ulterior epicure

I agree that The Modern has been misplaced on the Meyer shelf. The food, I think, is very "three-star-like" in terms of creativity, having a registered "voice," and the quality of execution. Now, if they could only close that gap in the walls so that the din from The Bar Room doesn't drown out my meal.

Well said my friend. With the exception of shrinking the room - I happen to love it - I'll buy all of that.

The duck, which he praises in the review, isn't served on the Gourmand, I don't believe. I suppose if you had a big enough party, it might be possible.

What is with this doom and gloom? I don't know what kind of ivory tower some of you have put per se and the rest of the four-stars in, but I don't think that Eleven Madison Park is any less worthy. I may not have eaten at the NY four-stars as frequently as some of you, but I have been to them all. My two favorite NYT four-stars, up until this evening, have been Le Bernardin and Jean Georges. I return to them as frequently as possible. But I can name flaws in both restaurants that Eleven Madison Park, in my book, doesn't track. For all of those who posit that Humm's food has stagnated, let's take a look at Jean Georges's menu, shall we? Nearly half of the dishes are the same ones the restaurant has been offering for nearly a decade. The same can be said of some of Ripert's dishes. Yes, that's a function of popular items becoming "signature" items and, therefore, they remain, year after year, season after season. And why shouldn't they? They're great. And yes, I get it - your argument would be that these dishes have been perfected and that Daniel Humm's dishes haven't been perfected. I disagree. Humm's food may not be the most thrilling or exciting food in the city. But per se and Daniel have demonstrated that four-star cuisine doesn't have to be thrilling or exciting. It just has to be technically flawless. I think Humm's food is exactly that. And, for me, it's more than just technically flawless. It's delicious. It's beautiful. It's creative. And it's diverse. So what, exactly, is this plateau that Humm supposedly can't overcome? What is that next level that everyone is demanding? I think he's achieved a pretty high vantage already. Perhaps he can climb higher; I hope he does. But I don't see his cooking as any less significant or less technically proficient as the other masters whose ranks he now joins. And then there's service. Yes, some complain that the Meyer family is over-eager, too friendly, (if that can be a complaint). Some find it "oleaginous." Fair enough. Meyer breeds a rather happy crew. But I'd much rather have happy and friendly service than the chilly and gruff service I've received at Le Bernardin and Daniel. And, well, at masa, there's hardly any service at all.

Congratulations to the House of Humm. Welcome to the four-star club.

Would this make Humm the youngest chef to receive four stars from a NYT critic?

THe maids ate all the okra that I brought back from my last trip before I could even get a taste. ← Misanthropic wenches. Put them in their proper "downstairs" cubby holes.

Also, is it made by "Just Vegetable Company?" If so, I can get that here. Are they freeze-dried, or are they fried vegetable chip-like items?

Yes, pray tell, as I have a friend who can make a run for me. I love getting care packages from Central Market.

So, I hear DiStefano is back in the house. Any updates?

I assume by "vacuum fried," you mean dehydrated, right?

Spelling correction: Mr. John Curtas.

Robert, thanks for this very helpful post. I had tried to go see the facility, but it did not work out. If you read my blog post about this, you'll also see that I question whether or not the dry-aged beef has been treated with UV radiation. Do you know whether or not this is the case?

No donut is any good the next day. Nor should it be. Donuts are meant to be eaten fresh. Those wonderful donuts of my childhood would pass the heavenly stage by an hour later! You had to get them hot out of the fryer, cooled just enough to enable handling without burns. I wish I had you by my side in college; I had a friend who insisted that the donuts in his dorm room were good a week after he bought them. He would buy a dozen every week and go through the box, one a day, two on each weekend days. I was mortified.

And Bouchon.

I recently stopped in for brunch. There's not much to report, but here's an excerpt from the ulterior epicure, where a fuller report with photos can be obtained.

I've posted about two of my Las Vegas meals on this forum: Joel Robuchon at The Mansion Carnevino More to come.

Since reading jsmeeker's report of an 8-month dry-aged steak, I became mildly obsessed. How could this be? I endeavored to find out for myself. I came to a different conclusion about the steak than either jsmeeker or his host, local food commentator, Mr. Curtis. Here's an excerpt from my blog post about my meal at Carnevino. To read the entire report and the visuals, visit the ulterior epicure.

The following is a lengthy excerpt from my blog post about my recent meal at Joel Robuchon at The Mansion. If you want all the details plus the visuals, visit the ulterior epicure.

alwang is right, the repetition complaint IS a red herring. As he says, we all clearly agree that it is possible to create a menu repeating a single ingredient in which the variation in preparation prevents the overall meal from being boring. And, as I stated above, the repetition of ingredients was the least of my concerns with my latest meal at Blue Hill at Stone Barns. Clearly, this is a sophisticated group of diners here. And clearly, you all expect and deserve a clearer picture of my meal in order to understand my disappointment. So does Chef Barber and the rest of his staff, who, I have no doubt, strive every day for the best. First, let me ask you to consider the following questions: What makes Blue Hill at Stone Barns different from other restaurants? What does it offer and do that others can and do not offer? What are its selling points? Next, refer to this post and my subsequent response, for background. And then, consider whether the following meal (which I described to friends and I more or less copied and pasted here, so please excuse the repetition with regard to some of my earlier posts) meets the expectations that you would have with regard to a meal at Blue Hill at Stone Barns. * * * * I don't doubt that Blue Hill at Stone Barns can be a phenomenal experience; many seem to enjoy it immensely. Unfortunately, neither time I've been there have I been terribly impressed. The first time I was there, in September of 2007, it was alright. Some of the food was very good. Some of it was rather forgettable. The wine pairings, as I recall, were rather poorly done in my opinion. I found myself back at BH@SB at the top of May of this year. It was, outside of my meal at Bouley just two months prior, one of the most bungled meals I've ever had. I note, however, that this latest visit coincided with the James Beard Awards weekend and I know, from a good friend who ate there on the same day as I did for lunch, that the house was saturated with (and probably stretched by) VIPs rolling through. Of course, that's no excuse for shoddy service and poorly arranged food, but so it went. My party of four elected the Farmer's Feast (I couldn't imagine any other way of eating here, but given the subsequent experience, choosing a la carte might have proved more successful). There were many inconsistencies in explanations: deer tongue was presented as ramps. Meat-filled ravioli were presented as gnocchi. We were left scratching our heads, wondering whether we were given some other table's order or whether we all were confused as to exactly what gnocchi were. Later, upon inquiring, we were told that they called them gnocchi because the pasta dough for the ravioli were made from gnocchi dough. More troubling, however, were the inconsistencies in the food. Lamb arrived on what seemed to be chilled plates. The meat was too cold to enjoy. Begrudgingly, two in my party insisted on sending them back. So back they went for all of us. A salad - announced as "Asparagus Salad" - featured nothing more on the plate than some lettuce, three asparagus tip halves (I'm not kidding) and bits of dried apricot (and a couple of edible flowers). Not that this salad was not good. But I found it somewhat of a throw-away course. One just doesn't see a plain, simple salad on a "spontaneously-assembled" tasting menu. Later, of course, after our meal, when we saw the printed menu, we realized that they had purposely left the caviar out of the salad because one in our party had specified at the beginning of the meal that the only thing she didn't care for was caviar. But she did emphasize to our server that she did not want the rest of the party to suffer because of it. So, why leave the caviar out of the rest of our salads? Why not just serve her something different and give us the salads with the caviar, as intended? Or, if they wanted us to have all the same dish, why not just send out something else without compromising this salad as it was intended? (We did notice other tables getting the same salad as a part of their "feast," and it did appear to have caviar in it). We felt like this salad was a dumbed-down version of something that could have been potentially much more interesting - the asparagus wasn't THAT good. And, as mentioned before, there were no pistachios on my plate. At all. That just compounded my disappointment in this dish. And, although I know that the restaurant celebrates the bounty of the seasons, given the list of nearly a hundred seasonal items at their disposal, I have no idea why the same two or three vegetables appeared at every turn. It all seemed highly unimaginative. Wine service was, perhaps, the most disappointing part of our meal. None of us thought any of the wines paired with the food, save the La Rioja Alta, S.A., Gran Reserva 904, Cosecha 1997, which was paired with the lamb. It amplified the dill (one of my favorite herbs). This is not to say our entire experience was spoiled. We had a pretty good scallop course, and the desserts were, in my opinion, quite good. We added a cheese course, which was generously portioned and quite nicely done (we were offered an additional pairing - a white wine; we declined). Given all the great choices in the city, and increasing number of farm-to-table experiences I can have elsewhere, I'm not sure I'm compelled to return to Stone Barns to eat. I would, however, like to tour the farm one day. A severe time crunch on my first trip and rain on my second have precluded me from doing so. * * * * I should make it clear that our servers were very nice and friendly. But they were either misinformed or careless (Here's another example, we moved tables just shortly after being seated - just when our pre-feast bites arrived. Somehow, a few of our amuses didn't quite make the move with us, which was particularly vexing to me because there were some delicious-looking items that I wish I had gotten to try.). I don't doubt that the house had a very tiring day of taking care of very high-profile guests. Again, crap happens. It just sucks when it happens to you. I should also note that the reason I know what was *supposed* to be on our plates is because they gave us each a printed menu of what we had. Needless to say, many of the printed description derogated from what we received. Clearly, this menu was not prepared just for us. Of course, I'm not so naive as to really believe that the kitchen tailors each "Farmer's Feast" to the individual table; that would be quite impossible - especially on a busy night. But they should be more up front about it. Regardless, they should really be a bit more careful about handing out these "pre-printed" menus to clients whom they've told are being specially cooked for by the kitchen, less they appear to be scripted. I know better, but many do not. It's insincere and, I think, rather insulting. Here are a few photos from that meal (the descriptions are what was printed on our menu): Stone Barns Carrots and Radishes Crab Yogurt, Dill Our server told us that the crab rested on a bed of ramps. I love ramps. however, the green lettuce-like substance under the crab didn't look, taste, or smell like ramps. When we clarified the issue at the end of service, our captain said that it wasn't ramps but "deer tongue" - a slightly bitter leaf. While I have no way of confirming or refuting this out of personal experience, it was certainly a more plausible explanation than ramps, which it most certainly was not. This dish was fairly straightforward in flavors: putting a familiar crustacean accompaniment pairing (dill and tangy cream) in a different form. This dish was served slightly chilled, which made it particularly refreshing. Asparagus Caviar, almonds Scallop Ramps, green garlic. My favorite course of the evening. This Morning's Farm Egg Red fife, ramps, and speck. I'm positive that the description printed on our menus did not matched what was actually in this dish. The subtitle should have read: fiddle heads, morels, and pine nuts. Handmade Pasta Beef shank, fiddleheads. Again, clearly not gnocchi. When we asked about the filling, halfway through this course, we were told that they were filled with pork. Later, we were told that it was beef short ribs. Still, later, after we received our copies of the tasting menus, we were told that the menu was correct: beef shank. This last explanation seemed the most likely, given the texture and flavor of the filling. The sauce at the very bottom was spinach-based. It was, in addition to the fiddleheads, the most rewarding part of this dish. The pasta, unfortunately, was gummy and glue-like. Pastured Lamb Spring parsnips, asparagus. When our lamb returned, replated, it was warmer. This time, our plates came with a rib chop, sliced loin meat, and a square of belly (slightly different from our previous, cold plates which had been sent back). And, instead of the dark leafy greens, this dish came garnished with dill. Otherwise, the same parsnip puree, parsnip coins, and asparagus sections decorated this plate. The lamb was very tender and full of flavor (just slightly musky). The rib chop, especially, was very good. The accompaniments were fine. But the most extraordinary thing about this dish was actually the wine pairing. The La Rioja Alta, S.A. acted as an amazing speakerphone for the dill. In fact, the pairing was so spot on that one whiff of the wine brought the dill back full force in the mouth. It was highly complementary. This leads me to ask: since dill did not come on our first plating, was the addition of dill a mistaken omission on the first plate, or was its addition in the second plate a stroke of luck? The wine had already been poured before the food was presented. Andante Dairy Cheeses Cavatina (left) and Cadence (right). Parsnip and Spelt Bergamot & ginger ice cream. The cake was rather approachable and amazingly soft and moist. Red Beets & Chocolate Molasses and coffee ice cream. This was an awesome combination of flavors. The coffee ice cream, together with the beets and chocolate, produced a petrol-like of flavor. In wine, I tend not to like that flavor profile. But here, I found the flavor fascinating because it almost made the coffee seem like more of a savory rather than a sweet. Chestnut Macarons I don't want to sound ungrateful here, and not that I'd turn down a decent chestnut macaron, but if BH@SB's "schtick" is to offer local and season products, I'm not sure I can understand how chestnut macarons in the springtime fit into that model. They are neither local (are they?) nor seasonal. I know that the restaurant's not chained to its cause, but, unlike other parts of the meal, I think that this was a rather easy opportunity for the restaurant to translate their philosophy onto the plate. At my first meal, we had tomatoes, stone fruits, green beans, eggs, chicken, pork, beans, corn, and multiple types of fruit all from the Stone Barns farm. Brook trout was fished on the wider grounds of the Rockefeller estate. This time, we had baby carrots and turnips, asparagus, egg, spinach, and deer tongue from the farm. But we also had crab and scallop, neither of which clearly came from the farm. We had lamb, which came from Elysian Fields, if I'm not mistaken. That's in Pennsylvania. We had cheese from California. And I don't believe pine nuts grow anywhere near Pocantico Hills, nor do chestnuts. Again, I KNOW Blue Hill at Stone Barns can't be expected to serve a complete meal from its own farms. That's not its mission as I understand it. But my latest meal seemed to have lost the thread for which (I thought) Stone Barns is known for leading. I know this can't be conveyed. And quite possibly, it can't be believed. But it was quite clear to the four of us that the service during our meal was stretched and not on at its best (even though I'm certain I don't know what the restaurant's best is). It was not a question of casual versus formal; I've had far more casual service and walked out exponentially happier. The kitchen seemed to be tired as well. Clearly, the entire house had had a long weekend of very hard work. I'm just sorry that it showed at our meal, one which cost us a considerable amount of money. Again, it wasn't disastrous meal (that was my Bouley meal in March), but it was just a very awkward meal plagued by consistently careless and confused service and some so-so food. You can see the rest of the photos HERE.

I believe you Bobster, with no qualifications.

No, no, I get what you and everyone else here is saying. Let me put this another way. I have no way to prove this. But, instead of feeling like it was a celebration of certain ingredients, it felt like what we got was all that was left. Again, I can't say for certain that this was the case. That's just how it felt. ← For example: At the beginning of the meal, they ask if anyone has any food allergies or dislikes. One member of out party said that she does not care for caviar, but emphasized that she did not want that to preclude the rest of the party from enjoying it if that is what the chef intended on serving. So, we receive a salad as one of our courses. What kind of salad? A green salad. Here, I'll show you: Now, for those members of the board who know me well, they'll vouch for me when I say I love salads. I am not going to be the first person to complain about getting a salad in a high or low-end restaurant. This dish was presented as "asparagus salad with pistachios." This salad was lightly dressed, with perhaps three or four halved pencil asparagus stalks and bits of apricot. I'm going to try really hard not to complain that it was extremely small (I actually took a picture of my friend's salad because it was fuller. Mine was about 2/3 the size of this one.) Not that this salad was not good. But I found it somewhat of a throw-away course. One just doesn't expect to see a plain, simple salad on a "spontaneously-assembled" tasting menu. Later, of course, after our meal, when we saw the printed menu, we realized that they had purposely left the caviar out of the salad. Why leave the caviar out of the rest of our salads? Why not just server the one member of our party who didn't care for caviar something different and give us the salads with the caviar, as intended? Or, if they wanted us to have all the same dish, why not just send out something else without compromising this salad as it was intended? We felt like this was a dumbed down version of something that could have been potentially much more interesting. There were no pistachios on my plate. At all. That just compounded my disappointment in this dish.

No, no, I get what you and everyone else here is saying. Let me put this another way. I have no way to prove this. But, instead of feeling like it was a celebration of certain ingredients, it felt like what we got was all that was left. Again, I can't say for certain that this was the case. That's just how it felt.

Oh, I know. I take full responsibility of taking your steakhouse analogy and running with it.

Look, I don't enjoy being the "bad guy" here, or the "party pooper." I know there are a lot of loyal BH@SB fans out there. I just wish that, between my two visits to the restaurant, I had at least one that even came close to convincing me that this place is worth the celebration. I suppose I'm Fat Guy before his latest meal described above.