robert brown

If you're an American who objects to being surrounded by Americans in a restaurant in France, no one else in the restaurant is able to tell you're an American.

I would now give the benefit of the doubt to the concierge at the Marriott. Neither of you victimized diners are missing a great gastronomic experience, IMHO. I would e-mail this thread to Derek Brown, the editor-in-chief of the Guides Michelin. I brought e-Gullet to his attention several months ago, but I don't know how assiduously he follows it.

Asitane Restaurant next to the Church of St. Savior serves food based on old recipes from Topkapi Palace. It is the only luxury food of interest we had. It's worth a stop. Hagi Babah is a good address. There is a fish restaurant near the Four Seasons that was delicious, but the name escapes me. I guess you could stop by and ask the concierge or front desk. If you can bargain on the price, the Four Seasons is THE place to stay. In the Spice Bazaar we bought some amazing vanilla. Iranian caviar is about 1/3rd the price as here or in France, but you have to be careful. Make sure you taste from the large tins your purchase would be taken from and that the caviar isn't mushy. I bought about four varieties in smallish quantities. It is best stored at 26 degrees F, so you should probably eat it while still in Istanbul. Not all dealers have ice packs. The guy I bought most of mine from does, and he also told me if I called him a couple of days ahead, he would get me his best stuff. Interpret that however you want. Anyway, I have his info. (name, phone and stall number if you would like it). Avoid the restaurant on the Topkapi Palace grounds, although the view is nice. Check the website of Nehzen Tours in Bodrum owned by a nice American woman. She knows Turkey extraordinarily well and it is worth using her just to recommend and book a hotel, after which you can elicit good names and addresses from her.

1. They convinced their fourth brother to join them in Woody Herman's Second Herd. 2. They decided to hire George S. Kaufman as a script writer and work in the movies. Has anyone heard of anything else?

Marcus, what keeps me from returning to Helene Darroze was the inept service that kept us sitting and waiting seemingly forever for the food. I thought the cooking was very nice, however. This was nearly three years ago. When were you there? Maxence is a place I have not visited. Thanks for the lead. Marc, that was a superb piece about Lionel Poilane.

Marc, at Le Recamier do they sit and pick each other's brains? Actually I used to make it a must when I was in Paris. Do you know if it is holding up? Although I like to try new restaurants, I am having a devilish time finding really good-sounding restaurants (not too "far out") that are not unvisited three stars and the classics like Le Recamier that I already know? Any suggestions? Anyone? (Helene Darroze would be an example, but I have been there before).

Southern Girl, anything new in this situation? Keep up posted and your eye on the ball.

Jeff and Marcus, we were up there a couple of weeks ago and had our first "competitive" meal in the Berkshires at Verdura. True, my bucatini needed some pepper flakes to eliminate the blandness, but the restaurant has a good way with quail regardless, so far, of how they prepare it. The pizza crust is thin and unyielding (you really need a meat knife to cut through it), but the toppings are very good. Service by a young staff is friendly and very efficient. We went on a Saturday night. They told us there were no tables when we phoned that afternoon, but that the two of us could eat at the bar. In the end they slipped us between two servings at a table and we were out in just over an hour. True there were faults, but overall it was as good, if not better than, say, the Second Ave. Cafe de Trevi. The chef makes a real effort to break away from the tried and true and succeeds enough to warrant a visit each time we go to the Berkshires. I feel the same about Wheatleigh and Blantyre. My feeling is that the odds are against you especially on a value for money basis. Our dinner about six weeks ago at Bistro Zinc was also mediocre as was one last year at the sister restaurant Pearl's (steakhouse) across from Verdura on Railroad St. in Gt. Barrington. (One day I'll have to tell you about Gould's Farm ""Restaurant". Don't go for Sunday breakfast if you want to get back to the City before dark. Does anyone know it? It is different, however.)

Jacques Cagna has been around for years and I don't think he was, after perhaps for a period at the begining, a top priority of knowledgeable foodies. I also think he has had a bit of a shady reputation if memory serves me correctly. I want to check a 2001 Gault-Millau which I think withheld a rating of his restaurant, which is often the sign of a problem.

Only before weighing. Maybe if there were some dirt on it, but generally speaking I have never done, seen or heard of it.

Steve, are you saying that Gaz de France supplies a different kind of gas to me than it does to someone living in Lyon, say? The index of Waverly Root's "The Food of France" has nothing about fuel. White truffles should be kept in a paper towel. Rice also sucks out the flavor and aroma. Of course if you want an expensive way of flavoring the rice, you can put a truffle in it. A fresh-bought truffle should be good for a couple of weeks if stored in the refrigerator in a paper towel. I don't live in Italy and almost none of the e-Gullet members do either. Thus we are more or less interested in what is available nation-wide and in a state of mobility rather than how it might be if we were condemend to live in a place in either country. You are probably right in that there are more diverse culinary gradations from region to region in France than in Italy, but you hear it time after time that for everyday eating Italy is best. I also think that you would not want to eat day after day in Alsatian, Auvergnat, Midi, Pyrenees, and possibly even Brittany restaurants either. I don't think the menus are any more diverse in Nice than in Turin, as well. Now Paris versus Milan or Rome is a different story, but that's about being cosmopolitan rather than generic.

Steve, it's nice to be able to breathe a sigh of relief. I thought there was a sign on top of a lamp post on the main drag for the Miramonte. I am sorry you missed it. These "minor" Catholic holidays have hung me up numerous times in Europe. It's usually All Saints Day or Ascension Day. I always forget when they are and what they mean. Christ rising to Heaven I gues is the latter. "Toussaint" is French for "All Saints", but I can't remember what the holiday represents. But I don;t know all the "minor" Jewish ones either: Succoth, Shavuos (sp.), etc. Speaking of Italian regional restaurants, I think the Tuscan ones have a lot less variety than the Piemontese ones. However, I think you inadvertently wrote something that runs contrary to your sentiment. The fact that you can drive 45 miles and come upon a highly different cuisine is what makes gastronomic touring in Italy so special. If you drive5-6 miles north of Ventimiglia into the hills and dine at Gastone's in Dolceaqua, I don't think you will see much, if any, fish or seafood on the menu; rather frogs, rabbit, meat pastas,etc. What well-defined area of regional France offers the quality and variety of restaurants that Piedmont does? Cote d'Azur maybe some of the year? But what else?

Roger, when did you visit the French Laundry? Based on what I have been able to piece together, there is a tiny bit of evidence to suggest that given that Keller has something to do with a brasserie in town, is starting a bakery, opening a restaurant in New York, and going ahead with an inn associated with the current restaurant, this may be changing the character of the flagship restaurant. It would not be the first time. As I am not privy to the financing aspect of Keller's projects, (perhaps there is some kind of capital conservation going on) I could not possibly say. Someone suggested to me that the level of generosity has dropped, which to me is usually a tell-tale sign that cost reduction is cutting across all aspects. It's generally what I wrote near the end of my original post. I have been a lot more regaled in many other restaurants. Perhaps FL's regaling clients more in the past is a primary reason why people who dined there some years ago have kept good memories of it.

Nick, I never fenced anything in my life. You actually raised a point that I have been tempted to raise on the boards: How chefs perceive the dining experience from the point of view of a diner. I am sure you are a great judge of cuisine and would be great to be with on a busman's holiday. You recall in me an anecdote worth sharing: I once recommended Pierre Gagnaire's restaurant in St. Etienne to a poster artist friend who ended up making a poster for it. All of us then got together for a meal there and also went to Alain Chapel for lunch the next day. When we received our first "amuse guele" in Chapel's bar, I asked Gagnaire what he thought was in it or how it was made.His answer was that he just wanted to enjoy it. I have my interpretation; but Nick, what do you think he meant even if the answer is rather obvious. Are you the same way? Awbrig, you got a deal. All I have to do is figure out when I'll next be in Chicago, a city I have been to one time overnight. Jinmyo, if you're right, they'll be looking for me in either Yountville or New York. Thanks for your kind sentiments. Liz, it is experiences like yours that make me want to give the FL another try.

Did we ever find out what happened to Britchky? FG was supposed to work on it. Remember?

Steve, I can't tell if my reputation is still intact.

Sng, thanks for the wonderful report. It's a coincidence of sorts what you say about median restaurants as just a few days ago I e-mailed Bux about what I call my "unwashed middle theory"; i.e. that for the most successful dining you patronize the small number of highly interesting chefs and those restaurants that prepare timeless food well while avoiding the great unwashed middle. I said to Bux that Paris was an ideal city to practice this. Bux went to Le Lion d'Or. We went a few times in the 1980s. I'm glad it is still good. Thanks for the tip about Chateau Gilly. I never went there. Isn't it the place where you turn to go to Saulieu?

NIck, no it wasn't, but another part of the server could well be.

JD, that was a great write-up. I am glad you liked La Cave and hope we can spend many happy meals there. My wife doesn't like me to eat tripe, but you made it sound as if they are worth fighting over. I can also recommend the tomato tarte and the saddle of lamb. I have only been once, but you can be sure it will be my first lunch the next time I am in Nice.

Steve, that was great reading and of great practical interest to those of us who enjoy dining in Piedmont. I'm short of time now, but I look forward to adding more in the next day or two. I think you made out quite well; perhaps even better than in just about any well-defined region of provincial France. And you have to admit that the wine drinking is terrific any way you look at it. I never took note of the difference between lunches and dinners. Perhaps you have a point that I can now be cognizant of when I am over there next month. Peter Rodgers and I are no doubt both disappointed that Guido wasn't up to snuff. Were you able to figure out who in the family is going where? Peter said that Lydia was retiring, Ugo was opening his own restaurant and that Piero and Adriano were going to the Relais San Maurizio. Maybe it was playing out the string, family strife, whatever. I am still going to stick with it, however. I'm glad you scored well in the wine dept. at da Giacomo. At least if you crap on a restaurant I have been touting a lot on the boards, you will have at least drunk well. Welcome back.

Thanks to all those so far who have put up with my dyed-in-the-wool contrariness. It took me quite a while to write the post, so your kind remarks are something I really appreciate. Since my purpose was to stick to my perceptions of the meal, I hope I didn't give the impression that I may have had a lousy time. In fact we all had a most fun time celebrating my wife's daughter's birthday on the day itself. I am anxious to return and when I do, I hope I can try a wider range of dishes (there were two that I omitted from my report, one of which the birthday girl's friend ordered and that I really didn't get a chance to taste). I know that Lizziee and Nick Gatti, among others, really enjoyed their meals there, and I hate to express a contrary opinion with a professional chef and an amateur (in the best sense) gastronomic traveler as Keller partisans. Steve, I have never been to Trotter's. Awbrig, have you been to the French Laundry? Alas, I didn't take photos (but I enjoy yours). I did record some of the sounds including the bit about the Japanese cepes being marinated in France.

To a lifelong Europhile like me, a first-time whirlwind trip to Napa Valley was about as I imagined it would be. The concept of an American version of Burgundy, Piedmont, and, I can only imagine, the Rheinpfalz, is wonderful to see in action. Going into wineries with their dedicated tasting rooms where everyone speaks English and that are user-friendly or unintimidating with their down-to-earth wine servers knowledgeable in the wine-tasting lingo, is not to be taken lightly. Contrast this to tasting in Piedmont or Burgundy where the winemakers may or may not speak English and tasting wine is just as apt to take place in someone’s office, kitchen, or cellar. Of course the Burgundians or Piemontese would never charge a specific price for a specified number of tastings, but then you would not feel obligated to purchase a bottle or two either. Since I went just as the harvesting was concluding, I missed the hordes of tourists that I hear jam the roads, wineries, and hotels during the summer. In other words, I caught the crush of the grapes instead of the crush of the tourists. Having only traveled the main highway from Yountville to just short of Calestoga, then back to Yountville on one of the parallel backroads, I didn’t get to see very much of Northern California wine country; but unless there is a dramatic change of landscape between Calestoga and Alexander, Sonoma, and Mendocino territory I would have to say that the Lange hills (which comprise Barolo, Barbaresco, and Asti, to name a few of their wine landmarks), Chianti, and Montelcino have a breathtaking, highly-defined natural beauty I did not see in my quick visit through the Valley. It goes without saying that no sane person would go from Los Angeles to Yountville or beyond to spend but a couple of hours before dinner poking around such gastronomic hallowed ground. Yet my reason for being there was somewhat different from going to winemakers, but gastronomic nonetheless: It was to satisfy nearly a decade-old bit of curiosity called “Dining at the French Laundry”. To say that our expectations should be anything other than high would mean something akin to living in the middle of Papua New Guinea. No American restaurant has accumulated a bigger mystique, had its owner-chef as lauded, and been so difficult to obtain a reservation than the French Laundry. Several of the gastronomes I respect the most said that the restaurant provided them with the best meal they have had in the United States and that it competed favorably with many they had had in France. However since some of these assessments were now dated and that more recent ones on the various eGullet French Laundry threads were less than laudatory, I was able to temper my expectations, or perhaps I had no preconceived notions at all other than wondering in what ways the French Laundry could be so different than American, or even international, restaurants that are highly-revered. . From the point at which we tasted our amuse-bouche until we finished the first course from the Chef’s Tasting Menu, I was unquestionably in league with the French Laundry partisans. The renown salmon tartare and red onion crème fraiche “tuile” cone was both witty in conception and a wonderful way to arouse the palate between the saltiness of the roe, the crunch of the tuile, and the creaminess of the crème fraiche. Even better, in fact way better-indeed so monumental that you could call it a Fountain of Youth for jaded palates- was today’s most famous dish by an American-born chef: Sabayon of Pearl Tapioca with Malpeque Oysters and Osetra Caviar, simply referred to as “Oysters and Pearls”. As described by Lizziee in a previous thread, the dish is “milk-softened tapioca strained with oyster trimmings and more milk and cream, which is further mixed with an oyster infused sabayon that is again mixed with creme fraiche and whipped cream and then placed in an even layer in a gratin dish. The sauce is a reduction of vermouth, oyster juice, shallots, vinegar and butter. The tapioca mixture is warmed in the gratin dish, oysters are added, sauce is spooned over all and a scoop of caviar is added for garnish.” To my wife, the creation was “a luxurious warm salt bath for the palate”; for me it brought back almost forgotten memories of eating in the best country restaurants of France many years ago when the intense flavor of a certain sauce would stop me dead in my tracks; and for my wife’s daughter, the Oysters and Pearls became an exercise in literally scraping every last vestige of the sabayon from her plate while lamenting that the portion was so small. Then, minutes later, something completely unexpected started to happen: From a purely gustatory standpoint, our meal began to unravel. From the “Oysters and Pearls” until the dessert nothing we tasted transcended, at best, the mediocre. While my wife was especially ecstatic over a pan-seared fillet of Atlantic halibut whose skin was crisped to a golden hue and the flesh of which was perfectly cooked, the kitchen used some unannounced truffle oil and tiny bits of Perigord truffles that had been preserved and had nothing left in them, or to them, to add to the flavor. A foie gras dish with an overly sweet Anjou pear relish carrying a $20.00 supplement to the $135.00 Chef’s Tasting Menu and that had the Hudson Valley provenance lacked the soft, buttery richness of its French counterpart. Pieces of poached Maine lobster with an “emince” of sweet carrots, green leeks and a saffron-infused tomato butter was ordinary, but what was inexcusable was including the rubbery tip of the claw when so few pieces were put forth as part of such an expensive menu. What we enjoyed most about the pieces of farmed capon with “cepe” mushrooms, English thyme and green lemon was the young “stagier” who told us that the cepes were “Japanese mushrooms that had been marinated in France”. The dish itself had been left sitting in or under a heat source with the result that both the meat had dried out and the sauce had congealed. The final meat dish, a pan-roasted “Chateaubriand” of nature-fed veal with caramelized fennel risotto and farm figs from Yountville suffered from a less-than-tender piece of meat that was a far cry from baby veal from the Limousin or the mountains around Cuneo. If there was one dish that pointed out what we recognized by this point as a certain lack of integrity in the operation was the unexciting cheese course described as “St.Nectaire, Savoy Cabbage ‘Cole Slaw’ and Grain Mustard Vinaigrette”. Its inclusion in the meal raised a few interesting questions: Why was there no “plateau des fromages” offered on a $135.00 menu? Why did Keller use a sliver of a variety of French cheese whose superior raw-milk, “fermier” version is not allowed in the United States, but nonetheless proceed to overwhelm it with cabbage and mustard?; And why was there no recognition of any of the dedicated cheese makers from the Napa Valley region who are making many interesting varieties and collectively could comprise a noteworthy, indeed a knowledge-imparting, cheese tray? The two desserts on the tasting menu, “Frog Hollow Peach Sorbet with a Toasted Almond ‘Financier’ and a “ ‘Chiboust a la Vanille’ with a Chocolate ‘Marquise’ and Chocolate Syrup” were up to the standards of a fine restaurant, although the second dessert hid the complexities in making it that our waiter spelled out for us. We made sure to have one of us substitute the “Chiboust” with the French Laundry dessert that is as famous as the salmon tartare tuile and the “Oysters and Pearls”: the cinnamon donuts with a coffee semifreddo known as “Coffee and Doughnuts”. As a vehicle for bringing together gastronomy and linguistics in a clever way, it worked fine. From a purely gustatory standpoint, it struck us as being exactly as it was described and an overly sweet way to finish the meal. The “mignardises” served after were small in number. As are most restaurants without a long history, the wine list comprises almost all bottles that are too young to drink, not age-worthy, or can be consumed either now or in several years. Most are overpriced. Nonetheless, thanks to the assistant sommelier, we did well in terms of both quality and price (each wine was a bit under $100.00) with a 1997 Chassagne-Montrachet “Morgeot” from Lequin Roussot and a 1997 Pommard whose vineyard and producer escape me. Service had its ups and downs. Our welcome typified what is becoming increasingly common: My name was not on the computerized reservation list, with the result that the rather officious fellow with a British accent made us feel like those onerous people without reservations who try to talk their way into a hot restaurant. Once seated, however, our waiter Kevin, who has been at the French Laundry since it opened, was marvelously attentive and informative. For whatever reason, however, the assistant sommelier taking care of our wine service disappeared after pouring the first glasses of our second wine, never to be seen again if you don’t count my sighting of him on the floor above as I went to the men’s room. Because no one picked up the slack, we poured the rest of the bottle ourselves. What disappointed me more than, or beyond, the food and the uneven service were the implications for the state of American chefs and cuisine that emanate from what arguably is this country’s most talked about and influential chef and restaurant. I was unable to detect or ascertain what the French Laundry was doing to advance the cause of restaurant gastronomy in America. Unlike Keller’s compatriot a bit further south, Alice Waters, I saw no overt championing of local or regional produce, at least in terms of putting together names and places. In the execution of the dishes, I could not sense a feeling for “gourmandness” or the love of eating. The tiny portions that drive the conception of each dish preclude the grandiosity and the bringing to the table (often with special skill) of the whole product. (As I remarked to my wife on the flight back to New York, the expression “ the nearer to the bone, the sweeter the meat” is never applicable in the French Laundry type of restaurant since such places do not like to serve anything with bones). More off-putting, however, is that these effete, precious little “menu” creations first give off the impression of not being adroitly cooked but manhandled and assembled; second, are based on a hoped-for fortuitous meshing of disparate ingredients instead of drawing out profound flavor from the principle ingredient; and, third, are built from the top down as opposed to the bottom up. After the salmon tartar cones and the Oysters and Pearls, nothing tasted as if it came from anywhere beyond the imagination of a chef having, charitably speaking, an off night. (In fact, Keller was off that night to Anaheim for the second game of the World Series. But so what, I figured: Once work starts on his New York French Laundry, the clients in Yountville will not be seeing him for very many nights either). The food was, to put it another way, cuisine’s adaptation of Gertrude Stein’s “There is no there there.” The only plausible or conceivable explanation for our lackluster visit was the absence of three key people that Sunday night (Thomas Keller, the head sommelier Bobby Stuckey and Larry, the assistant general manager). Nonetheless, even if the restaurant were fully staffed and I had been treated as a regular or a celebrity, there was no way the general level of cooking was going to miraculously get better just for the four of us. Yet, I am not so arrogant to write off the French Laundry, given its overall professionalism and bursts of culinary brilliance, to the point of never giving it another go. Nonetheless I have a nagging suspicion that like so many other grand restaurants, those calling the shots there are reducing food costs, getting by with fewer employees and devoting their time to finding ways outside of the kitchen to increase the value of their investments or net worth. My guess is that the French Laundry has seen its best days, but having discovered the pearl in the oyster, Thomas Keller need not be overly concerned about that.

Margaret and Singapore, thanks so much for the first-hand info. Singapore, where else did you go? Margaret too.

Am I right to say that the concept works well in London (Mark Birley comes to mind), but not in New York as the guy who took over the former premises of the Gibbon on E. 80th St offers proof of? What's for sure is that Bruno has the right surname for a venture destined for failure.

Tomorrow is fine. Im not leaving for almost six weeks, but would like to nail down reservations. Thanks so much. Do people call you Maggie?