ADNY (Alain Ducasse @ Essex House)

[Bux]

Admin: an archive of discussion on ADNY with Didier Elena as chef de cuisine, including the opening of the restaurant and early critical/media response, may be found here. The discussion thread for ADNY under chef de cuisine Tony Esnault may be found here.

Rumor has it that Ducasse will announce a new chef for AD/NY tomorrow and that it will be Christian Delouvrier. Didier Elena, may be working on some new project with Ducasse. It doesn't seem that there was any falling out or problem. I had heard earlier than Elena was leaving AD/NY, but the information was just too sketchy to post. This seems reliable, although I have to admit, unexpected. Both of Delouvrier's NY projects have fallen through, so maybe this is not as unexpected as it first seemed to me.

[Jinmyo]

"A new menu will make its debut at the end of the month. Mr. Ducasse said it would be as much Mr. Delouvrier's as his."

Click, svp.

[twodogs]

when to dine there. in nyc till the 20th of april. will we get the new deal?

cheers

[ballast_regime]

Just in time for AD/NY to reassert itself before Per Se can recoup.

[Suzanne F]

Just in time for AD/NY to reassert itself before Per Se can recoup.

Excellent point.

[Fat Guy]

I was hearing the most bizarre rumors over the past month:

"Didier is going to open a restaurant with Delouvrier in France!"

"Ducasse is moving ADNY to a non-union location and Delouvrier is going back to the Essex House with Didier as his chef de cuisine!"

"Ducasse is sick of New York and is selling his shares of ADNY to Delouvrier and Mix to Chodorow!"

The real news seems far preferable to any of the rumors. This is a very interesting move by Ducasse.

[jbraynolds]

So, what happened to Psaltis? Did he quit? Was he canned? Demoted? Transferred? Shallow grave? Is he landing someplace else?

[Fat Guy]

Nobody seems to know -- not even Psaltis.

It's hard to know what this move by Ducasse really means. On the one hand, it may be a stroke of genius. Many, many people speculated over the years that the best way to give ADNY a boost would be to bring in a big-name chef. Delouvrier, a chef who earned four-stars from the Times, certainly qualifies as a big name. On the other hand, there are some factors that would seem to be problematic: Delouvrier is very much his own man; he's not some young rising-star chef who can benefit from learning the Ducasse system and working in Ducasse's shadow for a few years. And they don't seem to be marketing it that way anyway: the Times reports "A new menu will make its debut at the end of the month. Mr. Ducasse said it would be as much Mr. Delouvrier's as his." That's very much not in keeping with the long-established Ducasse approach to one big hierarchical/delegated international kitchen. Moreover, Ducasse's comment "I'm not here enough to make New Yorkers happy . . . . So now they will have Christian full time" should be raising a lot of eyebrows.

Then there's the whole issue of co-chefs; is it a workable system? I suppose there are examples where it has worked, even at the Michelin three-star level, but the recent tailspin of the Vongerichten-Kunz collaboration at Spice Market strikes me as the overwhelmingly more likely scenario in any co-chefs situation: eventually, one of them has to be number one and the other has to be number two. Or number zero.

So, I'll be interested to see this all unfold. It's great to have Delouvrier back in action, though.

[jbraynolds]

I'm very curious and a bit puzzled by the placement of Delouvrier at Mix. Everything that he has ever done in NYC has been the antithesis of the whole Mix concept. If anyone was ever a practitioner of the Luxe Classique version of French cuisine, it's Delouvrier. And for what it's worth, he probably has a good 10-15 years on Ducasse. The new menus ought to be pretty intriguing.

[Bux]

So, what happened to Psaltis? Did he quit? Was he canned? Demoted? Transferred? Shallow grave? Is he landing someplace else?

I'm very curious and a bit puzzled by the placement of Delouvrier at Mix. Everything that he has ever done in NYC has been the antithesis of the whole Mix concept. If anyone was ever a practitioner of the Luxe Classique version of French cuisine, it's Delouvrier. And for what it's worth, he probably has a good 10-15 years on Ducasse. The new menus ought to be pretty intriguing.

Psaltis is no longer chef at Mix. That was reported on the Fat Guy on Mix thread on March 25. Didier Elena is leaving AD/NY and Christian Delouvrier is coming to AD/NY as the new chef. No one has said or implied that Delouvrier will have anything to do with Mix, but some eyebrows have been raised at the idea of Delouvrier working for Ducasse in Ducasse's AD/NY kitchen which is why comments about it being Delouvrier's kitchen and about New Yorkers not being happy with an a chef who's absentee and foreign begin to make sense. But this thread and the news of Delouvrier is all about AD/NY and not at all about Mix.

[jbraynolds]

Oops. My mistake. So, will a new chef be brought in for Mix or will they stick with in-house staff? Or is it too early to tell.

Delouvrier at AD/NY is not at all a bad fit, in my opinion. My few meals at Lespinasse under his watch and a couple at Celebrites were superb.

[Fat Guy]

There's already a new chef named at Mix. If you go check out the Mix thread, the info is all there.

[Fat Guy]

The best dish I've had in God-knows-how-long, I had last night at Alain Ducasse New York (ADNY): peas with crayfish. The peas, crayfish, and sauce are each cooked separately: the tiny peas to a snappy al dente state of just-underdoneness, the super-sized crayfish tails quickly sauteed until just barely cooked, and the sauce made from crayfish heads and Armagnac. Just before serving, the three components are combined and warmed through, finished with broken whipped cream and topped with a frothy pea emulsion. The result is extraordinary: each ingredient retains it independence yet supports the others; the flavors are deep in the manner of a long-simmered stock yet there is a supervening sense of freshness and lightness as from a jus; the crispness of the peas gives way to the succulent texture of the crayfish, and both get carried away in a creamy river of sauce; the combinations and contrasts demand the sustained attention of the palate not just for two or three bites, but all the way through the dish.

When Alain Ducasse announced that Christian Delouvrier would be taking over the ADNY kitchen, I didn't know what to think: it didn't compute. To be sure, they are two of my favorite chefs, and Delouvrier is also a friend. I've seen the two work up close, in week-long stages both at Lespinasse and ADNY. I've also got quite a bit of dining experience at both restaurants, having been to ADNY at least a dozen times (even, on one memorable night, with Delouvrier and his wife Mary) and, to Lespinasse, more like 100 times (under Delouvrier and the previous chef, Gray Kunz). I chose to get to know those restaurants and chefs because I was swept away by their cuisines. But none of this, in my mind, added up to a merger. Not only is it something that in a million years would never have occurred to me as an option, but also it rubbed me the wrong way the second I heard about it.

Ducasse has helped me, and anyone else who has been paying attention to the restaurant business over the past decade, rethink what it means to be a chef: the chef (or at least the modern chef, who is likely to operate more than one restaurant in a corporate fashion as opposed to a standalone family business) is neither cook nor supervisor, but is rather an executive who, like any executive in any industry, is judged in large part by his ability to make the big decisions and delegate the rest. Just as Escoffier brought the modern industrial concept of the assembly line into the world of the restaurant kitchen, Ducasse has been the leader in bringing modern management theory into haute cuisine restaurants.

Still, conceptually that knowledge only took me so far, because of another vestige of Old World thinking: the chef as individual artist. Yet, reflecting on my experiences in restaurant kitchens and on the interactions between many chefs and their proteges, I've slowly come to realize that cooking is much more of a collaboration than anybody wants to let on. It's a collaboration not just between executive chefs and their top assistants, but also between chefs and suppliers, chefs and sommeliers, chefs and pastry chefs, chefs and customers, chefs living and chefs long gone. What you eat in the best restaurants today is largely a result of teamwork.

I've also been harboring some suspicion and resentment regarding Ducasse's handling of the Mix situation – his Bay of Pigs, as I have called it – and I couldn't help but suspect that the Delouvrier announcement, coming just a week after the Mix news hit the papers, was either a diversionary tactic or emblematic of a larger shift away from the United States by Ducasse. I'm still quite disappointed about the events at Mix, but I'm now comfortable concluding that ADNY is operating much closer to Ducasse's core and is still being taken as seriously as Mix should have been.

And there was the matter of Delouvrier's seniority and status. Didier Elena, the former chef at ADNY, was essentially a kid. A superbly talented kid, one with culinary wisdom and skill beyond his years, but ultimately falling into line generationally behind Ducasse and with a background in Ducasse's kitchens. He was like the young attorney who makes partner after 8 years of hard work at a firm: a product of that firm's system, an integrated part of the organic whole. Delouvrier is older than Ducasse and his entire career has unfolded independently of Ducasse. He is the equivalent of that same law firm bringing in a partner laterally from another firm, perhaps the top partner from a regional firm who will now run the branch office of a national firm, all the while reporting to a younger managing-partner at the new, larger firm.

The lateral partner may suffer a downgrade in pure hierarchical standing, but he may overall be in a more prestigious position, he will have better associates, better offices, better clients, and a larger budget. Provided he can integrate into the new team, it's a win-win arrangement. Organizations, after all, need to expand and adapt to fill their needs. If the organization has not raised someone internally who can carry out a mission, there's also a whole world out there. Ducasse, never accused of lack of vision, figured this out and ran with it in a big way: he reached out to the most accomplished available practitioner in the relevant market and put him in charge of the local office.

Of course, there is more artistry to being a chef than there is to being a lawyer. And it's deeply ingrained in aphorism that “too many chefs spoil the broth.” But two chefs, working closely together with a shared vision, seems not to be too many. For ADNY, it may be just the right number.

To paint Delouvrier and Ducasse with broad brush strokes, I've always felt Delouvrier's strength was his ability to develop depth of flavor, primarily in his meat dishes (and especially game) and also with shellfish. His cuisine is earthy, substantial, and in some cases tinged with a little well-intentioned vulgarity. Ducasse for his part is a technician, a perfectionist. His dishes have a brassy freshness that is extremely modern, despite their roots in classic technique. Nobody has ever accused Delouvrier's cuisine of lacking soul; yet that accusation has been leveled at Ducasse (in its most noteworthy incarnation, by Gael Greene who called him “Robochef”). Meanwhile, nobody has ever accused Ducasse – perhaps the world's most tightly wound chef – of a lack of precision; whereas Delouvrier's menus and dishes have always tended to be more free ranging.

The combination of influences, visible in several of the dishes I tried last night, may very well have brought ADNY – already the top restaurant in New York – to a new level. With a brand-new menu (it launched this past Wednesday) it's too early to say, but the signs are all there. Delouvrier has given ADNY's food a studied rusticity and grittiness that many have said it needed. For his part, Ducasse contributes lightness and a sense of order. As for how much of each dish is Ducasse and how much is Delouvrier, I have no idea – and ultimately I'm more concerned with the integrity of the final product than with what went on during its creation. One thing is sure, though: no dish I tried felt as though it was generated by a committee; they were clear expressions of flavor, technique, and product. It was clear I was eating at ADNY; it was also clear that the cuisine at ADNY had evolved into something more personal.

As far as his demeanor, I've never seen Delouvrier so excited and youthful. I had wondered, was he settling for being Ducasse's man in New York (one way to look at it) or did he view his new position as the highest possible accomplishment in New York (the other way to look at it)? Clearly the latter: Delouvrier thinks (and I agree) that Ducasse is the top French chef in the world, and he's honored by the association. It takes a rare combination of confidence and humility to accept such an arrangement, but Delouvrier seems to be made of that stuff. When he came out into the dining room (I had wondered about that as well, but apparently Ducasse very much wants Delouvrier to be out there) he was beaming in the manner of a new father (or a renewed father, since he was the chef of the Essex House fine-dining restaurant when it was Les Celebrites). After giving me a guilt trip for not returning an answering machine message a year ago (really, I didn't get it) he announced “We've come a long way, you and me!” Him farther than me, though. (As an aside, if you are interested in reading about Delouvrier's life and career arc up through Lespinasse, you should grab his cookbook, Mastering Simplicity, which contains a number of autobiographical sections in addition to the best cassoulet recipe I know of.)

I wanted to try as many things as possible so I asked Delouvrier to do a tasting of dishes from all parts of the menu (the regular sections and the tasting menu). This allowed me to sample seven savory items (it's not physically possible to eat more dishes than that in the ADNY portion size) as well as about a million sweets. There were many highlights. Perhaps my favorite dish after the crayfish was roasted halibut with razor clams and almond butter. After poaching, the razor clams are sliced on the bias and replaced in the shell, then topped with almond butter and gratineed. The halibut is cooked a la plancha, finished in the clam juices, and then drizzled with a bright green sauce of spinach and watercress. On the one hand it's an immensely attractive haute cuisine dish, with the kinds of delicately reinforced and amplified flavors one expects from the genre. On the other hand, who knew razor clams with almond butter could taste so much like comfort food?

For pure quality of product, ADNY's sea scallops marinated in olive oil (they are never heated) are a revelation. Every other slice is topped with oven-roasted tomato; the other half of the slices are naked. The scallops sit in a golden-colored gelee made from tomato juices, white stock, and calves' feet. The sommelier's smart pick of a 2000 Vire-Clesse from Domaine Rene Michel (60-year-old vines, picked late) to accompany this dish reminded me that I need to focus more on the Macon as a source for well-priced, excellent chardonnay.

Two meat dishes demonstrate the kitchen's facility with jus. Sauteed rack of milk-fed veal with lightly creamed morels, asparagus, and fingerling potatoes is the best meat-and-potatoes dish you're likely to find. The jus, drizzled over and around everything, has the visual appearance of a sauce based on long-simmered stock but it's light and fresh, with the kinds of high flavor notes one expects more in wine than in food. Spit-roasted saddle of baby lamb with seasonal vegetables was an equally powerful demonstration. It's hard to imagine a better pairing than that lamb and its jus with the infamous '91 Lafite, thank goodness I wasn't paying.

Poeleed duck foie gras (I had to look it up too: “poeleed” just means pan-seared) with lemon-date marmalade maximizes the efficacy of combining foie gras with a sweet ingredient but is reined in by lemon and a hint of vanilla. There was quite a bit of the marmalade left over after I inhaled the foie gras, and I found myself eating it straight with a fork, taste after taste.

The only dish I didn't particularly thrill to was “wild Alaskan salmon, served warm, clear Osetra caviar, 'belle-vue' garnish.” This was too old-school for me: more of a display of luxury ingredients than anything else. The garnish was a pretty impressive display of garde-manger work, though, with little quail eggs, various baby vegetables, and a well-disciplined pool of gelee.

Because the two restaurants operate in their own category, it's worth taking a moment to compare ADNY and Per Se. (There are other chefs in New York with Delouvrier and Keller's level of skill, though perhaps none on Ducasse's level, but neither Boulud, Vongerichten, Bouley, nor Ripert has an outlet that can compare to ADNY or Per Se.) The restaurants have very different styles and Per Se is quite new (ADNY, although it is in the process of changing chefs, is already a well oiled machine) but they are as remarkable for their similarities than their differences. They are really the only two restaurants in town that are playing the same game as the three-star restaurants of Europe. In both cases, the best ingredients, equipment, and kitchen talent are givens, as is the time and staff-customer ratio to make anything possible.

Per Se has it all over ADNY in terms of its physical space. ADNY is certainly a luxurious, comfortable, attractive restaurant but it is ultimately a hotel dining room with only an expensive decor job to distinguish it. Per Se is a truly dramatic space, both inside and on account of its view.

ADNY has, in my opinion, much better service at this point. I presume Per Se's service will improve with time just as ADNY's has over the past few years, but ADNY even had better service the week it opened. No matter how close the two waitstaffs get to their respective definitions of perfection, though, I think I'll always prefer the ADNY approach overall. I find the Per Se/French Laundry style of service to be overly cult-like and self-congratulatory. Although it gives the appearance of being contemporary and laid back, there's a control-freakish aspect to the whole thing that I find condescending. I prefer the easy formality of ADNY, without all that psychological baggage.

As for the food, I would be ecstatic to dine at either restaurant on any given night. But if forced to choose I'd go with ADNY. The cuisine at ADNY strikes me as more disciplined and rooted in a more significant body of thought than the cuisine at Per Se. In addition, I prefer the style of dishes at ADNY – I think Keller has pushed the concept of the tasting menu to a rather absurd extreme. I emphatically don't agree with his belief that dishes get boring after three bites. A good dish is interesting far beyond that, as generations of chefs have demonstrated with the creation of dishes that customers wish to order time and again. I'd rather have 5 medium-sized savory plates at ADNY, each a full composition, than 10 of Per Se's little teases. Most importantly, at least at the time I ate there (and this seems to be confirmed by several subsequent reports), there is a certain arc to the meal at Per Se that I found lacking: it starts off on several high notes but declines at the meat courses and falls off considerably with dessert. At ADNY the meal builds to a high note after a couple of warmup tastes and that level of intensity and focus is maintained all the way through to the end: the meats are fabulous and deeply satisfying, the cheese cart is well stocked and presented with warm olive-laden brioche (the Per Se attempts at cheese are embarrassing by comparison), the desserts are among the best anywhere (as opposed to Per Se's desserts, which are just very good), and the follow-ups to dessert are sui generis – no restaurant in the United States comes close to what ADNY is doing with candies, cookies, and the like.

In any event, with Per Se now back in business, and with Delouvrier's presence at ADNY likely to guarantee it a long and fruitful run, New York has managed not only to hang on to the fine-dining tradition that so many say is doomed, but also to raise the stakes.

[docsconz]

Fascinating discourse, Steven. I have not yet eaten at ADNY. I will have to wait to replenish my bank account in order to do so, unless someone else would like to take me Nevertheless, after my meal at Per Se, I am intrigued that someone whose opinion I respect as much as yours, would make a cogent argument for an even better restaurant.

One thing I doubt, however, is that ADNY can leave as much of a sense of "value" for its respective high tab the way that Per Se has. Never have I spent so much on a meal and feel that I walked away with a bargain as I did at Per Se. Also, since I am not an acquaintence let alone friend of Chef DeLouvrier, how likely would it be for me to walk away from ADNY with similar impressions to yours? At Per Se, I didn't "know" anyone, but I was made to feel that I did.

[Fat Guy]

It depends how you derive your impressions of value, I suppose. Part of the premium at ADNY derives from the restaurant doing 50% fewer covers on the same number of seats. And you'll get fewer courses, but with more substance in each course. I can virtually guarantee that you'll agree with me about the meat-cheese-dessert arc of the meal, if not my overall conclusions.

My basis for comparison between ADNY and Per Se is as a friend-of-the-chef at both (I have no relationship with Keller but Benno and I go way back; indeed I believe I was the first and second journalist ever to write about him, several years before there was a Per Se), so there's a relatively even playing field there.

But I wouldn't fixate on my status. You might be able to buy me with a bottle of '61 Lafite, but not with a bottle of '91. I've also dined at French Laundry as a friend of nobody, and at ADNY several times before I was known to the house there. At neither restaurant would the same dish be any different as between a regular or VIP/FOH/soignee table, with the possible exception of a bigger quenelle of caviar or whatever. There are no lesser pieces of fish in either kitchen -- everything is top notch. The differentiation comes when one starts dealing with off-menu items. In the case of both ADNY/Delouvrier and Per Se, I've eaten only the exact same items that appear on the menu -- no special dishes. Service-wise, I'm assuming the best theoretical service from both -- my comment is about the style of service, as opposed to the service I specifically received.

[jogoode]

Here's a link to the new menu at ADNY.

Thanks for that, Steven.

A neophyte's question: what does it means that "Delouvrier's strength was his ability to develop depth of flavor, primarily in his meat dishes (and especially game) and also with shellfish"? Does this refer to his skill with stocks and sauces or his overall treatment of meat/shellfish?

[Fat Guy]

I don't know if it's possible to separate the two; it's more a question of knowing what will flatter each item. With a piece of beef, developing depth is going to come from the choice of product, gentle cooking on the bone, and saucing. With something like hare, it's going to be a question of a lengthy marinade (as in weeks) plus combining the cooking liquid with the blood of the hare to make the sauce.

[oakapple]

Here's a link to the new menu at ADNY.

I followed the link. The website says, "Didier Elena, who has worked with Alain Ducasse for over 13 years, heads a team of 20 chefs," so this is the old menu.

[Fat Guy]

That's the menu as of May 19, and is the same menu I saw on Friday night -- in other words the current menu. The rest of the Web site text still hasn't been rewritten or updated, for whatever reason. However if you go to the media area you can read the Delouvrier press release.

[jogoode]

I don't know if it's possible to separate the two; it's more a question of knowing what will flatter each item. With a piece of beef, developing depth is going to come from the choice of product, gentle cooking on the bone, and saucing. With something like hare, it's going to be a question of a lengthy marinade (as in weeks) plus combining the cooking liquid with the blood of the hare to make the sauce.

I think, then, my definition of a great chef is too narrow. I assumed that this skill is common to all great chefs. But my guess now is that you're saying that it is his focus, his main objective, to build depth of flavor; whereas other chefs may focus on, say, creating a dish of integrated flavors, in which none outshine the others.

How did DeLouvrier change the food at Lespinasse when he took over. Did he banish most of the international influence on Kunz's menu? Did he start serving more game?

[Curlz]

Sauteed rack of milk-fed veal with lightly creamed morels, asparagus, and fingerling potatoes is the best meat-and-potatoes dish you're likely to find.

I'm DROOLING.

What a wonderful love letter you've written, Steven--thank you for sharing with us! I haven't had the opportunity to dine at either restaurant, but I think I'd like to start at the beginning of the alphabet.

[Jonathan Day]

finished with broken whipped cream

What is "broken whipped cream"? Is this cream whipped until it begins to turn into butter? Why would you use this rather than ordinary whipped cream?

[colestove]

Steven; thank you for your well written and well reasoned discourse. If the book maintains the same level of insight and information I think you will have made real contribution to "food writing" as a genre. I have never eaten at either place and the chance that this retired Denver cook wil ever be able to is quite small but I feel as if I have been able to get a real "handle" on both, not only the food but the reasons for everything being done. Thank you again for your insight and the well done presentation.

colestove

[Fat Guy]

finished with broken whipped cream

What is "broken whipped cream"? Is this cream whipped until it begins to turn into butter? Why would you use this rather than ordinary whipped cream?

It's Delouvrier-speak (looking in my reference books, I see now that it's not a standard term) for his style of lightening a sauce with whipped cream at the last minute -- it has nothing to do with breaking as in a broken sauce. He lightly whips the cream (no Profi-Whip device here -- this is done by whisk to a very soft consistency) and when the sauce is just at the moment of service he takes a spoonful of the whipped cream and "breaks" it into the sauce. The closest standard term would be fold but to fold it into the sauce would mean to distribute it evenly in several turns of the spoon. It's also not quite swirled in. It's more of a single fold-swirl motion, which Delouvrier calls breaking.

[Fat Guy]

I assumed that this skill is common to all great chefs.

It's common to all chefs that have even basic competence. But Delouvrier is better at it than most anybody else on this side of the Atlantic. He simply knows more about and has a better palate for and sense of sauces, stocks, jus, thickening methods, etc., than the competition. The level on which he thinks and talks about flavor puts him in a very small group. Ducasse is most likely one of the only chefs in the world who has anything to teach Delouvrier about development of flavor in food of this style, which is part of the reason it's such an interesting collaboration.

How did DeLouvrier change the food at Lespinasse when he took over. Did he banish most of the international influence on Kunz's menu? Did he start serving more game?

He scrapped everything and started anew, both in terms of individual dishes and overall style. At ADNY he has preserved much of the house style, though I'm pretty sure every dish is new (save for the rum baba on the dessert menu). But of course the house style at ADNY was already a lot closer to Delouvrier's style than the Kunz style, which was totally atypical and unique. Ducasse and Delouvrier came up through the same French haute-cuisine system, they're from the same area of France, they have experience with the same suppliers. It's a much different kind of transition, as is the business framework surrounding it. Delouvrier has been given custody over Ducasse's global luxury brand as it is being presented to the US market. So it's a balancing act, and one without a lot of clear precedent. It will be interesting to see how people react.