Mix (with Doug Psaltis as chef de cuisine)

Fat Guy · October 24, 2003

Is Ducasse known to be arrogant and/or condescending?

Nobody who has met him would ever say that about him -- indeed, he has earned the right to be arrogant and condescending but he is not -- but he sucks at media relations. There was an adversarial dynamic set up very early in the pre-opening process, not least because Ducasse announced that there would be no preferential treatment for media. That's not something that affects Grimes, because the New York Times tends to operate above that level of favoritism and quid pro quo, but it contributed to the overall hostile media environment. Also contributing was the stark relief into which ADNY cast all the high-turnover operations in New York at the time even at the four-star level. He was single-handedly creating a new category of restaurant, he was not shy about saying so, and people resented it. People also believed that the food Ducasse was serving wasn't as good as ADPA or as good as it needed to be to justify the prices. I directly disagreed with that assessment at the time and I still do, but that's more a matter of opinion than fact. Nonetheless, it's hard not to think that the widespread predisposition to hate Ducasse influenced a lot of people's judgment early on, when the place was widely condemned not only just after it opened but also before it ever served a dish.

Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Daniel Boulud, Nobu, and others do have multiple restaurants. But they don't seem to embody the phenomenon in the way Ducasse does. One reason for that is that Ducasse is totally up front about it. If you talk to Vongerichten or Boulud, they will emphasize how much time they do spend in the kitchen, they will essentially engage in the kind of spin control you need to engage in when you level with people about the fact that the chef isn't cooking your dinner. Whereas Ducasse is like, "Uh, the chef doesn't cook your dinner. I hire good people to do that and I trust them, and I hire other people to supervise those people and I trust them too. It's a hierarchy. I'm an executive. This is a business. Deal with it. Get real. Go away." Also, Jean-Georges et al. are playing for the home team. They have earned their acceptance locally and nationally. Ducasse is an interloper and he's starting at the top -- totally different dynamic.

Bux · October 24, 2003

I always thought Ducasse's main problem coming into NYC, and which perhaps led to Grimes not liking him, was the general perception that he was "looking down" on New Yorkers and the NYC restaurant scene when he arrived. NYC can justifiably be counted among the very best restaurant cities in the world, and somehow the idea went around long before ADNY opened that Ducasse was of the opinion he would be gracing NYC diners with a level of cooking they had never seen before, and that to a certain extent he could get away with "cooking down to them" and yet still impress them with high prices and meaningless flourishes because he would be casting pearls before swine. I'm sure much of this was undeserved, but something must have happened to create that impression. Is Ducasse known to be arrogant and/or condescending?

I don't think any chef could have been more flattering to the taste-buds of this city than Ducasse was at the time. I suspect you will find references to his flattering comments in old threads about the opening of AD/NY. Understand that Ducasse ran two three star restaurants in Monte Carlo and Paris where much of his clientele was American. Ducasse is French, not arrogant. To some Americans there's no difference. Ducasse didn't come in wearing a cloak of arrogance, it was hung on him by some journalists playing to a audience who would never spend that kind of money on any food or care about that kind of food.

My only criticism of AD/NY was of the choices of knives and pens offered the diners. I found that pretentious and last night my view was challenged by a French chef here in NY who defended those gestures by saying he thought Ducasse thought NY was such an important market that he had to create something new and different and better for us. I'm afraid most of us have learned the wrong lesson from The Emperor's New Clothes. We just tend to be suspicious of the foreign and the new.

slkinsey · October 24, 2003

Is Ducasse known to be arrogant and/or condescending?
Nobody who has met him would ever say that about him -- indeed, he has earned the right to be arrogant and condescending but he is not -- but he sucks at media relations. There was an adversarial dynamic set up very early in the pre-opening process, not least because Ducasse announced that there would be no preferential treatment for media. That's not something that affects Grimes, because the New York Times tends to operate above that level of favoritism and quid pro quo, but it contributed to the overall hostile media environment.

I think that, more than anything, is the crux of the problem.

Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Daniel Boulud, Nobu, and others do have multiple restaurants. But they don't seem to embody the phenomenon in the way Ducasse does. One reason for that is that Ducasse is totally up front about it. If you talk to Vongerichten or Boulud, they will emphasize how much time they do spend in the kitchen, they will essentially engage in the kind of spin control you need to engage in when you level with people about the fact that the chef isn't cooking your dinner.

Hmmm... interesting. I could swear I read/saw an article or interview on JGF in which he specifically said that one of the strengths of his style is that it is very precise (exactly so much of spice A, so much of herb B, etc.) and so he could ensure with relative ease that his dishes would turn out exactly as he wanted them without his presence so long as the cooks followed his instructions to the letter.

Fat Guy · October 24, 2003

Sam, read here: http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/food/i...647/index2.html

Start with: "Do I really want to believe . . ." and read for three paragraphs.

slkinsey · October 24, 2003

Sam, read here: http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/food/i...647/index2.html
Start with: "Do I really want to believe . . ." and read for three paragraphs.

Yes... I understand perfectly that these chefs can't be in the kitchen all the time and I don't particularly care if they are or not, as long as the quality and inventiveness are there... I was just responding to the whole "corporatization of the restaurant business at the haute cuisine level" thing. It seems to me that most of the top guys are pursuing this model every bit as much as Ducasse. Bouley, I note, is the only one who claims to do any actual cooking.

This is getting a bit OT, but I wonder how long this has been the case in the restaurant business... where one person is the chef of multiple restaurants, perhaps in multiple cities. It can't have been for all that long.

FWIW... there do seem to be clear examples where the chef's lack of engagement in the kitchen has led to quality and consistency problems. Ouest comes immediately to mind, and obviously Rocco's is a prime example, if the television show is any indication.

Fat Guy · October 24, 2003

My point is that most everybody is engaging in all this spin control -- they don't claim to do the cooking, but they try to make a case for hands-on involvement -- whereas Ducasse just busts out with that priceless line, "I have a very modern way of thinking. The chef is there to lead the team and not just to sit behind the piano."

And yes, there are plenty of examples of chefs whose work suffers when they don't spend time in the kitchen, just as in any delegated corporate model there are going to be problems if you over-delegate to people who can't handle the work. But that's not Ducasse's problem. He's the guy who wrote the book on how to get three Michelin stars simultaneously at two restaurants. His restaurants don't change at all if he's there or if he's not there, because they're designed from the ground up to work that way.

This is, as Ducasse and you both say, a modern phenomenon. And that -- combined with the blatant capitalism of the model -- is what pisses so many people off. It's a direct challenge to the romantic notion of the chef as cook, or at least as perfectionist who sniffs and prods every dish before it goes out to the dining room. It represents the acceptance of an unpleasant reality: that a restaurant is a business, and that it's actually not all that different than any other business. And restaurants are, of course, their own worst enemies in this regard, because part of what they do is proactively sell the fantasy that a restaurant isn't a business.

Pan · October 24, 2003

What's unpleasant about the reality that a restaurant is a business - or at least, why is that more unpleasant than the fact that there's an economy based on money in the first place? Anyone who's honest will admit that they always knew restaurants were businesses. They serve you and you pay them. They use the money they receive from diners to pay their bills and make a profit. So what are they, charitable foundations? As long as you get value for your money, what's there to object to?

Fat Guy · October 24, 2003

Beats the hell out of me. I've got no problem with it. I'm much more concerned about the fact that my medical doctor is a businessman than I am about Ducasse wanting to charge me money for food. But society has various blind spots regarding commerce, and restaurants -- especially haute cuisine restaurants -- inhabit one of those blind spots.

But the reality is that Ducasse is not a profiteering opportunist -- not that there's anything wrong with that as long as you cook good food. Rather, Ducasse is an idealist. He doesn't need any more money, and he has already achieved whatever a reasonable person would ever want to achieve in one lifetime -- a hundred years from now, Ducasse and Adria will probably be the only two turn-of-this-century chefs that anyone remembers; the Careme and Escoffier of this era. The problem is, Ducasse's ideals are very corporate and capitalistic. I think this may very well be pissing people off more than a plain vanilla desire to make lots of money would. I mean, nobody hates Wolfgang Puck for having a zillion restaurants that suck. People are just like, wow, that guy really wants to make a lot of money. Ducasse, on the other hand, is a visionary and his vision goes against the whole bullshit concept of the role of the chef that people desperately want to maintain.

Pan · October 24, 2003

Sounds like a hill of beans to me.

By the way, how sure are all of us that New York Times Dining Section readers wouldn't find an article about how restaurant heirarchies are organized and function interesting? I think some of their readers would indeed find that interesting.

Felonius · October 25, 2003

I paid my first visit to Mix yesterday. I had lunch at the bar, so I can't say I've seen the whole show. However, I still don't see why Grimes made such a big deal about Mix's approach. The Mix menu might indeed be difficult to understand if you're accustomed only to chowing at the all-you-can-eat seafood buffet, but c'mon Grimes, this a high end restaurant in NYC. The glass dishes may be a bit more difficult to eat out of, but offer some beautiful presentations (more on that later). Yes the space is rather trendy, but I assume that one of the main goals of the restaurant is to offer Ducasse food in a more fun, vibrant and casual atmosphere than ADNY or his other venues in France. I'm usually not big on "concept" restaurants either, but this has more to do with the fact that most of them use novel concepts/themes to cover for mediocre food and high prices (Tao anyone?). I've only had one meal, but I am already fairly certain this is NOT the case at Mix. My lunch was superb, and in my opinion the Ducasse showmanship didn't detract from the experience.

I ordered the following:

Glazed shrimp with eggplant - Outstanding. The sweet stewed eggplant was a fascinating counterpoint to the tangy glazed shrimp. It all would have been a bit too uniform in texture for me, had it not been for the crunchy toasts poised in between the layers. I thought the clear serving dish added to the presentation by showing the layered elements more clearly.

Elbow macaroni with butter, ham and truffles - Yum! Very satisfying comfort food. I wasn't quite as thrilled as Grimes though. I thought a bit more truffle and ham might have worked better. Good, but not as interesting as the shrimp app. I liked the presentation in a big pot. This concentrated the savory aromas and kept everything warm and gooey long enough to finish it off.

Raspberries with rose ice cream - My favorite of the three dishes. The presentation is just stunning. A dollop of pinkish ice cream supported by a large red rose petal, on a bed of perfect raspberries and layers of coulis and a crunchy crust. Good contrast in textures and flavors. The glass dish allows for the layered effect to be better appreciated, and in a way the dish disappears leaving only the glorious dessert. I thought this dish hit the mark in terms of artful simplicity, allowing the natural flavors to hold their own. The rose ice cream was an interesting touch, though not nearly as pungent at Grimes mentions in his review. One of the waitstaff told me that the rose ice cream had indeed been toned down due to "comments from a few diners". I actually thought the ice cream might have been better with more rose essence, but perhaps this would overpower the raspberries. I only hope that this was changed because the chef thought it needed fine tuning - not because Grimes compared it to his "grandmother's handbag". Grimes ought to stop and smell the roses more often I think, because I can't believe he didn't find great pleasure in such a poetic and delicious dessert. What aromas in the world can beat those of fresh raspberries or a rose in full bloom?

Service was excellent during my visit. Everyone made me feel welcome, and the manager stopped by for a friendly chat when he noticed I was dining alone at the bar. I like the comfort food concept and the option of sampling Ducasse's cuisine in a more casual atmosphere. I disagree with Grimes that "a little less fun" would be better. If I want super serious, I can go to ADNY. If I want fun, I now have Mix. Now if only I could win the lottery to pay for it all.....

Count me in as a fan of both ADNY and Mix. I hope there are many more fans out there. We're lucky to have both as a part of the NYC food scene. As a first impression, I'd give Mix 3 stars.

And by the way, Alain Ducasse was there in the flesh yesterday.

Edited October 25, 2003 by Felonius (log)

Fat Guy · October 25, 2003

And by the way, Alain Ducasse was there in the flesh yesterday.

Did you talk to him?

I would strongly suggest that if any of you run into Ducasse at one of his restaurants, you walk right up and tell him exactly what you think about his restaurants and about Grimes's reviews. It's very important, in my opinion, for Ducasse to hear as often as possible that not all New Yorkers adhere to the reductionist thinking in that review or in the reviews of ADNY. Mention eGullet while you're at it -- I'd be interested to know if he's heard of us. And if he hasn't, tell him about it -- mention my involvement as well, since he probably at least knows my name (given how much I've written about him, if he doesn't know my name, I suck!). He's not going to say much -- he's shy about speaking in English -- but he'll listen and understand everything you say, and he's quite approachable. Tell him you think Grimes has the restaurant-reviewer's equivalent of the genius-without-turbot problem -- that'll get his attention.

Felonius · October 25, 2003

No I didn't talk to him. He was engaged in conversation with several people at the front of the house, and the timing wasn't appropriate. He left with a tall and attractive blonde woman. :smile:

Bux · October 25, 2003

What's unpleasant about the reality that a restaurant is a business - or at least, why is that more unpleasant than the fact that there's an economy based on money in the first place? Anyone who's honest will admit that they always knew restaurants were businesses. They serve you and you pay them. They use the money they receive from diners to pay their bills and make a profit. So what are they, charitable foundations? As long as you get value for your money, what's there to object to?

I've not talked to, or even met, Ducasse, but my guess is that he has as much passion for food and puts as much love into his restaurants as that mythical arepa lady on the corner in Queens. And the reason she's there is to earn a living the best way she knows how. She didn't give up a career as an investment banker or rock star to sell food on a street corner.

Bux · October 25, 2003

And by the way, Alain Ducasse was there in the flesh yesterday.

This doesn't surprise me a bit. According to my source, although it's his nature not to put trust in anyone he's not sure can handle the job, he's most likely to oversee a new restaurant quite closely. For someone who comes across as a corporate executive, you'd be surprised at how highly respected he is as a chef's chef. I'm just surprised at how much attention Grimes gets as an impartial observer of a business he stays far enough away from to remain unknowledgeable about, but then both he and the Times may know their audience.

Felonius · October 25, 2003

She didn't give up a career as an investment banker or rock star to sell food on a street corner.

I have it on good authority that the Arepa lady used to trade South American distressed debt at Goldman Sachs. Then the Arepas called....

robert40 · October 26, 2003

The link for the Mix review in New York Mag. is still not working but if you go to the home page and do a search for Mix it will come up.

Wish I could say its good, but its not.

RR

Felonius · October 26, 2003

Thanks for the New York Mag info. Just read the review, and it couldn't have been much worse. Looks like Ducasse is in for another round of spankings from the New York food critic set. It's fitting that the review opens with a snide comment about those fancy pens at ADNY.

Bux · October 27, 2003

Thanks for the New York Mag info. Just read the review, and it couldn't have been much worse. Looks like Ducasse is in for another round of spankings from the New York food critic set. It's fitting that the review opens with a snide comment about those fancy pens at ADNY.

Gael Greene on AD/NY: Well, we have always had this little problem with the French. Remember that first trip to Paris? How they made us feel like boobs. So no surprise: On opening day, the alligators slithered into Ducasse's gaudy rose-gold-black brocade banquettes. The porcupines tensed their quills as they nibbled the $160 prix fixe.

Adam Platt on Mix: Now comes Alain Ducasse, a chef famous for presenting his patrons with hyperstylized pens and lollipops and charging them $250 per meal.

It appears that in an earlier version of this post, I inadvertently blamed Gael Greene for the Mix review. That required some editing of my post. I applogize for my haste. I thank Fat Guy for noticing the error.

Right. Like a middle eastern version of morality. Screw 'em and for the rest of their life, call them dishonored for the act. Ducasse is famous for dedication to great food in certain informed circles, even if not in Mr. Platt's. I value negative reviews and appreciate warnings about places that offer poor value, but I don't enjoy hatchet jobs where the review seems to express such glee in negativity.

This is not a middle class restaurant. It certainly deserves close scrutiny. The three course meal is more expensive than what you'd pay at Oceana, Cafe Boulud and most three star restaurants in NY. It's an easy target, even for a publication with a readership in an upper income bracket. It's a pity the mass market doesn't get to read the same kinds of reviews about restaurants as it does about painting and sculture. Image an art critic focusing on the price of a painting we all can't afford or dismissing its innovations without some intellectual consideration. Everytime I begin to get a sense I'm getting reliable information from this review, I come across a statement like this--"... made with an overly busy, Eurocentric mixture of ham, butter, and black truffles.--which leave me feeling as if the reviewer and I grew up on two different planets and hers didn't support a hydrocarbon life system. Yikes, gag me with a spoon, or if you please, with a large helping of butter, truffles and ham.

PS

There’s also a bizarrely insubstantial floating island (which seems to have been spattered with bits of candy cane),

I've not had this, but it sounds remarkably similar to the floating island at Aux Lyonnaise in Paris where I had Tarte et île flottante aux pralines roses, but with rose ice cream replacing the red praline pie. I'm not sure if the bits in the floating island were bits of candied rose petals or pralines roses. In all honesty, I've not been a fan of the red candy that's traditional to Lyon, but I thoroughly enjoyed all aspects of this dessert in Paris a couple of weeks ago. Alain Ducasse is now a part owner of this long standing bistro in Paris. Prices there are quite reasonable. Three course dinner ran 38 euros without beverages. Ducasse's involvement apparently stems from his interest in preserving France's culinary heritage. His dedication to the culinary arts is poorly represented by New York Magazine's writers. Edited October 27, 2003 by Bux (log)

Fat Guy · October 27, 2003

Bux, isn't the current inane review by Adam Platt? I don't think Gael is still writing reviews for New York Magazine.

bloviatrix · October 27, 2003

Just read Platt's review in New York. Man, that guy has a bug up his ass. It seems the use of snark has moved from book reviews to restaurant reviews.

Bux · October 27, 2003

Bux, isn't the current inane review by Adam Platt? I don't think Gael is still writing reviews for New York Magazine.

I stand corrected. The current inane review is by Adam Platt. Thanks for pointing that out.

Fat Guy · October 28, 2003

Mix is fun.

If you don't like fun, don't go to Mix. If you don't like fun restaurants, don't go to Mix. If your exclusive idea of culinary fun is going to La Caravelle at 6:30pm and sitting all night with a Dover sole and a $2,000 bottle of wine, don't go to Mix.

There are a lot of people for whom Mix simply is not the right restaurant, including, it seems, the major New York City restaurant reviewers: William Grimes of The New York Times advocates "a little less fun." Adam Platt of New York Magazine calls it "busyness on a grand Euro-centric scale." And rumor has it that died-in-the-wool Alain-Ducasse-hater Gael Greene (who doesn't even like Ducasse's restaurant in Paris), no longer having access to the reviewer's podium at New York Magazine, wrote an off-the-record review of her own, scribbling "POOR" across her check when she dined there during the restaurant's first week.

With these assessments, the current crop of New York restaurant reviewers continues to express its collective literary death wish and to further its descent into irrelevance, further expanding the vacuum for Zagat to fill. Because every night at Mix, there they are: people, customers, readers -- sophisticated, well-heeled, young, experienced restaurant-goers . . . having fun. And if restaurant reviewers fail to speak to them, they'll seek other sources.

Mix is cool.

Ducasse understands that to fill a restaurant you don't need to appeal to everybody in the world. Indeed, if you try to be all things to all people, your restaurant will most likely either fail or be totally generic and safe. His restaurants are focused, and Mix is for a certain audience, also known as the in crowd. Setting aside the tiny subculture of hardcore gastronomes, who will seek out good food with near-complete disregard for everything else, the reality is that most core customers of Ducasse's upscale French restaurant (Alain Ducasse at the Essex House, also called ADNY for short) won't enjoy Mix, and vice-versa.

Examine the Mix and ADNY dining rooms on any given night -- they're practically across the street from one another; I just did it -- and you won't have trouble identifying what is probably a 30-year difference in average age of clientele. There are also obvious differences in style: Mix is a quick bite; it's not likely that the average meal will last more than 90 minutes or, at the outside, two hours. Mix is a party: it's energetic, music is playing, people are speaking loudly. It's a cool place. Whereas nobody will ever accuse you of being cool for dining at ADNY. There is, however, one respect in which Mix is a kindred spirit of ADNY:

Mix serves great food.

Not just good food. Great food. Ducasse food. Food that makes you sit up and take notice. Dishes that are the best of their kind. I've been dining out quite a bit this past month at several of the good places around town -- including a couple with four New York Times stars. And what I remember is dish after dish at the now-two-star restaurant, Mix.

Upscale versions of comfort food classics are nothing new, nor is it a surprise to see the haute cuisine process applied to most any dish from any culture. But Ducasse's quiet authority and incredible focus make the food at Mix seem as though it represents a new direction in food. And in a sense it does. To date, nobody has put these kinds of resources behind the project of refining comfort food. There are 90 seats at Mix. There are 100 employees. The kitchen looks as though it's the size of a tennis court, with Molteni stoves and quietly busy line cooks as far as the eye can see. Ingredients are at the same extraordinary level we've come to expect from Ducasse. The level of technique is on par with that being practiced in the city's four-star kitchens (as are the prices, almost).

Ducasse's kitchen team, headed by his American protégé Douglas Psaltis -- a real New Yorker of Greek and Jewish ancestry -- would be the envy of most any kitchen, anywhere in the world. Not to mention, Mix has a kitchen brigade of 15 experienced professional cooks, serving approximately 200 covers a night. That's almost double the staffing you'd see even at some places with four stars. Indeed, it seems rather obvious that had Psaltis simply opened a restaurant like Mix in a vacuum -- in other words without Ducasse being part of the picture -- he would now be a media darling, the universally declared next big thing, and Mix would have three New York Times stars.

Mix's clam chowder, which I've now enjoyed twice, is the best I've ever had by a significant margin. I can't stop thinking about it. Finally, I had to break down and ask Psaltis what the hell he was doing to make it so good. "It's very traditional and typical," he said. Yeah, right. Upon cross examination, he revealed more than a few differences between Mix's clam chowder and what you'd get at Legal Seafood. Mix uses a combination of razor clams, little necks, cockles, and manila clams. The various components of the chowder -- such as the potato, onion, and celery mixture -- are cooked separately. When it comes time to serve the dish, a cook heats up a portion of the chowder base, thins it with clam juice (from the aforesaid clams), and mixes in a puree of geoduck clam bellies. Vegetables and bacon are added at the end, and the whole thing is served with -- get this -- house-made oyster crackers, puffy, full of herbs, and still warm. Yes, very traditional and typical.

The menu has been evolving rapidly and some of the new dishes I tried tonight represented what seems to be the next step of Mix's evolution towards even more advanced gastronomic technique and subtle interplay of flavors. A so-called shrimp salad is served in layers in a clear glass dish. On the bottom is a garlic royale (garlic is cooked in cream, pureed, and enhanced with milk and egg). The next layer is a citrus marmalade (grapefruit, orange, lemon, lime, and, surprisingly, olive oil). That's topped with fresh pink shrimp from the Gulf, tossed in crushed herbs and garlic. Dig down and eat everything together -- it will blow you away. There's also a similarly conceived dish available, a bluefin tuna salad, that's equally good.

The other dish I've been thinking of ever since I had it a few weeks ago was the Mix take on bison. I've never been a bison convert, and I'm probably still not. But this is a stellar dish, bison or otherwise. Two incredibly tender bison medallions -- they're tender both because they come that way and because they're poached -- are accompanied by the most wonderful garnish I've had in a long time: a parfait glass filled with little bits of meat (from the equivalent of a flatiron steak) that have been cooked into a bouillon and macerated in sherry vinegar. This mixture is topped with olive oil, old-fashioned mustard, julienne of fresh horseradish, and celery root. Then the bouillon (from the aforementioned meat) is reduced with gelatin sheets into a jelly and spooned over all that other stuff, and finally it's all topped with fleur-de-sel, crushed black pepper, and celery leaf.

Another new dish, just coming onto the menu, is duck cooked in the signature Ducasse style: sealed in a vacuum bag with seasonings and wet-cooked to a uniform medium-rare temperature throughout. The result is beautiful, as is the underlying female Pekin duck from Four Story Hill Farms in Pennsylvania (where Mix gets pork as well). The chunks of breast are topped with a mixture of orange zest, minced olives, bread crumbs, and brown butter. On the side, braised endives.

And tonight's special offering was gnocchi with veal cheeks and sweetbreads. Enough said.

Desserts have been improving as well. Some of the early cluelessness of the dessert concepts (rose ice cream is simply never going to sell to Americans, who associate the flavor with bath products) has given way to low-key, Mix-appropriate desserts like a deconstructed apple tarte tatin and what is essentially the same baba served across the street at ADNY, with a vanilla and lemon cream. The chocolate pizza, rapidly becoming a Mix signature, is pretty good -- but most of all it's fun.

I've sampled about 30 of the items from Mix's menu so far. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to recount them all. And there have a been a couple of duds: the American mac-and-cheese is boring; and the lobster dish still hasn't come together as something I'd actually want to eat. The kitchen is listening, though: Ducasse's media-imposed reputation as an arrogant culinary imperialist is directly contradicted by the seriousness with which he takes -- and acts quickly upon -- conscientious customer feedback. The restaurant is getting better at an alarming rate.

Mix is for real.

The Mix metaphor has been reduced, both in the press and in the spiel of the waitstaff, to "France meets New York." This is an unfortunate under-representation of what Mix is all about. The full name of the restaurant, Mix in New York, represents a philosophy: the culinary world; the past, present, and future; haute cuisine and comfort food; all coming together in the city of the 21st Century. The dining room, though it was clearly expensive to design, is in essence an empty box: painted brick walls encased in glass; a blank canvas.

The box is filled with funky booths and long communal tables designed by Patrick Jouin. It's filled with a multi-ethnic staff -- an Asian woman in a leather sommelier's apron; waiters of every race; all of them young and attractive. It's filled with happy customers. And of course it's filled with food and wine.

Then there are the little touches: video screens embedded in various out-of-the-way nooks and crannies, showing live feeds from Ducasse's kitchens; subtle rose-colored illumination, seemingly emanating from nowhere; the glass bar that changes colors throughout the day; the floor, lovingly transported plank by wooden plank from a recently shuttered railway station in France; the folding-X stainless carrier for displaying appetizers; the maple-handled steak knives from Al Dipold in Missouri; frightfully thin glass water tumblers and serving dishes (they must break a lot of them); the irresistibly stubby dessert silverware, modeled after a WMF pattern originally intended for children; the toilets that flush via ceiling-mounted chain; the Joseph Abboud uniforms; and the rich blood-orange-colored menus and other printed materials designed by Philippe David (they are, however, quite difficult to read in low light).

Are there problems with Mix? Hell yes. As sure as there are problems with any new restaurant, there are problems with Mix. Service, though dramatically improved between my visits, is still unsteady. The pastry program, though moving in the right direction, still needs work. The wine cellar needs more acquisitions. These are the kinds of things that any experienced diner (no less a full-time restaurant reviewer, who is supposed to be the experienced diner's experienced diner) can tell you will improve with time if a good team is already in place.

Is Mix completely to my tastes? Hell no. Even as someone who is smack dab in the middle of the target demographic -- I'm a 34-year-old New York native and a lawyer to boot -- I don't get everything. The silly English -- "Must of Mix" for the must-have specials, etc. -- has become an irritating Ducasse trademark on all his menus, newsletters, and such. I don't love the room. I don't love the music. But in the end, I don't really care. If you care, fine. But as a critic I don't see it as my job to care -- I'm not an architecture critic or a music critic; I write about food. And certainly, even if it's possible to really, really, really hate the music and the color of the menus, none of this can possibly justify the seemingly endless torrent of vitriol that gets unleashed on Ducasse every time he opens a new restaurant.

The revisionism will soon follow, as inevitably as it did in the wake of the misinformed and wrong-headed early condemnations of ADNY. The story will be told like this: Mix opened with sub-par food and too many gimmicks. After a series of bad reviews, the restaurant learned its lesson and fixed things up. Three stars.

Don't believe it. What you'll really be seeing is an attempt to hide yet another victory of Ducasse over the various forces arrayed against excellence. And the beneficiaries of that victory will be those who love good food.

Nearly two centuries ago, a Frenchman, Alexis de Tocqueville, showed us that it was possible for a foreigner to know America better than it knew itself. Today, another Frenchman, this time a chef, is continuing to demonstrate the renewing effect that outsiders can have on our culture: he may very well understand the tastes of New Yorkers better than we do. Surely, he understands them better than our increasingly extraneous local food press. A decade from now, we'll most likely have seen three more reviewers come and go from the Times. And a decade from now, Mix will most likely still be going strong. And I'll still be eating there.

Jason Perlow · October 28, 2003

I'm so there.

Suvir Saran · October 28, 2003

There are a lot of people for whom Mix simply is not the right restaurant, including, it seems, the major New York City restaurant reviewers: William Grimes of The New York Times advocates "a little less fun." Adam Platt of New York Magazine calls it "busyness on a grand Euro-centric scale." And rumor has it that died-in-the-wool Alain-Ducasse-hater Gael Greene (who doesn't even like Ducasse's restaurant in Paris), no longer having access to the reviewer's podium at New York Magazine, wrote an off-the-record review of her own, scribbling "POOR" across her check when she dined there during the restaurant's first week.

Is this about Mix or about you dissing (reviewing) William Grimes, Adam Platt and Gael Greene? :wink: :rolleyes: :sad: :shock: :smile: :unsure: :wacko: :cool: :blink: :huh: