The Confabulist

Bar Jules: welcome to the neighborhood!

Bar Jules is a bit of an oddity.  First off, it's a restaurant, not a bar, and despite the name, it doesn't (yet) have a liquor license.  It's a tiny restaurant, but it doesn't take reservations.  It sprung up on the site of the "Don't Call It Frisco" laundromat, an unassuming little spot way at the western end of the Hayes Valley strip.   But despite the circumstances, Bar Jules may just be exactly what Hayes Valley needs.

The menu is very focused.  There are typically four or five appetizers, two to three entree choices, and a couple of desserts.  And it changes daily.  It's written on two large chalkboards in the interior of the restaurant, though it's posted on paper on the outside window for passers-by, and -- brilliantly -- is posted every day on the web.

The preparations are simple and ingredient-driven.  The night we dined, there was a ribeye available, but I've been trying to eat more fish lately, so with some reluctance I ordered the wood-grilled swordfish ($24).  But the dish's focused presentation of fish, citrus, and olive flavors was far more satisfying than I expected.  Rebecca had the farro and chestnut soup ($9) and the raw artichoke salad ($8).  The soup in particular was curiously delicious, a tasty combination of uncommon flavors and textures.

If subsequent meals are this good, eating at Bar Jules might be a regular occurrence for us.  (If they get their liquor license, they'll be a shoe-in!)  Strangely, the overall Yelp rating sits at around 3.5 stars.  Mostly this appears to be due to some hiccups during the first few weeks of being open, but a lot of it is due to the way people rate things on Yelp (and on open review-based sites in general) -- there's a strong tendency to give punitive one-star reviews, or to give artificially low reviews to "correct" what people feel are other reviewers' poor taste, ostentation or bandwagoning.  Nevertheless, I think the rating will eventually converge on four stars.  In any case, don't be put off by the Yelp score, whatever it might be.  It's worth checking the place out for yourself.

Hayes Valley has a lot of restaurants, from casual eateries to high end destination spots.  But to my mind, Bar Jules fills a need we didn't know we had.  Welcome to the neighborhood!

Happy Birthday To Me (Vignette Restaurant, San Francisco)

It's birthday season.  Not content with a single day, I've annexed an entire week to celebrate my birthday, at least in spirit. My wonderful and beautiful girlfriend initiated the festivities last Saturday.  First, she took me to my favorite shirt store and bought me several great new shirts.  We had lunch at The Pork Store, tromped through the Haight for a bit, and then headed home for a leisurely afternoon.

After some relaxation, we got dressed up and headed towards Nob Hill. She took me out to dinner at Vignette, which, despite being three or four blocks from home, we hadn't yet been to.

--//--

Amuse Bouche: Cream of Mushroom Soup

You can't really tell from the picture (above), but this is a very tiny little cup.  What's more, there's almost no liquid in it -- just a very little bit at the bottom.  The cup is mostly full of foam.  Of course, this is what all the cool kids are doing these days.  And, strange as it may seem, it really can be quite impressive. Despite being mostly air, the foam somehow contains the concentrated essence of mushroom.

--//--

Green Salad with Laura Chenel Goat Cheese

Not a particularly interesting course.  It felt out of place among far more stimulating dishes.  The goat cheese was very nice, but even it felt like it was there as a platform for other flavors that the restaurant elected not to actually put in the dish.

--//--

Sauteed Sweetbreads with Madiera and Sorrel (pictured)

We're always a fan of sweetbreads.  Actually, that's not true.  If they're poorly selected or prepared they can be veiny, rubbery, or mealy.  These, however, were quite acceptable. Rebecca specifically asked for this dish to substitute for the Crispy Skin Quail that was supposed to be served.  When she'd looked online before making reservations, the menu she'd seen had sweetbreads for this course, and she'd been looking forward to that.  Fortunately, the sweetbreads were still on the A La Carte menu even though they were no longer on the tasting menu, so the substitution was no problem.

--//--

Day Boat Scallops
With Balsamic Foie Gras Sauce

A very tasty dish.  I imagined that the sauce would overwhelm the scallops, either with the tartness of the vinegar or with the sugar necessary to balance out the vinegar in the sauce, but I was wrong; the sauce was fairly mild, and though it was rounded out with sugar as I'd imagined, the scallops were actually sweet enough to stand up to it.  The puree it was served on was impressively smooth and also had a mild natural sweetness.  I guessed that it was some sort of squash that I was not familiar with.  When we asked, we were told it was a potato puree.  I have no idea how this could be.  I have never made a potato puree that tasted like this, and I have never had a potato puree at a restaurant that tasted like this.  On the other hand, the menu that we found online (which was, as I mentioned before, not up to date), corroborates the potato story.  Furthermore, Craft's semi-eponymous cookbook describes a potato puree with exactly these characteristics: ...I was told that the dish had sparked a debate among chefs in San Francisco:  What did I put in Craft's version to make it so sweet?  The answer: nothing.  Use only Yukon gold potatoes... If what I had at Vignette was a pure potato puree, I must be doing something terribly, terribly wrong. Not that that isn't entirely possible. (Note:  The current tasting menu posted on the web says that it is, in fact, a potato puree.)

--//--

Seared Rare Venison Loin
with Braised Endives and a Tart Cherry Sauce (pictured above)

A solid dish, but not stellar.  The venison is tasty but not bursting with flavor, and the ensemble is somehow standoffish and never really gels.

--//--

Granny Smith Apple Gallette
with Toasted Almond Ice Cream and Caramel Sauce (pictured)

The desserts were very good.  I actually had the Warm Chocolate Cake with a Port sauce and Berries, which was also good, but the pictures didn't come out well, so what you're seeing is Rebecca's Apple Gallette.  Both were worth eating.

--//--

We haven't had a lot of tasting menus since we've been back in the town.  We enjoyed this one.  There were a few weak spots, to be sure, and nothing just killed me, but there were several solid dishes and a few surprises.

After dinner, Rebecca told me we were headed to a show.  I expected us to wander toward the Theatre district, but we wound up going along Market towards the Civic Center area instead.  No, she didn't take me to an Opera.  We went to Snowshow, which was a lot of fun.  Much of the clowns' movement reminded me of dance movement, and from that perspective it was enjoyable to watch.

During the intermission, the clowns came out into the lobby to shower people with "snow" (little pieces of paper) and generally make a nuisance of themselves.    The ghostly figure below had just finished opening up a woman's purse and filling it with paper snow when I snapped his picture.

I had a great day.  Thanks, baby!

Little Saigon: Thanh My and Nuoc Mia

Thanh My

The original plan for the day was to set out in search of culinary adventure.  By the end of the day, I wanted to try three or four things that I'd never had before -- that I'd never even considered eating.  I browsed online for menus, made inquries on Chowhound, called some friends for recommendations.  And I had some pretty good leads, too:  Elephant clam and sea cucumber in Westminster, grasshoppers in Fullerton, "crunchy sea worms" in Santa Monica.  But when one attendee couldn't make it, another couldn't join us for the whole day, and the only remaining stalwart said that he wasn't going to eat any "weird sea creatures" no matter what, I decided to examine some less exotic (but still interesting) alternatives.  I'll have to have my adventures some other day.

We settled on Vietnamese in Westminster, at Thanh My, a restaurant that I've read good things about on Chowhound and elsewhere.  This was somewhat of an unfortunate decision, because this was the weekend just before the beginning of the Chinese New Year, and apparently there was a parade or something, because we spent quite awhile in traffic like in the picture.  If there was a parade, we never encountered it; when we pulled into the restaurant parking lot, all we saw on the road ahead was more traffic, stretching off to infinity.

I should preface everything that follows with an admission:  I don't know a damn thing about Vietnamese food.  I'm quite ashamed of this.  I consider myself a bit of a foodie, a chowhound, you know, an Eater Of Things.  To have totally missed out on such a strong and noble food culture...let's say it undermines my credibility to say the least.  Worse yet, for a year and a half I've been living 20 minutes away from the massive Vietnamese cultural resource that is the Garden Grove/Westminster area and I have never eaten Vietnamese food there.  I've made the drive out for Dim Sum, and that is all.  Someone should come out and cut off my tongue, because I don't deserve to have it.

There is an upside to this condition, however.  It means that there's a whole cuisine out there for me to explore! Completely new things to experience! 

The Cha Gio (Imperial Rolls -- not pictured) were quite servicable.  Fortunately, I did know how to eat these, as one of the few times I have had Vietamese food I was roundly chastised by a waiter for grabbing the egg rolls and eschewing the lettuce, herbs, and other items.

Next were the Crunchy Noodles.  (I didn't write down the Vietnamese name; maybe it was the Mi Xao Don?)  If I'd known anything about Vietnamese food, we'd never have ordered this.  It's pretty much the same as a Chinese crispy noodle dish (which, admittedly, I don't even like all that much).

Goat Curry was next on the agenda.  We ordered the appetizer, Cary Ga Hoac Cary De, which comes with a loaf of french bread.  I didn't even notice that there was a specialty goat curry dish, De Rung Xao Lan, as well. It's nearly twice as much; I wonder what the difference is?  Is it twice as good?  Twice as large?  Twice the spice? This dish was enjoyable, and though it was not stellar, I thought it was worth the $7.

Deep Fried Frog's Legs.  When I was a kid, I thought of frog's legs as the height of fancy cuisine.  And here they are, prepared like bar food.  Seriously, the only interesting thing about frog's legs are the subtle differences that they have from chicken.  Those differences can hardly be appreciated after being breaded and deep fried.  Give this one a miss, especially at the price ($13).

Here's another shameful admission.  One of the reason I've never pursued Vietnamese food is that so much of it seemed to me to center around soups.  And I've always thought of soups as a prelude to something.  The idea of ordering one as a main course...all that liquid, sloshing around in your stomach...no, it's not right. (Never mind that I love a good Beef Bourguignon or boullaibaisse and think nothing of eating them as a main dish.) So I wasn't really expecting too much out of the Hu Tieu Tom Cua Xa Xiu (Rice Noodles with Crab, Shrimp, and BBQ Pork in a Pork Broth) that my friend ordered. Oh, what a fool I have been.  These soups -- I know, I'm the last person in the world to know this, but bear with me here -- are gorgeous, complex affairs. They leverage the interplay between opposites -- soft and crunchy, sweet and spicy, hot and cool, cooked and fresh -- to create sensory experience. And the broths...this is no crappy canned stock.  It isn't even a simple boiling of pork parts in water. Aromatic, full flavored, but completely balanced. It is obviously the product of a labor of love. This broth has soul.  It's hard to find soul for $5 any more.

So some hits and some misses in the meal.  I have no one to blame but myself for the misses, though.  Next time I'll know better.  And there will be a next time...soon.

Nuoc Mia

We weren't quite done with Little Saigon.  For dessert we hit Nuoc Mia, a Vietnamese candy store of sorts that also makes sugar cane drinks.  Apparently it's well known for those drinks, because when we arrived the line for drinks stretched from the back of the place three quarters of the way to the front door.  (By the time we left, the line extended out the door!)  Maybe they're a popular drink around New Year's.  I hadn't planned to buy one, but after seeing the line, I had to try it.  We kept looking for a drink menu, but there isn't one -- apparently there's only one flavor.

The drinks take some time to make.  For each drink, the sugar cane stalks must be run through a formidable-looking press two or three times, the resulting pulp strained, and various other ingredients (lychee?) combined with the juice in order to make the drink.  Still, I couldn't help but think that the place was ripe for some young, ambitious, soul-killing Operations Research drone.  They could probably double their throughput and revenue with some simple optimizations that would still leave the drinks tasting 83% as good as they do now.

The taste is difficult to pin down.  It's not nearly as sweet as you would imagine.  It somehow manages to be tasty without having a specific flavor.  I'm not beating down anyone's door to open a franchise or anything, but it was fun to drink.

We bought and subsequently split an uber-variety pack of various candies.  You'll have to wait on the details, though; I'm saving those for another post.

Restaurant Review: Bistro K, Pasadena, CA

Dinner was to be found at Bistro K, a beautiful restaurant in South Pasadena.  It's nestled into the corner of the building that houses the Fremont Center Theatre.  The Theatre is worth checking out; consider getting Bistro K's pre-theatre offering and attending a show afterward.  (That's what we did, and we had a lot of fun.)  Of course, if you do that, you won't be able to do the five-course degustation menu, so mull over your priorities before making your plans.

As appetizers, Rebecca and I both ordered the Foie Gras special.  A torchon graced the regular menu, but the special was Seared Foie Gras with Sauteed Apples and Eel.  That's right, foie and eel.  Normally, we try to get different appetizers in order to get more exposure to a menu, but we both love eel, and where foie gras is concerned, we're both just too selfish to share. 

Combining eel, foie gras, and apples is not unheard of. (See, for instance, the book "Foie Gras: A Passion".)  Neither of us had ever had it before, however.  The foie gras was of good quality (and there was plenty of it!).  I would have liked it a little bit crustier.  The eel had excellent texture and flavor.  Rebecca and I both felt that the taste of the eel tended to dominate the taste of the foie gras.  To me, it felt more like an eel dish, although there was much less eel than foie gras.  I didn't mind this at all; there's nothing that can dress up eel like a little (or a lot!) of foie gras.  The textural combination of the two is matchless. But Rebecca preferred to eat them separately.  She loves foie gras Just That Much.

For our entrees, Rebecca had Veal Sweetbread with Wild Mushrooms, Tarragon, and Crayfish Ragout.  Wish I could tell you something about it.  I was entirely too busy with a "Pot au Feu" of Fresh Squab, Duck Breast, Poached Foie   Gras, Poached Leeks and Shallot Confit in a Lime Nage.

Pot au Feu is the French version of what the English, in their relentless pursuit of flowery culinary terms, call "Boiled Dinner".  It is normally made with beef. A typical traditional version involves boiling the beef with onion, carrots and celery in water for an hour or so, letting it sit for a day, add other vegetables such as turnips, leeks, and potatoes, then boil the hell out of it for another hour or so.

Sounds great, doesn't it?  You won't be surprised to hear that I've never ordered Pot au feu at a restaurant, nor attempted to make it at home.  First off, I always resist the idea of boiling anything.  The whole point of most cooking techniques is to increase flavor and complexity. When searing, for instance, you may lose flavor as liquid escapes from the meat (it's a myth that searing "seals in the juices"), but the flavor you gain from crust formation and from carmelization of the juices on the pan, which you then incorporate into a sauce, far outweigh any loss.  But with boiling in water, you leach flavor into the liquid and give nothing in return. This could be fine in the case of a soup or a braise, where you intend to use the liquid.  But "Boiled Dinner" is not a stew; most of the liquid is removed before serving (though it is hopefully used for some other purpose).  I'm sure a traditional Pot au Feu is much better than I give it credit for (it is classic French country cooking, after all), but I've just always been more attracted to other menu items.

I will wear a pointy hat and annoint myself Pope, however, before I pass up any dish that has both Squab and Duck in it.  Throw a little Foie Gras in there and I'll take two.  (Actually, I didn't realize that the dish also had foie gras in it when I picked the appetizer.  Not that I wouldn't have settled on the same choices; I just would have felt guiltier about them.)

Bistro K's interpretation of Pot au Feu minimizes the potential loss of flavor by poaching the ingredients in a lime court boullion (thereby lending the flavor of the boullion to the ingredients), and serving them in a dish with a bit of the boullion at the bottom (returning some of the lost flavor to the dish).   

One characteristic of poaching (which is just like boiling, only at a lower temperature) is that it results in a very tender texture which can, if done properly, border on sublime.  In this dish, the duck was this way.  You could almost cut it comfortably with a fork.  The squab was also very good.  The meats were flavorful in and of themselves, but were even more interesting with the boullion, which had a slight citrus tang that was a perfect counterpoint to the sweetness of the poultry. And naturally, the foie gras lended just a bit of kick to everything.

As good as the rest of the dish was, the shallot "confit" nearly stole the show.  No, it isn't just that I don't get to eat onionlike products that often.  It was better than candy.  And folks, I love candy.

I'd like to make this dish, but I think that without the onions in the court boullion, the leeks, and the shallot confit, it would suffer.  Besides, it's tough to get fresh squab, and even the frozen stuff is expensive. And there's no substitute for foie gras.

Still, I think I could find an worthwhile interpretation, if not one quite as transcendent.  Maybe use duck legs and thighs (cheap and plentiful in the chinese areas) and free-range chicken breasts, if I can find some at reasonable prices.  Perhaps find a way to work a little pork in there in some fashion.  Use roasted garlic instead of shallot confit.  Throw a roasted tomato in there. Maybe a mound of root vegetable brunoise with bacon and rosemary in the middle of it all.  I'll think about it.

There are two astounding things about Bistro K that I have not mentioned yet.  The first is that they don't yet have their liquor license.  As a result, they encourage you to bring your own wine, and they don't charge corkage. That's right, folks, no corkage.  We brought a $50 wine that we'd purchased three or four years ago (hence, it felt like it was *free*) that would have cost $100 or more in a regular restaurant.  Wine is often the most expensive single element in a meal, and restaurant wine lists don't always have what you want (Oh boy, Chardonnay again...well, at least they have twelve to choose from). The ability to cut wine costs in half or more and to bring exactly what you want, even from your own stash, is just tremendous.  As we left, we saw a large group that had the right idea.  The table was crowded with wine glasses -- it appeared that there were at least two per person.  I saw at least eight or nine bottles of wine, including several of my favorites -- a Vieux-Telegraphe, for instance.  Sigh.  Makes me nostalgic for the heady days of non-studenthood.

The other astounding mentionable is the price.  For the most part, entree prices are $16 or less.  That's right, for the same price as a horrible meal at, say, the Black Angus Steakhouse (sans incredible moneysaving coupon), you can eat at Bistro K.  Pick your jaw up off the floor.  You'll need it to call for a reservation.

boulevard restaurant review

Rebecca and I managed to get a last-minute, late-night reservation last night at Boulevard.

I went to Boulevard when I first moved (back) to California three years ago. I had a pork chop, I remember, and a glass of some Napa Syrah or another. And it was so good that for the next four months, whenever I went out to eat, if the restaurant had a pork chop (or loin or tenderloin) offering and a Syrah by the glass, I'd get it. I tried hard to repeat the experience, but nothing quite measured up.

Since then, I've often referred to Boulevard as my favorite restaurant. Yet until last night, I hadn't been back. Perhaps to shield myself against disappointment?

--//--

Dungeness Crabcake
with Lemongrass, Coconut, & Sesame Crust,
Asian Citrus & Green Papaya Salad with Basil, Mint & Cilantro
Served with 2000 Patz & Hall Napa Valley Chardonnay

Speaking of experiences that can't be reproduced, my crab cake/Chardonnay obsession, though waning, was still strong enough to distract me from the Oxtail Tart I was eyeing. (No, I don't mean our waitress.)

I've been trying to have this experience again, with little success. Sometimes the wine isn't up to snuff; other times it's the food.

The Patz & Hall Chardonnay was smooth, spice-laden, and rich. The crab cake, while it had all of the flavors I was looking for, still didn't have enough oomph for me. Better than the Paul K entry, but still not the crab cake of my dreams. Especially at the price.

--//--

Wood Oven Roasted Angus Beef Filet Mignon
Roasted Portobella Mushroom & Roma Tomatoes
French Fingerling Potatoes with Roasted Garlic Beurre Fondu
Served with 1997 Hess Collection Napa Cabernet Sauvignon

I know, I know, I told you to Never Order The Steak. (See here, toward the bottom of the page.) But this is what the waiter recommended based on my preferences. Which were admittedly slated heavily toward the red meat end of the spectrum, I'll admit. I probably should have been more open to poultry, but you know, sometimes...

But I don't regret my choice. The filet was fantastic -- spiced just right, cooked just right, and in great company. The roasted tomatoes were some of the best I've had, and I loved the potatoes, though Rebecca found them a little firm. If I'd had this when I first moved out here, it would have meant four months of filet mignon instead of pork chops.

--//--

Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Pie
Banana-Chocolate Chip Ice Cream, Banana Caramel Sauce
Served with a Banyuls from an unknown producer

"What kind of wine would you recommend with the Peanut Butter Pie?" I asked the waiter. It's a bit of a challenge. Chocolate isn't the easiest food to match with wine. Then there's the general problem of matching wines to desserts -- you need a wine that's a bit sweeter than the dessert, which means you must be pretty familiar with how sweet your wine offerings are and exactly how sweet the desserts are. Finally -- though this is a far lesser issue -- there's the peanut and banana flavors to be concerned about.

"Well, let me see. There's the Banyuls...and, um...the Banyuls. Yeah, that's about it."

I sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what he'd said. I was sure I'd misheard.

"Ban-yuls," he said. "It's a fortified wine from southwestern France. It's main claim to fame is that it goes well with chocolate. I assumed it was a bunch of PR hype. I'm being convinced otherwise."

If I'd have tasted the Banyuls blind, I'd have picked it as a Port, albeit a strangely flavored Port. I did seem to go unusually well with the dessert.

Which dessert, by the way, was fantastic. Pure chocolatey, peanut- buttery goodness.

--//--

Service was excellent. I've always liked the ambience. And the food, while not the revelatory experience I'd had the first time, still held an epiphany or two.

Rating: **** 1/2

restaurant review: paul k

Rebecca's father was in town this week. Last night we found our way to Paul K, a much-discussed new restaurant in the Hayes Valley area.

Dungeness Crabcake
with charred treviso,
aged sherry vinaigrette, and melted lemons

Passable. A bit sparse. The crab cake was a bit small to be a centerpiece, and the accoutrements, while pungent, lacked volume. I was hoping for something a bit more luxurious and substantial.

--//--

Bay Scented Duck Breast
with pomegranate molasses, ragu of duck confit,
portabella mushrooms, and fingerling potatoes
served with 2000 Reserve Heron Lake Pinot Noir

I found the ragu and the mushrooms to be rather bland. The potatoes were fine, but unremarkable. I want to get that out of the way, because I will spend most of the rest of this section lauding the duck.

This is the best duck I've had in recent memory. Quite possibly in contention for the best duck breast I've ever had. Supple, tender, and flavorful -- this is what duck should be like. The last few duck breast entrees I've had just haven't been up to this standard. Preparing a duck breast is ostensibly simple, but can easily go awry. It can be too chewy, too cold, too cooked, too bland. What I had last night was none of these. This, my friend, was one kick-ass duck.

The sauce was admirable, if not stellar; it provided a fruity acidic bite and sweetness that complemented the duck nicely.

The Heron Lake was recommended to us by our server, and it proved to be quite up to snuff. A bright, vibrant Pinot Noir, but instead of the tartness and astringency that often accompanies such a wine in this price range, the Heron Lane was soft and approachable. Make no mistake, this is not the most subtle or complicated wine. But it is food friendly and drank very well with our duck as well as Rebecca's father's roast chicken.

--//--

Steamed Fig and Almond Pudding
with blood orange rum sauce
served with 2001 Truchard botrytis Chardonnay

Sumptuous.

--//--

The service was friendly and prompt and the ambience enjoyable. I felt that the food was uneven. Even so, the peaks manage to justify the plateaus. There's a lot of promise in Paul K.

Rating: 4 of 5

napa trip log: french laundry

French Laundry

Editor's note:  Entire Napa trip report begins here.

 

    "Oysters and Pearls"
    "Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca
    with Poached Malpeque Oysters and Osetra Caviar
 

(With this dish we ordered a half bottle of NV Billecart Salmon Brut Rose.)

This dish consisted of a small bowl with a bed of pearl tapioca at the bottom, a few pieces of poached oyster meat resting on that, and caviar on top, surrounded by a pool of some kind of cream sauce.

Not typically the kind of dish I enjoy best.  But I loved it. I worried that the dish would be briny, something I'm sensitive to, but it was instead just pleasantly (and mildly) salty. The combination of textures of the oyster, tapioca, and caviar was fun!

--//--

 

    Moulard Duck "Foie Gras Au Torchon"
    with Bartlett Pear Relish and Toasted "Brioche"
 

(With this dish we ordered an aged Austrian dessert wine made from a lesser-known relative of Gruner Veltliner. I wish I'd written the information down.)

Given the choice between the endive salad and the Foie Gras, we all ordered the Foie Gras.  The torchon was creamy and delicious, as you might expect.

--//--

 

    Pan Seared Filet of Atlantic Halibut
    with Summer Pole Beans, Squash
    and "Confit" of Vine Ripened Tomato
 

(With this and the following dish, we ordered a half bottle of 1999 Premier Cru Chassagne Montrachet, Domaine Marc Colin, which is a white Burgundy, which is typically made from Chardonnay.)

Fantastic.  The halibut was done perfectly , with a crispy sear on the outside and a firm but velvety texture on the inside. It was also inexplicably flavorful, as if this halibut had lived out its life in a pool of chicken stock and white wine instead of seawater.  The beans, squash and tomato were perfect complements in texture and in taste.

The wine was very good.  I can see this being a "bridge wine" that might draw lovers of California Chardonnay into the world of Burgundy -- it's very accessible, full of peach and pear flavors, but still exhibiting the restraint and balance that's characteristic of good Old World wines.

--//--

 

    "Beets and Leeks"
    Sweet Butter Braised Maine Lobster
    with Melted Green Leeks, "Pomme Maxim"
    and Red Beet Essence
 

Otherwise known as the "Tower of Lobster".  The base of the tower is built from lobster tail meat.  This base is covered in a thin layer of bright green paste, ostensibly the "Melted Green Leeks". This paste is a kind of mortar which joins the base to a second layer of lobster -- this time composed of claw meat.  Set gently atop this majestic column is a wide, thin cracker of fried potatoes ("Pomme Maxim"), which makes this dish look like a radio telescope in The Little Mermaid.

The tower is surrounded by a moat of "red beet essence", a thick red sauce made from beet juice and a strong stock, among other things.  This sauce is the tastiest thing imaginable.  I wanted some with every course.  Including dessert.  ("Sir, here is your Creme Brulee with Red Beet Essence...")

The whole ensemble was good -- sweet, buttery lobster framed by the strangely neon green leek mortar -- but what I remember most is the Red Beet Essence.

--//--

 

    Braised Cloverdale Farms Young Rabbit "En Ravioli"
    with a "Ragout" of Forest Mushrooms
 

(This course was served with a half bottle of 1999 Pommard Les Perrieres  Jean-Michel Gaunoux, a red Burgundy from Cote de Beaune.)

Both Rebecca and I like rabbit, but nevertheless I liked this much more than I expected to.  The rabbit was flavorful and moist, and the giant fresh pasta ravioli was the embodiment of chewy goodness.

The wine, I must say, was a perfect choice.  Earthy and slightly spicy, and with a long finish, this is a great wine -- especially so for the price.  Wine is amazing.  Just when you think you're getting the slightest handle on it, you realize there's a whole wild world out there of wildly different stuff just waiting for you.

It's not like I haven't had Burgundies before.  But every time I have a good one I get this feeling, as though it's a drink from an alien planet.  (Which I suppose it is -- it comes from France. )  Slowly I'm coming to realize that it's a planet that I'd like to spend some time on.

--//--

 

    Pan Roasted "Chateaubriand" of Four Story Hill Farms Veal
    Garden Herb "Risotto" Cake
    and Jacobsen's Farm Fig "Marmelade"
 

(With this course we ordered a bottle of 1998 Chateau De Pez, a red Bordeaux from St. Estephe.)

The perfect veal dish, I imagine; succulent, perfectly cooked slices of veal atop a risotto cake.  Trouble is, I'm never deeply impressed by veal.  I've never walked out of a restaurant thinking, "Oh my god, that was the best veal dish I've ever had." This probably was, in fact, the best veal dish I've ever had, but I found myself wishing I had some Red Beet Essence to go on top of it or something.

The wine is another story.  My complaint about inexpensive Bordeaux is that they often feel flat in my mouth; there's a nice start and often a decent finish, but nothing in the middle.  Not so with this one.  It's incredibly full-flavored and  left my entire mouth tingling slightly.  The only thing that made it even better is knowing that if I can manage to find it around town, it'll cost me less than $30/bottle.

--//--

 

    "Goat's Leap Eclipse"
    with Golden Raisin and Hazelnut Salad
 

Now begins the endless parade of dessert courses to wind down the meal.  One gets the feeling that, behind the politeness and decorum, the waitstaff has the desire to see you explode.

This phase of the game is all about economy.  Spread as much of the food around on your plate so you may miss some, not realizing there is more to consume.  Resist the temptation to order any more wine in an effort to conserve space in your stomach.  Attempt to convince whoever finishes first to have a couple of bites of yours.  Whoever's stomach ruptures last wins.

Actually, the pacing has been very good.  I've had tasting menus before (most notably the remarkable meal at Masa's) where I was getting full going into the two "main" courses.  It wasn't until this point that I got that funny feeling that means that your stomach is reaching the limits of its elasticity.

Simple as it was, I enjoyed this dish immensely.  The cheese is a great find, and is superb in combination with the sweetness of the golden raisins.

Editor's note:  We now see the first significant manifestations of the author's food-induced psychosis.  Here he jokes about the waitstaff being out to get him and the meal being a competition of sorts.  These seemingly harmless humorous gestures are in fact indicators, as you will see, of the author's growing paranoia.

--//--

 

    Goldmine Nectarine Sorbet
    with Toasted Almond "Financier"
 

Getting full.  Not sure how much more of this I can take.

A Financier is merely a small rectangular browned-butter pound cake, but describing this one thusly doesn't do it justice.  It's a paradox:  light but somehow substantial.  The perfect platform for showcasing the sorbet, which is a masterstroke.

Despite being close to capacity, I found myself checking other people's plates to see if they had sorbet they couldn't finish.

--//--

 

    "Delice Au Chocolat"
    with Coffee "Anglaise" and Chocolate "Dentelle"
 

Editor's note:  The author's handwriting becomes increasingly erratic at this point.  The experts we consulted see the sudden shift to present tense to indicate an dangerous change in mental state that is common in food-based psychosis.

Barely holding it together.  In the future for meals like this I will bring a girdle, in the hope that compression will assist in keeping my stomach from ripping at the seams and the contents of dinner spilling into my intenstinal cavity.

Heavy but well balanced chocolate dessert.  Frankly, I don't remember too much about it, as most of the blood had migrated away from my brain and to the vessels in my stomach lining. I must have liked it immensely, since I ate it all, despite not having any space for it.

That was the last course, so after a brief walk to my hotel I can spend the rest of the evening immobile in front of the television.  So I think I'll be fine, no thanks to those gits in the kitchen who keep bringing me more food to eat.

--//--

 

    Mignardise
    with Coffee "Anglaise" and Chocolate "Dentelle"
 

Editor's note:  The author's aggressiveness may seem sudden, but as we have pointed out it has been a while in coming and was clearly forecast in the text.

Bastards!  They've brought an entire plate of strange little cookies!  They said we were done eating!  Now they taunt me!  In particular there is a tartlet with a large glowing yellow ball in the center, somewhat reminiscent of lemon curd, which I must investigate.  They have researched me and know about my weakness for lemon curd.  I must be watchful.

--//--

Editor's note:  The author's handwriting is nearly illegible.

I have downed several cookies and managed to avoid consuming the others.  But now the waiter dropped the final gauntlet.  He's brought  a box containing five macaroons and set them in the center of the table.  Each macaroon, he explains, had its own delicate flavor: jamaican vanilla bean, saffron, red beet, pistachio, and coffee.  I see their plan. They made them different flavors so I must try each one . They don't think I can do it!

They have no antacids here, so I have ordered a preparation of baking soda and water, which my mother always took for stomach problems.  I will take a short break and resume eating the macaroons and whatever else the devils bring me from the kitchen.

--//--

Now I am ready.  People will tell tales for years of my victory over Thomas Keller.  They will sing songs in my honor.  I will begin with the saffron macaro

Editor's note:  The record ends here.  The author's psychosis prevented him from seeing what any seventh grader who has dreamed of blowing up seagulls would have spotted:  bicarbonate of soda should never be used as an antacid on a full stomach.  In a particularly ironic circumstance, we suspect that the baking soda had a virulent reaction to the vinegar in the Red Beet Essence which he had eagerly slurped off of the plates of his dinner companions earlier in the evening.

The subsequent rupture of his stomach combined with the existing psychosis sent him into what is known in the vernacular as a "food coma".  He has yet to awaken from this state.  Food comas resulting from dinner at The French Laundry and other, similar restuarants have been known to last years.

The author has been released, still comatose, from the hospital where his ruptured stomach was successfully treated.  He is now being cared for at home.  Messages and inquiries can be sent here.

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