Jean Georges and Nougatine

[Suzanne F]

SG -- We had the same tasting menu 11/1. Amuses were different (I'm kind of glad, I don't think I would have liked the grape/peanut thing either), and the only extra we got was a third dessert plate (but I'm not jealous ). I'm too lazy to provide a link to my post, but I agreed with you all the way through. That foie was incredible! And yes, the caviar did zip up the black cod dish (and I still wish I could drink a quart of the sauce, mmmmmmmmmmm).

We had that Iced Apple Wine with dessert. I can see that it would be excellent with the foie (they paired it with Mombazillac).

[southern girl]

marcus, I have to admit I was tempted not to return after my first experience...but, another eGullet person (I highly regard her opinion re: fine dining) convinced me I should return. My second visit was very good to very good +..the major negative was a reticent waiter (he was not thrilled to have a single female diner on his station). It really did color my perception of the evening. My most current visit was excellent in terms of both food and service. I have also learned how I should dine at JG: I prefer the tasting menu (2nd and 3rd visits) over a la carte (first visit).

Unless I have gotten ill or been treated unfairly or rudely, I generally will give a restaurant a second chance. Especially in the case of a highly regarded restaurant like JG. I do so not because I doubt my own taste, but, because I think there are restaurants where there is a "learning curve". Especially if one is ordering a la carte. There are so many wonderfully tempting dishes...but there are also so many bold flavors and combinations that is easy for the diner unfamiliar with the chef's style to become overwhelmed. I now know how to "navigate" the menu (and service) at JG to ensure a good experience for me. And, I must add, even my "fair" experience the first visit would have put 99% of other restaurants to shame-but, it is hard for even the best to live up to sky high expectations.

[g.johnson]

A disappointing dinner at Jean-Georges on Saturday. Yvonne had the Jean-George tasting menu and I had the autumn menu that Suzanne described. I’m not enough of a writer to give a proper review so just a couple of comments.

Two courses were poorly executed – the young garlic soup was over salted and had an unpleasant raw garlic flavor and the turbot (in a very nice Chateau Chalon sauce) was overcooked. I found the lemon poached lobster much too sweet and thought the dish was misconceived but Suzanne’s rave above suggests that this too may have been poorly prepared. Bay scallops with caper-raisin emulsion was also too sweet. The other dishes were fine but the only the only one in the entire 14 courses that was close to FMJD was the peekytoe crab salad. For $120 a head I had hoped for rather more.

It was especially disappointing given that we had a great meal in the Nougatine room a few weeks ago.

On another thread southern girl has suggested that J-G is inconsistent and the varied experiences here bear that out.

[Suzanne F]

Glyn -- that's probably why I'll never go back to JG (as well as the expense, of course. ) I had such a wonderful experience, for the most part, I'd hate to be disappointed the next time. However, I do still need to try Nougatine ...

[g.johnson]

Nougatine is, if nothing else, a bargain. The tasting menu (5 courses, I recall) is only $65.

[Geepsie]

JG is one of my favorite restaurants. I brought my in-laws there, and on a return visit to NYC, they demanded a return visit! The dishes are always inventive, surprising and delicious. Why has no one

mentioned the Jordan almonds as a L'Arpege knockoff? It is one of Passard's signature tasting menu

dishes (he uses squab). It was quirky, and "interesting" there (our table of four didn't think it worked

all that well, but one forgives the chef for such flights of fancy). I don't think I would be patient with

it as a copycat invention.

Geepsie

[foodboy]

Planning dinner for two on Valentine's Day (yes, I know, that's amateur night for fine dining!). Need a table around 5:30, since we have theater tickets. I understand Nougatine is cheaper and less formal, which is fine by us. How would the food there compare to the main dining room at Jean Georges?

Another question I have is whether Nougatine offers a tasting menu, how much it is and whether it might be possible to be finished by 7:30. Any thoughts?

[yvonne johnson]

There are several threads on N and JG. Try a search clicking on "older posts" (or similar wording) on search page.

I'd opt for N's tasting menu (around $65) over JG's as I thought it was a lot better despite being cheaper. (I posted earlier this month on JG and a few months back on N.) Although I've not been to theater after, I did over-hear waiters ask diners at the early sitting if they were booked for the theater, and I imagine they'd take care of you very well pace-wise, but a tasting menu in 2 hours may be a bit rushed.

[Bond Girl]

I agree with Yvonne that a tasting Menu may be a bit rushed. I've dined at both JG and Nougatine quite often, and got wonderful service there. But, some out of town friends have recently complained about the service at Nougatines, which can be somewhat slack at times. So, I suggest that you inform the server up front that you are on a schedule and need prompt service.

Edited December 30, 2002 by Bond Girl (log)

[Bux]

I'm not a fan of dinner and theater in the same evening. I understand we all have to eat every day, but a great meal deserves it's own evening and good theater deserves less than an overstuffed stomach. From that position, I find Nougatine the better choice for pretheater than Jean Georges. For the same reasons, I'm not inclined to opt for a tasting menu for myself beforfe another event. A really fine meal deserves it's own attention during dinner and after dinner. The last thing I want to do is rush off for another entertainment. I want to savor the great meal. That said, there's no reason you have to have a lousy pretheater dinner and a lighter meal at Nougatine would see an excellent idea to me. For various reasons, I haven't been at either in a long while, but I consider both intelligent restaurant choices in general. One of my other suggestions to people contemplating dinner and theater is a light pretheater dinner of perhaps two courses followed by dessert after the theater. Picholine comes up as a post theater spot for a cheese course, with or without a light dish before or dessert afterwards.

[dargin]

I went to Jean-Georges tonight and had the chef's tasting menu. I had dined at JG last year and thought it was in the top five all time meals (I have been all over top places in NYC and the world). This time the courses came very fast and although good, lacked the, "OH MY GOD" courses I had last year.

Menu;

Amuse Bouche (forget the descriptions - had many drinks)

Egg Cavier

Scallop and Cauliflower

Frog Leg/Garlic Soup

Turbot

Lobster

Squab/Foie

Chocolate tasting

homemade marshmellow - petit four

My point of this post is the last course of the chocolate tasting desert had cocoa puffs (Breakfast cereal) on it. I understand texture and taste and it was very good, but it was odd.

[lxt]

As soon as we stepped into the narrow restaurant lobby that could accommodate no more than three couples at a time, we were introduced to modern minimalism, where the Greco-Roman legacy and the Gothic legacy of the Middle Ages were absorbed by the contemporary style adding another, the joint product of architect and engineer, of the "poetry and prose" of the building arts, which allowed its creators to conjure with upward space. Indeed, once we entered the main dining room, the relationship between space and décor became apparent, reflecting a moderate degree of affluence and elegance. The medium-sized room seemed to have the emphasis on simplicity: the neutral background, the beauty of natural woods and the restraint in color featuring mostly different shades of brown and light taupe palette. A window-wall transparency allowed the room to be flooded with night-light from the vaulted skylights and provided an open airy tone without diminishing the sense of intimacy. The room had a curiously calm and static quality, with no immediate appeal to the emotions but only to reason, enforced by the use of rectangular geometric forms defining patterns for a high coffered ceiling and walls where roundness, in contrast, was expressed only through the shape of tables and banquettes. The only other artistic touch, not to oppose but rather to continue the theme, were gorgeous, very tall, live lilies in the vase built into the center wall and sculptures of a violin on top of the two modest wooden cabinets standing on opposite sides of the room.

The contingent seemed almost to be an accessory to the décor. One wouldn't observe the glitter of cocktail dresses and sheer gowns, retro suits, fedoras and bow ties. It was almost like the whole atmosphere of the room forced women to cover their bare shoulders to merge into the conservatism of clean lines and elegant simplicity of the décor. The nattily, business-like dressed clientele were relatively young.

A family of three with a 6 p.m. reservation, in the eyes of the experienced restaurant staff, perfectly fit the profile of accidental diners whose gastronomic experience would be secondary to the anxious anticipation of a Broadway show. We were seated at a table located most unfortunately right by the entrance, where we could hear the breeze with every party entering the tiny lobby and announcing their names, and where the echo of the noise from the Nougatine room almost assured an unpleasant stereo effect as soon as the main room, which was practically empty upon our arrival, was filled. Our gentle request to be repositioned toward the center or back of the room was graciously satisfied, and we found ourselves occupying a center round table with a great view of the steel globe sculpture outside the floor-to-ceiling window. The tables were very well spaced; so were we around our table, as it became apparent at the end of our dinner, to accommodate the huge size of the plates containing desserts.

We decided to go with a Winter menu and a Jean-Georges tasting, starting with the amuse bouche that arrived on a large white rectangular plate with three delights comprising a composition of bright contrast colors and tastes. We were advised to begin in a direction from left to right with a Greek salad with feta cheese and olive sauce. A tiny, round, toasted brioche hosted a deep-green almost puréed, jellied mixture of vegetables mounded with a scoop of snow-white, soft and silky feta cheese topped with a dark-brown, thin olive sauce. If tried separately, each element of this amuse seemed not to have enough or have too much flavor to stand on its own, but was perfect in combination.

The next step in the amuse progression included cured salmon with sesame oil and sesame powder -- a vibrantly orange cylinder of the very lightly smoked (almost raw), buttery sweet and meltingly rich salmon in a bright-yellow sesame oil had distinctive belts of fat. A stroke of sesame powder, half white (cream-colored) and half black, positioned beside the salmon added a pleasant nutty and earthy tang to the sweet-salty flavor of the salmon and the bitterness of the sesame oil, when used for dipping. It was certainly one of the highlights of the dinner.

The last amuse -- a white sweet potato soup with curry and an apple chip dusted with curry powder -- was presented in a tall glass tube with the paper-thin apple slice visually serving as a lid. A little puddle of curry oil rested on the starchy, puréed white mass, which would've been bland, had the acidity of the apple and the piquant, tropical taste of the curry not added a necessary sharpness for balance.

Each amuse represented a component of the whole composition where the progression toward lighter color, from deep green to bright orange and white with the common element of yellow in the form of oils, was parallel to the progression of tastes, from light and airy green salad to buttery fish and starchy soup. It was quite enjoyable and very nicely done.

Winter Menu - Foie Gras Brulée, Pineapple Gelée.

In a clever twist on a crème brulée, the foie gras was processed almost to the state of creaminess, topped with a typical crème brulée sugar glaze and served on a toasted brioche saturated with pineapple juice. Several strokes of a bright-yellow, slightly gelatinized pineapple purée with sparks of red chili pepper completed the composition. The dish was interesting in how the buttery richness of foie gras was combined with the extreme lightness of the custard concept. It maximized the flavor of foie gras and at the same time transformed a dense texture into an airy, silky-smooth and light consistency. All the elements had to be eaten in combination to fully appreciate the essence of the dish. The sugar glaze gave a nice crunch to the custard and in combination with the pineapple purée presented a very pleasant balance of sweetness and citrus-savory acidity. My original attempt to sample the dish without the pineapple purée resulted in a less favorable assessment of the flavor balance, which seemed to lack the counterpart to sweetness.

Jean-Georges Menu - Egg Caviar.

A large round plate supported a smaller rectangular plate, which in its turn held a bowl with crystals of coarse fleur de sel serving as an anchor for a shiny, brown and what seemed to be soft-boiled egg, the shell of which was sliced at the top to make room for vodka- and lemon-infused whipped cream and caviar crowning the egg like a fancy bonnet. The layered edifice of plates added a visual effect of an altar where the egg was the centerpiece

The lingering taste of egg that is always present independently of what technique is utilized to prepare it can never give me enough sense of luxury that the texture of the egg or the fancy accompaniments could otherwise suggest. Neither caviar nor truffles can bring eggs to the next level of sophisticated dining experience for me, and are similar to blini, which will never rise above being just tiny pancakes from the nearest Deli even if served with caviar. Perhaps I am influenced by my childhood experience where eggs with caviar for breakfast were associated with each morning's pre-school routine, and blini with caviar with large family gatherings, but I can't judge merits of this dish objectively though I'll try to isolate my prejudice in describing it.

The scrambled -- not soft-boiled -- egg was milky and tender and had a jelly-like, melt-in-the-mouth texture. The light acidity of the cream and saltiness of the caviar gave the egg a nice compound flavor. The caviar had an unusually mild taste, very firm medium-size beads and a light-gray color. It was certainly not Beluga, the grains of which are much larger and have a little mushy texture. I also could recognize it as neither Osetra, which has a very distinctive nutty flavor and a brown-to-black-color beads, nor Sevruga, which has tiny grains and a very intense sea flavor. While I was attempting to decipher the origin of the caviar, my "archeological" diggings were noticed by our captain, who rushed with the answer to our table. The caviar appeared to come from a rare form of sturgeon, Ship sturgeon (also known as Thorn sturgeon). I hadn't had the pleasure to try this specimen before, and was pleased with the mild and clean flavor. In retrospect, this could've been one of the best executions of an egg dish, but I was left unmoved.

The second course:

Winter Menu - Peekytoe Crab Salad, Fuji Apple, Hot Mustard Froth.

An oversized, white plate with a wavy relief pattern as though permeated by a bundle of transparent stripes held, in its central crater, what appeared to be an infinitesimally small amount of chartreuse-colored foam topped with three slices of sweet and crisp Fuji apple. The bubbly and airy mustard spume swathed the layer of pink, shredded peekytoe meat resting on a cake of jellied cucumber puree. The mustard froth retained its ethereal airiness until the dish was entirely gone. It did, however, give the slightly sweet and delicate crab a tingle of pungent sharpness instead of overwhelming the taste of the meat with a rich mayo. The much cooler cucumber purée with a soft, succulent texture had a refreshing effect in combination with the warm crabmeat and along with the apple served to offset the mustard flavor of the foam. It was important to take all elements of the dish together to experience the maximum effect. My experiments to try each constituent in isolation weren't very successful: the cucumber purée was just bland, the mustard froth was too sharp, and the unadorned crabmeat tasted too plain.

Jean-Georges Menu - Sea Scallops with Caper-Raisin Emulsion, Caramelized Cauliflower.

Two of what looked like the horizontal halves of one plump scallop in a scoop of a mustard-colored sauce of a dense consistency were placed side by side on the rimmed center of the large, white plate. Each nicely browned scallop half was topped with a thin slice of crisp and lightly caramelized cauliflower floret. The scallop was garnished with fresh parsley, and sprinkles of nutmeg completed the composition. By the time I received this dish, the sauce was gone; therefore my conclusions are not complete. The scallop had a crisp top with almost translucent flesh underneath. The surprise was that the cauliflower had such an intense flavor that it became the focus of the dish where the scallop seemed to provide only a cushioning texture. My assumption is that both the scallop and the cauliflower relied on the sauce for flavor completion, and without it, I don't think I was able to appreciate the dish fully.

The third course:

Winter Menu - Steamed Japanese Sticky Rice, Wilted Bouquet of Mushrooms, Ginger Sake Dressing.

White sticky rice with thin slices of shiitake mushrooms piled on top came in a rice bowl. An accompanying warm, tan-colored, ginger-sake dressing with grated ginger sunk to the bottom was set in a separate small sauce holder. I was advised to pour the ginger sauce into the bowl with rice and mushrooms a little at a time. If the level of the rice’s stickiness were measured by appraising how well it stuck to one's teeth, this version would've had the highest grade. Neither rice nor mushrooms had a distinctive flavor when sampled alone. However, upon being saturated with the sweet and tingling dressing, the rice grains separated and acquired a plummier and firmer feel along with a mild sweetness. The spongy texture of the mushrooms absorbed the dressing to bring out the gentle fragrance of sake. With all its cleverness and chameleon-like flavor possibilities, I didn't enjoy this dish much.

Jean-Georges Menu - Young Garlic Soup with Thyme, Sautéed Frog Legs.

The soup was arranged at our table, and upon being poured onto the plates, released the bouquet of sweet garlic and thyme aromas. Two (?) sautéed frog legs were placed on the side of the soup plate, and the captain instructed us to saturate the frog legs with the garlic broth. The yellowish liquid was rich and warming but not too pungent. The density of the soup achieved by adding beaten eggs with the vinegar (not cream), according to our captain, gave the broth a pleasing creaminess but with a lusciously light texture. The tender translucent garlic slivers barely had a flavor and rather built a bulk for the soup. The floating sprinkles of tiny, fresh lemon thyme provided a nice lemon tang and added color to the dish. Despite the frog legs being a little overdone, though nicely browned on the outside, when coated by the smooth broth, they acquired a nice balanced flavor. The broth serving as a dipping sauce for the frog legs was still delicate enough to be enjoyed as a separate dish. I enjoyed this dish quite a bit.

The fourth course:

Winter Menu - Slowly Cooked Chatham Cod, Potato "Noodles", Crème Fraîche, Vodka and Caviar.

This is where the expression that caviar served properly (and the union of crème fraîche, vodka and caviar was made in heaven) can turn any meal into an event proves accurate.

A thick fillet of snowy-white cod with off-white stripes visually demarcating the large flakes was mounded on elastic potato ribbons bathed in the transparently-white and vodka-infused crème fraîche froth. A generous amount of the thorn caviar set atop the fish provided a beautiful contrast in color, and the intensely red flakes of chili pepper highlighted the composition. I like having cod in the winter as the meat is at its best this time of the year. It was moist, lean and had a mild and clean flavor, but it would've been neutral in taste had it not been for the accompaniments. The caviar gave the cod a perfect level of saltiness along with the luxury of the caviar texture and accentuated the clean and mild fish flavor on a more intense level. The combination of crème fraîche acidity, vodka, and chili peppers had an interesting tang lightly reminiscent of mustard. The potatoes were half cooked and had a raw crunch in them while still maintaining enough elasticity to be curled like pasta on the plate. Because of the texture, the potatoes assumed the role of vegetables rather than starch. It was an enjoyable dish.

Jean-Georges Menu - Turbot in a Château Chalon Sauce, Tomato and Zucchini.

A white, firm, flat fillet of turbot was centered on a plate in a deep-yellow Château Chalon sauce. A stripe of finely chopped green zucchini and tomato topped and visually bisected the fish lengthwise. The fish was sadly overdone. The zucchini was barely cooked and had a firm texture, and the sauce had a little sweet and nutty tang. I am not sure how the dish would've been had the fish been properly cooked, but of the two fish dishes, the turbot was less enjoyable.

The fifth course:

Winter Menu - Lemon Poached Lobster, Winter Vegetable Tapioca and Fragrant Gewûrztraminer Froth.

Slices of the moist tail meat were buried in the soap-like bubbles of the Gewûrztraminer froth and under the assortment of very lightly sautéed diced red and yellow beets, cucumber, pineapple and the sweet tapioca pearls. The waiter poured the chili(?)- based rich-brown sauce on top of the foam, painting several artistic circles around the pile of other ingredients. The meat was saturated with a distinct lemon flavor and was tender but not mushy. The sweetness of the meat was somewhat suppressed by the natural sweetness of the accompanying vegetables, but it harmonized well with the lobster's texture. The Gewûrztraminer foam with its varietal flavor of fruit and complementary balance of acid was a continuation of the vegetable/fruit theme, but the chili sauce zing brought the sharpness of spices along with it. Overall, this was a nice dish.

Jean-Georges Menu -Lobster Tartine, Lemongrass, Fenugreek Broth and Pea Shoots.

A toasted piece of baguette, which served as a structural support for the carefully arranged meat of a lobster tail and a small claw roofed with fresh and perky pea shoots, was set in a sandy brown-colored broth. A very lightly sautéed Thai long string bean was curled around the sandwich, and a dusting of bright orange, dry lobster roe was sprinkled over the plate, adding a nice final touch to the composition. The broth had a rich flavor and was reminiscent of a light Tom Yum Gung in texture and taste excluding the level of spiciness. It was interesting to compare the effect of the lemon grass on the lobster meat versus the lemon in the poached lobster dish from the Winter menu. Though this dish was nicely done, of the two lobster courses, we preferred the winter menu one.

The sixth course:

Winter Menu - Pheasant, Spiced Cocoa Emulsion, Black Truffle Gnocchi

Instead of the anticipated dish of gamy venison in which my consort developed an intense interest after he first sampled it at Daniel and which was indicated on the Winter menu we obtained in advance from the restaurant, we received venison-reminiscent, though still distinctly poultry-tasting, gamy pheasant. Five overlapping medallions of pheasant lightly brushed with mildly spiced, thin cocoa emulsion were centered on the plate. A stroke of puréed, dark olive-green spinach sauce was set alongside the medallions piled with short and thin slices of nicely browned fries and black truffle gnocchi tossed sketchily on top. The meat was moist despite the lack of fat, and the truffles added the subtle enigma of their pervasive perfume. The spinach sauce added a little bitter earthy flavor to the dish. The fries were not deep-fried but still had a little crunch in them and, as my daughter noted -- and I love when she makes her innocent observations -- it tasted just like at grandma's. Indeed, had the dish not been enhanced with the perfume of the "black diamond," it would've very much been like grandma's cooking. The rusticity of this dish seemed not to correspond to the exquisite and peculiar looking black-striped, pentagonal modern plate on which it was served.

Jean-Georges Menu -Broiled Squab, Onion Compote, Corn Pancake with Foie Gras.

A split and deboned squab with the skin broiled to a perfect golden crispness and the flesh cooked rare rested in a puddle of the thin, intense, sweet, onion compote (minus the onion solids) on the rectangular plate. The moist, dark meat had a rich and very succulent taste with an accent of the wild and was quite delicate in texture. The contrast and the perfection of the crispy skin with the tender meat were very pleasing. The dish was garnished with baby arugula salad drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice. The corn pancake with foie gras rested on the side of the plate, and a dusting of curry powder was generously applied over all elements of the dish.

When my gentle daughter presented me with the dilemma of explaining the origin of squab, I couldn't find a plausible euphemism for "30-day-old-baby-pigeon-before-it-learns-to-fly" to make the concept of killing a baby pigeon for food sound more appealing, nor did I think that my quite rational arguments, that historically, pigeons have played a significant role in the survival of our ancestors when they were living as hunters and gatherers, could have increased the level of her appreciation and had a desirable effect on her perceiving the dish at the level it deserved. My logical explanation was that a squab is, well,... a bird. I did well this time, and we all enjoyed this dish very much.

The seventh course (desserts):

The dessert menu was constructed of four options (Chocolate, Exotic, Citrus and Caramel), each of which represented an assortment of four tasting size desserts. We were entitled to three choices, but were presented with the fourth one as a compliment of the house, which was an extremely nice gesture from our captain. Since dessert provides an important completion to my dining, and I treat it with the same expectation and care as I would other courses, my heart was pounding in anticipation of the upcoming adventure. However, very sadly, my expectations weren't met. I won't go into details, but rather mention the desserts I enjoyed the most. We thought that the Exotic group of small desserts was the strongest among the four. I particularly enjoyed "Banana Beignets, Sesame Poppy Dulce de Leche" and "Coconut Riz au Lait, Passion Mint Sorbet." In the group of Chocolate desserts, the only one that attracted my attention was "Chocolate Caramel Mousse, Hazelnut Succès, Salted Peanuts." I didn't much care for the mousse, but the peanuts in the honey-based sauce poured on the plate at our table were wonderful.

A personalized birthday dessert (one of us was lucky to turn another page of his life that day) was too much for me to handle at the end, and I was able only to admire it from a distance. A tiny tray of little chocolates had the same fate, as did marshmallows brought to every table in a cart, where long strips were cut into small cubes by scissors right in front of you.

We had a glass of Brut Rosé Salmon-Billecart to start, a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape Les Cailloux, Andre Brunel, 1997 which our sommelier praised (noting that though 1997 wasn't a good year for Chateuneuf du Pape, this particular wine happened to be surprisingly good and he managed to get only eleven bottles), and finished with a glass of Mas Amiel, a sweet wine from Southwest France.

During our lengthy four-hour dinner, the restaurant's service was elegant and meticulous, worthy of the admiration of even the most discerning diner. After a slow start where we had to convince our captain that we were indeed interested in food and were not "tourists," we experienced the heights of what service can and should be. When compared to Daniel, at Jean-Georges the service was more engaged. My food-related questions were answered with extreme knowledge and willingness. I could admire a red flake in a Cod dish and have a captain, who would notice my interest, whispering in my ear that it was a flake of chili pepper the next minute. They managed to make themselves available right at the moment when you needed them despite the full house. Even if one preferred not to be noticed, I wonder whether it would've been possible. For instance, having a little trouble with the squab, at some point I gave up on my fork and, I thought, discreetly used my hands. As soon as I was done, I was the only one at our table facing a bowl of lemoned water and rose petals placed in front of me by a smiling waiter.

The water and wine glasses were always full. The utensils were placed with care and, if accidentally touched by the staff, were immediately replaced. We were helped in and out of the table. The dishes were covered to be kept warm for the duration of our absence, and if one of us happened to leave the table at the moment the next hot course was on its way, we were asked how the dish should be handled for the absentee. If one of us happened to spot the tablecloth, a fabric napkin was placed to cover the dirt. Based on one visit, I am not sure whether the quality of the service is consistent at Jean-Georges, but in our case, it was truly inspired.

Overall:

With regard to our dinner, we thought that the seasonal tasting was more interesting than the Jean-Georges tasting, and that the desserts, though beautifully presented, were the weakest part of the dinner.

With regard to the general concept:

I enjoyed analyzing and discussing each dish afterwards, admiring the cleverness and logical progression of some of the courses. I enjoyed analyzing the difference between Daniel's cuisine – where each element of a dish is independent and can be enjoyed either solo or in concert, and where one can observe how each accompaniment of the dish enhances the main element one at a time – and Jean-Georges' cuisine, where each dish is presented as an integrated whole with each element contributing a texture modification, innovative spicing, or temperature contrast, and where on top of everything one can get a world tour of Russia, India, China and Thailand in one dinner. However, aside from the fact that some of the dishes or dish elements were overdone, which indicates execution inconsistency, I was left either unmoved or neutral to some of the dishes or flavor combinations on a purely sensual level, as much as I enjoyed the concept behind them.

To express my final thoughts on Jean-Georges: In writing, the subtle combination of the traditional use of words plus an indefinable personal choice of them, the invention of new meanings, the giving of an old phrase a new twist, is what we call style. Jean-George certainly has a well-defined "language" and his own style in which he describes a compound blending of tradition with his own original contribution. However, Jean-Georges' style requires that a diner learn his "language" to avoid deconstructing his dishes into separate elements, for instance, and I wonder whether Jean-Georges needs more than one visit, for me, at least, to be able to fully enjoy its concepts and mastery.

[CathyL]

Superb report, lxt. You captured JG's "language" of flavor perfectly. Sorry to hear the desserts are still not up to the caliber of the other dishes.

[scamhi]

After Daniel and Jean Georges- where's next for you lxt?

I feel slightly full after reading your 4 hour marathon.

[wingding]

I was disappointed by the desserts both times that I visited JG,by the work of both pastry chefs.Great craftsmanship-not enough clarity of flavors.Too much going on at the end of a long meal.The desserts at Jojo,years ago,were far superior to me.Much less fuss,much more flavor.

[mikeczyz]

Jean-Georges Menu - Egg Caviar.

A large round plate supported a smaller rectangular plate, which in its turn held a bowl with crystals of coarse fleur de sel serving as an anchor for a shiny, brown and what seemed to be soft-boiled egg, the shell of which was sliced at the top to make room for vodka- and lemon-infused whipped cream and caviar crowning the egg like a fancy bonnet.  The layered edifice of plates added a visual effect of an altar where the egg was the centerpiece

THis is the dish on the cover of vongerichten book simple to spectacular, yes? i just read through the recipe and it seems to match.

mike

[Christopher]

Jean-Georges Menu - Egg Caviar.

Funny, this dish rocked me. I still remember savoring it with a 1979 Gruner Veltliner. Not sure about the caviar. I believe I had it with Osetra but that could be faulty recall as it's been 4 years.

[pixelchef]

Another gorgeous report, lxt. Great writing. I felt like I was there.

[lxt]

Superb report, lxt.    You captured JG's "language" of flavor perfectly.  Sorry to hear the desserts are still not up to the caliber of the other dishes.

Thank you Cathy. Unfortunately, the desserts weren’t quite up to the level one would expect. The idea of having a variety of small desserts following the same theme was interesting, but as we were discussing it afterwards, it seemed that the most successful desserts were the lighter-textured or fruit-based ones. When the concept required a rich, luscious flavor as in the chocolate desserts, the result just didn’t have enough body, creaminess and silkiness. It seemed that the chef followed a concept similar to that of the main courses attempting to pursue the light and airy approach in constructing these desserts. However, in our opinion it didn't seem to work well, especially with chocolate.

After Daniel and Jean Georges- where's next for you lxt?

I feel slightly full after reading your 4 hour marathon.

scamhi, I am recuperating and taking suggestions for now. Which one would you like to hear about next?

THis is the dish on the cover of vongerichten book simple to spectacular, yes?  i just read through the recipe and it seems to match.

mikeczyz, that’s the one.

Funny, this dish rocked me. I still remember savoring it with a 1979 Gruner Veltliner. Not sure about the caviar. I believe I had it with Osetra but that could be faulty recall as it's been 4 years.

Christopher, it is my personal relationship with eggs that prevented me from fully enjoying the dish, though I could recognize the superiority of its execution. I just couldn’t judge this dish objectively on a purely sensual level. After years and years of consuming the same combination of flavors, I became unable to acknowledge eggs, especially with caviar, in any execution as an extraordinary and superior dining experience.

Osetra was caviar originally used, and actually Patrick, our captain, did mention that the flavor of the Thorn caviar they used was supposed to be close to Osetra, though I didn’t find a similarity other than in size of the beads. From what I was able to gather, Thorn caviar became available to the American market relatively recently. It is a little cheaper then Osetra though is very limited in quantity. As I mentioned before, I hadn’t had a chance to try it previously while living in Russia for many years. I don’t think it was available at that time since this is a newcomer.

pixelchef, thank you.

[lizziee]

lxt,

Wonderful post. I completely agree with you re the Japanese sticky rice dish --- I didn't like it all.

I thought Patrick was the GM at JG, not the Captain.

[Robin Meredith]

We were seated at a table located most unfortunately right by the entrance, where we could hear the breeze with every party entering the tiny lobby and announcing their names, and where the echo of the noise from the Nougatine room almost assured an unpleasant stereo effect as soon as the main room, which was practically empty upon our arrival, was filled.

They tried to foist that table off on us, too...after keeping us waiting for 45 minutes. When we insisted on moving, we were told that some regulars request that table every time they come in (inference - "so why were we complaining?"). They did move us, but making a ridiculous assertion like that diminished the graciousness of the gesture. We ended up in a better location, but right next to a woman who got progressively more inebriated and more hostile toward her companion as the night progressed. Bad karma, for sure.

A white, firm, flat fillet of turbot was centered on a plate in a deep-yellow Château Chalon sauce.  A stripe of finely chopped green zucchini and tomato topped and visually bisected the fish lengthwise.  The fish was sadly overdone.  The zucchini was barely cooked and had a firm texture, and the sauce had a little sweet and nutty tang.  I am not sure how the dish would've been had the fish been properly cooked, but of the two fish dishes, the turbot was less enjoyable.

Sorry to hear about the shortcomings in the preparation - this dish was simply astonishing during our last visit. The fish, although properly prepared, was almost a non-entity, but that sauce!!!! I don't think I've ever been quite so blown away by the simple art of saucemaking. I also don't recall any vegetable garnishes, which I think would just be a distraction from the simple purity of that sauce.

Edited March 26, 2003 by Robin Meredith (log)

[lxt]

One more thing I’d like to add. We were served two types of bread, French roll and rye, with butter and Armando Manni’s Olive oil, which comes from Southern Tuscany and which was so wonderful that it deserves to be mentioned. The oil had a pretty strong and complex flavor, bitter, sweet and soothing at the same time, with a persistent finish in your mouth, and it was wonderful with the rye bread. A tiny amount of this oil literally exploded with flavors in your mouth. I was disappointed with the rye bread which seemed to be bland up until I tried it with the oil. I know that aside from Jean-Georges, Vincenti in LA features this oil as well. What I don’t know is whether it is available at retail.

Lizziee, I didn’t understand the rice dish at all. It was so out of context with the rest of the dishes flavor-wise that I almost thought the purpose of this course was to serve as a palate refreshment just to prepare you for the next course. Considering that I had only one visit to Jean Georges, I may well be mistaken about Patrick’s job status; if so, my apologies. However, he was the person who graciously helped us through the whole dinner.

[lxt]

"Just a block or two more…," rushed through my head as I was on my way to Jean-Georges. It was a subconscious acknowledgement of being utterly exhausted from the persuasions, meetings, intellectual strain and physical fatigue of the day that could easily transform constructive spiritual energy into a useless inertial reverie. It seemed that nothing could cure the apathy of senses and mind until the faint radiance of an electric heart pulsing through the grand, transparent, 25-foot glass walls of the Nougatine room awoke awe and tranquility.

“Without a glass palace, life becomes a burden,” said Paul Scheerbart. The house of glass, without carved or painted ornament, rich only in the inherent beauty of its lines and extraordinarily brutish in its simplicity, filled everything around with its mechanical “breathing.”

My consort was awaiting me at the round, wooden table, facing the entrance and the congested bar where we could observe the trendy and elegant, young and well-groomed crowd that seemed not to suffer from the claws of claustrophobia tugging at their subconscious. I enjoyed the frosted glass entrance door, conveying a checkerboard theme that unobtrusively infiltrated every element of the interior design from the marble floor and tablemats, alternating beige and white rectangular patterns, to the wooden backs of the chairs. It seemed that the only disturbance of the structural order of the room was brought about by huge bouquets of brightly orange-pink peonies artfully arranged on two sides of the bar.

It was our first visit to the Nougatine room, and we expected it to be a reminder of Jean-George’s style of subtle and classic, augmented by delicate exotic touches. However, we faced quite a surprise -- but one thing at a time.

A small amuse of two-layered apple soup, with thin brownish cider on the bottom and thick white, pillowy goat cheese with yellow-green puddles of chive oil floating atop, opened our dinner. The goat cheese layer was of a whipped cream consistency, though with a slightly pungent tang and a bit denser so that on the first sip the bottom layer of the liquid cider didn’t make its way through. The cream was overwhelmed by cinnamon and cardamom spicing until the apple cider mixed with the foam and suppressed other flavors with its strong sweet and sour notes. This amuse was shockingly sweet, sour and heavily spiced, and though I could appreciate the new interpretation of the apple/cinnamon/cream concept and the inventive touch behind the execution, the strong flavors seemed to be too disturbing for a starter, and I had to clear my mouth with water for the next dish.

Butternut Squash and Sweet Potato Soup, Maple Crème, Crispy Lentils

There is no novelty in a hearty, winter, yellow-orange-fleshed squash soup: the dish, I enthusiastically ignored as a child but seem to have fallen in love with at an older age; the dish that tends to remind me that winter has its own earthy pleasures. However, a little twist of dry, roasted lentils and a maple crème fraiche “turned the pumpkin into a carriage.”

A deep, white bowl contained dark-brown dry, roasted(?) lentils that produced a little cracking sound as the plate was shifted before being settled on the table. A contrasting dash of white crème fraiche, positioned in the center of the plate on top of the lentils, was pierced by a small sprig of parsley. As the velvety, heavy purée reluctantly released itself from the pot, while being poured slowly into the plate, it drowned all other ingredients so that only wet parsley floated to the surface. You could see how the crème fraiche slowly started amalgamating with the purée, leaving rainbow signature trails.

The puree had a density of stiff peaks, with a smooth taste enveloping the mouth with its intense well-seasoned flavor lacking any sweetness. It is only when the crème unleashed its strong maple sugariness, that the soup, like a chameleon, changed its ‘skin’ to a much milder version with just a touch of sweetness accented by the nutty, roasted flavor of crunchy lentils, which seemed not to loose its crispiness through the whole ceremony. A combination of a very distinctive squash flavor, roasted lentils, and a “foreign” sweetness wrapped in a slightly sour crème made the soup fantastic. This dish was a highlight of our dinner.

Crab Salad, Mango, Red Onion, Croutons and Cardamom Infusion

A cake of diced crab meat adorned with finely chopped onion and medium-sized mango cubes, adding a festive touch to the pale gamma of colors, and crunchy oily croutons were topped with a green “hat” of mache salad and sat in a thin cardamom sauce with floating green puddles of, perhaps, parsley oil that echoed the color of the mache, looking almost like a reflection of the leaves.

The crab meat was not very sweet, but had a nice freshness cheered by the sweetness of the mango and offset by the distinct taste of olive oil lent by the crunchy croutons. The sauce, however, was slightly too acidic for the delicate flavors of the other components, in our opinion. This was a nice appetizer that would not make a bookmark in your memory files.

Terrine of Foie Gras, Cinnamon Toast, Quince Purée and Chamomile Syrup.

A well-toasted, round brioche served as a podium for a light-beige cylinder of foie gras terrine, generously sprinkled with coarse salt and pepper, and was set on the side of the plate’s crater in transparent, slightly glutinous chamomile syrup, which penetrated every pore of the brioche with its gentle moistness and sweetness. Two plump strokes of yellow quince purée shaped a handle connecting to the brioche, and a last touch of freshly grated cinnamon completed the composition.

The foie gras was almost uniformly pink inside, but it was served too cold and was hard, so that the potential velvety luster was masked, leaving only the butter aftertaste to prevail. “Tastes like chocolate butter,” said my consort. Indeed, one of the childhood treats I could recall was the chocolate butter that, for some reason, was served always right out of the refrigerator and was, sometimes, spread on bread. The foie gras’ texture, and even its buttery aftertaste, reminded me of this dish.

The chamomile syrup had a slightly herbal accent with almost undetectable sweetness echoed in the quince purée which was reminiscent of a baby food. It wasn’t a bad appetizer, however, but the temperature at which it was served certainly affected the overall impression.

As we ordered our appetizers, we asked our waiter for his recommendation with respect to the order in which the progression of flavors would increase naturally. I inquired whether the tuna tartare should be one of the first starters based on the assumption that the mild flesh of the raw fish would best be experienced at the beginning. He, however, insisted that the tuna dish should be served last, and he was certainly right.

Bluefin Tuna Tartare, Avocado, Spicy Radish and Ginger Marinade.

An elliptical burger of finely diced tuna, on a bed of pale-green, creamy avocado purée, topped with thin, large radish rounds, rested in a soup of brown-red soy and ginger marinade. The tuna had such a soft texture that the impression left was that of its being slightly pounded with a mallet. The avocado purée, as it was dissolving into the marinade, brought out the vague reminiscence of wasabi texture. It was an interesting concept, but the spice infatuation with pungent, salty ginger marinade, chili oil and bitter radish was simply too overpowering for the mellow smooth avocado, and buttery tuna, to offset the spice and stand out. It was a very direct and strong-flavored appetizer where the tuna seemed to have merely provided a body with its taste being subjugated to other strong condiments, and I enjoyed this dish the least.

Butter Poached Maine Lobster, Brussels Sprouts and Mustard Fondue, Fried Red Bliss Potato with Passion Fruit Wine Sauce.

I was in the mood for lobster and was certainly looking forward to this dish. However, it was not to my taste, and I was slightly disappointed.

Two pairs of tails and claws were mounded side by side on a shaved Brussels sprouts with two slices of fried, crunchy potato rounds in between. A thin wine and soy(?) sauce, poured on top of the edifice, flavored the lobster meat with acidity, covering the plate with its dark-brown jus. The crunchy Brussels sprouts saturated with the mustard had a hefty bitter taste, which was slightly offset by the neutral potato starch. The passion fruit was undistinguishable in the wine sauce, which lent rather a sour and acidic tang, consuming the other elements of the dish with its dominance so that the sweet and tender lobster taste was basically lost between the mustard and the wine sauce.

I haven’t had a lobster dish, other than enjoying its simplest rendition in a shell with a melted butter in the summer, since my visit a year ago to Blue Hill where the lobster was served in a gentle and subtle broccoli sauce, which only stressed the sweetness of the meat rather than suppressed it. I appreciated the Blue Hill version more, and perhaps this comparison reflects my personal taste, preventing me from objectively evaluating the dish at Nougatine.

Soy and Sweet Wine Lacquered Veal Cheeks, Celery, Jalapeno and Apple Salad.

Braised veal cheeks, resting on a pale-beige, creamy celery purée, appeared buried under a roof of mixed thinly chopped crunchy celery, rounds of burning hot, fresh green jalapeno, medium-sized thin slices of sour-sweet green apple and a fresh herb, which I can’t recall now, but which added the same emerald nuance to the salad palette. The cheeks were wonderful – dark, shiny from the glaze and meltingly tender, with a soft rustle of silk. The celery purée, with a strong initial celery tang, released a spice as an aftertaste from, perhaps, red pepper. The sweetness of the glaze merged with its counterparts and was not so distinct when all elements were eaten together. I enjoyed this course, though I found myself pushing the jalapenos aside, as they seemed too strong for the apples to offset and too powerful for the meat, leaving literally a burning sensation in the mouth.

We had conflicting feelings about our experience at Nougatine, and perhaps more visits will resolve our confusion. It was not only that the Asian theme ran strongly through almost every dish, it is that the flavors were aggressive, direct and quite often instead of augmenting the main element of the dish to bring out its utmost flavors or allow it to interweave with other accompaniments in a perfect ensemble, it was simply overpowered and suppressed, dulling the senses and lacking roundness of flavor. I have no reason to believe that our visit was an off-night experience. The rendition of each dish was perfect, with seasonal ingredients at their best. I found the concepts of many dishes intriguing and far beyond the point of boredom, but our impression of the restaurant was as controversial as Bruce Nauman’s contributions to the American art.

[Pan]

Thanks for another great review. We are blessed to have your contributions.

[Felonius]

lxt, I have had similar experiences at Nougatine. I live nearby and have eaten there many times over the past several years. I often go due to convenience factors (the $20.01 prix fix lunch is a bargain, easy access to Lincoln Center for pre-theater dining, space available at the bar as a walk-in, etc).

While I have had some excellent dishes at Nougatine, I have found that often they present an unorthodox or overly ambitious flavor combination that just doesn't suit my palate. I can still remember a lobster dish from over a year ago in which the lobster's flavor was completely lost in a mix of heavy-handed cumin and some acidic fruit essence. The whole thing was just weird and rather unpleasant tasting. I also have found the soups to be over-salted to my taste on many occasions. My favorite dishes have tended to be simpler classics such as roast chicken or short ribs. The $20 lunch is still a complete bargain, and Nougatine is far better than anything else near Lincoln Center. Given the number of misses from the kitchen in the past year, I've stopped frequenting Nougatine.

I hadn't eaten in the main dining room at Jean-Georges for several years, and my experiences at Nougatine had led me to believe that I would likely be disappointed after laying the hefty sum required for admission to the inner sanctum. How wrong I was!

The two meals I've had from the regular JG menu in the past month have been out of this world - some of the most memorable of the year. They also feature somewhat exotic/unusual flavor combinations and presentations, but with a much greater level of integration and subtlety than at Nougatine. The concept and execution of the food in the main dining room is light years ahead of that being served in Nougatine in my opinion.

Nougatine is still a bargain if one is ordering from a prix-fixe menu. However, it can get fairly expensive if one begins to order several courses a la carte. In that case, I'd rather fork out the difference and get the real thing in the main dining room, or head to other options in the Nougatine price range (Cafe Boulud and Mix for example).