laurent Gras & Co. started the hype rolling with a blog which gave previews of the all of the tricked-out gadgets and techniques that would be employed. No expense was or is spared. Every whim was and is indulged. The 12-course Tasting presented the following progression. You can click on each item to see a picture, or click here to see the entire set. I also supplemented two courses ($25 each) into my tasting. They are identified accordingly. Amuse Bouche Peanut Butter Sponge Wasabi Tuna Bonito, Lime Foam First Course Geoduck Citrus, Wasabi Second Course Butter Cod Earl Grey, Orange Third Course Tuna Yuzu, Soy Sauce, Black Olive Emulsion, Olive Oil Emulsion Fourth Course Kinmedai Cherry Wood Scented, Shiso Bud Supplement Lamb Tartar Ebi Shrimp, Pickled Peach, Tarragon Supplement Scallop Sassafras, Hibiscus, Tomato Fifth Course Halibut Espelette, Tomato, King Oyster Sixth Course Lobster Morel, Sea Bean, Foie Gras Emulsion Seventh Course Hawaiian Sea Bass Nicoise, Lemon, Corn Grits, Zucchini Eighth Course Black Bass Shellfish Bouillon, Saffron, Rhode Island Mussels Ninth Course Pork Belly Truffle, Potato Tenth Course Shabu Shabu Medai Kombu Chicken Bouillon, Citrus, Porcini Pre-Dessert Carrot-Orange Carrot-Orange Fizz Watermelon Ice Strawberry Juice Eleventh Course Mango Mint Caramel Filled Donut Holes Cherry Ice Twelfth Course Praline Souffle Praline Grand Marnier Souffle Mignardises Passion Fruit Marshmallow Pistachio Macaron Many have likened L20 to alinea and moto on a broader scale. Although the restaurant’s interior, serviceware, and food looks hyper-modern, I don’t think this is an accurate comparison. As for the food, I’m sure that Gras and his crew employ more chemicals in their cooking than is readily apparent. However, most of the molecular gastronomy - what little I detected - seemed isolated at the fringes, like the amuse bouche - a Peanut Butter Sponge which was like eating peanut butter-flavored air with a little moist resistance. (You can read how about the technique on the L20 blog.), and the pre-dessert - an orange nugget called “Carrot-Orange” which had the texture of an airy dry meringue and gave off whisps of (presumably) liquid nitrogen. The former was Achatz-like and the latter could have come out of the labs of Homaro Cantu. Most of the techniques and preparations at L20 seem more straightforward and naturally achieved than either alinea or moto (same with the plating and presentation, which aren’t as “gimmicky” to me as those at alinea and moto), which is why some group L20 with Le Bernardin. Although L20 bills itself as a serious seafood restaurant, such a comparison doesn’t seem well-placed either. It’s not even because L20 has red meat on its menu. The entire aesthetic and approach to the food is different from Eric Ripert’s at Le Bernardin. Le Bernardin is French with international influences - Coco Chanel to L20’s Japanese-leaning French haute couture styles of Hanae Mori. Flavors and techniques are French, but there’s a dainty Asian style of plating. L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon isn’t quite right either, but if one insists on drawing comparisons, it’s a closer approximation. Perhaps such comparisons are unproductive and pedantic at best. So, what about the food? Without my two supplements, the 12-course menu is already a considerable amount of food for $165. Next to alinea’s “tour” ($225 for approx. 25 courses) and moto’s “GTM” ($175 for approx. 15 courses), it’s Chicago’s most expensive dinner. And, at these prices, it rivals the higher-end establishments on both coasts. There’s no doubt that you get your money’s worth in the amount and quality of the products served. Although early reports indicated that the meal had numerous previews and postludes, they seemed to have trimmed them down to just two amuses bouche, two pre-desserts, and two post-dinner sweets. But, the more interesting issue is whether, technical execution aside, L20’s tasting menu, as a gastronomic and intellectual experience, justifies the price tag. For the serious client, that’s the index that really counts. Beyond the cost of the food, which I’m sure is covered by the price of the meal, is there “added value?” - a priceless quantity that every serious diner seeks? Given its heretofore short life, I’m hesitant to pronounce a verdict. But, here is my initial observation about L20’s tasting menu: while there were glimpses of true genius in some of the cooking, there were also gaps filled with somewhat hackneyed conventions. And, there were also a few gaffes: the opening volley of geoduck was so uncharacteristically strong-tasting that not even a heavy dousing of lime could chase away the fishiness. Later, a friend found an eyelash in his dish. Needless to say, it was promptly replaced with apologies. And, the star of the 9th course, a cut of pork belly, was tough and the top layer of crackling was impenetrably hard. That was a bummer, especially since the accompanying cylinder of caramelized potato (think potato fondant, but glazed instead of crispy on the surface) was exceedingly good. The starchy drum was piped with a creamy filling not unlike the potato emulsion (think Robuchon’s potato puree) that came with another course. For the price and level of respect that L20 tries to command, these mistakes shouldn’t happen, even if the restaurant has only been opened 2 months. By and large, the proteins were extremely fresh and, where applicable, perfectly cooked. Halibut was poached to a soft, supple consistency. Likewise, Hawaiian Sea Bass, coated in breadcrumbs, and Black Sea Bass, which came tented under a thin, crisped slice of brioche (a preparation I first encountered a few years ago) on a bed of plump Rhode Island mussels, were treated with expert attention. Sauces were accomplished and seasoning and accents were deftly played (although a rapid succession of aggressively acidic preparations prompted my friend to wonder whether there had been a special on citrus at the market). But, this should all go without having to be said. And, there’s clearly a high level of thinking going on. A few of the dishes presented unique compositions and combinations, some more successfully than others. With the exception of the Butter Cod, which was lightly infused with an Earl Grey fragrance and paired with orange (segments, juice, and strips of orange gelatin) and fennel blossoms, the first few raw courses didn’t propose any extraordinary discoveries other than a reminder of how good raw fish can be. This, in itself, is an accomplishment not to be underestimated. The sashimi slices of butter cod were a good example, as were the small tangled strips of Kinmedai that were topped simply with sea salt and fresh shiso buds. I appreciated the chef’s restraint in preserving the inherently rewarding simplicity of these ingredients. The same could be said about the last course, Shabu Shabut Medai, which, looking past the drama involved, put the emphasis on the texture and flavor of the fish. Three slices of Medai (big eye snapper) sashimi lined up on a beautifully fashioned wooden bridge with a shiso leaf, some vegetables and porcini mushrooms. Servers set up a mini nuclear power plant-like device which helps keep a bowl of hot chicken-kombu bouillion hot. As the name suggests, you “cook” your Medai sashimi until you achieve the desired shabu shabu stage. There’s also a refreshingly tart and light citrus sauce on the side. The perfect bite (for me) involved wrapping a piece of fish in a shiso leaf for a 5 second dunk and then lightly dressing it with the citrus sauce. The three most outstanding dishes were the Haawiian Sea Bass, the Lamb Tartar (supplemented) and the Lobster… Beyond these three dishes, most seemed more focused on “wow factor” than on being meritoriously special in their own right. Indeed, most of the savory dishes were only slightly interesting at best. I didn’t feel like I got anything that I couldn’t also get at another very high end establishment. The least successful ones seemed like obligatory references to (acknowledgments of?) current trends… The desserts tended to be more refreshing - which was welcomed after such a long and heavy meal - than dazzling. There was a considerable amount of fruit involved. The “Carrot Orange” was more fun at best, and the underlying “fizz” of the same flavor combination was too syrupy thick to be truly enjoyable. The same complaint could apply to the “Watermelon Ice,” which came with a thick and over-sweet strawberry “juice.” I couldn’t have the “Mango” – mango panna cotta topped with soft meringue with mango broth poured table-side - which my friends said was “just good,” so I got a bevy of delicate sugar-dusted donut holes filled (almost imperceptibly) with caramel. They were fine. The better half of this dessert was in the bowl beneath the donut holes - a cherry slushy with macerated sweet cherry halves. It was like iced cherry to the nth degree. On a different tasting menu, the soufflé, which was the final word, literally and figuratively, on the desserts at L20, might have been the piece de resistance. It was textbook. Tall and proud, it was a fluffy praline cloud loaded up with rich praline cream at the table. Nutty and buttery, this version could not have been improved upon. (My friend’s Grand Marnier soufflé substitution was equally as fantastic – perhaps even more so only for the fact that the sauce contained chunks of orange segments macerated in the liqueur.) Yet, despite the perfect execution, I’m not sure that these soufflés fit well in the tasting progression. The soufflés seemed jarringly out-of-step with the rest of the meal; old school in this new school world. It’s obvious that the service at L20 has every intention of being excellent, even though, at just past the restaurant’s two-month anniversary, it didn’t quite achieve that level for me. For example, I had asked if it would be possible to supplement two dishes into the 12-course tasting and have them sized down to fit, proportionally, into my progression. Perhaps I wasn’t clear. Or, perhaps my server wasn’t clear when she said that it would not be a problem. Either way, I ended up with two full-sized portions, which was an absurd amount of food on top of what was already a large tasting. The servers are, no doubt, still trying to feel out the rhythm and dynamics of the dining room, and it’s apparent. At times, the service felt strained and tight. Serious is good, funereal is bad - smug is even worse, and there was a bit of that, too. Although our server was very professional and accommodating, I found the individual annoyingly insincere and aloof. The one noticeably bright spot on the staff was the wine director, Chantelle Pabros, who came to L20 from the highly acclaimed Ritz Carlton at Buckhead. She was effervescent and patient, even if I didn’t quite agree with her wine suggestion. She helped my friends home in on a bottle and me, a glass. I asked for an oaky white, she brought out Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc 2006. It tasted of grapefruit, vegetables and petrol. Even though I didn’t quite care for the taste of the wine by itself, I took her word that it would pair nicely with my tasting. In my opinion, it did not strike a chord with any of my 14 courses. On a positive note, I cannot quit this review without mentioning the bread at L20. It is spectacular. Beyond a few nibbles, I’m generally not a bread-eater in restaurants. However, the selection at L20 was extraordinary. There are the usual suspects; mini baguettes and rustic pain de campagne – both with excellent crumb and crust. But, there were also novelties like creamy pain au lait, flaky pastry buns filled with boquerones, and pain d’epi with bacon. Everything one of them is baked in-house in the same ovens used for baking the desserts and cannelés. L20 may be the most anticipated and important restaurant opening for Chicago this year. But, on this early visit, the overall operation felt wobbly, if not terribly stilted. The arch and tenor of the tasting menu felt awkward. Portions tended to be over-sized. Getting hung up on repetition (halibut, Hawaiian sea bass, and black sea bass in succession, for example), with appearances of a few non sequiters (like the souffle and the Pork Belly), the progression also seemed to lack cohesion and flow. Does L20’s food suffer from what some might want to coin as “per se Syndrome?” - that is, technical proficiency without soul. Is it guilty of gimmickry? Is it stuffy? To all of these questions, and more, I answer: perhaps. I need to eat at L20 more consistently to decide. Melman and Gras may be great at replication, but there needs to be a little more fine-tuning and a heavy injection of personality before I’m convinced that L20 deserves to be declared a fine dining heavyweight. I’ll look forward to returning one day to see how it develops.

I don't see how Philadelphia wouldn't fit the description. Incidentally, I would offer it as the home to the best restaurants between New York and Chicago (the fact that I just returned from Philadelphia has nothing to do with this). If you wanted me to name one specific restaurant, I'd be tempted to offer Vetri, where I recently had two very good dinners. But, I fail to see how this inquiry falls under the purview of "The Heartland."

Katie, I could not have summd up my observations more efficiently. philadining: and you don't even know what I ate yet! I think my scale at home is broken. Boy, do I have a couple of months of hard training and discipline ahead of me. Oy.

I assumed you liked the Bacio the best? ← You're the umpteenth person to ask me what my favorite was. I honestly can't say. And, no, the Bacio would not make my top five list. If push came to shove, I would probably say that my top five favorites (shockingly dominated by sorbeti) were the Rosemary Honey and Goat's Milk gelato, the Blueberry-Grand Marnier sorbeto, the Melone con Absente sorbeto (which was a shock, since I abhor absinthe, normally), the Espresso sorbeto, the English Sea Salt gelato, and the Mojito sorbeti. But, really, they were all very good.