“Known for its uni”, a review for Soto is never written without this line, ² some PR agent’s dream fulfilled. In a city of multiple starred Japanese restaurants, Soto owns the sea urchin position – “if you want uni, go to Soto.” San Francisco, Los Angeles – someone should be paying attention. And it is surprising that, for as sophisticated as New York sees itself, a 2 star Michelin restaurant specializing in uni, one of the sea’s greatest delicacies, does not generate more attention – a blessing and a curse. Sea urchin, Michelin stars, and an under the radar reputation, what kind of puzzle sat inside Soto? No omakase was offered on this evening so the menu constructed was a gluttony of guilty pleasures – uni, lobster, caviar, uni, and, oh, they say uni is good here, so add a few more courses of sea urchin to that long list.

It was a very cold January evening, days after the infamous blizzard, and this, presumably, led the kitchen to start the meal with Miso Soup. This soup followed the aforementioned template of luxury ingredients – a broth made from lobster dashi and uni bouillon, filled with lobster meat, with fresh-sliced ginger shoots. It reads bombastic, and the guilty pleasure centers hope it is so, but this soup was quite restrained with mere essences of sweet lobster and the briny sea, despite its brilliant yellow color. This was a pleasing introduction to the restaurant.

Uni tempura with uni powder, clearly agape ordering, missing only an uni sauce, lost the identify of the urchin – a slight firming and crumble – instead of a creamy burst hiding inside the impeccable crust. The expected textural contrast did not materialize and the flavor was more muted than expected. Neither restaurant nor meal can be judged by one dish but there was concern – would later composed uni dishes fall as flat as this?

As if on cue, to restore expectations, an Uni Cocktail of Japanese Sea Urchin, Soy Reduction, & Fresh Wasabi came out. (Seemingly) simple and refreshing, the intensity of the soy reduction paired well with the stronger Japanese urchin. It is one of the dishes you think you’ve had a thousand times but there are small inflections and tastes, primarily the rich soy reduction, that suggest the tempura was a fluke and this chef still might be the uni whisperer.

Small sashimi plates from the bar, Wild Red Snapper Carpaccio and Fluke Suzukuri, were composed and balanced nicely, aged vinegar and sea salt / lime respectively, but one was left with a general feeling of uneventfulness. Soto’s fish is very solid but it is not sourced from the upper echelons. While not every fish can be, my preference is to just let the fish live. Being a glutton, I could not pass up nigiri at the end of the meal – “just to see.” With rice on the gummier side, the symbiosis between rice and fish, the true alchemy of sushi, was missing. This was puzzling considering the textural mastery of some later dishes – but sushi has many styles and preferences and perhaps this is the way Chef Sotohiro Kosugi prefers it.

Hit and miss, sputtering to a degree, the meal was falling inline with my expectations to this point – if nothing else, I’m cynical. Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri, uni wrapped around thinly sliced squid and seaweed, playfully resembling its hidden treasure, was a bold statement – this is why Soto and uni are synonymous. A quail egg on top breaks as you delve into the artful construction, mixing with the slightly sticky raw squid and the creamy uni, it’s a masterpiece of textures and sensations. With each bite, the seaweed’s crunch quickly shatters, the squid turning more muculent, and the uni enveloped the mouth with its creamy brininess. A shiso leaf sat inside, a foil for the richness, a guiding light to the end. Spectacular beyond words, every miss before, any miss after, none of it mattered, the evening’s mission was fulfilled.

The Ika Truffle – thinly sliced (ika) squid and shiso leaf, wasabhi tobiko, marinated in black winter truffle puree & madeira – was very pungent, overly strong without balance, umami on overkill. The squid was merely there for texture, densely formed into this puck. This was my least favorite dish of the evening, although At the Sign of the Pink Pig completely disagrees with me. But I agree with him – it is worth trying – for its intensity is unmatched in any dish of recent memory.

Steamed lobster with uni mousse – layers of steamed Maine lobster and uni mouse in a lotus wrap, garnished with smoked uni and caviar – proved again Chef Kosugi has a tremendous mastery of texture. The lobster, barely cooked, still had some crunch; the lotus wrap, thinly sliced, had a degree more crunch; each capsule of caviar popped; and the sensualness of the uni mousse complemented the rest. The differing sweetness of each, lobster vs lotus vs urchin, was also surprising, the interplay changing with each bite and finish, the smoke lingering just a touch. Despite every expectation of extravagance, this dish reached even higher, to the heights of the Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri – two masterpiece dishes – in one otherwise solid meal.

It seems like the menu hardly changes ³ – and that’s a great thing in my opinion. With every chef caught up in seasonal, local, sustainable; too many dishes are made in the moment, with the market’s ingredients, without the practice & refinement necessary to create masterpieces. Some genius strikes immediately, with intuit; but most great ideas benefit from continued refinement. The Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri and Steamed Lobster with Uni Mousse ⁴ are clearly the work of many years of refinement, achieving many dimensions of balance. For those two dishes alone, upper three-star territory, a visit to Soto is highly recommended.

The virtues of Soto’s uni have been well noted – to the point that one wonders why he doesn’t craft a few uni tasting menus per night – oh, the possibilities.

- chuck

1 – My quick take? Get outside of the major metropolitan areas – there’s a whole world that BART and MTA just don’t reach – like Castagna in Portland this weekend, more challenging, interesting, and rewarding than WD-50 (though the cuisines are in no way related); Town House in Chilhowie, VA a month ago (my review coming some day), where Chef John Shields combined technique and ingredients in truly rarefied territory; or Husk in Charleston where Sean Brock re-defined Southern food for me, and I grew up in “the South.”

Did I mention Georges at the Cove in La Jolla two weeks ago where Chef Trey Foshee delivered a quintessential San Diego meal, ending with extraordinary “dry-aged carrots”, roasted with the juices of dry-aged steak. You can follow some of these adventures on Twitter while waiting for the eventual reviews.

2 – Some other reviews of Soto:

Dot in a Box

Eat Big Apple

Grace Notes NYC

3 – Doc Sconz’s review from 2009 has many of the same dishes.

4 – Do not share these two dishes – they are that good – everyone should have their own.

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.”

Conventional wisdom (mine included), among those who have eaten at both restaurants, says Urasawa (LA) is a better experience than Masa at one-half the price. It was a case of the student, Urasawa, surpassing the teacher, Masa. The Masa experience has been derided for its exorbitant price and short duration. If you factor these two variables out, and just focus on the food, I had the best sushi meal of my life at Masa this past February.

I say that begrudgingly because eating at Masa, contrary to its Zen-like atmosphere, is not enjoyable. Before being asked for a drink, the waiter asked me if I’d like to “upgrade” to the kobe beef menu with its $100 surcharge (he might have learned this trick from his buddy Thomas Keller.) This is on top of a $400+/person menu. It’s impossible not to think about the price as you eat each piece of sushi. When the first dish arrived, they scolded me for taking a picture – “no pictures.” My sushi chef, the most junior of the three, did not say a word to me all night – an automaton cutting fish and rolling rice. And, just as you’re getting started, the whole thing is over; for me, during the later seating, it was 1 hour and 45 minutes, and that was stretching dessert out for 1/2 hour.

But this was the best sushi meal I’ve ever eaten, top to bottom, item for item. Every piece of fish, save the toro, was remarkably fresh and full of flavor. The timing of the meal was certainly a crucial factor – sweet and oily – trademarks of the winter sea. My automaton may not have talked but he was programmed to dole out perfect rice. I don’t remember the rice being better than Sushi Yasuda on my last trip but this was the best rice I’ve ever had.

The highlights were a deep sea snapper that had a beautiful consistency, its texture redolent of the most perfectly steamed black cod – despite being raw. The saba mackerel was pure heaven. The uni risotto w/ black truffle divine, the black truffles better than a majority of the ones I ate last year during the Truffle Trip. A pickled lotus wrapped around a shiso leaf with a sour plum dot was the perfect palette cleanser (is any chef listening? This was perfect!)

Their grill guy might give Etxebarri a run for their money – he deserves an immediate pay raise. The grilling was remarkably done – never overpowering, almost always just right (although the grilled white fish was not charred enough.) Very close attention to detail – it appears that’s all he does standing there in the back.

The only disappointing items were the fried fugu and toro. The fried fugu came nowhere near the magical wonders of that perfectly fried mystery leaf two years ago. The fugu was juicy and tender but the batter was greasy. The toro was very fatty but it lacked much taste. The most senior chef said they were getting it from Boston right now, directly from the fishermen, but I’ve definitely had better from the same waters.

Irregardless, a truly outstanding meal. The complete menu:
- japanese peeky toe crab w/ seaweed & yuzu
- toro tartar w/ caviar
- fugu w/ its own liver w/ yuzu
- fried fugu
- uni risotto w/ black truffle
- wild hamachi shabu shabu
- shabu shabu soup

and then the sushi parade:
- toro x2
- shimaji
- japanese fluke
- deep sea snapper
- sweet shrimp
- grilled white fish w/ black truffle + sea salt
- grilled scallop
- grilled toro
- clam of some sort
- saba mackerel
- grilled shitake
- octopus w/ (potent) black truffle dollop
- hokkaido uni
- squid w/ sea salt
- black truffle ball sushi w/ black truffle dollop – too dry
- sea eel
- grilled unagi
- toro roll
- pickled lotus wrapped over a shiso leaf topped w/ sour plum – *outstanding* finish

And a lone slice of very ripe Japanese melon for dessert. My American palette would have preferred an ice cream – oh well.

I would highly recommend Masa if you are ready “for the next step.” However, I will put disclaimers in that recommendaiton – you must understand what you are getting yourself into. I ate this meal in February when the fish quality is very high (winter = colder waters = fatty and oily.) This was only my second meal at Masa and it could have been an anomaly – my first meal was about 90% of this one. The rice plays equal partner to the fish. It is insanely expensive (even for this blog) – you can not get out for less than $600/person after tax and tip. And, finally, don’t expect a four hour meal – expect two, anything more putting you in the bonus round.

Would I rather eat at Urasawa? Yes. Will I find myself eating at Masa again? Absolutely.

- chuck

Other reviews, both very positive, include Gotham Girl and A Life Worth Eating.

Despite the theoretical criticisms, Robuchon is an important chef and I had not eaten his food. Good reviews, a burgeoning form of online peer pressure, further convinced me this was a necessary stop. I could not hope to catalog Robuchon’s New York cuisine as extensively as A Life Worth Eating has done in their 3-part post – appetizers, mains, and desserts. Their write-up should be mandatory reading for anyone contemplating a meal at a L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon (near you!)

Beginning shot – Foie Gras with parmesan foam
The ubiquitous shot, a necessary beginning to any haute cuisine meal, began the proceedings. The “silky-smooth” foie gras dominated the dish with the foamy, salty parmesan essence and sweet port reduction playing counterpoint to the foie’s richness. Some day I would like to have a meal made completely of shots; if any chef is reading this, email me when you’re ready!

La Langoustine – Crispy langoustine papillote with basil pesto
An exquisite dish with exceptional frying skills. The batter, brik dough, was very thin, and greaseless – you can see the basil leaf and langoustine through the dough. Its slight sweetness complemented the langoustine’s sweetness, with the basil giving it a nice pop.

L’Anguille – Caramelized Eel layered with smoked foie gras
Some of the greatest moments at Pierre Gagnaire (Paris) come with foie gras or fish liver paired with seafood. When I saw the eel/foie option on the menu, visions of rich extravagance danced in my head. Unfortunately, the cloyingly sweet eel overpowered the foie in both taste and texture. The foie might as well not have been integrated into the dish. A very odd dish when one considers Robuchon’s reputation for balance and perfectionism.

La Saint-Jacques – Day Boat scallop in their shell with seaweed and Bordier butter
Bordier butter, the stuff of dreams and $1000 meals, is an automatic must-order if the option presents itself. I was skeptical this would be the same magical butter found at L’Arpege (Paris) but it was worth a shot. Unfortunately, the dish was rather pedestrian – a sweet scallop, cooked fine, with whipped butter, that was just a US-imported version of the real deal. It was quite buttery but the butter was nowhere near the richness levels of French (or is that L’Arpege?) Bordier.

L’Oursin – Sea urchin in warm fennel broth
Uni, too, is usually a must-order but I was skeptical of the fennel broth. Any fears were allayed when the broth turned out to be a few spoonfuls dabbled over the dish. The urchin, while not top grade, worked well with the bright fennel broth, their sweetnesses complementing each other. But the uni was not firm enough nor clean tasting enough. The dish could have been perfect – the uni quality being the inhibitor.

La Caille – Free-range caramelized quail stuffed with foie gras, potato puree, and black truffle
On paper, it reads romantically suicidal; particularly, if one knows Robuchon’s potato puree is 50% butter. However, the dish is remarkably, though not perfectly, balanced. The sweetness of the caramelized quail complemented the richness of the foie. I would have liked a more acidic element than the salad with vinaigrette to the side. The potato puree was everything everyone has ever said – perfect – right up there with Michel Bras’s aligot as one of the great potato dishes. The truffles were an afterthought as they were cardboard-y and void of any intense taste.

Les Burgers – Beef and foie gras burgers with lightly caramelized bell peppers
This dish is absolutely iconic of the L’Atelier concept – casual quality. These tiny bite-sized burgers, at $13/pop, could easily become a habit. The texture is the first introduction to the dish – the sauted foie and burger, somewhat similar, their boundaries blurred, bursted everywhere, with an excellent saltiness. The buns, brioche, had a light crust to give the dish just enough resistance. I will disagree with Luxeat – this is the best burger in Manhattan, with the Burger Joint a clear second. The Burger Joint hamburger was excellent; this was just that much better; alas, you will go broke eating these with any regularity. I suppose I will have to try the infamous DB Bistro (NYC) foie/short rib burger to complete the triumvirate.

La Nage de Fruits Frais – Fresh fruit in light lemongrass nectar, basil-lime sorbet
This dessert hit every keyword for me and it was a refreshing end to a rather rich meal. I’m not a huge tropical fruit fan so some of the bits were not to my liking, but the basil-lime sorbet sung with its focused flavor.

Le Pamplemousse – Grapefruit segments, wine gelee, mint sorbet
A perfect ending – the mint sorbet was particularly potent and helped offset the acidity of the grapefruit. The wine gelee, though in the background, helped round the flavors out.

It’s an international cuisine, perfect for upscale hotels across the globe, but it lacks identity and personality. It jumps around, from here to there, with nods to this and that; without, seemingly, going anywhere. There is a precision and focus; but, aside from the langoustine and burgers, there are better examples of all the dishes elsewhere. The ingredient quality in a few key dishes were also suspect. Given the price point this restaurant wishes to play at, I agree with Ulterior Epicure that there are better alternatives.

Despite those criticisms, this was a good meal. It was not a destination meal, one I would recommend for someone traveling to try the best, but it was well-done. It deserves its one Michelin star much more than, say, the Spotted Pig (NYC). The memory of the langoustine and hamburger/foie sliders might lead me yet again to L’Atelier – you never know.

- chuck

The Wandering Eater recently ate at Jean Georges and her meal is similar to my report below. The dishes don’t change much so older reports can be just as reliable when planning.

The amuse bouches, Sunchoke & Cranberry, Shitake, and Salmon Belly, laid the blueprint for the meal – sharp tastes with an emphasis on textures.

Santa Barbara Sea Urchin, Black Bread, Jalapeno, and Yuzu began the meal with a forceful punch. The flavors were intense, seemingly bouncing around without concern for integration, but they melded together with each bite. The yuzu and jalapeno took turns dominating the tastes but both gave way to the urchin’s lasting sea flavor at the end. As jarring as the tastes, the textures of the dish played as prominent of a role – the crisp jalapeno, the transformation of the bread as you chew it, and the pervasive creamy uni. Very Good.

Sea Trout Sashimi Draped in Trout Eggs, Lemon, Dill, and Horseradish continued the full-blown taste and texture themes. The sequence of silky fish, popping fish eggs, and (I believe) crunchy skin lit up your mouth as much as the powerful tastes. And powerful they were. Blindly sticking your fork into the bowl would yield a completely unbalanced proportion of horseradish to lemon. After experimenting and adjusting, a powerful, but balanced, combination emerged where each ingredient managed to complement each other. Very Good.

The Foie Gras Brulee with Sour Cherry-Yuzu Marmalade was absolutely stunning – it will make it into 2008′s list of great dishes. The crust was tough while the cold foie inside was very creamy. The textural sensations were on par with the tastes; again, a wide range – the hard crunch of the shell, the ‘softer’ crunch of the brioche, and the creamy foie inside. The marmalade gave the dish just enough acidity. Excellent.

On paper, the Black Cod Steamed with Honsheimeji Mushrooms and Lemongrass Consomme sounded like it could hit that right note of subtleness with me. However, the dish was a bit bland. The fish was slightly over-cooked, preventing the texture from achieving that wonderful black cod silkiness. The lemon zest in the mushrooms perked up but nothing else popped. The lemongrass consomme lacked much flavor, despite being mixed with tomato water. Ok.

The Crispy Arctic Char, Miso-Potato Puree, and Granny Smith-Jalapeno Juice was a fantastic concept with some execution issues. Texture was front and center – crisped skin, the red chips, the fish, and the puree. The fish was not cooked correctly – the outside was overcooked while the inside was raw. Regardless, the taste sensations reminded one of the earlier dishes – upfront jalapeno and miso that gave way to the fish and apple. Good.

The Tangy Glazed Short Ribs, Crunchy Grits, and Herb Salad, no fault of the restaurant, were too much – I was full. The glaze was quite sweet but the herb salad was powerfully acidic and did a great job balancing out the richness of the ribs. The crunchy grits fulfilled the textural obligations of a Jean Georges dish.

There were a lot of desserts and I didn’t keep notes. However, I thought they were very good overall. They blended effortlessly into the meal – a sweet continuation of the savory courses. There were big tastes – tamarind ice cream and apple/dill sorbet – and textures – jicama noodles. I would probably order one less dish next time so I could enjoy dessert more.

Overall, I had a very enjoyable lunch. This time, I enjoyed the in-your-face flavors, so much that I missed them in the cod dish. For the price, I think every food lover should try Jean Georges for lunch. Jean George’s dining empire spans the globe, and much of his cuisine is ubiquitous, but the flagship restaurant offers a worthwhile experience.

- chuck

1 – This meal cost $149 with a $70 bottle of wine. That is a remarkable value.

2 – It is also worth nothing that I have the special asterisk next to my name in their computer. That symbol may, or may not, account for the quality of the meal.

Rosanjin was suggested nearly a year ago as a possibility for “off the map” dining possibilities. Interestingly, the reviews were, and still are, scarce. Country Epicure has been twice, impressed with both visits. The New York Journal gave it a very favorable review. The New York Times, New York Magazine, and New York Sun all reviewed it, but focused more on the kaiseki experience instead of the food. Otherwise, reviews are hard to come by.

My personal motivation for trying Rosanjin was to begin acquiring reference points for my eventual Japan trip. There are very few kaiseki restaurants in the United States. The only two kaiseki meals I’ve eaten are Sugiyama (NYC) and Kappa (SF). Urasawa (LA) and Masa (NYC) are inspired by kaiseki traditions but they are loose translations from what I’ve read. As such, I can’t comment on Rosanjin’s adherence to tradition and ritual. I can only comment on the food, its relation to those other kaiseki meals, and my desire to return.

My expectations for Rosanjin were confused at best. How could a stellar restaurant experience fall so far under the radar? Did the kaiseki experience scare away New York? Where Sugiyama and Kappa came off somewhat casual, would Rosanjin fulfill the ritualized and formalized aspects purported to be the spirit of kaiseki dining? The questions were many and, upon stepping inside Rosanjin, the two-party dining room triggered alarm bells – no one is eating here.

The ambiance is hushed and quiet, almost to the point of caricature. Very mellow, though somewhat staid to my ears, jazz played through the speakers. If nothing else, this would be the antithesis of my earlier Momofuku lunch experience. The tables were fairly spaced for a New York restaurant and, subscribing to the atmosphere, the other two parties spoke just as softly as the waiters. There wasn’t the subdued awkwardness you’d find at Alain Ducasse (Paris) at lunch; instead, every party had their own temporary autonomous zone.

The Japanese to English translation and my inexperience with this dining, combined with too many years of loud, raucous music (that last one is for Stephanie, my newest reader), left some holes in my notes. I’ve done my best to capture the ingredients and forms, but please post any corrections, or color, in the comments – it’s a learning experience as much as a review.

The meal began with a trio of tastes hidden in hollowed orange shells. A very silky tofu, with hints of sesame, stood out most. It was covered in a tomato gelee (more on this below) which imparted the faintest hint of acidity. The seaweed/mushrooms/pine nuts bowl, land and sea, had a delicate balance of flavor and texture. Texture would be an important, and repeating, element found throughout the meal, possibly bridging the courses.

Tofu w/ tomato gelee, Seaweed w/ mushrooms & pine nuts, Vegetable paste

A yuba custard with shiso buds and fresh wasabi followed. Again, the custard was of an extraordinarily silky texure, a wonderful mouth-feel. Its texture, a link to the previous course, ephemeral and fleeting. The shiso and wasabi gave one the tools to cut the custard. In particular, the fresh wasabi was of a very high quality – its nutty flavor not overbearing.

Yuba custard, shiso leaf, flowers, and fresh wasabi

An asparagus soup was served next; again, its texture somewhat silky. The asparagus flavor was subtle in what seemed like a cream-based soup. However, given what little I do know about Japanese cuisine, it seems unlikely it was cream-based. The pink mochi flower added texture to the soup, giving it some chewiness.

Asparagus soup, mochi flower

The next course, lightly roasted tomatoes with asparagus, was the lone question mark of the meal. It was an odd dish considering that kaiseki is purported to be an overly seasonally-based cuisine, sometimes to the day. Tomatoes are clearly not in season and they tasted as such. How did they find their way in the meal as a centerpiece of a dish? However, I’ve had a terribly unripe beet at L’Arpege (Paris) and a pineapple at L’Astrance (Paris) that Safeway would be embarassed to sell. I can let this one go. If the tomatoes were in season, the dish would have nicely referenced earlier themes (tomato, asparagus, tofu, mushrooms) and provide an interesting arc for the meal.

Tomatoes and asparagus, lightly roasted; mushrooms; tomato gelee; tofu

Interestingly, at this point, I realized that no fish or meat courses were served. Uh oh. I made the reservation through OpenTable and, appropriately enough, my request got lost in translation. At first, I was slightly upset, particularly after the tomatoes, but I wonder if I might enjoy the vegetable menu more? I’ve had sashimi and sushi but these dishes were new experiences for me. When I return, preferably in spring or summer, I will probably opt for the vegetarian option again.

Daikon, boiled to a perfect consistency, topped with a miso yuzu sauce completed the main dishes. The sauce was bright yet still restrained, providing a taste counterpoint to the daikon. The yuba gave the dish a varying textural component to offset the daikon. As with the previous dishes, it sounds simple but there was a meticulous attention to detail.

Daikon w/ miso and yuzu; yuba

The last savory course was vegetable nigiri – pickled ginger, asparagus, and avocado. Again, the limits of seasonality reared its head with this dish. The pickled ginger nigiri was particularly tasty; it was lightly pickled, with more of the fresh ginger taste showing through.

Vegetable nigiri

Dessert was simply two scoops of sorbet – yuzu and a forgotten flavor. The yuzu was very bright and refreshing. Despite it being 30 degrees outside, I’m glad they went with a sorbet option instead of fresh fruit.

Yuzu and something else sorbet

Overall impressions? This was a very good meal, one of the better ones I’ve had in NYC. It looks simple reading the review and pictures, but there was a zen-like quality to it. The food was carefully prepared; a lot of attention was spent on the presentation; and the dishes/ceramics were beautiful. It was exotic and I didn’t feel too many concessions were made for the American palette.

I will have to repeat on my next NYC trip. If it is anything but winter, I will try the vegetable tasting again. At $100, it’s a great deal (Fish option is $150.) If I were to place it in the context of what I know, I’d say it rests just below the Urasawa and Masa level for cooked dishes and just ahead of Sugiyama. It is a very solid and legitimate 1* place.

- chuck

This was more of a social meal so I didn’t take notes. The pictures, while not as good as the last few posts, did turn out ok once I got done with Photoshop.

1. Progressive Tasting of Marinated Fluke

This dish has garnered a fair amount of hype but it’s lost on me. The tasting starts with a simpler citrus-based marinade and progressively gets more “complicated” – more ingredients and stronger flavors. All of the marinades have a bit of heat but I found the last two too strong for the fish. Good.

2. Yellowfin Tuna w/ Foie Gras, Shaved Chives, & Olive Oil

A paper thin slice of tuna covering foie gras. This dish just seemed to be a mis-mash of ingredients without unifying properties. The tuna/foie combination did not come close to comparing to similar combinations from Pierre Gagnaire (Paris). The whole dish just seemed confused. Ok.

3. Kanpachi Tartar w/ Wasabi Tobiko & Ginger-Coriander Emulsion

One of the better dishes of the night – the ginger-coriander emulsion spiced up the dish and gave it a complementary dimension missing from the previous two dishes. Good.

4. Grilled Salt Cod Salad

I don’t remember much aside from it was a neither here nor there dish. Ok.

5. Warm Peeky-Toe-Maryland Lump “Crab Cake” w/ Dijon Mustard Emulsion

This tasted fine but the mustard emulsion was one dimensional. Good.

6. Spicy Langostine Sambal, Chayote, & Pear Julienne

This was a send-it-back dish. I ate one half of the langostine but then I told the waiter it was not that fresh – very mushy. Not Good.

7. Pan-Roasted Red Snapper w/ Ginger-Lemon-Scallion Broth

The fish was overcooked – a cardinal sin at Le Bernardin. Not Good.

8. Baked Lobster, Wilted Romaine, Port & Tamarind Reduction

I don’t remember this dish.

9. Milk Chocolate Pot de Creme, Caramel Foam, Maple Syrup, & Maldon Sea Salt

Thank goodness the egg is still magical – one of my favorite all-time desserts. The sea salt is the masterful stroke. Excellent.

10. Chocolate Ganache & Sweet Corn in 3 Textures

Desserts with savory elements score higher marks with me. The corn sorbet is something I will have to try once corn starts popping up in this area. Very Good.

I’m not dying to go back unless Eric Ripert himself promised me a return to greatness (which I would absolutely heed.) This meal lacked the precision and subtlety of my last visit, not to mention ingredient quality. It was a Saturday night; perhaps a weekday dinner or lunch would allow the kitchen to focus better. Nonetheless, for $180 food cost, there shouldn’t be egregious errors. My last meal was French Michelin three star quality; this meal deserved one.

Providence (LA) has displaced it as the better (and cheaper… and closer) fish-only restaurant in the US. If I were to bastardize these experiences, and enter both meals into an Iron Chef competition, the Providence meal would win hands down.

- chuck

Kuruma’s niche was serving the best raw fish on the East Coast (with Sawa being its equal on the West Coast.) One went to indulge in a hedonistic feast of sashimi, unrelenting even when the sub-standard rice made its way into the meal. Push on, get past the rice, and begin with the seconds of sashimi. It’s an approach that has left the chef, Toshihiro Uezu, befuddled in the past – how do they eat so much?

Over my last five visits, I’ve always done lunch. Enter the non-descript door, push (2) for the second floor, and make your way past the curtain. If you schedule a later lunch, say 1:00pm, the bar can be yours alone. The anti-social element in me likes that; especially in NYC where your elbow-mates could be self-described “shit kings.” In a city of millions worth trillions, a desserted temple of fish perched right under their noses.

This visit was a dinner. I touched down, debated Robuchon, but ultimately decided on the comfort of my sashimi secret. Imagine my surprise when I walked through those curtains to find a bustling sushi bar and restaurant – the secret’s out! There was but one chair left – for me.

“What would you like,” he asked. “You decide – I’ll eat anything.” The poor guy sitting next to me, obviously trying to impress his date on this particular evening, was counting his dollars – “How much is a toro sushi?” “$16!” Don’t come to Kuruma unless your credit card is paid off – little did I know those words would ring truer than ever.

Fresh, wild fish is not cheap. Not that I can always tell, but farmed fish definitely lacks flavor – you are what you eat – and farmed fish eat what their farmers feed them, instead of natural food. When the best fish is caught, no matter where, it takes an immediate journey to the Japanese fish auctions where it will most likely fetch the highest prices in the world. Once it’s bidded up to astronomical levels, it passes through a series of middlemen who add some sort of value or another (this could make a great and interesting study for an Economics student, particularly as it applies to Ronald Coase and his theory of the firm.) At this point, our friends the sushi chefs buy the best fish their clients can afford. And if it’s one of the five previously mentioned, that might entail over-night Fed-Ex’ing from Japan. This is a simplified description of the journey, no doubt filled with some error, but you get the gist of why this sushi can be so expensive. You can refuse to pay the prices, but unless you’re catching the fish yourself, you’re not getting the best. (Note: the book, Tsujiki: The Fish Market at the Center of the World by Theodore Bestor, sounds like a fantastic study into this netherworld.)

Kuruma is usually among the very best – particularly his tuna, bonito, and shrimp. Disappointingly, not on this night. The fish was missing a step – it clearly fell into the second-tier occupied by Sushi Yasuda. Like a fine restaurant, one can’t expect every piece of fish to produce miracles but there was no majesty on this night. Mis-step one.

It was loud and busy – there was no calm. The fish wasn’t performing, the chefs were working too fast, and vacuums of the plate were immediately filled. Where was the pacing? Where was the oasis of calm? I ate seven sashimi dishes, seven sushi dishes, and three extras in an hour. Mis-step two.

And then came the bill. I’m no stranger to large sums but there’s a system for NYC sushi bills – Masa occupies the top, Yasuda the bottom, and Kuruma somewhere comfortably in-between. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.

And then the bill came. Did I enter the wrong restaurant? Did I mistakenly request Masa take-out? Did that second floor exit lead me into an alternate reality where the rules were bent and twisted? I had a Kuruma dinner at Masa prices in Yasuda time. In ordinary terms, a very expensive meal in one hour. In strategic terms, the quadrant you try to avoid at all costs.

Lesson learned – eat at Kuruma for lunch. I’d still recommend it as the top NYC fish spot but I’d add a caveat where none existed before.

- chuck

These words, from a comment in a previous post, echoed in my head the day leading up to my Jean Georges lunch. JG was my first “high end” meal five years ago and it stood head and shoulders above everything else for some time (French Laundry, Ron Siegel’s Masa’s, La Folie, and others.) I remembered a nuanced and subtle cuisine permeated by ginger, lemon, and lemongrass essences. The memory of that meal was so positive I found myself reluctant to return on subsequent visits to New York. Well, it was time to brave those waters again.

I met Alex and Aki from Ideas in Food, two of my favorite chefs in this country (see my previous Keyah Grande reports.) The kitchen offered to cook for us and we were off. Actualy, that’s not entirely true – Alex & Aki brought some pre-food – their whipped yogurt crisps and pop rocks. After that, we got started.

The meal was good but there was no subtlety; the flavors were very powerful and not as balanced as I expected/remembered/wanted. You could equate it to a California Zin. In fact, if you read the dish descriptions below, you can probably immediately identify the flavor in question. There were some small technical errors like imperfect fish (not bad, just not perfect) and instances of less than 3*** ingredients (the tuna ribbons, that disgusting L’Astrance-quality pineapple); but it was the overly-forward flavor profile that prevented me from loving it. And, yes, Mr JG was there. Moby’s words rang true on this particular lunch; the meal was high Michelin 1 star quality.

I wasn’t taking notes (foolish me, I thought I could remember everything) so I just leave you w/ pretty pictures. I will return for lunch – it’s a good deal – and pay more attention next time.

1. Amuse

2. Caviar, Soft-cooked Egg, & Brioche

3. Bluefin Tuna Ribbons, Avocado, Spicy Radish, & Ginger Marinade

4. Cubes of Kanachi, Spiced Japanese Cucumber, & Soy Basil Infusion

5. Crab and Mango Salad, “Chili-Champagne” Sabayon

6. Sea Trout Sashimi Draped in Trout Eggs, Lemon, Dill, & Horseradish

7. Foie Gras Brulee, Rhubard Juice, Pineapple “Raisins”, & Sichuan Peppercorn

8. Green Asparagus w/ Morels & Asparagus Juice

9. Poached Black Cod w/ Honshimeji Mushrooms & Lemongrass Consomme

10. Black Bass Crusted w/ Nuts & Seeds, Sweet & Sour Jus

11. Smoked Squab A L’Orange, Asian Pear, & Candied Tamarind

12. Short Rib Vinaigrette, Favas, Jalapeno, & Mint

13. Carved Pineapple

14. Rhubard Granite, Buttermilk Froth, Cape Gooseberries

15. Pine Nut / Rhubard Cake, Crispy Pine Nuts, Creme Fraiche Ice Cream

16. Donut

17. Mystery Shooter

- chuck

Lunch was no different than usual

• Quick – in and out in under an hour, Yasuda himself launches the sushi as fast as you can eat it.
• Consistent – there were no stand-outs on this particular visit but everything was consistently good.
• Good Value – less than 1/4 the price of the other two heavyweights with 85% of the quality.

This was a Monday lunch – a no-go time slot for sushi but I made the reservation anyway – if Yasuda is open, he must like his fish. After a weekend of eating New York, it hit the spot perfectly and helped brighten what was a mediocre eating trip (reviews over the next few weeks.)

Below are some of the more convincing pictures:

In short, don’t go expecting a calm, relaxing meal – this is no Urasawa. Expect to pay $125/person or so (tell him if you’re uncomfortable), tell him to pick the fish, and enjoy. Request any “vertical” tastings available because they allow you to taste different parts of the fish in rapid succession. He served four different types of toro and if I wasn’t full, he would’ve served three more.

- chuck