In de Wulf is archetypal Michelin European restaurant – historic, remote, inn, spaced tables, the studied chef returning home – romantic circumstance and back story worth the journey. And you feel it turning off onto the dirt road, driving along a tractor’s path through an endless summer. A farm protected on three sides by greenery – a wulf. In de Wulf – how could it not be a cuisine of the land, seasons, of vegetables, wild and farmed, pickled or picked on the day? With white puffs in the sky, white spotted the nearby fields, crouched, with bags in tow.² A request for a vegetable menu later was questioned by Chef Kobe Desramaults table-side: “We do not serve much meat here anyways”, he said with a smile.

After the seafood courses, during the meat of the meal, Kobe served four consecutive vegetables courses. This is it, i told myself, this is the meal I’ve been searching for. There were noma influences, as many progressive restaurants exhibit nowadays, but this was different. Herbs are integral to dishes, often just one or two stems or flowers, but they do a disproportionate amount of work to bring a dish in focus. And it’s here where the restaurant distinguishes itself in my opinion – for its minimalism. There is an austerity, in look and mouthfeel, when a few stems or flowers are binding or augmenting the flavors – without luscious fat or the liquid kick of a citrus acid.

Pickled Rhubarb

Onion Flour, Onion dust, Cheese (inside)

Savory Cookie

Marinated Carrots, Chicken skin

This was a meal from last September so it would little resemble one tomorrow. Chef Kobe has long read the blog so I was known; and, surprisingly, Linda Violago was our server, as she was a few years prior at Mugaritz. Despite sitting in the darkest seat, most of the pictures turned out rather well.

Amuses are served in the lounge as you amble down from your room. This is the country and there are no reservations – just be down by 7pm. The bites themselves are not remarkable but, together, they touch on the major tastes in a variety of textures. The themes of the evening are introduced in this series – pickled, dairy, vegetables, and bitterness. And, most importantly, the diminutive herb as focus.

Fried Potato, Buttermilk, Cream

Fried Beet / Beet Yogurt

And then you move to the main dining room.

Dairy is used throughout the cooking but rarely for its luscious and excessive qualities; instead, for the sting of its acids or a soothing, not decadent, finish. It is sparse and light. In North Sea crab, lightly warmed, the sweet crab notes were gently augmented by the lemony tang of purslane and a touch of sour buttermilk. It is impressive because of its restraint – every drop is meaningful. With the North Sea oyster, the whey sauce’s acid, with an herb, maintained a focus on a plump oyster as it oscillated between briny and, with the cabbage, sweet.

“North sea” crab, buttermilk, purslane

“North sea” oyster, mussel, Ox heart cabbage, horseradish snow, whey sauce

Poached Quail eggs, Celery, Chevril, Bread crumbs

“Zeebrugge” scallop, fermented carrot

The next two dishes showed two extremes of Kobe’s cooking but they also paired well together, following the most austere dish of the night with its most decadent. Carrots fermented in carrot juice lacked all sweetness but they had a hint of acidity that cut through a sweet, clean scallop that had been barely warmed by the middle.

Dunkerque lobster, so sweet and barely warmed, was fatty and delicious; even more so when paired with the buttermilk potatoes, which had an aligot quality. The minimalism of the previous dish made this feel debauched. But, in depravity, the peppery nasturtium, four sprigs, balanced everything evenly with the tang of the buttermilk. After a bite of the potatoes, the nasturtium continued to cut the lobster.

Back to back, these two dishes showed the extremes of the cooking at In de Wulf – where pristine ingredients with very clear, and clean, flavors are treated with restraint and confidence.

“Dunkerque” lobster, buttermilk potatoes, nasturtium

Plaice fish with leek dish showed how a protein and vegetable could play off of each other on opposite sides of the plate – as equals. The textures of the gelatinous fish and braised leek shared similarities – the fish with its umami-like gelatinous flesh and the leeks with their mussel stock braised fibrous stalks. The leeks brought a sweetness to the gelatinous sensations in the mouth while the intensely acidic herbs pierced through both. Reversing the title would have yielded the same dish.

Plaice with roasted bones sauce, summer leeks, herb

Walnuts, Celery water, Aged-ham shavings, Celery puree

And then, when others serve meat, In de Wulf went full-vegetable.

In Walnuts, celery water was reduced to a viscous, complex sweetness and 2-year aged ham shavings lingered in the background with their very salty notes. Charred beans were special – there was a strong bitterness from the bean’s char and a forceful brightness of sorrel; but the creaminess of the cheese tempered both and fused the dish together. And the roasted baby cauliflower followed a similar formula – bitter intensity with soothing cream.

Charred beans, Goat cheese from “Uxem”, Wood sorrel

Onions “pas de rouge”, leeksauce, chive flowers

Roasted Baby Cauliflower, Bay leaf / Buttermilk cream

But, of course, meat would not entirely disappear. Aged for one week, this pigeon from a local farmer was then stuffed with hay for one week to ferment and develop flavor. It was then buried in hay/water for one more week; before being lightly smoked and aged for one final week. The faint smokiness clinged to the game notes, with pronounced iron spilling out in every bite.

Pigeon from “Steenvoorde”, aged four weeks

Housemade Goat Yogurt Mousse, Sorrel, Blueberry

Desserts were largely in the same mold as the mains. The housemade yogurt had a delicious tang, made green by the sorrel, that went really well with the flavorful wild blueberries. Kemmel pear with a single dollop of fresh cheese(cake) was simple but refreshing; a bit more green may have translated better here. And the apple mousse, while tasty, seemed more elaborate than the effortless minimalism of the meal. The sea buckthorn pâtes de fruits had the intensity of ten oranges, if not more – such a wonderful and fitting end – the power of nature!

Pear syrup , pear from Kemmel, fresh cheese(cake)

Apples mousse, crisp, glee, & snow; Spanish Chevril , rosemary

Endings – Sea buckthorn & chocolate

Paris is only three hours away – what better contrast to the City of Light than the rustic farmhouse of In de Wulf. While the three-star temples will always capture the imagination, and hope, breaking away for one day and night to the border is a rewarding move. The food looks more composed than in years past; hopefully this is evidence of Chef Kobe Desramaults maturing and refining. How much more refined can his food get? How much more can be stripped away? Or augmented?³

It is often about alignment – shifting tastes and fashions – what we “like’ is always a moving target. But this is where I’m at right now.⁴ There is a regality to the rustic origins of the food. Its minimalism belies its sophistication and ambition; but its confidence clearly shows. And, in a year of excellent eating, this was one of my favorite meals. Michelin has awarded it one star but it’s clearly two in my book;⁵ two for the nights I should have booked, instead of one.

- chuck

1 – In De Wulf sits atop the site of the horrendous trenches of WW1. Nearby, there is a museum dedicated to the war. On Christmas, German soldiers called a truce and crawled out of their trenches, bringing gifts of sausage and alcohol for their Allied enemies. Unfortunately, that truce did not last long.

2 – Justin, formerly of Ubuntu, did a stage at In De Wulf, chronicled in his great blog, Nomadic Root. Justin has been doing misc dinners in Houston, focusing on by-catch, and will be opening his own restaurant this year – Oxheart in Houston. It could be one of the great openings of the year. And if you want to know why stages stage: Stages & Staging, Refining & Refinement

3 – Who knows but here’s a great video of a special dinner co-hosted with Magnus Nilsson; unfortunately, I was not invited.

4 – Some of us like to talk about Fine Dining Russian Roulette, fashioning ourselves Nick Chevotarevichs as we race across continents, chasing bad experiences with nothing but hope. It’s a proper analogy. Did the chef get too drunk last night? Is the kitchen down a man or two? Did the supplier supply too little too late? Did the neighboring table throw off the kitchen with too many special requests? Is our own table causing a breakdown? The variables are endless and conspiratorial – there are always bullets in the chamber – but it’s also an issue of alignment.

5 – When compared to most US one stars, In De Wulf is in a completely different league. And this one-star rating lends credence to the disconnect between US and European ratings. Its one star ratings also lends credence to a disconnect within European ratings; for In de Wulf is easily on par with many European two-star restaurants. For me, it would make a personal top 10 Europe / North America list.

6 – Some other reviews:
High End Food

Very Good Food

Belly Love

Gastroenophile

Tasting & Living

Gourmet Traveller

Kir Breton

Much has been written about the renaissance in Bay Area dining, a mere two years after David Chang emasculated the city with “figs.” Brilliant in its caricature, the scathing sound-bite nailed the problem with dining in the area. More Italian than French, rustic romanticism over technique, the region never embraced molecular gastronomy¹, with only a few rare flirts (Winterland anyone?)² But technique is sneaking in through the back door.

And that’s what makes Atelier Crenn surprising – it is unabashedly molecular but weaves in a more natural narrative. It is an enchanting vision that feels right at home here, in the new San Francisco.³

Brioche

Dominque Crenn plays chef and artist, not scientist, for her public persona; her menu is not dinner laboratory, fits and starts, it is tasting menu. Experiments are left in the kitchen. Dinner is the successes.⁴ An organic quality resonates with each plate, balancing the technical elements with what some might call a feminine touch. There is coherency throughout, an album instead of a patchwork of singles and filler. It is enjoyable molecular as opposed to the often painful vanity molecular.

Intense, concentrated flavors streak in and out of the menu; textures play with the release of flavor, while never falling into artifice; and temperature contrasts are used very effectively, recalling the days of yesteryear’s Ludo Lefebvre’s Bastide. Liquid nitrogen is a recurring technique but never in an extreme or jarring fashion. One might argue the meats have a same-ness, all sous vide on this visit. Plating is en vogue landscape, sprawling from end to end, claiming air rights too, but it is a useful device for picking through Crenn’s deconstructions. She is not afraid to use many ingredients, but never does it veer toward the showmanship of showcasing 20 ingredients on a plate for the sake of featuring twenty-one.

This was one meal in late November. TomoStyle was in town, and after raving about Crenn’s Test Kitchen dinner in LA, Atelier Crenn seemed like the obvious choice.⁵ The pictures comprise a variety of dishes from the table, including some vegetarian offerings. The waiter convinced me to stick with the normal menu but a vegetable menu is automatic for the next visit.⁶

Pear custard, pumpkin seed & foie gras pearls

Trout skin, caviar

Fried yuba, daikon

From the first bite, Crenn defied expectation by serving liquid nitrogen pearls of spiced pumpkin seed and foie gras. All too often, such pearls would be too abrasive, freezing and icy; but the cool pearls slowly melted in the mouth and blended into the sweeter pear custard, seasoning it and adding lusciousness. The variables here were dialed in and one could appreciate that initial texture contrast, and range as the pearls melted, with the custard. It sounds simple, and even obvious, but it is often a disappointing technique.

A barely warmed oyster, poached in sake and beurre blanc, was served on a bed of tapioca and sake cubes. Here, the shifting texture between oyster flesh and tapioca gave the dish its textural focus. But why gelee the sake in cubes? Cool, they let out a small bright burst with each bite, re-invigorating the flavors with each chew. It was delicious. The attention to detail was most impressive⁷ – proportion, temperature, and sensation were thought through carefully – a repeating theme throughout the meal.

Oyster, sake, tapioca

Jardin

Buckwheat soba gnocci, umeboshi, green onion

With the first warm course, a salty ginger broth and a tart, salty dollop of ume were tempered by light, but comforting, buckwheat soba gnocci. Abrupt at first, the dish provided counterpoint to the creeping sweetness of the previous dishes – a re-set. And, again, it was the details – the charred scallion, adding bitterness to mix of spicy, salty, and sour; the fragrance and tang of the umeboshi pulling the elements together; and fried scallion roots with their complementary soft crunch.

Ocean and Land was perhaps my favorite dish of the night, and it once again showed the technical attention to detail, while still allowing for randomness and variation. The smokiness from the sturgeon pearls lingered as they melted, and built over the duration of the dish. Mustard seeds and fried capers gave the dish crunch. Red onion gelee was sweet with a cool bright touch. Horseradish puree kicked every few bites. Maybe the wagyu was unnecessary since its fat wasn’t warmed, rendered, and tender; but its relatively light flavor allowed the other elements to tug and pull the dish into different exciting directions.

Ocean & land – wagyu beef, smoked sturgeon pearls, red onion gelee

Potato “Mémoire d’enfance”t

Carrot, aloe gel, thyme, mint

The explicit palate cleanser is under-utilized in long tasting menus – jolt the palate, shake it up, and re-focus for the flavors to come. Concentrated in taste (one is reminded of Sean Brock’s Carrot essay on Ideas in Food), the mint burst through the sweetness and intensity of many, many carrots. The soothing coolness of the aloe gel took over the aftertaste. Not a literal pop, but quite a surprise.

Suggestive of edible sculpture, the foie gras log is a visually arresting example of Crenn’s Poetic Culinaria. A cold foie dish rarely disappoints, although some are clearly better than others,⁸ but how often is it best of show? The foie is poached in milk and then flash-frozen, presumably in liquid nitrogen, shaved thinly and it is then allowed to melt again, forming the bark. Each bite is light and airy, more suggestive than substance, but it is (quickly) cumulative, and its heaviness does build by the end. Vanilla dabs perfume the foie, a natural complement to this lighter version, while apple and balsamic add needed acidity. But it was the cocoa nibs that completed the dish – a nice crunchy bitterness and suggestions of a fatty chocolate milk.

Foie gras log, apple, vanilla, cocoa nib, balsamic

Walk in the forest

Here there is a nod to Quique DaCosta’s experiential Living Forest – one of my all-time favorite dishes. Crenn has tapped into DaCosta’s ability to create experience – his forest is not a representation, it arguably is a forest – and Crenn flirts with the concept here too. The trumpet, maitake, and chanterelles were pickled or cooked, so each bite had a different foundational texture, with some bites vinegar charged, and all of their earthiness enhanced by the pumpernickel soil. The meringue was too sweet by itself but its pine flavor further invoked the concept, and blended nicely when mixed. But it was that bitterness of the charred meringue that kept it all together, walking a path through this forest.

Silky trout, sous-vide, showed that Crenn succeeds with more straight-forward, embellishing enough to keep her food interesting. The smoked buckwheat cous cous lent just the right note of texture, pickled red onions foiled the richness of the fish, and the mussel lemon foam brightened with brine and tang. Simple at first glance but no less accomplished than previous dishes.

Trou Normand

Steelhead trout ‘basquaise’, lemon, bottarga

Guinea hen ‘thailandaise’, coconut, cilantro, basil, ginger, chanterelles, bok choy

Goat belly & loin & leg, salsify ‘pasta’, grapefruit, yogurt

Cheese

Allspice infusion

And then there were desserts. Rarely does dessert blend into the meal, continuing themes and styles, often opting to veer directly off to the standard canon of dessert instead. Pastry has resisted the shifting styles of savory. But Juan Contrera’s dessert carried the meal in a seamless fashion with the same proficiency and attention to texture and temperature. He is one to watch.

The pear dessert is a stunning representation of, and transportation to, Fall – a fallen pear on a bed of early snow. It is poetic, beautiful, and harmonious with the larger tasting menu. The snow yogurt, a technique loved by too many chefs without regard for abrasive temperature and texture, melts instantly into just-creamy enough while the pear sorbet, shaped as a pear, provides a nice bright balance of acidity. Sage granita rounds out the background flavors. Alternating cool bites of the pear and snow with sips of the hot allspice infusion created a vitality on the palate. This was one of my favorite desserts of 2011.

Pear, sage, yogurt

Mignardises

Upon receiving the bonsai tree of treats, we asked why this last gesture so often disappoints? Parisian temples will shamelessly haul out conspicuous amounts of chocolates and treats but rarely are they as good as the better chocolatiers in town, sometimes just steps away. And yet here was a large collection where every piece had merit – pate de fruit, caramels, nougats, marshmallows, madeleines, and more. Mentioned before, quite a few times, attention to details, from beginning to the very end.

TomoStyle described this dinner as a “fairytale” – and it indeed had embellishes and touches that do not seem real – there is something special here. The experience has similarities to Quique DaCosta, the last meal that enchanted me. The execution and attention to details were very strong. When reading other reviews, most are gobsmacked by the creativity of the food. But it is inventiveness where Crenn can make the largest strides – to create styling and dishes that are completely of her own vision.

Atelier Crenn is one of the best restaurants in the country, firmly in two Michelin star territory (despite being awarded only one.)

- chuck

1 – Or “modernist cuisine”, which surprisingly has not been trademarked. Quite a few people say “molecular gastronomy” doesn’t mean anything; and yet does it mean less than modernist cuisine? I think molecular gastronomy perfectly conveys the high-point of El Bulli-era cooking – the juxtaposition of two words, and worlds, seemingly at odds – science with the senses, while still firmly placing it in a haute cuisine context, where the methods have now trickled down to casual eateries. It captures the time and it’s an easy short-hand for discussion. Modernist cuisine denotes nothing, and perhaps that’s what its adherents appreciate; it is a rolling wave, encapsulating any group of trends since Escoffier or before, and to the desert chic of the last tribe on a dead planet, a thousand years from now.

2 – Which has always surprised me. Here in the land of tomorrow meets today, the food culture has a particular strong conservative bent. Entire industries are being ripped apart by deflationary economics, technology is unequivocal faith, and, yet, dining is still dominated by a very conservative view on food and restaurants. It’s an interesting schism between work and play.

3 – This is not to suggest Atelier Crenn is the only one; anyone that has eaten at noma, or read the cookbook, knows the cuisine owes as much to the countryside as it does to Ferran Adria.

4 – How many people truly enjoy entire meals at WD-50 or Moto? Both are doing important work but there are just as many misses as hits. Cutting edge work lends itself to this sort result (a meal at El Bulli was not 40 courses of bliss) but, as a paying diner, it’s sometimes nice when the chef edits themselves. Just as there is currently too much emphasis on “in the moment” cooking with naturalism and micro-seasonality, the molecular crowd places too much emphasis on rapid iteration and failing fast, mantras of the technology field, at the customer’s expense.

5 – I was not wild about Crenn’s food at Luce, where she earned one Michelin star. I should have known better than to assume her own food would be the same as that of corporate sponsorship, from a hotel.

6 – I feel obliged to support chefs offering creative vegetable menus but there is something telling that I still find it hard to automatically choose it. The contradictions of the human mind.

7 – Veal Cheeks and Michael Bauer both complained that execution was not as high as it could be. Both reviews are over 6 months old and, based on my two recent meals, Crenn may have really stepped it up. Execution was flawless, as mentioned before. Flavors were pin-point; textures were thought out; and temperature contrasts were often masterful.

8 – Until the other night, The French Laundry’s torchon was my gold standard for its creaminess. But Justin Cogley, at L’Auberge Carmel, served a roulade of foie fras poached in almond milk – and it was creamier and tastier yet – without the supplement!

Every year I publish my “perfect meal” – a list of dishes, in some approximate tasting order, that could sum up one year. It is equal parts best-of and fantasy, bending time and space into this glutton’s culinary dream. Across America,² Germany, Benelux, and France – these are my top dishes from 2011. ³

Tuna Head Cheese – Saison (SF)

Saison, in one year, has quickly vaulted to one of my favorite restaurants anywhere – and it still has room to grow. Josh Skenes’ Brassicas dish won me over – an astonishing medley of leaf and grain textures, roasted ever so slowly over the embers. That fire keeps calling me back.

It should not have surprised me that the dimunitive tuna head cheese, served two weeks ago, was every bit as good, a protein equivalent to that vegetable masterpiece. Wrapped in sea leaf, the variations of texture, fattiness, and taste were teased out with every bite. There were minute temperature changes throughout since the meat and scraps had been roasted slowly over the embers for different intervals. A slight smokiness, salinity from the sea, the crunch of the leaves, this dish capitalized on everything Saison does great. Judging from the scarcity of tuna heads, the kitchen counter has its privileges.

My favorite dish of the year.

Natural or Molecular? Internationally, the pendulum has swiftly swung into the “natural” cycle of this false dichotomy. As muse, it has sent countless chefs scurrying the countrysides for obscure ingredients – the blind surfing a trend, others going positively mad, and a special few trying to re-imagine a cuisine of their land. Vegetation is often the reward and it lends this new cuisine identity across countries and continents. The vegetable is still competing against meat in conceptions of fine dining but more chefs are manipulating the flavors and textures of the product; and truly incorporating vegetables as equals to umami-easy meat.

Brussel sprout leaves, smoked monkfish eggs, mustard – la Grenouillere (Montreuil-Sur-Mer, France)

La Grenouillere served the brussel sprout leaves late in the menu (course six of nine), accented by the smoked roe, and seasoned by the mustard flowers. The roe sat hidden inside the architectural bud leaves. With each crunch, the smokiness of the sticky roe was released and then finished by the spicy mustard. Three simple ingredients, light but with strong flavors, where the minimal protein played a supportive role to the two brassicas. Disheveled and pushing off the rim of the plate, it exemplifies the rebellious streak running through Alexandre Gauthier’s French food.

Just across the border at In de Wulf, Kobe Desramaults’ Plaice fish with leek dish showed how a protein and vegetable could play off of each other on opposite sides of the plate – as equals. The textures of the gelatinous fish and braised leek shared similarities – the fish with its umami-like gelatinous flesh and the leeks with their mussel stock braised fibrous stalks. The leeks brought a sweetness to the gelatinous sensations in the mouth while the intensely acidic herbs pierced through both. Reversing the title would have yielded the same dish. ⁴

Plaice fish w/ roasted bones sauce, Leek – In de Wulf (Drancounter, Belgium)

Dry age roasted carrots – Georges Modern Table 3 (San Diego)

And then there were those carrots. In an audacious move, Trey Foshee served the carrots without the steak as the near-finale for a Table 3 dinner – carrots, breadcrumbs, brown jus, and parsley / meyer lemon yogurt. Tasting of the undeniable minerality of aged steak, the carrots carried the strong flavor for this late position in the menu, but with the relative lightness of a vegetable. But the flavors were still nuanced – the parsley and meyer lemon yogurt accented the dish just enough, in a way that might have been impossible with actual substance of meat. It was a play on essences and expectations – a bold move by a confident chef.

As vegetables gain acceptance, it is surprising that versatile grains and seeds are largely relegated to small puffed textural components of many dishes, or risotto, with and without quotes. It is unexplored territory in modern fine dining – one that is quite baffling.⁵ Dishes that feature grains, such as Dan Hunter’s dish below, are often the clear favorites at most dinners. Mix in the exploration of lost grains, such as the work Sean Brock is doing with the Southern Foodways Alliance, and one has potential to create inventive, unique, and popular dishes.

While the pig ears were my “favorite”, it is the work with grains and forgotten seeds that is most inspiring about Husk, and Sean Brock. There were hints of this during my first meal at McCrady’s, three years ago, and it’s inspiring to see Sean Brock preserving, growing, & championing these ingredients in his cooking.

In Dave’s Clams with samp grits, the corn is cracked by hand, an inefficient process used long ago. But the results – a texture of al dente rice but tasting of corn! In a different dish, benne, a predecessor to modern-say sesame seeds brought over by slaves, provided a slight bitter contrast to sweet meaty soft-shell crab. While others scour forest floors, Sean Brock hits the books, bringing a unique, and historically important, Southern perspective to the loose confederation of naturalist restaurants.

Dave’s Clams – Samp & Sausage – Husk (Charleston)

picture by Ulterior Epicure ⁶

Egg yolk, rye, legumes, yeast – Manresa / Royal Mail dinner (Dan Hunter)

Sharp flavors and crunchy textures were unleashed with each bite of this table’s favorite dish of the night. The egg yolk binded the ingredients together and provided a creamy backdrop for the punctuating rye and earthy raw sprouted legumes. Each chew held a mouthful of surprises – Dan Hunter has created a masterpiece out of a seemingly simple composition.

Missing in the naturalist cuisine, often in the moment, is a a strong tie to signature dishes – a dish that has been refined over many years. The signature is a beacon and guide post, a point of reference for the chef’s entire world view. And yet a fascination with what’s seasonal this hour, and/or what’s trending now, has pushed this device off of menus.

The menu, from reading online reviews, does not seem to change much at Soto. Amidst a series of dishes that sputtered between ok and good, this textural sensations of Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri were obviously developed over many years. Toasted seaweed, raw egg, sticky mucinous raw squid, and creamy uni – a brilliant masterpiece of sensations and textures that unfolded as it coated your mouth. A lone shiso leaf sat inside, a foil for the richness, and a guiding light to the end. Worth the price of admission.

Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri – Soto (New York)

And then there’s meat – an antagonist for this blog, with its homogenous and overbearing character in tasting menus. Too often, a Continental meat dish will appear as the final two courses of a tasting menu – predictable and overbearing with a lack of “chef”-ness. Be it is price, consumer expectation, wine preferences, or “that’s the way it’s always been done”, the final courses are often uninspiring and dull. But something happened this year – more chefs began aging – which, arguably, makes for more interesting meats.

Served raw, aged over six weeks, the cote de beouf served during the Roberta’s tasting menu had minerality and funk – a transformation from typical steak. After several courses of aged birds and meat, this dish still stood out as the most remarkable of four. I got in minor trouble for gnawing at the bone – before asking anyone else.

And then, more locally, Saison began a serious dedication to aging fish, birds, and red meat. Many of the meats were re-inventions of those proteins, some stretched to their limits, and it is hard not to include all on this list. The 50-day aged Paine pigeon left the most impact – it tasted of Epoisses with tremendous umami qualities – so strong that each bite ended with a compulsory need to lick for ten to fifteen seconds later. It also had strong cherry notes with a waxy texture, devoid of most moisture. It was not for everyone but it was unlike anything I have tasted before.

Cote de Beouf, fingerlings, spigarello, sweetbreads – Roberta’s tasting menu (New York)

photo by The Girl Who Ate Everything ⁷

50-day aged Paine pigeon – Saison (San Francisco)

It was not aged but John Shields’ Pastoral was perhaps the most inventive and satisfying composed meat course I have tasted. It was a circle-of-life dish – cow eats hay, cow produces milk, all plated together for one final reunion – a modern interpretation of the what grows together should be eaten together ethos. The hay-smoked milk permeated the beef cheek and its finish lasted long. It is rare to see such a composed meat course, nearly as elusive as the composed cheese course, and this dish capped a remarkable run in a tremendous meal.

Presented with a piece of meat at the end, Thomas Bühner’s Pure Venison looked like that typical protein punch. But, in an unexpected twist, he intensified the iron-y essence of this meat by sous-viding it with its own juices and spices. A simple piece of meat, concentrated in flavor, boldly claimed that, yes, a protein can be exciting at the end of a tasting menu! Many of the dishes at La Vie were quite good and Bühner deserved his third star.⁸

Beef Cheek – Cow’s milk infused with roasted hay & farro… Pastoral – Town House (Virgina)

Photo by Ulterior Epicure

Pure Venison – La Vie (Osnabrück, Germany)

While hard to dislike dessert, it is harder to love it – pastry programs are stuck in a Continental / chocolate cake mode while the savory food pulls away in new directions and re-discovered ingredients. Even when the styles of savory and sweet complement each other, the arbitrary distinction creates a barrier to cohesiveness.

Craig Thornton of Wolvesmouth approached the problem by reversing the order – presenting dessert as the first course. (And it worked!) With references to Ludo’s infamous panna cotta with caviar (featured on 2010′s Perfect Meal post), the pops of smoke and brine, with each creamy bite, invigorated the familiar tastes of cinnamon toast and maple syrup – wow. The roe was so powerful that it nudged the dish closer to savory territory.

Smoked Steelhead Roe – Cinnamon French toast ice cream, green apple, BLiS maple – Wolvesden (LA)

photo by Ulterior Epicure

Pear – Atelier Crenn (San Francisco)

My two Atelier Crenn meals were near perfect, without mis-steps. It could be a case that every dish was so strong that none jump out for inclusion on this list; but a glowing post is next on the schedule. This pear dessert, however, is a stunning representation of, and transportation to, Fall – a fallen pear on a bed of early snow. It is poetic, beautiful, and harmonious with the larger tasting menu. The snow yogurt, a technique loved by too many chefs without regard for abrasive temperature and texture, melts instantly into just-creamy enough while the pear sorbet, shaped as a pear, provides a nice bright balance of acidity. Sage granita rounds out the background flavors. Dominique Crenn, like Quique DaCosta, has a rare ability to abstract dishes further – moving from representation to experience. Pastry chef Juan Contreras is one to watch.

And then there was the dessert of the year, if not my life.

A Curd of Sour Quince Juice & Olive Oil – Black pepper, dill, pine ice cream, toasted meringue – Town House (Virginia)
Photo by Ulterior Epicure

Karen and John Shields, of Townhouse, are married and this probably helps explain why their menu is so cohesive from beginning to end – savory and dessert blend effortlessly into each other. The desserts started rich, following lamb, and progressively got lighter with each course until the meal ended as light as it began. Here, the dill danced in a lithe manner across a sweet and sour palette, punctuated by thrusts of pepper. The textures had tremendous range with each bite – from herb to meringue to curd to ice cream – this dessert was using the full array of tastes and textures available.

What’s next? Molecular unleashed an investigation into form and tradition; and Naturalism has focused those efforts on the land. The pyrotechnics of molecular were traded for the surprise of “can this be real?” History is being mined for lost ideas, techniques, and products. And nature still has much to reveal, especially through the lens of science. What happens when we start analyzing foods and recipes en masse, every book in every language ever published, for flavor compounds and combinations? Across cultures? Across times? Flavor Network and the Principles of Food Pairing opened my eyes to the possibilities of cloud computing muscle when applied to food – start archiving, mapping, and graphing – then find the big data geniuses to tease out new points of view for culinary exploration and artistic expression.

There is a limitless world of infinite possibilities – everyone just has to dream.

- chuck

on Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/chuckeats/dishes-of-the-year-2011/

1 – Town House, McCrady’s, Husk, and Elements immediately come to mind.

2 – New York, Charleston, Chilhowie, Los Angeles, San Diego, Portland, and, of course, the Bay Area.

3 – I’m pickier and dining trends are merging with my sensibilities. Quite a few meals were considered for this “best of” list and many hard choices were made. A few repeats from 2010 are not listed here (Abalone raw milk panna cotta from Manresa, Brassicas from Saison, and Peas, White Chocolate, Macadamia, Chocolate Mint, Pea Broth from Jeremy Fox.) These would be hall of fame dishes. Castagna in Portland, helmed by Matthew Lightner at the time, had such singularity but it was not included here because my notes were lost and the restaurant’s lighting was too challenging for my camera. One or two dishes, including dessert, would have made it onto this list. His new restaurant, Atera in New York, could be the most exciting opening of the year.

4 – An In de Wulf post is mostly written and will be published soon. Every dish was very strong – and the meal, as a whole, was one of the best I can remember. The food has a minimalism that approaches kaiseki – every ingredient has its place – without relying on easy crutches. There were no hits per se, just a very impressive line-up of dishes. Stay at the very reasonably inn above the restaurant and make sure you grab breakfast too!

5 – If you know of examples, please let me know.

6 – All Ulterior Epicure were used with permission. We shared the meals where he is credited with the photo so the dish pictured is the dish across the table that was consumed.

7 – This photo by The Girl Who Ate Everything was used with permission – and we shared this meal.

8 – This meal was paid for by the National German Tourism Board; but it was sensational. A blog post will be written in the new year. A trip to Germany should include this restaurant on its itinerary.

A simple tweet, or was it a taunt, set us down the path – “Aged fish. Concentrated textural magic.“¹ Suddenly, there were memories of Sawada in Tokyo pulling out a deep-red slice of tuna, its intense iron taste, and my first (knowing) experience with (purposely) aged fish – a seemingly Bizarro-world that overturned the notion that the best fish is served “fresh.” It does not have to be. Personal preference in these murky waters will probably vary considerably.

“For me this is about finding the deepest point in a flavor” – Joshua Skenes

Dry-aging product intensifies taste by reducing moisture.² It can also help to tenderize the meat – to a point. After longer periods, the meat tends to get waxier in texture³ as the the tenderizing effects of the enzymes and fungus can not overcome the lack of moisture. Some dry-aging fleshes out the taste, adding complexity, and drawing more flavor from the meat. Different animals require different times – but there are surprisingly few studies on this topic, and most literature is on beef. At what point does the taste shift from terroir to transformative? Is an extended dry-aged (and/or fermented) protein still the protein, metaphysically speaking?⁴ Again, personal preference will vary considerably in these winds.

This was not a normal Saison meal⁵ – the pictures below come from two different meals at the kitchen counter, the latest last Thursday. There were many dishes not pictured over both meals. Similar meals can be arranged at the kitchen counter but they must be scheduled and planned in advance – and they quickly approach French Laundry pricing (but are far more enjoyable, in my opinion.) If it is your first time, and lighting isn’t a concern, ask to sit at the hearth bar – an enchanting look at the deliberate work being done on the hearth – the heart and soul of Saison.

The sensationalism of the aging fish drew me in but it was the subtle Kindai Bluefin that showed the diligence of Saison best. Simple at first sight, various pieces of tuna (very fatty, medium fatty, & loin) are scraped with a scallop shell for the texture, mixed with its roasted sinew from the hearth. It is topped with white soy and roasted (crushed) tuna bones, from the hearth; and a vinaigrette made from said bones, yuzu, seaweeds, and dried bonito. This was special. An accompanying glass held the tuna’s spinal fluid. The gelatinous marrow was clean and mellow – with just a hint of salinity and tuna – a very special treat. (See a picture from the bone here.) The best of Saison’s style is embodied in this dish – one that could be at home in a three-star Tokyo restaurant.

Each of the 7-day aged fish were line-caught from Japan, killed by ike jime, and then dry-aged for seven days. Skenes is serious about his seafood. The texture of each was the obvious give-away – waxy from the moisture loss – followed by a briny burst. Intensity. The three skin chips, each a different fish, punctuated the dish with crispy bites of umami. Were they better aged than fresh? Neither better nor worse – but different – they could be used in a menu to very interesting effect.

80-day smoked tuna belly was a remarkable two bites. The belly had been aged and smoked periodically, to preserve flavor and texture. The cuboids had a pliable give, still sufficiently moist, despite their age (fat!) – look at the bottoms. Smoky fat instantly coated the mouth and a delicious burst of concentrated tuna belly flavor sprang out. This took the lushness of toro and amped it up several notches – although rich, two bites were not enough!

Every menu at Saison features the Brassicas dish – the signature, in my opinion, of the restaurant and a great example of the complexity that can be achieved by vegetable-forward dishes. A full description can be found in the Perfect Meal 2010 post. Hopefully grains are the next vegetable.⁶

Vegetables are respected and given their proper due throughout the meal. Corn pudding, okra, favas, basil-tomato aspic, zucchini is one or two edits away from being something special itself. At first bite, the corn pudding was a touch too sweet. And suddenly, a surprising sweet and sour effect kicked in, changing from one to the other with each bite. A largish piece of avocado seemed misplaced. And then there were the textures – this is why inventive vegetable dishes have so much to offer.

Four Story Hill Farm 120-day beef
Raw or seared, minimalist or composed, it can be so difficult to judge someone’s preferences. The beef was sliced very thin, heated by hearth coals for an instant, and hidden beneath a bitter crisped leaf, herbs, and a vinaigrette made from roasted bones. It was the best ingredient of the first night but the dish was too busy – Skenes agreed, admitting he over-thought it at the last minute.

Fruity, nutty, and complex, brightened by the vinaigrette, its fat carried a nice mouthfeel and remarkable sweetness. It was similar in sweetness to Manglitsa pig⁷, presumably a function of the age. Two bites of magic.

And then were was a parade of pigeons – 21-day, 43-day, 50-day, and 73-day – across both meals. All were Paine Farm, smothered (to keep the blood inside for more taste), and hung with their viscera intact just short of a week. After that, the insides are removed to prevent them from spoiling the bird. At that point, the bird can be dry-aged or its cavity can be salted for a fermentation/curing effect. The results over three birds were dramatically different.

The 21-day Paine pigeon had chocolate undertones throughout, with nice crispy skin from the hearth and some delicious melting fat. There were some small pockets of funk near the edges – traces of what was to come. Still tender and juicy, it should appeal to most fans of pigeon. Its cavity was not salted before aging.

50-day Paine pigeon was the consolation prize after the 43-day did not pass Skenes’s quality control. Tasting of Epoisses, it has a tremendous umami qualities where you just kept licking the inside of your mouth after each bite. There were also some nice cherry fruit notes. Waxy, without much moisture, the texture and tastes will certainly not please everyone. The fat was still sweet but it was teetering. It was a highlight for me, unlike anything I have tasted. The cavity had not been salted; the enzymatic activity responsible for the funkiness.

A few weeks later, The Ulterior Epicure and TomoStyle went to Saison and had an older pigeon – I missed out that week for I knew I would be back shortly. (Hopefully they publish reviews sometime soon!) A 78-day Paine pigeon tasted intensely of pigeon, with much less funk than the 50-day. There was a complexity not found in the 21-day, with plenty of chocolate, some fruit, and minerality; and this might appeal to a larger audience than the 50-day. This bird was fermented (cured) instead of pure dry-age, as its cavity had been salted once the internals were removed.

Closing the first meal, a 68 day Sonoma lamb was overkill at this point in the meal – lamb amplified. After a night of strong meats, the story of this dish might have been the tomatillo. Roasted simply on the hearth, its slight lemony tang provided respite from the intense fat. Every (savory) dish at Saison touches the hearth and, sometimes, the enjoyment of a dish can be stripped down to just one impeccably sourced ingredient.

Nuvola di percora is one of those rare finds on tasting menus – a composed cheese course that not only works, but succeeds with decadent pleasure. Sweet and salty, light brioche and gooey cheese, it is well-balanced, interesting, and very delicious. Preserved lemon too has a mastery of temperature, texture, and flavors – four different levels of sweet and sour bites. It has been served with most of my seven meals and there is no reason to stop – great stuff.

Skenes has a vision – of fire and nature. It flirts and borrows from the Nordic and Flanders with its foraged and primitive elements but he coalesces the food around the hearth and its infinite variation. It does not champion the rustic, or romantic, as much as it does purity and minimalism. For this, it is more Japanese in its outlook and offers something unique.

The big taste of aged meat will be an interesting direction for Skenes’ subtle work. The meats fit into the framework of what he is trying to achieve – nature’s deepest flavors – and it will be interesting to see how they continue to find their way into the menu. Few restaurants Stateside are exploring this territory.⁸ With the fire, letting age act as another element in the cuisine seems like a natural complement to the Saison menu.

The Michelin Man roars into town tomorrow – he should bring two Pilot Michelin Sport PS2′s for Saison. (And, yes, they did.)

- chuck

1 – Funnily enough, I mentioned dry-aged fish in my last review of Saison. Unknown to me, Skenes was already under-way with experiments.

2 – There is a dearth of scientific research with regards to dry-aging different types of meat. This 13-page report is an easy and informative read if you’re interested in the subject: Dry-aging Beef PDF by Beef Research Org

Hunter Angler Gardener Cook has a great blog post on hanging pheasants.

Here’s a great talk by David Chang (of Momofuku) on Food Microbiology, a topic that covers dry-aging. At 21:58, he discusses dry-aging beef and lack of any real information available:

David Chang from Symposium on Vimeo.

3 – Every individual animal is different with seasons and feed almost certainly playing large roles. The diet is probably very important, as some farmers can control the make-up of their animals through daily changes of diet. I have had grass-fed, grain-finished Angus cows from a local butcher where an 8-week aged ribeye had a minerality that was very intense. With the next batch, 10-weeks, the texture of the meat was on its way to resembling a ham, but without the intensity of the 8-week. Variations in initial product quality probably contributed to the vastly different outcomes.

4 – Modern day meat preferences are pretty limited. When someone tastes a heritage breed chicken, a common complaint is that it’s “too strong”; similar to people who try grass-fed beef and complain of its wonderful “gaminess.” So there could be cultural resistance to aged proteins beyond the norm. Antoine Carême advised holding beef joints at room temperature “be taken as far as possible.” Those French called it mortification. Different times, different preferences – I obviously love the exploration into what could be.

And is it really different than the many forms of longer fermentation found in other cultures? There, in many cases, the base product is transformed radically into something pungent and, sometimes, delicious.

5 – A few reviews of more typical meals can be found at:
- A Life Worth Eating
- Endo Edibles
- Shooting the Kitchen
- Kevin Eats

6 – Dan Hunter served a grain-based dish at the (relatively) recent Royal Mail / Manresa dinner – puffed rice, egg, legumes, rye, & yeast. It was the table’s favorite with everyone complimenting “the textures.” If vegetables can now be centerpieces, why can’t grains?

7 – Manglitsa fat will get much sweeter when frozen – has anyone noticed this? Do the ice crystals break the fat molecules and cause more sweetness? Any scientists reading this? I’ve also noticed a similar effect when I freeze a 9-week dry-aged steak – after de-thawing, its fat is much much sweeter. Is it possibly enzymatic despite being frozen?

8 – Outside of Roberta’s in Brooklyn, during the special nightly menu, there are few restaurants tackling this dimension of meat. If you know of other places in the US, please leave a comment, I would be very interested to hear about them.

It was a fitting introduction to an evening where modern and natural themes bounced off each other. Mugaritz³ and Alinea clearly resonate within the walls of this charming restaurant tucked into the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. But is it as an unlikely place as many others have written?⁴ Does its molecular bent and high aspirations render it misplaced? The food, with its careful juxtapositions and suggestive forms, casts a new light on the land – a swath of the Virginia countryside picked, plated, and processed, always with a tweezer’s precision. Vegetables and herbs play large roles throughout and some plates could be mistaken for the landscape itself. The compositions might look challenging at first but it was effortless eating – the technique buried into the flavor.

The Shieldses turned down the financial returns of Vegas for personal rewards – an opportunity to cultivate a style of their own. Scrolling through the earliest pages of the Town House blog⁵, one finds a more-is-more approach – possibly the n+1 world of Achatz’s Alinea.⁶ The dishes appear to be busier and less focused, the burgeoning of their Virginia cuisine. In the meal below, the environment appears to creep in more carefully, minimalism has value, and nature’s wild flavors are as often responsible for the “oh wow” moments. It is exciting to consider the progress over the past three years and what the future holds – a case for the artist in isolation.⁷ Relentlessly refined, appropriately remote, the restaurant belongs in Chilhowie, Virginia.

“I know exactly where you are: You’re in the middle of nowhere, and that’s what we’re looking for.” – John Shields

This meal took place last Spring, the second stage of an impressive three part journey that also included Sean Brock’s Husk and McCrady’s. John Shields knew this wild bunch was on its way – Miss OMG, TomoStyle and The Ulterior Epicure (you can read his review here), with whom the Shieldses shared a meal with at El Bulli in January. We were offered a 20-course menu, on a quiet night, instead of the normal 10; and we paid in full. All of the photos below were taken by The Ulterior Epicure – would you bother taking your own?

Sorrel Leaves & Finger Lime

Malted Bread – Foie gras, anise, fennel

To settle into the meal, Shields served the field that never was in two quick bites. Sorrel leaves, with whimsical dew droplets, had an expected acidic zing but were touched with a faint sweetness. Biting down, the finger lime pulp, citrus caviar, burst with stabs of acid. But was that real dirt? For a table of experienced eaters, there was an unusual degree of trepidation – it really looks like dirt. There were bitter dark chocolate notes but the line was blurry and no was one certain what it was.

Peas, Bechamel of Rancid ham

Chilled Vegetable “Minestrone”

Colorful and diminutive, with a landscape all its own, the fourth course was a homage to the Michel Bras classic – the vegetable salad. It has become the culinary equivalent of the Aristocrats joke⁸, a riff on well-known parameters, but with an endless range of interpretations – an inside joke for chefs and diners alike. Shields’ version consisted of vegetable curls, each stacked vertically in a pickled broth, and playfully called “Minestrone”. Others have commented that each vegetable is cooked in its own liquid to preserve the crispness of flavor, inline with the Bras technique.

Somehow, it did not wow me. It was an enjoyable dish but, given my current sensibilities, I thought it would do more. There was a distance between vegetable and broth, a distinction that I could not reconcile. In a similar dish at the original Geranium (Denmark), The King’s Herbgarden, there was more soup for more equal ratios. That dish also had more variety; perhaps this minestrone was more nuanced and I was not prepared. It is a dish I would like to repeat, for it is universally praised on every other review.

Oyster… Natural

Preserved Cucumber – Rose, spring onion, clove, oyster

Warm Soup of Oysters – Grapefruit, mussel bouillon, radish, buttermilk, fish roe butter

There is no ocean nearby but Shields is very capable with seafood, successfully extracting intense briny essences. The first of an oyster triptych, “Oyster… Natural”, simply and refreshingly linked the oyster to the plant of its namesake. “Warm Soup of Oysters” was powerful but rounded with dimension, presumably the grapefruit and buttermilk adding subtle touches of sweet and sour. Each course amped up the flavor and richness, culminating in a refined lobster preparation – lobster coral cream, lobster meat, and lobster aspic consomme. It was bold but blissful, a slow tempo dish – a consensual pause in the menu where the bites are savored longer. Each layer was successively more clean, and while they mixed in the mouth, they still maintained some independence. The aspic hit first with its lobster essence and the cream would coat the mouth as you chewed on the sweet tender lobster. French in its luxuriousness but excessively modern in its clean approach.

Maine Lobster – Cream of the shells & consomme

Soft Shell Crab – Onions, seaweed, sunchoke, stewed rhubarb

Heirloom Potato & Turbot – Enriched with egg, shad roe, lovage, broken mayonnaise

Skin from the Turbot & Bonito Vinegar

Like many modern meals, the menu plays on expectation. Our first encounter was obviously the dirt but surprise was used to extraordinary effect with a duo of cephalopod dishes. A “Squid Risotto” was creamy and toothsome, and without rice or dairy. Each grain was diced squid that very effectively approximated the texture of al dente rice. The rice to liquid ratio approached that of a just-soupy made-to-order risotto. For me, it had that bliss of a near-perfect risotto, one where each grain is savored. From toothsome to silky, the cuttlefish in “Sheets of Cuttlefish & Pork Fat” was indistinguishable, both visually and texturally, from lardo. It was impossible to distinguish what was on the fork, or in the mouth, until biting and tasting the different sweetness, and savoriness, from each. Who knew the similarities that could be derived from each of these ingredients? This is not craft – it is art.

Squid Risotto

Sheets of Cuttlefish & Pork Fat

Where many throw in the giant proteins at the end, often contrary to the balance and precision of earlier courses, Shields continued in his style, light and refined. He brought an element of excitement and ingenuity to the meat – clearly re-thinking alternatives to the usual ‘just serve them top grades’ approach.

In a reversal from my last post, where I lauded the virtues of umami carrots, Pastoral was a stunning near-end to the savory dishes. A circle-of-life dish – cow eats hay, cow produces milk, all plated together for one final reunion – a modern interpretation of the what grows together should be eaten together ethos. The hay-smoked milk permeated the beef cheek and its finish lasted long – this was one of my favorite meat dishes of recent memory.

Pork Tail & Dried Shellfish

Beef Cheek – Cow’s milk infused with roasted hay & farro… Pastoral

Border Spings Lamb Belly Glazed in mushroom stock – juices from apple, sassafras, malted yogurt, pine shoots

And, then, day becomes night.

In a typical tasting menu, the momentum of flavors and textures, the story, abruptly shifts from savory to sweet, tradition far more important than the tale at hand. It is often the third change-up in less than five courses – from composed dishes to giant protein to sticky sweet, sometimes with the benefit of an intermezzo type course. Town House eschewed these unwritten rules, taking arc, style, and flavor into consideration, following through on the savory menu instead of tacking sweets on. Savory exists in Karen Shields’ desserts – to amazing effect.

Continuing, not beginning, with a dark and rich Liquid Chocolate Bar, in sequence after the lamb, she immediately switched the progression to something more sensible. Dark to light – Why not serve the richest dessert after the heaviest course? And then work toward a soft landing, or denouement.⁹ The dessert itself was beautiful, suggesting charred land, sweet but playing off the bitterness of the (awesome) ice cream of burnt embers and dark chocolate.

Earlier, the Ulterior Epicure had declared dill his favorite herb of all – and that was met with some quizzical looks – “dill?” After Curd of Sour Quince & Olive Oil, where dill prominently featured, it was unclear if his smile was happiness, or vindication. This was possibly my favorite dessert – ever. The dill danced in a lithe manner across a sweet and sour palette, punctuated by thrusts of pepper. Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm…

Liquid Chocolate Bar – an ice cream of burnt embers, sour yogurt, milk & sugar

A Curd of Sour Quince Juice & Olive Oil – Black pepper, dill, pine ice cream, toasted meringue

Broken Vanilla Marshmallow – Lemon & cucumber, sorrel, softly whipped cream, green strawberry

Rocks

A culinary tour of the South is as seductive an adventure as one could embark on in the United States,¹⁰ with Town House, Husk, and McCrady’s one possible itinerary. The Shieldses are artists who are re-defining a cuisine of their region. While nothing screams “Southern”, like Husk, the food is very much of the land. Ambitious and creative, it is firmly two-star territory, often shooting into three, with desserts so remarkable they would be worthy of the Michelin Man’s last meal.

Or, as the Ulterior Epicure said in his review, you can’t get there quickly enough.

- chuck

1 – There is an inn – Riverstead – a sister property to the restaurant that sits on a farm. I think we all thought this also served as the restaurant. Caviar and Codfish did not take pictures of their Town House meal but they beautifully photographed their room at the inn.

2 – My foot is just as heavy and I should have been the one pulling into the restaurant. However, Sean Brock, divining the full force of Pappy Van Winkle, condemned the Ulterior Epicure to a full weekend of driving – see Brocked.

3 – Cited by Shields as his favorite meal ever, on his honeymoon to boot! (He could’ve said ChuckEats for #5 but you can’t win them all!)

4 – It’s an interesting questions with many layers to it – economic, social, class, tradition – one that I won’t touch on here. Why shouldn’t it be here? Why is it surprising when a high-end restaurants opens up in the American countryside? And, a follow-up question might be: Why aren’t there more in a culture of the car? Could a Faviken Magasinet exist in America?

5 – Town House Grill bleeped on my radar when they, like Elements before them, began linking to my blog. Their blog had interesting looking food but why was there a “Grill” in their name? It has taken me three years to make it out there – don’t repeat my mistakes.

6 – This is not a value judgement – John Shields worked there before and I quite enjoyed my Alinea meal. However, most Alinea dishes do not appear complete unless one more ingredient is added to the mix. Saveur had a great slideshow of Alinea dish sketches – good stuff.

7 – On my cross-country drive a few years ago, Louisa Chu recommended a place in Colorado called Keyah Grande – “go”, she said. It was five hours from anything. The official web site had burgers and steaks, with some game meats if i recall. But the restaurant was run by a husband / wife team – who also had a little ol’ blog called Ideas in Food. Both meals there were fantastic. And now Alex and Aki get the credit they deserve, thanks to years of innovative work and a recently published excellent book.

8 – I’m not sure who originally came up with this analogy but I think it’s appropriate and apt. If it was you, please let me know so I can give proper credit. Who is the Bob Sagat of Gargouillo?

9 – Aaron London, the current chef at Ubuntu, for which I sadly have no review of yet, uses this approach to ease into the dessert courses. I did share this meal with Doc Sconz last November.

10 – The reviews for Husk and McCrady’s will come one day! Other stops on the adventure could include Scott’s BBQ (who, with Sean Brock, won Best of Show at this weekend’s Meatopia in Brooklyn) an hour outside of Charleston; Bacchanalia in Atlanta; a drive on the infamous Tail of the Dragon, which leads right into Blackberry Farm in Tennessee; or you could approach it from the Washington DC vector.

Some other reviews of Town House:
- The FoodandBeerMonger

- Fat Food Taxi

- Veal Cheeks

- Doc Sconz

- New Mountain Cookery

All photos taken by The Ulterior Epicure & used with permission.

Table Three was born out of my last meal at Georges California Modern – where I asked Chef Trey Foshee to “go for it” – and it is now the menu’s official name.¹

Playing with form and expectation, Foshee successfully captured and plated a sense of time and place for Southern California during that initial meal. Ceviche was re-interpreted; fennel, a nuisance for every yard in the area, was nearing its season close; and lobster and squid made rare appearances, as their season was cut short by weather and prohibitive international demand. The food was exact and nuanced; it should not have come as a surprise to learn, later, that Christopher Kostow, from the then-recently anointed three Michelin star Meadowood, had cooked under Trey a few years earlier. And it was that promise, coupled with spring and summer’s bounty from the infamous Chino Farms, that left me wanting to return.

Previous posts have discussed vegetables and lighter menus but there is a subtext waiting for more exploration – the stand-alone vegetable dish in a tasting menu. How many chefs, in a non-vegetarian Western menu, will throw in pure vegetable dishes after the midway point? ² Even with a heightened focus on vegetables by chefs and the media, where it is hard to escape the surface story, it is rare to get a pause from the proteins as the flavors get heavier and heavier, following a pre-determined arc, or march, to a chocolate dessert. Despite the range of flavors and textures found in plants, and a renewed emphasis on challenging form and expectations, the vegetable dish is rarely seen later in most menus. Sometimes a mushroom dish might take the honors late with its earthy richness. It is an unspoken universal law etched into the DNA of too many tasting menus. So what happens when a meal veers off the expected course and showcases a carrot near the end?

If one accepts the tasting menu as a narrative – a story of the season and place, a conversation between a chef and history, or the culinary expression of some twisted sense of reality (art is not confined to the rational!) – whatever the tale may be – the language and palette available for expression, arguably, has not been fully explored. Instead of supporting roles or props for protein, a vegetable’s (and fruit’s) range – root, seed, stalk, leaf, flower, and more – can be utilized more throughout a menu. And then there is foraged versus farmed – the flavor concentration of the former posing new opportunities and challenges. And, finally, there is an historical element to explore – such as Sean Brock at McCrady’s and Husk in Charleston – where he uses lost seeds and techniques (samp grits? benne?) to add entirely new dimensions to this menus. And what of grains? We’re still in the infancy of exploring a full seed to stalk cuisine in fine dining ³ and, for now, it appears that many of America’s best chefs are fascinated by the possibilities. ⁴

Deep into this meal, a simple plate of four or five carrots were presented, sandwiched between brown butter seabass and spring lamb dishes. Toasted breadcrumbs lie sprinkled on the plate and a brown jus was drizzled across the carrots and a few herbs. With each bite, the carrots delivered a strong minerality, the undeniable essence of steak, a strong flavor to stand up to the brown butter before and the lamb next, but with the relative lightness of a roasted carrot. Flavors were still nuanced, the parsley and a meyer lemon yogurt accenting and highlighting the dish just enough, in a way that might have been impossible with actual meat. The carrots had been roasted with a dry-aged steak, some other diner probably the recipient, but I was the lucky one.

It should have been protein, a satisfying meat sustenance that one could sink their teeth into, a steak that could help justify the expense of the menu. ⁵ Instead, in its place, a few diminutive carrots served with the by-product of a more expensive ingredient. However trivial it might sound, even after many of the strong dishes featured below, these carrots were a bold statement, completely in-tune with my personal culinary sensibilities. It was brilliant. ⁶

The setting was early May. I forgot my camera but George’s photographer was present, in the kitchen, taking photos. All of the photos below were taken by Joel from Ten Eleven Interactive, mostly presented in order. The full menu is pictured below. This was the second of my three meals, the most recent just two weeks ago with Ulterior Epicure, who will likely pen the next Table Three review, unless someone reading this beats him to it. I was obviously known to the house but this meal was paid in full – by me.

Crisp flavors and crunchy textures give the palate an immediate workout – cauliflower, fava beans, radishes, romanesco, carrots, and more – resting on house-made ricotta. The seaweed toast carried into the next dish – a raw oyster – while giving the crudites a fuller flavor. Smoked yogurt, long in the finish, tempered the expected pop of the briny oyster and a tart apple granita. But it was the small piece of watercress sitting atop, an afterthought in most places, that gave the dish structure and backbone, a spicy cohesion that tied all of the flavors together. It is a perfect example of the refinement on display, where a dish hangs in the balance by one leaf.

After a particularly rich uni broth, served over crudo, Burnt Strawberry – arugula, almonds, pickled green strawberries – refreshed and zapped the palate back. A dueling bitterness between charred red strawberry and a pickled green strawberry fought back and forth, against a backdrop of the fruit’s sweetness and the arugula’s spiciness. This dish was challenging, particularly its bitterness, but it was balanced and thoughtful with its yin & yang.

Local snapper was the opening salvo in the last meal, remarkable for its freshness and purity of taste. It is not often that such a clean tasting fish is served on American shores. It was later followed by an equally remarkable swordfish, easily the best I had tasted, served in a dried squid broth that defined umami. Clearly Chef Foshee made a point of not only showcasing the tremendous bounty from the surrounding waters, but of respecting their intrinsic quality and qualities.

The deconstructed Campechana of raw spot prawn, snapper, octopus, scallop, abalone, and uni would have been impressive enough served as crudo seen below. Each was cut thin, emphasizing taste; like the spot prawn being sliced very thin to highlight its sweetness instead of its raw texture. Without broth, it would be difficult to call it campechana. A cool, rich, and briny uni broth was poured table-side over the seafood, with the excess left on the table, where gluttony (it’s uni broth – keep pouring!) threatened to disturb the delicate balance of sweet and briny.

Where there are heavy proteins in the savory courses, there is heavier chocolate at the end of many tasting menus, a big overbearing wallop for those that are still conscious. It is unusual to find desserts that not only complement the main courses but continue the trajectory of the meal, repeating or re-discovering themes featured earlier. Albert Adrià, brother to the more famous Ferran, has influenced a generation of pastry chefs to go beyond the continental classics, to explore the territory between savory and sweet, and to question the forms that dessert often takes. The Table Three desserts do not occupy the more radical side of these ideas, but they have been in-tune with the meals, as opposed to the more traditional notions of distinct dessert.

Incorporating an Asian tendency for fruit, and mindful of the courses before them, the Table Three desserts are satisfying endings. Red wine compressed strawberries, from Chino Farms of course, were intensely fragrant and powerful, enhanced further by pepper ice cream. Jabs of lemon balm cooled the strong flavors. The wine, strawberry, cheese, and pepper combination is nothing ground-breaking, it’s basically Italian, but the flavors and textures were very targeted and exact. They show off the bounty of the land – finishing the story of the savories.

Vegetables and seafood feature prominently throughout, the quality of the raw product always emphasized and respected. Textures are deliberate and thought out, sometimes across courses. Greens are used judiciously to accent, flavor, and tease out structure. Umami is used effortlessly to wonderful effect. The tyranny of the protein ⁷ is not entirely absent but vegetables are used to much more dramatic effect than most menus. Mexican nods are present, Chinese inflections exist, and a Japanese undercurrent runs throughout; not unlike the melting pot of San Diego. Go now.

- chuck

1 – Table Three must be requested several weeks in advance on a weekday. It is limited to a limited number of people per night. You must book directly with Kristine Fogarty, Director of Special Events on the main phone number for the restaurant. The name Table Three is a homage to the table where the concept was first served, sitting against the window, looking out into the ocean.

2 – By no means an exhaustive sample but I went back a few years and I didn’t find much. Manresa, Coi, noma, (the original) Geranium, and a recent “Smith” dinner by Jeremy Fox were the only examples from my personal meals. Coi was the most daring – in one meal, never reviewed, Daniel Patterson eschewed red meat entirely and simply served a farm egg as the final course – it was a “wow” moment. (Unfortunately, my subsequent meals there have all featured the big protein bang at the end.)

3 – Jeremy Fox first coined this term when he cooked at Ubuntu.

4 – Where are the grains? With the emphasis on vegetables, grains would seem like a natural extension, ripe for exploration. Aside from limited supporting roles, texture for a crudo or a bed for a hunk of meat, grains have a small presence in fine dining. Saison’s Brassicas is the only (American) dish I can think of that has taken a grain to three-star levels.

5 – For all of the pyrotechnics and influence of molecular gastronomy, and on challenging forms, proteins reign supreme after the midway point of tasting menus. Obviously one can not overlook the commercial realities of running a restaurant. Diners have been conditioned to expect meat as a symbol of value and satiation, if nothing else. Value for most is still tied to luxury ingredients; value, to me, is thoughtful food that provokes, no matter the ingredient type.

6 – I am not suggesting this meal was unique with its dedication to the vegetable; in fact, the motivating thought was probably more “this is San Diego right now” than “these are vegetables.” L’Arpege has been doing this forever, brilliantly with the exception of (my experience of) oft-overcooked proteins at the end; Michel Bras when you order correctly, noma, Manresa, Ubuntu, etc. What was unique, from my experience, was the effortless transition from protein to vegetable, deftly flipping back and forth, maintaining an arc, and satisyfing sustenance – Geranium was the last restaurant that seemed to pay no attention to a distinction.

7 – I might have to trademark this term

All photos were taken in the kitchen by Joel from Ten Eleven Interactive

Obsessed with the nature of flavor, a series of dialectics run through each meal, exploring assumptions and traditions of the modern tasting menu. At first glance, the food exhibits the tweezer-precision that some might dismiss as precious or pretentious. The intensity of foraged ingredients (versus farmed) allows Skenes to compare and contrast within a dish with, sometimes, just a palette of flowers and leaves. Vegetables and proteins are slowly, very slowly, cooked in an outdoor hearth (ask to sit at the bar) in a constant drive to coerce maximum flavor – raw vs cooked – and the infinite range in-between. And then there are the roles of meat vs vegetable, where the sequence and arc of Continental menus are questioned, if not challenged. Vegetables are featured prominently throughout, in starring roles, even late in the menu. Can an eight course menu end on a light chicken dish? Does it need to end with meat, or protein, at all?²

The cooking and plating is exact and accomplished but Saison’s character resonates from the hearth – methodical and patient. Over smoldering embers, a cook unflappably works with a pile of brassicas leaves, moving them in and out of the perimeter of the heat, coaxing the right flavor and texture, over a half hour period. Roots are buried in the embers, skin crackling, until the interiors are intensely flavored with their own juices. It is the ultimate cuisine of the carrot, where humble weeds are not just featured, but revered, and transformed into a signature dish, worthy of three Michelin stars. “For me this is about finding the deepest point in a flavor,” Skenes says. “You see it in foraging, you see it in spit roasting … Fire and foraging: the purest forms of flavour.”

Over the course of four meals and one year, Saison has grown from a Michelin one-star restaurant that lacked a strong identity (aside from its cult status as an ambitious pop-up) to a clear, and deserved, two-star vision. The ingredients and cooking were always strong but the initial ideas meandered and missed a cohesive force. The introduction of the hearth focused the food – gave it a conceptual backbone from which to explore – and help distinguish the cooking with, ironically, a very primitive technique. ³ Winning the Food & Wine Best New Chef 2011 is a great case of the magazines getting it right. The pictures below are from two meals, the dish names mine, when remembered. There were more dishes than pictured. With Quince, Saison is my favorite place to eat in San Francisco.

Skenes has always had a reputation for great composed seafood dishes, even during his beginning days at Chez TJ in Mountain View. Restraint first, the differing cuts of sashimi relied as much on bitter greens and flowers as it did on cures and drops of acid for flavor. Bright, but not demanding, the tomato and chrysanthemum consomme perked the mucinous raw prawn body and tail; while providing a foil for the fried head. The awareness of textures, from paper thin to gelatinous to crisp, is a constant under-current in most dishes.

In my Perfect Meal 2010 post, the brassicas was one of the strongest entries. Remixed slightly here, there is not much more to add: The brassicas (below) are cooked in the open hearth, slowly & separately, constantly shifted around to get a variety of textures, and curl, across the leaf. A warm boullion of bonito broth is enhanced by the ever-so-sweet toasted grains, adding to the depth of the broth. The dish is as simple as simple can be, on the surface, but its complexity lie in the varying textures and the interplay between leaf char and broth – bitter, toasty, creamy (quail egg), umami, and sweet. It is a masterpiece – one of my favorite vegetable dishes anywhere.⁴

Environment is also a theme at Saison, not of the noma “time and place” narrative, but of exploring ingredients that may, or should, go together. The Monterey abalone (above), charred on the hearth, was served with the sea lettuce it grew alongside. The broth was a briny and slightly herbaceous, made from the lettuce. The innocuous crisped sea lettuce leaf, perched against the meat, brought the dish together and framed it in the context of the meal. Its slight bitterness and vegetal essence, attuned by the flame, stood up to the meatiness of the abalone. It also referenced the earlier brassicas dish, a nod from meat to vegetable.

The most beautiful plate one night (below) was a wild duck, twice-cooked foie gras, cured cherry blossoms, and cherry gelee. It sat atop cherry wood, itself heated shortly to release its fragrance. And it was a stellar dish. Perfumed throughout, the cherry foiled the duck’s aged gaminess – bolstered by its crackling skin and oozing fat. Each bite released a decided floral note that permeated but never cloyed.

Skenes also has an interest in the arts of aging meat, including those served at the restaurant. He served a pigeon, a smothered Four Story Hill bird, but admitted it was not aged as long as he would prefer. Smothering keeps the blood inside the bird, adding to its richness as it ages. Dark, rich with iron and chocolate-like undertones, it was very good, better than most, but failed to reach the (impossible?) highs of Carlo Mirarchi’s Roberta’s – it lacked the full funk. Outside of Roberta’s, and a few choice dishes in various meals, dry-aging as an art seems to be largely unexplored in American fine-dining restaurants. Yes, many restaurants serve it, but few have tried to understand and exploit it. Squab, duck, beef, game, and even fish⁵ – there are many opportunities. And to think Carlo Mircachi and Joshua Skenes hit it off at the Food & Wine party – the prospects of cross-pollination.

Saison is a restaurant whose big idea is the small details, where execution and ingredient quality is first-rate. Its focus on hearth cooking, in a fine dining context, give it an identity, and opportunity, all its own. Imagine the possibilities, if Skenes continues down this path, when he pushes against the boundaries, like Victor Arguinzoniz with his grills, and begins fashioning his own cooking instruments. That is a tale unwritten, as of yet, but one worth dreaming about.

- chuck

1 – Termed, as far as I know, by Mr Veal Cheeks on his very well-written blog.

2 – Skenes and I share similar opinions on the unnecessary protein-heavy final courses of most tasting menus. My second meal finished with a beautiful small portion of heritage chicken. When will tasting menus be freed of their determinate paths? John Shields of Town House did not ditch the proteins but he crafted an alternate narrative – my review will come soon. Craig of Wolvesmouth and I discussed this – you should see a fun blog post soon.

3 – It might be easy to dismiss Saison as yet another Scandanavian clone, with its emphasis on the foraged and primitive, but a more apt analogy might be Etxebarri in Spain – the magical grilling man. A simple technique, on the surface, taken to an art. It may be too early to call Joshua Skenes the Victor Arguinzoniz of San Francisco but it won’t be unreasonable if the food continues on its current trajectory.

4 – A three-star dish that rivals Kinch’s Into the Vegetable Garden and Jeremy Fox’s Peas/White Chocolate/Macadamia – truly inspired territory. Thank you Michel Bras for your never-ending influence.

5 – You never saw my Sawada pictures from Tokyo? It was a Sunday afternoon, Tsukiji was closed, and Sawada-san pulled out a piece of aged tuna from his locker. Its taste was more irony than regular tuna, analogous to the difference between 28-day and 60-day beef. Aging tuna is also discussed in this Gastroville post – an amazing piece of writing.

Manresa, and Kinch, play central shadow characters in the grand food narratives of today’s media. Kinch was one of the first fine dining chefs to eschew luxury ingredients for a cuisine of the vegetable, partnering with Love Apple Farm for the restaurant’s exclusive bio-dynamic garden. He has talked of “time and place” in many interviews, and what that means for a Northern Californian restaurant, long before the current Noma rage of wild and foraged. He has trained with some of the world’s greatest chefs in Kyoto, Japan ¹ – the next frontier in international dining. In each story, he could be a feature, but seemingly prefers to let his tasting menus tell his narrative; below, a tale of the early spring garden.

This was a birthday meal in late March – obviously I am known – the full menu is listed at the end. ²

Garden beignets, vinegar powder

Butter

With restaurants taking great strides to produce everything in-house, wise or not, butter, and bread, all too often remains an elusive frontier. Despite obstacles like terroir, seasonality, and state laws on raw and unpasteurized milk; too many butters simply underwhelm. Well-cultured butters are my preference – and this butter is the truth – especially when it has been sitting out for thirty to forty-five minutes, literally melting in your mouth. Only Bordier tempts me more.

Raw milk panna cotta with abalone

A dish that arguably shows Kinch taking the ideas of Japanse cooking and tailoring them to his cuisine. From my Perfect Meal 2010 post: Seductive and profound – my dish of the year – transmutation, alchemy, magic. The abalone, with all is meatiness, was tempered by the cool raw milk pudding, presumably milked from the same cow as the extraordinary best-in-the-country butter. The slight salinity of the dish, possibly from the abalone, possibly sea water mixed into the panna cotta, held it all together while faintly referencing salted butter. There were also inflections of sweetness and tanginess. Fifteen minutes of bliss.

Kinch’s food has taken more and more direction from Japan and this dish felt like a statement – his interpretation of Japanese cuisine with his own brand of clarity. Wild rice vinaigrette and chrysanthemum jelly immediately focused the dish – its nutty acid cutting, without the heft one expected from the wild rice taste. It was an unexpected bite that carried into the textures of the dish’s base – a perfect bed of al dente sushi rice, each kernel seperate & distinct. The chicken jelly rounded the flavors, a slight umami, while the vinaigrette continued to form the backbone until completion. The vote has already been cast – this is the dish of the year.

Spot prawns and its head juices, bitter herbs

The Manresa Monterey Bay spot prawn, in all its guises, is always a special part of the meal. Beautifully, but simply, dressed with bitter herbs, this was a new incarnation for me. The Zen simplicity of Kinch’s cuisine is on full display – a prawn, warmed around its edges, viscid in the middle, peppered with herbs – and it makes for revelations. How is this not art? The bitter herbs, mere Noma-derivation in less-skilled hands, perked each bite – darted around the gelatinous prawn – adding counterpoint, vibrancy, and even structure. It is entirely representative of Kinch’s ideals.

Until now, different courses flirted with the ingredients of the season, one or two featured, repeated once or twice, adding mystery and suspense to the flow of the menu. But Into the Vegetable Garden is a point of pause in a Manresa meal – a centerpiece – much of the garden’s bounty, 20+ ingredients, picked that day, presented in various forms, cuts, textures, & techniques. It is allegory for the garden, a key to the now.

Abalone and seaweed persillade, buckwheat

Steelhead trout, sweet onion and marrow broth with chervil

Roast porcini, smoked lentil with wild onion

Suckling kid goat, curds and whey

Cake-, custard-, and chocolate-based desserts don’t fit into the arc of the Manresa tasting menu. The meal has progressed to this point pivoting around a micro-season – how could dessert not continue that trajectory? Outside of fruit, how does one incorporate garden elements into the context of “dessert”, while still referencing its sweetness?

Tart, tangy, crisp, soothing and cool, with trace bitter hints, this first dessert course walked a fine line between the familiar and the unexpected, deftly balancing the individual components. This was very accomplished and I find myself drawn increasingly to desserts of this style – light and refreshing.

Egg; Vanilla mascarpone with almond milk ice

Exotic citrus with honey and spice, herbs

Hazelnut, coffee and brown butter mille feuille

As mentioned earlier, this was one of many many meals at Manresa – and it was possibly my best. Admittedly, I have a tendency to say that every year but there is no question Kinch gets better and better. In his best dishes, he is practicing alchemy – transmuting his garden into profound expressions on food. It takes a tasting menu to tell the entire story, to see the shifting compositions and ingredients, to experience the food at its most potent. With each picture and memory, it calls me back.

- chuck

1 – Culiminating in a Japense seminar and a meal that will become mythological over the years.

2 – The full menu:
Petit fours “red pepper-black olive”
Chicken chiccharones, buttermilk
Garden beignets, vinegar powder
Spiced sunflower and broccoli royale
Raw milk panna cotta with abalone
Shellfish with wild rice, a chrysanthemum and chicken jelly
Spot prawns and its head juices, bitter herbs
Asparagus and amberjack, caviar and egg yolk vinaigrette
Crispy mussels and creamed salsify, cucumber with dill
Into the vegetable garden…
Abalone and seaweed persillade, buckwheat
Steelhead trout, sweet onion and marrow broth with chervil
Roast porcini, smoked lentil with wild onion
Suckling kid goat, curds and whey
Aloe vera gelee with celery and apple, yogurt sorbet
Egg; Vanilla mascarpone with almond milk ice
Exotic citrus with honey and spice, herbs
Hazelnut, coffee and brown butter mille feuille
Petit fours “strawberry-chocolate”

photo by Roboppy of The Girl Who Ate Everything

“The neighborhood [Bushwick] was lawless… We were launching giant fireworks out of my window literally for hours, and the cops never came” – Chris Parachini, founding partner and original spark behind Roberta’s.

As one turns the corner, looking at the restaurant, it is immediately clear that Roberta’s embraces a frontier mentality – its surrounding area qualifying as margins – a (permanent) temporary autonomous zone. An old garage, with a cinder block facade, houses everything in an ad-hoc aesthetic – make-do-with-what’s-available additions, like a garden out back that rests on shipping containers. It is function over form, organic and adapting to its needs, a statement of the DIY ideals ingrained into the restaurant.²

Roberta’s is known as a “pizza joint“, one that has been fortunate enough to ride a few simultaneous narrative waves – food media fascinations with both Brooklyn DIY culture and urban sustainability – a bit of the right place at the right time luck. The pizzas, made in an imported oven from Italy, are a high-quality Neapolitan pie. Opting for toppings (not my thing) might lead one into various meats & veggies – hints of the “other” Roberta’s. For there is a second kitchen serving smaller plates and pastas – Italian on the surface but with enough international influence to call it “American.” It is manned by Carlo Mirarchi, a self-taught chef and partner, with price points that thrust Roberta’s into a third narrative darling of post-recession America – the “democratization of good food.”

Together, a meal constructed out of a few beginning dishes and pizzas would be more exciting than most of what Manhattan has to offer. Carlo’s cooking has an exacting balance in each dish and near-perfect technical execution – in a restaurant known for its pizza.

And then there’s the meat – those glorious proteins.

Regular readers here have probably noticed my preference for less red meat in fine dining. Conventions of ingredients, forms, and flavor combinations have been challenged around the world; but most (Western) fine dining meals end with a hunk of protein, or two, as the final course(s). It is a tradition that neither chef, nor eater, seems to have much interest in over-turning.³ So how might a chef make red meat more interesting?

You control the rot, metaphorically speaking, and that is how Carlo elevates the same protein to new heights. Pizzas, subtle dishes perfectly executed, and aggressive aging of red meats – how could it all add up?

This was an early January meal, shortly after the great blizzard. It was arranged, in advance, as a tasting menu, but most of the non-meat items were available on the restaurant’s normal menu. It is not a typical Roberta’s meal but it is representative of one.

Roboppy, The Girl Who Ate Everything, joined in on the fun and took the wonderful pictures featured throughout this post.

The East Dennis Oyster, Yuzu Granita was a gentle introduction, the yuzu muted and complementary to the oyster’s brininess

Glass Shrimp, celery, finger lime, poppy seed was a well composed dish of texture and dynamic flavors. It served in many ways as an opening salvo for the meal – and I was surprised by the careful and deliberate balance of flavor. Biting down into the raw shrimp, the diminutive poppy seeds inflected just enough crunch to satisfy and counterbalance. The sharpness of the celery and finger lime brought the sweetness of the shrimp into focus. Exactness, restraint, and balance – repeating themes throughout the night.

Straciatella, wild Osetra caviar, pistachio, gooseberry

Texture and balance also underpinned the Cuttlefish, tomato, chili, breadcrumbs. The cuttle fish was grilled to the slightest of chews, no doubt aided by the precision cuts that traversed it, while the breadcrumbs acted as slight crunch counterpoint. The theme resembled the shrimp dish – just enough to notice. The char, as you can see, had a great range from black to barely, its smokiness pairing nicely with the tomato and chili.

Black Sea Bass, razor clam, chard, maiatake

The dynamic Foie, persimmon, toffee, black pepper was a sensational seared foie preparation. Always a fan of torchons and terrines, rarely of seared, the flavors in this dish bounced back and forth with each bite. One bit salty, one bite sweet, while the pepper just lingered softly in the background – impressive!

And then there was red meat.

Fantastical tales of aged birds and beef, approaching the limits of the craft, drew me to Roberta’s. There are things that can not be undone, and once you’ve had a heritage bird, or a musky ribeye, it is hard to return to a world of steakhouses and industrial breeds. With the current trends of DIY and mining history, it’s surprising that more restaurants do not put greater efforts into their meat programs, outside of charcuterie. Economics and taste⁴ are probably culprits but Carlo has made a commitment to procuring, aging, and cooking, the best meat. Four meat dishes – four meat references for me – demolish the suburbs, plant more fields, and let’s raise more animals.

Constantly on the hunt, wild animals are lean and tough. Dry-aging the meat, where the meat’s enzymes break down collagen in the muscles, helps both tenderize and intensify flavor – a great one-two punch. But the practice does not have to be relegated to creatures of the wild. The meat at Roberta’s is intense and aggressive – it has obviously been aged close to its limits. It is probably not for everyone, but it is quite special.

Curious about the dark arts of aging birds, I asked Daniel Klein, of the excellent Perennial Plate blog / documentary series, as well as a veteran of Fat Duck and Mugaritz, a few questions on the subject. He’s a hunter and I was curious how much experimentation he had done with this aspect of his bounty.

There is not a limit to aging a bird, although in my limited experience, two weeks for game birds adds to the flavor without making them overly strong and a week is good for farm raised poultry. You can really hang a bird until it starts to have a slight smell of funk, and then cook it, but I am wary of that – and have yet to try. Apparently it will have quite a strong flavor. Birds have more unsaturated fat as compared to Saturated fat with Beef, that is why they go bad faster – its less stable. In conclusion, a good time frame for birds is 1-2 weeks, preferably with the innards left inside and if it is game the feathers should be left on. This may have something to do with oxidization causing more rapid decay.

The meats began with Trofie, squab heart and liver, a rich and complex dish that managed to maintain its balance. The texture of the pasta provided a complementary resistance and offset to the richness of the ground organ meats. Those remarkable tales, if this dish were any indication, were probably true.

The Squab, kohlrabi, black garlic not only had an intensity, but a depth, that was remarkable. It is hard to imagine how much more flavor could be extracted from the meat but the skin, charred liberally (see leg), crackled and imparted additional smoky notes. The squab was a revelation by itself but the black garlic, fermented, used sparingly, added a slight dimension of sweet and tangy.

Venison

Normandy Duck, treviso, with its crackling skin, oozing fat, the incredible richness – who needs pork?

I knew in advance the Cote de Beouf, fingerlings, spigarello, sweetbreads , if it were served, could be the true masterpiece of the meal. Over the past two years, my preferences towards beef have shifted to an extreme of six plus weeks of dry-aging. There are exceptions, of course, but it is of the main reasons wagyu does not excite me as much as the next person.⁵ There is a funkiness to the taste, certainly not for everyone, particularly in the outer fat, the reason some call it “controlled rotting.” And this massive steak delivered on every expectation – marvelously ‘cooked’ – one of the best steaks I’ve ever had, including the mature cows of Spain.

After four courses of red, intense meat, expectations exceeded, without the possibility of coming back on this trip, a pizza was in order. And, of course, some desserts.

Celery Root, mascarpone, gouda, scallion

Olive Oil Cake, chestnut gelato, confit olives

Pannacotta, sunflower, sunchoke

When you catalogue important restaurants in the US, what they do, and how influential they might become; Roberta’s should be in the discussion. It has its own vision, one of intuit and function over marketing and form. Its many dimensions of discrepancy does not overshadow its purpose, though it does add fun, interesting color. The body of work, from space to dish to philosophy, is inspirational – perhaps the truest measure of a DIY project – a commitment to re-writing the terms of the future.⁶

And, yes, the food is exceptional!

- chuck

1 – It is quick, short ride from Manhattan to Roberta’s on the L line but ask any Manhattanite for directions to Bushwick and they will act as if it’s new unmapped territory. If they were discussing Roberta’s in particular, they might be right!

2 – Those DIY ideals include, but are probably not limited to, Brooklyn Grange – the largest rooftop farm project in New York City; planting rooftop greenhouses; and housing the Heritage Radio Network in a shipping container.

3 – There are exceptions – one the subject of my next blog post – Saison in San Francisco.

4 – Economic because a hanging bird is not a selling bird, and it’s occupying precious square footage in expensive temperature/humidity-controlled rooms. Taste because most people are accustomed to bland industrial breeds where flavor is but one market factor.

5 – I like it very much but, if given a choice, I’d take grass-fed aged 6+ weeks any day. My butcher has been consistently dry-aging rib-eyes for eight to ten weeks. I’ve found that ten is just on the wrong side of “assertiveness”, as the fat definitely gets funky. I wonder if one got a working cow, one that has plowed fields for untold years, without much fat, what its dry-aging limits might be?

6 – For my last zany idea, as I wrote this post and titled it, Roberta’s kept reminding me of something. And then it dawned on me – the community feel, building something from nothing, trying to create something that will live on – the story has many of the same themes as the excellent Robert Altman movie, “McCabe and Mrs Miller.”

An upcoming slate of posts, guaranteed to trickle out over the next few months, will continue the recent interest in narrative, structure, and creativity in meals. Highly-anticipated meals at l’Arpege (my fifth) and Pierre Gagnaire (my fourth) in July helped illuminate inconsistencies and possibilities unexplored. And it was Saison recently, in San Francisco, that took a l’Arpege blueprint and rocketed to one of my favorite meals of the year. For all of the experimentation on methods, ingredients, & expectations, the structures of many meals remain largely the same.

And this curation below, culled from 2010′s best, would be no model to follow, if consumed as one meal. It would be a series of hits, lacking much rhythm or subtlety, the antithetical kaieski meal. This list does not (necessarily) represent my favorite restaurants, or even my best meals ²; instead, it’s merely a collection of the favorite things I ate this year³, in a restaurant with fine-dining aspirations⁴, in some vaguely appropriate order for a hedonistic mock meal.

Commis (Oakland, California)
Egg Yolk, Onion soup, date jam, steal-cut oats, chives

The ubiquitous egg of 2010, mandated by PR firms as menu necessities, was omnipresent in restaurants. Uneven ingredient and conceptual quality rendered it tiresome. Not the case at Commis. This riff on the infamous l’Arpege egg was indeed world-class, belonging in conversations with its ultimate influence. Its yolk was half-cooked to an exceedingly satisfying texture throughout – particularly in context with the textural contrasts of the oats and onion puree at the bottom. Near the finish, the jam lent its sweetness, lasting for ten seconds or more, as the oats were chewed.

It is a restaurant that confounds me as two dishes appear on this list – I always recommend it to anyone that asks – and yet my desire to return is low. The amuses and appetizers are where the real genius of Chef Syhabout shine through in all of their glory. A carrot dish last year, paired with nori, honey, & brown rice vinegar was a perfect balance of sweet, sour, and umami. But the beginning courses do not match the later, larger protein courses – there’s a disconnect that I can’t resolve – a personal disagreement with the framework of the meal.

photo by Ulterior Epicure – this dish made his Best of 2010 list too

Manresa (Los Gatos, California)
Mandarin and jasmine tea jelly

David Kinch’s food flirts with traditional and modern Spanish, French, and Japanese as he weaves his garden-grown ingredients through 20+ course tasting menus for the gluttonous. This dish, however, is iconic Manresa that possibly captures Kinch at his best – bold and exact flavors rendered subtle and introspective. It is culinary transmutation and it happens nightly at Manresa.

Citrus has been relegated to sashimi compositions for too long on American shores; make a trip to Manresa during the winter and early spring Bay Area citrus season for a change.

full review – Why David Kinch Deserved to Win the James Beard Award

Manresa (Los Gatos, California)
Raw milk panna cotta with abalone

Seductive and profound – my dish of the year – transmutation, alchemy, magic. The abalone, with all is meatiness, was tempered by the cool raw milk pudding, presumably milked from the same cow as the extraordinary best-in-the-country butter. The slight salinity of the dish, possibly from the abalone, possibly sea water mixed into the panna cotta, held it all together while faintly referencing salted butter. There were also inflections of sweetness and tanginess. Fifteen minutes of bliss (yes, I stretched it out that long, bite by bite.)

from a November meal

Ubuntu (Napa, California)
The Garden Snake – Leaves, Flowers, Roots, Lemongrass Oil, Herbs Soil, Truffled Pecorino

New style, same ethos – the Garden Snake was an excellent successor to Jeremy Fox’s Carta da Musica – an ebullient celebration of the Ubuntu garden’s bounty. The range of textures kept each bite new and interesting, while the truffled pecorino lingered ethereally in the background.

Ubuntu will get more press time here in 2011. A busy year prevented me from trying Aaron London’s food after Fox left. Sadly, that was a big mistake – Ubuntu is still the most exciting restaurant in the Bay Area that isn’t named Manresa. And I won’t miss the upcoming spring and summer menus.

from an October meal

Georges California Modern (La Jolla, California)
Bacon-wrapped Harpoon Swordfish – kohlrabi, watercress, dried squid broth

The food media has an unhealthy obsession with New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Chicago, arguably waiting for trends to reach these epicenters before they can be validated for publishing. A recent article in the New York Times might lead you to believe the current foraging trend started with chefs picking weeds in abandoned lower Manhattan lots. There were many others just as qualified for mentions, interviews, and/or features; they just didn’t live near the bright lights. If you don’t live near the writers…

My Georges California Modern meal by Trey Foshee was enlightening because, in part, I forget my own beliefs – there is just as much culinary excitement outside of these cities as within them. Chef Foshee’s meal hit the major boxes on my checklist – conceptually exciting take on his area, high-quality ingredients – many local, generally flawless execution, and a beautiful flow between ingredients and dishes.

As umami garners more attention, the magical dried squid broth in this dish could serve as its very definition. The broth was light and refined, but it packed an intense squid taste while still being balanced with depth. It was a stunning broth – and its memory lingered most from that wonderful meal. (The fish itself, harpooned, was a reference point for me in terms of swordfish too.)

full review – Of The Place

Saison (San Francisco, California)
Brassicas in various ways, boullion of toasted grains

In the past, I have said Michel Bras was etched into the DNA of various chefs and trends; but Saison’s Joshua Skenes is channeling Alain Passard unlike no other. Saison has been open for just over a year, and based on my second visit recently, it is hitting its stride. So much so, that it completes a triumvirate of Quince, Coi, and, now, Saison, for fine-dining horsepower in San Francisco proper.

Skene’s food has a lightness that really appeals to my current sensibilities. He is slowly cooking vegetables and meats to extract their maximum natural flavor and he is simplifying dishes, reducing them to bare essentials. This food is probably not for everyone – it might lack substantialness to some, familiarity to others – but it is accomplished.

The brassicas are cooked in the open hearth, slowly & separately, shifted around to get a variety of textures. A warm boullion of bonito broth is enhanced by the ever-so-sweet toasted grains, rounding out the depth of the broth. The dish is as simple as simple can be, on the surface, but its complexity lie in the varying textures and the interplay between char and broth. This should be a signature dish offered with every Saison meal – entirely possible given the Bay Area brassicas season is year-round. If you want to taste the spirit of l’Arpege, without the flight, this is the dish.

from a December meal

The Sportsman (Seasalter, UK)
Sole in seaweed butter

The Sportsman, just famous enough, is the logical end of the “eat local” narrative – everything served comes from its immediate radius. And the chef, Stephen Harris, touches everything served in the restaurants – from harvesting the sea salt to making his own (tasty) butter to aging his own hams. It is as close to a singular artistic expression as one could expect in a restaurant.

Have you ever tasted the ocean in a piece of fish? This sole was very firm; so firm that I suspect some people would not like it, despite its tremendous quality. It took a bite or two to get adjusted to its texture. Not since Tokyo have I tasted the sea in a bite of fish – a minimal dish that relied completely on the quality of its product and deft cooking. Seaweed butter – seaweed from the beach a few feet away, dairy from cows a few miles away, and the butter is churned in-house – dedication to a vision.

full review Tasting Menu DIY

LudoBites 6.0 (Sherman Oaks, California)
Crème Fraiche Panna Cotta, Caramel Sauce, and Caviar

Once upon a time, there was a fantastic chef that Los Angeles largely eschewed, in favor of who knows what at the time. The stately dining room, European three-star territory in every manner, was sadly empty. This chef was a shining star, someone who recalled the best moments of Pierre Gagnaire – daring and impulsive creations that challenged perceptions and expectations – among the very best in the country. He left to cook pizza in a Las Vegas club, re-packaged himself on TV as an enfant terrible, and shot out as LudoBites – a built-for-food-blogger super nova that has become the poster-child for pop-up restaurants.

After trying every dish on the menu, shared with other bloggers, it was this classic Ludo dish from his Bastide days that trumped every dessert I’ve had this year. Caramel always works best with salt in my opinion, and it’s the caviar in this dish that delivers that unexpected impact. It certainly shares affinities with David Kinch’s raw milk panna cotta with abalone mentioned above. But Ludo, at his best, is a master of texture too – and the back and forth of the creamy crème fraiche and sticky caramel is just as much genius as that caviar touch.

Someone find this man a proper fine-dining restaurant – please – it would instantly rank in the nation’s top 10.

photo by Tomo Style – a LudoBites veteran & one of many dining companions that night

Commis (Oakland, California)
Charentals Melon cream

Carlos Salgado has always been a favorite – his caramelized french toast at Winterland, SF’s first (short-lived) foray into molecular gastronomy, was inspired. During his tenure at Coi, his desserts were often more pleasurable than the mains for me; and his work at Commis is equal to that of Syhabout. He is the West Coast’s Sam Mason or Alex Stupak, less molecular, more seasonal, equally good.

The dish beautifully captured September in the Bay Area – it was wonderfully aromatic and well balanced. The flavors were vibrant, both the soup and compressed melons, but restrained and light. It was a refreshing end – pitch-perfect for both the meal and season.

photo by Ulterior Epicure – this dish made his Best of 2010 list too

Ubuntu (Napa, California)
Goat’s milk caramel

Pastry Chef Carl Swanson’s goat’s milk caramel, or cajeta, would be my preferred Kevorkian solution if I were diabetic – the depth of flavor, slight tanginess, and a sickly (in the very best sense of the word) viscosity – are irresistible, even in large quantities. The slow-cooking method, Swanson saying upwards of eight hours if I remember correctly, gives cajeta a depth of flavor that is hard to match in caramel’s relatively one-note sugar. The richness was paired with apple, but sometimes, one must forget about trying to balance and simply indulge.

from an October meal

So what will 2011′s perfect meal look like? Like David Kinch, of Manresa, I believe American fine dining will begin to pull a lot of influences from Japan. It conveniently fits into the 2010 narrative the media has constructed, as Japan takes seasonality to its most extreme degree. But lost in the “seasonality” and “foragers of the wild” storylines is the issue of quality – and that is where Japan is such a revelation.

Quality should be the subtext of statements like “s/he makes their own butter” or “they forage their ingredients”, not morality or romanticism, when talking about fine dining. It is admirable that someone makes their own butter, or carefully sources grass-fed beef, but what is the point if I can easily buy a better product from retail? There is a lot to unravel here, beyond the scope of this post, but I hope it’s the next step for 2011.

Where will 2011 take me? Roberta’s in Brooklyn. Kajitsu or Kyo-ya in Manhattan. More Ubuntu meals in Napa. More Georges Modern meals in La Jolla. A trip back East to visit McCrady’s, Husk, and Townhouse. An Elements meal should happen. And hopefully a visit to Portland, with Castagna at the top of that list. Most readers know a half-dozen Manresa meals is a given. Locally, 4505 every week for a burger; Una Pizzeria monthly for a margharita fix; and Cotogna for a bi-weekly fix of Michael Tusk’s excellent pasta, pizza, and grilled meats. And a dinner date with a wolf.

- chuck

1 – And it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. San Pellegrino, surprisingly, has not been the subject of “food trend” articles; but it arguably exerted its power this year by naming noma #1. Do some research, and it’s out there, to see how many reservation requests that ranking generated. Agree with the list or not (I don’t because the people voting haven’t necessarily eaten at the restaurants), its power is undeniable.

2 – That would be l’Arpege, before the meat courses arrived, and it’s hardly a competition. But none of the individual dishes made this list – it was just a tremendous arc where everything worked together. An October meal at Manresa would place second – possibly my best there yet.

3 – Where are the blog posts, dude? Merely two of the eight meals represented here have been discussed on the blog. Some will appear in 2011. The short of it? Commis confuses me (but not as much as Coi), Manresa is getting better (and deserved a third star), Ubuntu is still highly recommended, Quince is the only restaurant I’d recommend over Saison in San Francisco, and l’Arpege’s garden lunch menu is one of the great meals, and deals, on this planet.

4 – An arbitrary distinction, but one in-line with the blog. What might make it on a non fine-dining list?

Una Pizza Napoletana might very well displace Keste as my favorite pizza before 2011 is over. There are such a small range of details – salt, blistering, yeast, mozzarella tanginess – and Una can stand up to Keste, jab for jab. Two undisputed masters of their craft.

Humphrey Slocombe’s Secret Breakfast ice cream is a weekend ritual. Their Coke float, made with secret breakfast ice cream and bourbon caramel, is always tempting too!

Jacques Genin caramels re-defined caramels, and patisseries, for me. The caramels’ texture are on a different level to anything I’ve tasted. The Wandering Eater wrote a great synopsis of her visit earlier this year. A must-visit when in Paris, particularly in the summer, as the air conditioner is divine.

Boccalone lard caramels are decadent and their nduja is always in my fridge.

4505 Meats cheeseburger – I’m a fairly busy person these days but if I miss my Thursday, or Saturday, 4505 hamburger at the San Francisco Ferry Building farmer’s market, I get ornery. If I show up late, and they’ve sold out, I get downright angry. I am addicted to these burgers and their dry-aged minerality goodness and, outside of the Minetta Tavern Black Label burger, I haven’t found any burger that comes close in flavor. Admittedly, the Prime Meats burger, with acclaim over its dry-aged funkiness, tempts me so.

photo by lesleyk – an introduction to the great burger