Tasting Menus versus Traditionally Structured Meals

[robert brown]

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The return of Thomas Keller to New York (remember Rakel's?) brings back into focus what to me is the most salient aspect of gastronomic change and what drives Per Se even more than the specificity of its dishes: the menu-dégustation, aka "the tasting menu." Per Se has been with us just a matter of weeks or months, depending from when you count, but its manner of dining has been around for more than 25 years.

For the sake of clarity, the menu-dégustation distinguishes itself from other predetermined menus, primarily those that are made up of three or four full-portions that the chef chooses; and a menu of half-portions that would offer four to six courses (a menu type that Per Se also offers). The tasting menu, however, is characterized by its putting forth typically eight to ten small or very small portions, but as many as 30. It is this class of menu that many serious gastronomes of the past 20 or more years find hard to stomach.

One culinary deep- thinker who was on the case 25 years ago was the Lyon-area chef-restaurateur Alain Chapel. Right off the bat in the essay section of his revered cookbook La Cuisine, C'est Beaucoup Plus que des Recettes ("Cooking is much more than some recipes"), he succinctly and methodically tells us what tasting menus do to the goals of enlightened, serious eating.

Chapel describes the tasting menu as "a long declension of disassembled dishes in a capricious order ". He states that it is its variety that is supposed to make an impression, and because one nibbles, the tasting menu harks back to the 17th-century service à la francaise by inviting the client to indulge his taste buds in an astonishing gymnastic exercise in which superficial and elusive dishes with ever-changing tastes give us but a glimpse before they disappear.

Chapel continues to question the validity of a major function of the tasting menu. "For the client dazzled by the spectacle of all these tastes, it becomes a situation of knowing such and such a restaurant from A to Z, (as one would wish to know all the books of a writer by simply reading the blurbs), by briefly spewing forth the specialties." and, "It exhausts all the possibilities of a restaurant in one go, which is the fantasy the tasting menu addresses itself to."

Brevity, condensing and creating a digest are operative terms, Chapel writes. Above all, the adjective "short" is the most critical of all. "Short cooking, short sauces, etc." Chapel then discusses how the tasting menu makes timing difficult to manage, and, because of having to serve so many dishes, creates service at breakneck speed.

Chapel adds that it is hard enough to compose a meal and choose the appropriate wine with two or three dishes. A tasting menu with its contortion of tastes and multiplicity of sauces makes a rapid and cumulative assault, and, paraphrasing from the sign that you see at French railway crossings, "One dish can hide another". He then illustrates the importance of his serving clients in a separate area an aperitif and certain "amuse-gueules" that they can eat with their hands in order to have a sensual contact with the meal about to come, or to put them at ease in a place they have never visited before. Whether it's a refined dish or something relatively straight-forward ("Une petite fricassée de boudin …from a just-slaughtered pig"), Chapel's aim was to serve dishes of significance in every way.

Implicit in Chapel's essay is what I find to be a significant flaw of the tasting menu: By its nature it precludes major ways of cooking and rich areas of cuisine. It can best be summed up as one not being served a whole or entire principal product such as a chicken, rabbit, duck, lobster or fish. The chances of ever seeing meat, fowl or fish on a bone in a high-profile modern restaurant are also small. A retort might be to go to a steakhouse or a fish restaurant, but the fact is that the opportunities to have full-blown dishes from the hands of top chefs are steadily diminishing.

Although my curiosity takes me on rare occasions to tasting- menu-only restaurants, a second reason I am wary of them is that the chance of having a sensational meal from beginning to end is zero to none. This is not to claim that one can't have several memorable dishes in a dégustation. The problem is that when you do, the portion is never large enough even when it is the kind of dish that wouldn't lend itself to full portions. To put it another way, tasting menus never provide the opportunity to meaningfully give the ultimate accolade to a dish, which is "I can't get enough of this." Ultimately, however, I leave the restaurant unable to grasp and retain my meal and missing the sense of satisfaction, fulfillment and well-being that a well-chosen and artfully-executed three or four course meal provides.

Having said that, as they say, Per Se is nonetheless a prime example of why New York is no doubt revered by a plurality of whoever visits it as the most exciting city in the world. I can't imagine any other that would or could provide the backing, infrastructure or venue for the East Coast outpost of what many consider one of the very best restaurants there is. Holding culinary considerations aside for the moment, I was seduced by the friendliness of the staff, which was a contrast to that of the French Laundry; the "luxe" of the setting; and the pace of the service. That we were also in the company of two fellow veteran and inveterate gastronomic travelers and their erudite and informed chef son with a great palate besides, made for the most memorable luxury meal in a long time.

I will leave the dish-by-dish diner's report to others (some of whom have already given illuminating reportage). Nonetheless, once the extra-culinary euphoric glow had faded, my wife and I found ourselves in Monday morning reassessment, more sober and better able to put some esthetic distance between us and our food. Not surprisingly, having tasted not just the nine courses of the Chef's Tasting Menu, but also extra dishes on top of the alternate preparations we received with most courses, there were wide variations in quality. As with tasting menus of this magnitude, the kitchen did its high-wire act with results ranging from poor to brilliant. By this time, Keller and others have proved to me that fish and shellfish shouldn't be cut up and served in little portions. Our "Crispy Skin Black Bass" tasted only of the crispy skin while "Sweet Butter Poached Nova Scotia Lobster Cooked "Sous-Vide" was tasting mostly of butter. The preceding foie gras dishes showed why it's best to stick to eating it in France. I've never had good American foie gras and Keller's were, in the case of the warm preparation, bloody and sinewy for which I needed a knife to cut the threads, while the Torchon was bland. Elysian Fields Farm lamb with a persil mousse and toasted faro was a bit unyielding and well below the quality of the animal one finds from Sisteron, the Limousin or Cuneo. The same held true in terms of quality for the Snake River Farms Calotte du Boeuf Grillé.

What I liked to call "the dishes Thomas Keller has been living off of all these years", which I now rescind since we had other very good dishes here (unlike our visit to the French Laundry 20 months ago) were fine as always. The salmon tartare and crème fraiche cones and the oysters and pearls are Keller's ticket to the Chefs' Hall of Fame, great dishes that they are. Add to this the "Rillette of Hallow Farms Young Rabbit" with poached kumquats, spinach and a spiced pistachio crumble as well. The dish transported me back to the glory days of provincial dining in France.

Keller also scored big in everyone's book with a "gnocci" of Pecorino cheese that was without a doubt the best "fromage cuisine" I ever had. The dessert part of the meal had Keller's "Napa Valley Verjus Sorbet served with a Vanilla Breton" that was another highlight.

As we stood at the threshold of the kitchen looking at some of its 6000 square feet and forty workers, I thought how easy it would be for Keller to remove the deadwood from his repertoire and then offer his very best dishes à la carte and in full-portions, not in the small scale that lacks the succulence and inherent textural and taste variety found in all kinds of whole products. But that's not how he got to where he is, and probably would not have otherwise. I believe that people think that even in gastronomy, unrestrained variety is the spice of life and a meal is inferior if it lacks a certain rat-a-tat-tat, razzle-dazzle. I nonetheless left Per Se on Cloud Nine (before descending into the bowels of the Whole Earth store below) with our out-of-town friends, not being sure as to what put me up there most---the company and conversation; the Helen Turley, François Jobard and Domaine Dujac wines; the ambiance; or the meal itself. I suspect it was in just that order of magnitude.

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[slkinsey]

Very interesting and illuminating post, Robert! Besides touching on similar ground as Fat Guy's comments regarding the effects experienced when eating a larger piece of meat, you pointed out something that's been in the back of my mind for some time now: Most people who have visited one of Keller's restaurants report that at least one or two dishes were in the range of "just okay" to "not all that good." This is perhaps somewhat inevitable in the context of a megamulticourse tasting menu. In contrast, one most often hears of, say, ADNY, that every course among the much smaller number of courses approached perfection. Given the opportunity to eat at only one of NYC's tip-top restaurants, I am not sure I wouldn't choose ADNY over Per Se. It strikes me as very interesting that fooderati are clamoring nonstop for Per Se while something incredibly significant is happening at ADNY with the arrival of Delouvrier as chef de cuisine.

[oakapple]

The tasting menu, however, is characterized by its putting forth typically eight to ten small or very small portions, but as many as 30. It is this class of menu that many serious gastronomes of the past 20 or more years find hard to stomach.

The tasting menu has evidently evolved from where it started a couple of decades ago. These days, I frequently see fixed menus with as few as five courses described as "tasting menus." Perhaps this bastardizes the original concept (or improves on it, depending on your perspective), but a five-course tasting is now commonplace. Where a restaurant also offers service a la carte, the tasting menu is invariably the premium product (as opposed to the prix fixe, which at many places is still the budget product). It seems almost no restaurant aspiring to the high end can be without a tasting menu any more.

The hallmark of a tasting menu is that you usually get no choice, or very little choice, as to what the courses will be. And as Robert mentioned, they are smaller courses than you'd find in a typical 3-4 course meal. The idea is still what Robert said - to put yourself totally in the chef's hands, to see the range of what he can do.

From my limited experience with tasting menus, I've had the same nagging feeling as Robert:

To put it another way, tasting menus never provide the opportunity to meaningfully give the ultimate accolade to a dish, which is "I can't get enough of this."

Per Se's five-course prix fixe offers you at least three choices for each course, and sometimes as many as six choices. Per Se's nine-course tasting offers no choice whatsoever, aside from the Foie Gras at a $20.00 supplement. Although the price differential is rather inconsequential at this level, in some ways the five-course is more appealing because I can choose my own courses, and I'll get more of each item I chose.

(This is hypothetical for me at the moment, as I can't afford Per Se right now, but I'm torn as to which option I'd choose when/if I ever make it there.)

[robyn]

The return of Thomas Keller to New York (remember Rakel's?) brings back into focus what to me is the most salient aspect of gastronomic change and what drives Per Se even more than the specificity of its dishes: the menu-dégustation, aka "the tasting menu." Per Se has been with us just a matter of weeks or months, depending from when you count, but its manner of dining has been around for more than 25 years...

I don't have the time to write the kind of analysis you wrote right now. All I can say is I've pretty much given up on "tasting" menus. We just returned from a week in London - and the only disappointing meal we had was one "tasting menu" meal. Apart from this meal - we did the traditional ALC - starter - main and dessert - to great effect. Note that I also agree that it's difficult to do what I consider to be the heart of most great meals - the meats and game - in the context of a tasting menu.

Anyway - thanks for this message. It's something I've thought about for a while - and I'm casting my "in-restaurant" votes for traditional ALC. Robyn

[robyn]

Where a restaurant also offers service a la carte, the tasting menu is invariably the premium product (as opposed to the prix fixe, which at many places is still the budget product).

I think that the premium for the tasting menu perhaps reflects the increased amount of service required - and the increased amount of time diners spend at a table (assuming the restaurant has more than one seating a night). Robyn

[docsconz]

What I like most about tasting menus is that I am exposed to things I might not otherwise order. I enjoy putting myself in the chef's hands. It affords me a glimpse as to what the chef feels is his or her best side. I think this is particularly true at restaurants that I cannot frequent for whatever reason. Per Se fits into that category.

[robyn]

What I like most about tasting menus is that I am exposed to things I might not otherwise order. I enjoy putting myself in the chef's hands. It affords me a glimpse as to what the chef feels is his or her best side. I think this is particularly true at restaurants that I cannot frequent for whatever reason. Per Se fits into that category.

Why wouldn't you order something? I saw your picture - and you're about my age - give or take. So you've been around the block. And the reason you wouldn't order something is (most likely) because you don't like it (very much). So what's the point of getting something you probably won't like - no matter how well it's prepared?

E.g., in another thread - someone wrote (more or less) about one of the Chef's signature dishes on the tasting menu at the Dining Room at the Ritz Carlton in Buckhead (a great restaurant in my opinion) - this was chocolate and I usually don't like chocolate but this was pretty good for chocolate. Who benefits from this? The diner - who gets a dish he really isn't crazy about? The Chef - who gets a lukewarm endorsement? No one - that's who.

By the time you're 50 (even 40) - you probably know what you really like to eat - and the goal - in my opinion - especially when you're spending big money - is to get the best possible examples of those foods. If you love duck and dislike lamb - why have the tasting menu with the lamb? Go for the duck. And get a big enough portion that it lodges in your brain forever - not a tiny bit that gets lost among 20 other tiny bits.

You know - I watch people here taking pictures - and taking notes - and I wonder how many could describe 2 dishes on a 15 course tasting menu 2 weeks later without benefit of pictures and notes. Not many I'll reckon. I have never had a dish on a tasting menu that I recall a decade later with great fondness (if I recall it at all) - but there are many such dishes from ALC menus (even 3 decades later).

For what it's worth - when I'm in an excellent restaurant - I like to think that all of the dishes on the menu are dishes the Chef thinks are excellent. It's just that some of those dishes will appeal to some diners - and other dishes will appeal to others. Just my two cents. Robyn

[docsconz]

I prefer to keep an open mind and have some dishes that surprise me. I've been turned on to many a dish that way. To each one's own. It is good to have variety and choice. That is what makes life a wonderful thing.

[slkinsey]

If you love duck and dislike lamb - why have the tasting menu with the lamb? Go for the duck.

Most places I have ever been that do tasting menus ask if there are any serious food dislikes, allergies or other restrictions at the table. If I didn't like lamb, I would tell the waiter I didn't like lamb. And I would expect to get no lamb. Similarly, if I was really wanting duck, I would tell the waiter, "I love duck and would love it if I could have some duck tonight." That said, your point is well made that if you want a big does of duck you're better off with a traditionally-structured meal featuring a duck course.

Hmmm... perhaps we should split off a separate thread on tasting menus versus traditionally structured meals? It seems that there is much to discuss here beyond the context of Per Se.

[Jonathan Day]

It strikes me that "tasting menu" covers a number of different concepts.

One is the restaurateur's need to economise on product waste, by pricing a particular menu lower than the one composed of similar items from the carte. In some cases, the restaurant has insufficient staff to manage a carte, or lacks the technique to handle simultaneous production of many different dishes. I believe that Alice Waters wrote somewhere that she set up Chez Panisse with a fixed menu mainly because she didn't know any other way to do it. Her early menus were fixed, but there were options for steaks and grills for those who wanted them. Later, as the restaurant became more confident, the additional items were dropped.

In many restaurants in France, the upward extension of the prix fixe becomes a menu gourmand or menu découverte or something similarly named: three courses becomes four; perhaps a cheese course appears in addition to the sweet. People start to describe this as a "tasting menu", though I don't think it fits Robert's description very well. At the Plaza Athenée Ducasse, for example, you can have three half-portions of main dishes, cheese and dessert at a fixed price.

A second concept is a menu designed to give the customer a taste (dégustation) of the restaurant's dishes, perhaps in order to enable shorter menus of larger portions on a subsequent visit. It's not unlike visiting a vineyard and tasting multiple wines. The experience can be pleasant, but it is far from the pleasure of drinking several glasses of a great wine.

Finally, there are the avant-garde constructions of an Adrià or a Grant Achatz, where there is no possible "full" version of a particular dish owing to the degree of transformation that's been applied to the main ingredients.

My sense is that Keller is trying to deliver something more like the second concept, in part as an exercise in virtuosity, demonstrating that he can serve many courses to one table with exact precision. There is no doubt that this is an impressive trick. But is it much more than that?

[tanabutler]

Note: Docsconz is not remotely close to sixty. He and I are scarcely out of our teens, born four days apart in 1959.

Another discussion of tasting menus that is relevant.

[tanabutler]

I prefer to keep an open mind and have some dishes that surprise me. I've been turned on to many a dish that way. To each one's own. It is good to have variety and choice. That is what makes life a wonderful thing.

Hear, hear.

[docsconz]

Note: Docsconz is not remotely close to sixty. He and I are scarcely out of our teens, born four days apart in 1959.

Another discussion of tasting menus that is relevant.

Thanks, Tana

[tanabutler]

I've got your back, Doc.

[Fat Guy]

Jonathan, thank you for that taxonomy of tasting menus. I do think it's important to distinguish among different types of tastings. Chapel's criticisms, some but not all of which I agree with, seem most fitting when applied to extreme Keller-esque more-small-tastes-than-you-can-count tasting menus as opposed to, say, a six-course tasting of half-portions. I might add some other tasting menu categories: seasonal, theme, single-ingredient, greatest-hits, etc. But I think with respect to Adria and his avant garde ilk, as you imply, we are looking at a different species of dining altogether -- a sensory experience that is somewhat divorced from traditional concepts of eating -- and Chapel's set of arguments become largely inapplicable.

Another way of breaking down the arguments with respect to tasting menus is to look at their orientation: call them practical, aesthetic, and physical.

The practical limitations have to do with the mechanics of the kitchen producing so many dishes per table, and with a chef's ability to design and source so many different dishes at once at a high level of quality. The aesthetic objections fall along the lines of the claim that little slices of meat cannot equal the experience of meat on the bone. And the physical limitations have to do with the diner's ability to enjoy the avalanche of flavors.

I find the practical objection to be simply a challenge. If it can be overcome, it can be overcome. If it can't, it can't. There is no theoretical reason why a properly organized and sufficiently dogged chef can't pull it off. In reality, though, it is a rare achievement.

With the aesthetic argument, I agree to the extent that I very much enjoy dishes that are true compositions. Which is not to say I see no place for tastes. But as Robert says, there are some things that, when cut up into little pieces, just aren't as good as the big piece. And there are combinations and contrasts that don't scale down to three bites. Most of all, the sensuous experience of eating a complete dish is something special. I hasten to add that a complete dish can be very small, and that some of Keller's small dishes are to my mind complete dishes. But too many are not.

The physical limitation is, I find, common to experienced gastronomes who tend to be older. I recognize it but can't relate. At my age, bulk, and level of appetite, I have no problem dealing with the sensory input of a dozen courses and if they're good and well paced my palate will thoroughly enjoy the experience. There is an over-the-top, excessive, celebratory aspect to this kind of eating that I find enjoyably pornographic and extreme.

I think there is another issue here, however, and it is no surprise at all to me that a super-experienced and historically grounded diner like Robert is leading the charge in bringing this deficiency to the fore: there has been, I'm quite sure, a certain decline of critical standards -- by critics and consumers -- that has resulted in Keller being considered by many to be the best chef in the world when, in my opinion, too many examples of his cuisine are slapdash, undisciplined, derivative, and repetitive. He is, no question, an excellent chef and an even better restaurateur. And he has pulled off some incredible things in his kitchens. But the cult-like accolades that are consistently rained down upon the French Laundry have always struck me as too forgiving, and lacking in certain culinary foundations. There is, I think, a bit of a smoke-and-mirrors aspect to Keller's tastings. When Keller says "All menus at the French Laundry revolve around the law of diminishing returns, such as the more you have of something the less you enjoy it," I can't help but imply a corrolary that if people ate more than three bites of Keller's dishes, they'd see a lot more flaws.

[John Whiting]

Thank you, Robert. You've encapsulated the difference between a marriage and an orgy.

[robyn]

Jonathan, thank you for that taxonomy of tasting menus...

Just two comments on your post. When I eat meat - I like bones (and I sometimes gnaw on them in inelegant ways ). Can't recall ever seeing a piece of meat with proper bones served on a tasting menu.

As for the age thing in terms of eating multi-course menus - I'm not sure it's as much a matter of age/number of courses as opposed to the richness of the courses (although age and size certainly enters into it to a certain degree - as a 5 foot tall 56 year old woman - I'll never be able to eat as much as a 6 foot tall 17 year old young man - although I could perhaps drink him under the table ).

One of the best/worst meals my husband and I ever ate was in France when we were about 30. It wasn't that there was too much food - it's that it was all just too too rich (much too much in the way of butter/cream sauces). We both got sick as dogs after. I find that I can work my way through more courses when they're made with a lighter hand (and they usually are these days). Also - if I know there's something glorious at the end of the rainbow (i.e., great dessert chef) - I'll save some room in anticipation. Robyn

[docsconz]

I can't help but imply a corrolary that if people ate more than three bites of Keller's dishes, they'd see a lot more flaws.

Then it is all the more reason for him to serve his food this way. Actually your point is well taken. If I was able to frequent TFL or Per Se, I would be much more interested in more in depth explorations of the cuisine. However, not being able to do so, I was content with sampling many different things.

[therese]

Since there are some references back and forth now between this thread and jeffj's description of Menard's signature menu at The Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead in Atlanta, I'll point out that the signature menu is not, strictly speaking, a degustation. Most of the dishes are full-size, at least by European standards, so there's no question of one finishing off that one little bite and thinking "crap, that was great, I really wish there were more". And frankly, if you actually wanted more you could ask for it---the wines (if you get the paired wines) are full pours and then more is offered. The kitchen would likely be as obliging.

But who could possibly manage additional food?

[robyn]

I can't help but imply a corrolary that if people ate more than three bites of Keller's dishes, they'd see a lot more flaws.

Then it is all the more reason for him to serve his food this way. Actually your point is well taken. If I was able to frequent TFL or Per Se, I would be much more interested in more in depth explorations of the cuisine. However, not being able to do so, I was content with sampling many different things.

I'm not sure if I can do it justice - but I think the philosophy of Keller and the FL is that once you've had a bite or two of something - and your taste buds have been exciited - eating more of the same thing is kind of boring. So you're on to the next course in the quest for constant titillation.

I don't think I agree with this philosophy - after all - I can eat licorice Jelly Bellies (one of my favorites) all night - but I suppose reasonable people can have opposing points of view. Robyn

[robyn]

Since there are some references back and forth now between this thread and jeffj's description of Menard's signature menu at The Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead in Atlanta, I'll point out that the signature menu is not, strictly speaking, a degustation. Most of the dishes are full-size, at least by European standards, so there's no question of one finishing off that one little bite and thinking "crap, that was great, I really wish there were more". And frankly, if you actually wanted more you could ask for it---the wines (if you get the paired wines) are full pours and then more is offered. The kitchen would likely be as obliging.

But who could possibly manage additional food?

The last menu I had at the Dining Room was 8 courses - but that included an amuse and a sorbet. Basically - the courses were amuse, starter, soup, fish (with pasta), fish (with meat), cheese, sorbet and dessert (and then amuse dessert trolley). The menu was a crustaceean menu which was why the fish and meat courses were basically fish courses. All in all - I'd say it had more of the structure of a classic extended French menu than a tasting menu. And - because of the lightness of the main ingredients - there really wasn't a problem eating everything.

You're correct that the wine pours were more than generous . Robyn

[therese]

We actually had to have the main meat course (the lamb with coffee, same as jeffj) packed up, only managing one or two bites each. And then we were sent home with yet more food, little packets of madeleines. And really wonderful madeleines they were (trust me on this, I'm very much into madeleines).

[robyn]

We actually had to have the main meat course (the lamb with coffee, same as jeffj) packed up, only managing one or two bites each. And then we were sent home with yet more food, little packets of madeleines. And really wonderful madeleines they were (trust me on this, I'm very much into madeleines).

Sometimes - don't you wish they'd serve the meal backwards - so you could eat all of the terrific desserts before you got full? By the way - I really like madeleines too . Robyn

[JAZ]

As a disclaimer, I'll start out by stating that I rarely eat at high end restaurants, have never had a tasting menu at the level of Per Se or French Laundry (or anywhere, really -- not in the sense that's being discussed here).

But, that being said, I spend a lot of time thinking about taste and texture of foods, sequence of dishes -- all the things that come into play here.

I also teach cocktail and "party food" classes, and so I concentrate on "one bite" foods. I think it's the only way to go with cocktail parties, but I don't think it's the way to truly sample a chef's oeuvre. Dinner should not be a series of amuse bouche.

One very valid point has been made about "tastes" as opposed to full dishes (whether small or large) -- which is that sometimes flaws in a dish only become apparent after a few bites. But the opposite can also be true: sometimes the subtilties (okay, I have no idea how that word is spelled) of a dish don't reveal themselves in the first or second bite.

So a tasting menu can be perceived as either better or worse (or sometimes both) than it "really" is because, damn it, it takes more than a bite to evaluate a dish.

[Jonathan Day]

If I was able to frequent TFL or Per Se, I would be much more interested in more in depth explorations of the cuisine. However, not being able to do so, I was content with sampling many different things.

Doc, is it possible to do this at the French Laundry or Per Se? Could you say: hold all the other bits and pieces, just give me a main-course sized portion of that butter-poached lobster?