Per Se (2)

It all started back in early September of this year. I found myself with plenty of leftover dough from my summer job, and plenty of sensible things to potentially do with it, the least of which being to spend it on a restaurant. Yet fate displayed its dominance, and I decided that once again, I would throw away $298 on a single meal. This would be my third time going, and I am often asked why I am continuously drawn back to Per Se. The rest of this paper will aim to answer that question.

It was September 29th; exactly two months from the Saturday of Thanksgiving break and one of the few times I would be able to make the trek up to New York to dine at Per Se. I would have to call to make the reservation at Per Se at exactly 10 A.M today if I had any hope of getting that Saturday reservation. The only problem? I had school.

I sat patiently in my 9:30 – 10:25 science class as the clock neared 10. Very strategically, at exactly 9:57, I innocently asked to use the bathroom. I walked, no sprinted to the bathroom down the hall. I scrolled down my contact list until I reached Per Se, then dialed, and waited… After three minutes of waiting, a janitor came in. I cowered against the wall, praying he wouldn’t take my phone. “Is it an important call?” “Oh my god yes” I genuinely responded. He told me I had five minutes, then strolled back out of the bathroom. I waited anxiously, attempting telepathic communication with my phone. When that failed, I simply yelled at it. At that moment, almost as if on cue, the janitor returned and told me to go back to class. It was too late. Now all the reservations were surely gone. I waited an hour for lunch then called again. Everything was booked. It looked there would be no Per Se for me this time around. Maybe God was telling me to invest my money for college.

I arrived home later that day and explained the situation to my mom. I begged and pleaded with her to let me try tomorrow to make a reservation for the Sunday of Thanksgiving break, despite it being inconvenient with the next day being a school day and such. She finally obliged. I felt slightly guilty. If God had been telling me to invest money for college, I was laughing in his face. If he ate there I’m sure he’d understand.

Lucky for me, September 30th I had off school for a Jewish holiday (I believe). At exactly 10:00 A.M. eastern time, my sister, mother and I all called Per Se. I was bringing in the reinforcements this time around; there was no way I’d fail. My sister got through first after 15 minutes of waiting, and I snagged one of the day’s last available reservations- 11:30 for lunch. I wonder what the hostess thought of me as she spoke to me on the phone. I was like a kid on Christmas.

After much waiting, I found myself heavy in anticipation on a bus with my dad and sister to New York. I fell asleep, dreaming of foie gras and pork belly as the bus sped across the freeway. We arrived around 9, and my dad and sister soon departed, leaving me alone in New York. I felt like Holden Caulfield. I was a kid alone in New York with a lot of dough. Moreover, like Holden, I would be burning through this dough pretty quick. Per Se was no phony however. Oh no, this was the real deal.

Per Se is a world away from the plush boutiques of the lower levels of the AOL Time Warner Center on Columbus Circle. Glass doors slide open to reveal a zen-like space, dominated by muted browns and grays. If New York is the city that never sleeps, you can at least get some rest in Per Se. Upon entering I was greeted by a flurry of hello’s and happy birthday’s (I was going for my birthday) and was led to my table. A letter was waiting for me on my table. I opened it to a card that read “you’re not getting older per se…” Thomas Keller had signed it at the bottom. I was already having a good time.

Soon after, I met my waiter James. I was told the chef would be cooking for me, and was asked if there was anything I had to have. I told him foie gras and pork belly, and thus began the extravaganza. Note (while I would like to describe every dish, I would run out of adjectives synonymous with “amazing,” and my review would become redundant. I will therefore summarize the experience)

Sparkling Cider instead of the customary champagne**** (I made a mistake in the original and said I was served champagne which a restaurant of Per Se's caliber would never serve to a minor) was poured upon my arrival, and I was given the Thomas Keller signatures; two gruyere cheese gougers and the salmon cornets. I immediately told James that I believed the meal had already reached its peak. He chuckled. My first course (Sunchoke and toasted almond soup with langoustines and almond oil) absolutely blew me away. The soup was perfectly smooth, salty, and full-bodied, the langoustines were uncharacteristically tender and not the least bit rubbery. I once again wondered if the meal had reached its peak, yet quickly dismissed this notion as a cauliflower mousse with mandarin glaze and a large helping of sturgeon caviar came out. I controlled myself and ate the mousse slowly, savoring every last bit with my mother of pearl spoon (necessary for not reacting with the caviar).

The momentum slowed however as I was served Shima Aji (fish in the yellowtail family) with sake granite. The fish was plain unctuous on its own and the sake granite tickled my underage taste buds, however together, the delicate fish was overwhelmed by the strong alcoholic flavor. After eating the next dish however, all missteps were forgotten. The dish was brought to me in a smoke-filled orb, the top half of which was removed to reveal a perfect rectangular piece of pork belly with radishes and a sultana raisin coulis. The smoke added a whole new dimension so the dish, giving the belly smoky undertones along with the unctuousness of thick, fatty pork belly. Call it bacon deluxe.

Tableside presentation added an interactive element to the dining experience. A whole de-boned quail stuffed with foie gras was brought to the table, before being taken back to the kitchen and sliced. Likewise, a large portion of Perigord black truffle (the finest) was shaven over buttery ricotta agnolotti at the table. Both dishes were stunning.

The bread, often overlooked in restaurants, was nothing to miss. A miniature soft pretzel roll put Philadelphia makers to shame and a crusty ciabatta roll transported me to Tuscany.

Per Se cooks variety meats just as well as luxury cuts. I was consecutively served veal sweetbreads then beef callote (cap of the rib-eye). The crispy sweetbread, served with turnips, swiss chard, and a brown butter-veal jus may have been the meal’s best dish. The meltingly tender beef callote, complimented by black trumpet mushrooms, baby Brussels sprouts, and a red wine vinegar sauce, wasn’t far behind.

Eating alone is often difficult, awkward, and more or less boring. My experience at Per Se was quite the opposite. I talked at length with my waiters about anything from how giving hungry prisoners candy and then not letting them drink was once a torture method (and how that would work on me), to how they became waiters. I even found that I shared a love of Fage Greek Yogurt with the wait staff (they eat it on their breaks). While I’m not sure if it pleased them every time I called them over to talk, they showed no evidence to the contrary. Overall, the service was phenomenal.

After the beef callote I asked to take a small break. I had just finished my 13th course, and was beginning to feel full. I ran to the bathroom, performed some breathing exercises, then returned to the table. I can’t imagine not finishing anything at Per Se.

The cheese course followed. Typical of Per Se and The French Laundry is a composed cheese plate with a single cheese. I was served 10 cheeses with four condiments! Highlights were shropshire blue, sierra de estrella, and Cabot creamery’s cheddar. The truffle honey was exceptional as well.

My sweet tooth was satisfied with a long list of desserts. A passion fruit sorbet with pomegranate syrup cleansed my palate, and the complex flavor of brown butter was showcased in a brown butter cake with a candied piece of granny smith apple. I expected the meal to end rather conventionally after that. I think I forgot I was at Per Se. My waiter brought out a whole chocolate cake that they had baked for me for my birthday! A lit candle stuck out the middle. I asked him if he was going to sing for me. He politely refused and told me that they would package up my cake to enjoy with my family, and bring me out a different dessert.

They brought me the signature “Coffee and Doughnuts.” This would be my third time having this dish, yet I was not the least bit unhappy. The yeasted cinnamon sugar doughnuts are accompanied by a cup that appears to be a cappuccino, however under the foamed milk is coffee ice cream. You eat a warm sugared doughnut with some cold coffee ice cream, and a job as a cop suddenly seems appealing.

My meal concluded with some truffles, a small dish of crème brulee, and some toffee. All of which I finished. I didn’t really need to finish them however. I was depressed because the meal had concluded. I was eating out my feelings My experience in New York had come full circle- I once again felt like Holden Caulfield. Per Se kills me.

I got my check, then paid the $298 without hesitation. I got up to leave but then returned to my table. I had almost forgotten my now-packaged cake. I began to walk out the door, but my waiter stopped me. “Thomas wanted you to have this,” and he gave me Thomas Keller’s new cookbook. That’s a $75 cookbook! I was in shock; I didn’t know what to say. I thanked my waiters relentlessly, then stumbled, awestruck, out of the restaurant. I had entered the restaurant at 11:30, I walked out at 4:15.

I walked away from the restaurant back to daily life. My steps were slow, I wanted to lengthen the experience. Again I pondered the question, “Why am I continuously drawn back to Per Se?” “This is why,” I thought, referring to my experience, and that’s the only explanation necessary.

5 Minutes with Thomas Keller

You've got to make the most of the time you're given. Don't let it slip away. -That's something running cross country taught me. The season is short (September-mid October for most) and the time goes by fast. If you don't reach your goals, you've got a year to live in disappointment. You have to give it your all in every practice, every race, every time you eat (will this food slow me down or help me) if you want to get better. You've got to make the most of the time you're given to compete, cause there aren't unlimited races. Every practice you blow off is one day of improvement lost. Nothing just falls into place. You must piece it together.

Recently I was told I would have five minutes with Thomas Keller. This isn't cross country, and if you screw it up, you won't be getting another shot next year. If you screw up, it's not a year of disappointment, it's potentially a lifetime.

I waited off by the side as he finished signing books. My mom and I had waited a long time. An hour earlier, the end of the signing line wasn't visible. I was introduced to Keller and Ruhlman and I shook their hands. I would be talking to them as they signed extra, book copies to be sold at the library- which kinda sucked, but was better than nothing.

I asked first about a new, young generation of chefs. "Chefs at Lacroix tell me I need to learn how to perfectly braise a pork belly before I can sous vide one. What will sous vide do for a young generation of chefs who may never learn how to perfectly braise or saute or blanch?" Thomas told me that would be the end. That we can't let these things become lost to us. He also told me this is the reason that they do not do exclusively sous vide and his restaurants. "We can't let the cooks lose that experience."

I responded by saying that restaurants are financed by customers, and customers don't care whether the chefs are getting that experience, they just want good consistent food (which is a major benefit of sous vide). He asked me "Why do you cook"

"But will sous vide transform cooking into industry?" Keller told me about puff pastry, and how when they were able to make it frozen and widely distribute it, it became much more accessible for people. As sous vide increases in popularity, it will make quality food more accessible as well.

I finally asked him "In the book The Last Supper, you say your last meal would be a roast chicken. Not a sous vide chicken?" He smiled for a moment. "No. I love the aromas, the taste, the memories, of a good roast chicken." Good enough for me. I took a picture with him and Ruhlman then departed.

So was I happy with how I spent my time? Well there was one more question I really wanted to ask him (about his favorite word:finesse, and how refinement improves with sous vide cooking, but finesse falters) but yes. Indeed I was. I wasn't shy, I didn't freak him out (I don't think), and I carried on a pretty good conversation with the man. yet somehow I left still yearning for more. It's ok though. I know our paths will cross again. I know it.

Keller and Ruhlman at the Free Library

"Finally the day had arrived," I thought in science class. It felt like forever from the month or so ago that I had gotten my tickets. Buying these tickets was like making a reservation for Per Se, the time between making a reservation and actually eating there feels like forever. I got back to my test on polar and non-polar substances. I had been daydreaming about tonight for at least 10 minutes. I'd be lucky to finish my test.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pants pocket. I sit in the back, next to a window, a prime spot for both texting and daydreaming. I opened up my phone. My Mom, who had been workin the connections for me, trying to somehow allow me to meet Keller, wrote, "Possible 10 minute interview with Ruhlman and Keller at 7:10." I nearly squealed in my seat, like a pig that Keller might sous vide. I went back to daydreaming. At 4:30 however, I got an e-mail saying that Keller and Ruhlman were running behind schedule, and that I wouldn't be able to get my interview.

My heart drooped, but that wouldn't stop me, or my mom, who seemed to have a plan to get me that talk time. We arrived at the library two hours early, a whole hour and 15 minutes before the doors would open.

At once my mom found out the location of the office of the event coordinator, and before I knew it we were in an employees only area. I crept across the wall, as if I were James Bond, and we eventually found our way to the office of the event coordinator. We explained to him our situation and he promised to find us, if I would be able to talk to Keller.

So I sat outside the library's auditorium doors like a loner, for about 30 minutes before anyone else arrived, and about an hour before they opened the doors. My dedication paid off however, when I got front row seats.

Finally a white-bearded man went up to give an introduction, and said something along the lines of "Michael Keller uses this method to get the most out of his food." Yes, he said Michael Keller. Many from the audience, including me, quickly corrected him, and soon Keller and Ruhlman were on the stage. I'm sure most of you don't need me to describe either of them, but I will nonetheless.

They walked out smiling, and are both strikingly tall. Ruhlman seemed more at ease with the crowd. He is blond with wavy hair and very laid back- a potential surfer dude. My mom later told me that his aura surprised her. Ruhlman is one of the most admired authorities in the food world, he's "strikingly handsome," and he's book touring with Thomas Keller, yet he isn't the least bit condescending or egotistical (from what I observed). Keller seems to still have a little chef in him, meaning he's not as comfortable in the public (out of the kitchen) as Ruhlman is. Ruhlman is more at ease with the world, Keller seems more perfectionist. What Keller has said about cooking ("perfect is only an idea, once you reach it, it disappears") seems to translate into aspects of his life.

Ruhlman gave an introduction. He talked about how Keller had failed every cooking job up until the French Laundry. He talked about how when he was at Rakel, he was asked to serve Caesar salad, but refused and left, because he wouldn't compromise his standards. All of this I knew, yet I listened intently to every word. Ruhlman is the one of the greatest food writers today, not because of the information he gives (which is top notch), but because of the way he tells the information. Ruhlman's more than a writer, he's a storyteller. He turned Thomas Keller's journey through the restaurant industry into an epic.

The presentation was Keller answering Ruhlman's questions about sous vide cooking (its history, its use at his restaurants, safety, application for the home cook, future of sous vide). The presentation was interesting, though I'd heard most of it before. The introduction was my favorite part, I prefer stories to fact books.

The audience asked questions as the presentation concluded. I debated whether or not to ask a question I had been pondering. Would I sound stupid? Would my heart start beating fast? I felt like I was about to talk to a really hot girl for the first time. The first question was asked-something about sous vide in grocery stores, "ah what the hell, you only live once right," I thought. I raised my hand. "You in the front" said Ruhlman. The library worker nearly gave the mic to someone in the next row. I let him know it was me. Early in the presentation Ruhlman had said something about a Vegas Steakhouse having sous vide bins filled with steak cooked at rare, medium rare, medium and well done. I asked him and Keller about this, "Do you believe sous vide will turn restaurants into production lines?" I have no recollection of Ruhlman's response, I was trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. As Keller began to answer, my butterflies receded. He told me that places like steakhouses are kind of already production lines, that they are doing large volume cooking each night, and that they need that consistency that sous vide bring. "For places like steakhouses, the production line aspect isn't necessarily a bad thing." I could accept that. Someone else asked if Keller would open a Bouchon in Philly. He responded "I like Philly so much, I wouldn't wanna have to work when I come here." Smooth Keller, real smooth. The presentation ended.

Stay Tuned for part 2, which includes a lil one on one time with me and Keller.

I met Thomas Keller and Michael Ruhlman

I met Thomas Keller and Michael Ruhlman. The first part of my life is complete. The 2nd? Creating a restaurant to equal his.

More on the event after I get some sleep.

Thomas Keller at Free Library

Thomas Keller and Michael Ruhlman are coming on Monday to the Free Library in Philadelphia. Don't be a moron, get your tics!

On Saucing Pasta

When you've got a really rich, great pasta, you want to sauce it minimally. A very accomplished chef, who has worked at America's most prestigous kitchens (Ducasse, Per Se, The French Laundry, Charlie Trotter's, etc and is now at Rae in Philadelphia) and just left Lacroix a few months ago, told me that Thomas Keller simply sauces his pasta with beurre monte, a simple water and butter emulsion. He on the other hand, like Ducasse, sauces his with creme fraiche. Butter is more of a straightforward flavor, whereas creme fraiche adds some seasoning. In addition to being creamy, creme fraiche adds a slightly acidic taste, adding a flavor profile to your basic, buttery pasta dish. Similarly, this same chef adds lemon juice to his butter when butter poaching lobster. Oftentimes we neglect acid as a flavor enhancer.

Vetri's Pasta

I've talked many times about how much I like making pasta. The process is what I love most. Making the well of flour, then incorporating the eggs, and finally rolling out the dough- I feel like Nona, the only difference being that the flour used is far from my hair color.

There is nowhere better to get pasta in Philadelphia (arguably the whole U.S.) than Vetri. The product is the result of a master who trained in a Bergamo kitchen, perfecting pasta with little old Italian ladies. Though I had worked at Osteria (Vetri's newer restaurant that uses the same recipe) I was never able to get a hold of Vetri's almost legendary pasta recipe-that is, until just recently when Vetri was featured in a Philadelphia Inquirer article.


Now I have a tried and true pasta recipe already, from the French Laundry Cookbook, so I was eager to see how Vetri's would stack up. Thomas Keller also trained in Italy, so I guess this is basically a war of little old Italian ladies, to see whose pasta is superior. Will Vetri's little old Italian lady bring home the W for Bergamo? Or will Thomas Keller's Nona represent for Piedmont? Let's find out!

Contrary to The French Laundry Version, which uses only AP flour, Vetri's recipe calls for semolina and 00 flour, both of which I had on hand. Vetri's recipes also requires 9 egg yolks. 9!!! That's a whole lotta yolk. I put all the ingredients in a paddle-fitted kitchen aid, and blended until they came together. The fact that this recipe uses a kitchen aid, as opposed to the well method kinda turned me off. I prefer getting my hands dirty. Basically I'm like a five year old. The Kitchen aid method was quicker though, and soon I began kneading the dough. Unlike Keller's recipe which calls for excessive kneading, and states that "you can't over knead this dough," Vetri's only calls for five minutes.

Vetri's dough is noticeably wetter and easier to work with. Keller's is rather tough. Both recipes call for some resting time, and then, you roll out.

After blanching in salted water, I tossed the pasta in the frying pan with some butter and some of the pasta water. Vetri's pasta is soooo (for loss of a better adjective) yummy. It gives a slight bite, it's not as tough and Keller's, and seems smoother. Though it contains a higher egg yolk to flour ratio than Keller's, it's not noticeably richer. It does seem smoother however.

So who will take home the Nona throwdown crown back to their little old, humble abodes, with salami hanging in the kitchen, and olives growing in the backyard, and truffles in the rice, and wild boar grazing in the distance? Vetri's Nona gets the slight edge. But don't worry, I still love you Tommy K (who by the way is coming to the Philadelphia free library soon)

A Great Restaurant

(yep that's me)

"How many restaurants in the city will serve you that" quoted one chef (yea take that Mrs. *** I started with a quote), "not many" I thought to myself, gazing down at the fermented black bean paste vinaigrette. I licked a spoon clean, savoring the salty, sweet, sour, and slightly bitter dressing, created by combining fermented black bean paste with lime and honey, among other ingredients. The question made me think about restaurants, and what determines their greatness.

We were in the process of determining what was to go in the salad for the night. Figs had been decided on- there was a surplus. I thought I was soooo smart when I voiced my idea of goat cheese, toasted walnuts, and balsamic vinaigrette to one of the chefs, yet received a verbal slap in the face when I was told something along the lines of "do you know how many restaurants in the city serve that" (obscenities removed for your reading pleasure)? What was I thinking? I had been thinking of a classic, no risk, sure to taste good combination. Was I an idiot? I was thinking far outside the lines of Lacroix's philosophy. People don't come to Lacroix for rare cooked tuna and wasabi mashed potatoes. They come for tuna carpaccio, sprinkled with Maldon sea salt and Chinese barbecue spice, topped with tangerine segments and fingerling potato chips, garnished with micro basil. Lacroix prides itself on ingenuity, not continuity.

(psst, I plated that)

Lacroix's greatness resides in its ability to wow you with new foods and flavor combinations, without forgoing importance of taste, whereas a bistro like Parc aims to wow you in its recreation of the classics. Both can be great, but they are in different realms of greatness. I would call Chipotle an incredible restaurant, but could I compare it to a restaurant with a completely different aim and philosophy? Absolutely not. Maybe all restaurants shouldn't be rated 1-30 on food by Zagat. Most restaurants aim for great food, yet there are definite sub-categories determining how they go about doing so. Can Qdoba really get a 17 while Le-Bec Fin gets a 27 (actual 2009 Zagat rankings)? Is their food even somewhat comparable. Both are great in their own sense (at least I think so, big greasy burritos, and roast rack of lamb both hit the spot at different times).

Ultimately, it seems restaurants become greater through improvement along the lines of its philosophy. Does that make sense? In other other words, whether it be wowing diners with flavors they won't get anywhere else, or impressing them with a perfectly crafted classic, it seems to all come down to refinement and delicacy, in performance, execution, and artisanship, or as Thomas Keller calls it, finesse.

Brioche

It was the weekend. I had time. What's a better way to spend time than baking bread? Picture it, gently kneading the dough while watching tv or listening to music, letting out stress and frustration when you get to punch it down, filling your house with the wonderful aroma of baking bread, and of course, don't forget eating it.

Once I had decided that I would be making bread, I was faced with the toughest question of them all; What type to bake! Images filled my head. To ease my decision I freestyled.



Ciabatta, Focaccia or Jewish Rye,
Which type of bread will I try?
Baguette, whole wheat or brioche,
Which type of bread do I love the most?

No Snoop Dogg, I do not want to be a part of your record label, thanks anyway. To make my decision, I resorted to my inner foodie spirituality. When there are tough decisions like this to be made, I do not ask WWJD, I ask WWKD (what would Keller do, Keller being Thomas Keller). Seeing as his only bread recipe in the French Laundry Cookbook is for brioche, brioche it would be.

Brioche is a rich buttery french bread, which is usually my bread of choice in restaurants. I had made it once before from the same cookbook with terrific results.


I mixed some yeast, flour, sugar, salt and eggs with my kitchenaid before slowly adding a very large amount of butter. It's okay though. As one famous, old, probably portly French chef said, "butter, butter, give me more butter!"
I let my KitchenAid do its thang then I proofed the bread for 3 hours. As soon as it had doubled in size, I took out my anger at my mom for making me do the dishes, by punching down my bread. I then set it in the fridge over night. I divvied up my dough then baked it in two loaf pans at 350 for about 40 minutes.
And Voila!

Wow! Baking bread at home is so easy, yet it produces fantastic results. I would even bake this just for the smell filling my house, not to say this bread didn't taste good though. This bread was really delicious. Light yet, rich and buttery at the same time. This is the ultimate grilled cheese bread.

I immediately froze one loaf, and dug into the other just as quickly, helplessly devouring half a loaf before my family could get in on the action.

Why buy Febreeze when you can bake bread instead?

Oh yea, and if you want a more detailed post about the same brioche, check out this link at French Laundry at Home.

Chilled Pea Soup and Chicken with Mashed Taters

After reading tons and tons of restaurant blog reviews, I've learned one thing about mashed potatoes; Joel Robuchon is king. This dude is a French chef, now with a bundle of restaurants here in America, who's regarded as one of the best of our time. Possibly the only consensus food bloggers can reach, is that Joel Robuchon's mashed potatoes are the hands down best. I was therefore quite excited when one of the cooks at Lacroix told me that he knew how to make Robuchon's mashed potatoes, and proceeded to tell me how. He said however, that Thomas Keller's mashed potatoes were just as good. Since I had Keller's recipe on paper, I decided to make his. Oh and as for the pea soup, I had made a similar soup at Lacroix a few times and wanted to try it at home.
First I blanched then shocked my market fresh peas. Then I grabbed some basil and mint from my garden, and did the same. I pureed my peas with the mint and basil along with some ice and water. I then drizzled in some cream and made sure it was properly seasoned. I passed the soup through a sieve then let it chill.
Meanwhile, I roasted a chicken, then carved it as best I could. I broke the carcass into a few pieces then browned it in a heavy skillet. I added some butter and garlic and browned the garlic before adding some chicken stock and reducing that to a glaze. I added more chicken stock and reduced that to a suitable consistency.
While that was going on, I gently boiled my Yukon gold potatoes until they were tender. I drained off the water and returned them to the pan for a minute over high heat to remove excess moisture. I removed them, peeled them, then passed them through a strainer. I then put them in a saucepan and heated gently while I added large amounts of butter and cream (I don't think it's a secret why they taste so good).
First I served the pea soup. I crumbled some bacon, then put it in the bowl, while I poured the soup tableside (talk about service). For the mashed potatoes, I put a dollop of mashed potatoes, topped that with a chicken leg, then spooned some sauce over top.
The verdict: Pea soup was good, nothing spectacular. Texture was a little off, I'll strain it more next time. The mashed potatoes were phenomenal, I couldn't stop eating. Be wary though, consumption of those fat bombs requires extended periods of exercise shortly after. The sauce was delicious, and went very well with the chicken and the taters, and of course the chicken was great with the mashed potatoes, are you kidding?

Roast Chicken

That's what it looks like after I get my hands on a good roast chicken.

Roast chicken is one of my favorites and it can be sooooo simple too.

Listen, to this, go to this website and make the roast chicken. It is originally from the Bouchon cookbook, by Thomas Keller and is the simplest, most delicious roast chicken I have ever had. If you really want to impress a dinner party, you might consider brining the chicken the night before to make it extra juicy.

Best Meal of My Life

Hello reader, would you like to know what I just spent six months of saved allowance on? No, it wasn't the IPhone, nor was it an Xbox 360. If you've been reading my blog (especially the last post) it should come as no surprise to you that this money was gone in 4 and a half hours of pure bliss. Lunch at Per Se.

Why would I spend half of my yearly income on a restaurant? Well this is no ordinary restaurant (read more here). I would not even degrade my time at this restaurant to the title of a "meal." Experience is much more appropriate.

Ok a few notes before we begin, I'm hitting myself now for this, but I was not able to take pictures because I was unable to turn the flash off my borrowed camera. 2nd, I will not be including every course in my review, it's already past my bedtime. Now, check this out, "When you acknowledge, as you must, that there is no such thing as perfect food, only the idea of it, then the real purpose of striving toward perfection becomes clear: to make people happy. That's what cooking is all about." That's a quote from my hero, Thomas Keller (wow he's smart, and he's a chef), my English teacher would love him. It was indeed true, that my meal was not perfect, however the flaws that I describe to you deserve size 6 font, and had little effect on the overall experience (NOT MEAL). Keller's goal is to make people happy, and he has undoubtedly succeeded.

I waited impatiently as I stood behind a young couple on the escalator to the fourth floor of the AOL Time Warner Center. Per Se is, essentially in a shopping mall, however upon entering the grand room, dominated by muted browns, you are swept into a world away from the boutiques below. I tried, desperately, to surpress a grin as I walked through the sliding glass door, yet the childish glee welling up inside, got the best of me. My breath heavy, I greeted the hostess, and a waitor from my previous visit. No questions were asked about my reservation, and I was greeted by a flurry of "welcome back's" by the floor staff, as I was led to my table. The table presented a grand view, overlooking Columbus Circle, and the rest of the dining room, which would be useful if I was to spot any celebs (my waitress told me they had had Tom Brady come in a week ago).

Waiting at my table, was a letter. I tore it open, eager to examine its contents. It was a letter from Thomas Keller wishing me a wonderful afternoon full of special memories!!!! I was not poured champagne upon arrival, neither was I poured water. I was given some fancy Sparkling Cider! I met my waitress, Sandy, soon afterwards, and was told that rather than the regular 9 course meal, I would be prepared a 20 course feast! Can you imagine my excitement.

The meal started off playfully with Thomas Keller's signature salmon cornet. Keller got the idea for this while eating an ice cream cone in Baskin Robbins. The cornet is a tuile (kinda like a waifer), shaped like an ice cream cone, filled with creme fraiche and topped with salmon tartare. This course, served to every diner since Per Se's inception, is relavatory. With such a playful course to start, this fancy, high end restaurant becomes suddenly less pretensious.

The cornets are followed by Gruyere Cheese gougeres which are cheese puffs. No, no, no, I'm not talking about Cheetos (though the gougeres are "dangerously cheesy"), these present a much more refined "puff." A layer of light choux pastry juxtaposes a layer of rich, melting cheese. Give me more, please!

I thoroughly enjoyed a tumeric-scented eggplant soup, with toasted cardamom and icelandic yogurt. The eggplant soup, delicious on its own, was elevated to new heights with the addition of the slightly sour yogurt. Often a common reference point is necessary to understand something. Have you ever had blinis, caviar and creme fraiche? It being a classic combination, there is a good chance you have. I have too, and for this reason, I was able to determine that Keller's blini with creme fraiche and caviar, are far superior to all previous versions of the dish that I, or even you have ever had (don't argue with me, I'm right).

Now comes the part where you say, all literature has its conflict, or if you are a "Rock of Love" fan (TV show for you dinosaurs), every rose has its thorn. Such was true in the Butter Poached Lobster with kumquat confit, avocado puree, and citrus mousseline. The lobster was more rubbery than my liking, and the avocado puree seemed out of place. Another dish, called "Smoke," came to the table in an orb filled with smoke. The top was removed, allowing the smoky aroma to permeate my nostrils. The dish, sardine with a chickpea puree and pimenton oil, was rather bland, and other than the "wow" factor, the smoke contributed nothing to the finished dish.

On a lighter note, perhaps the measure of a great chef is not what he can do with luxury ingredients, but how he can transform lesser ones, as was displayed in the salad of Hawaiian hearts of palm with carmelized bananas and curry-banyuls vinegar gastrique. Rather bland hearts of palm were brought into realms of excellence. The sharp gastrique picked them up, adding unique and unexpected flavors of sweet, sour, and spicy (sugar, vinegar, curry), that presented an intricate yet flavorful playoff of different tastes. Did I say a great chef transforms lesser ingredients from slime to sublime? Oh, well I guess it can't hurt if he can deal with luxury too. A foie gras (my favorite food) terrine with pistachio buter, a poached fig and toasted brioche was so wonderfully rich that rather than argue with them, I believe Keller should give foie gras protestors free samples of this stuff. Unlike most overly sweet foie gras courses, the fig lended a gentle sweetness, which did not overpower the delicate richness of the foie. The perfectly golden brioche came from the hand of Midas. In addition, seven salts (maldon, fleur de sel, sel gris, 2 red ones, and 2 infused with volcanic ash), were given for this course, and for future courses. Due to my unfortunate age, my waitress was not able to pour me the traditional sauternes with my foie gras. Instead I received a Gewurtziminer grape juice! (Which I totally forgot about because I was so immersed in eating my foie) Attention to detail is really what seperates Per Se from other restaurants.

One of cooking's greatest challenges is the perfection of simple food (trust me, I know). With such simple food, pristine ingredients are necessary, as was apparent in the following courses. Tataki of Wagyu Sirloin with edamame and scallion salad was simply raw slices of kobe beef (doused in soy sauce) with scallions and a few edamame. The beef was well marbled and silky and was complimented traditionally with the scallions. A dish of hand cut tagliatelle with black winter truffles was likely the standout of the night. The pasta was exceptionally rich (clearly because of the high ratio of egg yolks to flour), and provided more than just a vehicle for the robust, heavenly, truffle flavor.

Other standouts included a veal sweatbread, over a scrambled egg and truffle coulis. The scrambled egg was scrambled just until the curds began to form and lended itself beautifully to both the sweatbread and the truffle. The sweatbread was crispy and flavorful, without the off-putting texture commonly associated with offal. A dish entitled "Pork and Beans" was nowhere reminiscent of its canned namesake. It was composed of a 24 hour braised pork belly, and a cassoulet of pole beans with veal jus. The skin was infinitely crispy, while the meat remained tender. The veal jus connected the pork and the beans, creating one hell of a culinary combination.

Ok, now I must talk about the secret life of my sweet tooth. Ever seen that show on the food network, the secret life of...? Well this tooth right here deserves an episode. Sweets are guiltlessly devoured when no one is watching, and I have disappointed my mother on numerous occasions when she has left her fudge unattended. Anyway, I was quite excited to get my dessert! "Shirley Temple," my waitress told me that because I was underage, they would serve me this. It was ginger sherbet, grenadine "confetti," sour cherry bread pudding, and tonic water foam. This was presented on one of those one bite, mini chinese spoons and was delicious. I don't even know why it was good, but I took one bite and loved it. The best dessert of the night by far was a Per Se signature, "Coffee and Doughnuts," cinnamon sugared doughnuts with cappuccino semifreddo (almost ice cream). Let me say, Per Se could run Dunkin Donuts bankrupt with this. This comes to your table with one doughnut, and its hole, and the semifreddo in a coffee mug with foamed milk on top (it looks like a latte). It takes but a glance around the room, to see other diners experiencing the same awe, upon receiving this dish.

The service at Per Se, can simply be described as amazing. Every detail is accounted for, and you can be sure that your water, wine, or in my case sparkling cider glass will remain full. Your bread plate does not remain vacant for long and the check is brought before you must ask. The waitors are like transformers, changing their approach and formality to suit the guest (I witnessed this transformation by watching the tables around me). Most importantly, the overly pretensious mandate for high end waitors is nonexistant. I felt comfortable talking to my wonderful waitress Sandy, about well, anything.

How does this meal stack up against my other adventures in fine dining? Well remember, unlike my other adventures, this was no mere meal. This was an experience, putting my time at Per Se in a league of its own. Asking me to describe the pleasures experienced here is an unrealistic request, for this meal stretched to otherworldly boundaries. In a time dominated by fast food, quick fix meals and Sandra Lee, such a relavatory, four hour experience at Per Se seems like a savior in this era of shortcuts.

As the meal came to a close, sadness was inevitable. I struggled with my bursting stomach, pushing its limits in an attempt to savor every last bite. Finally, after all the desserts were presented, I was brought the check. $298.03 was the final bill. Now, you might think parting with that money was difficult, but I can't think of a better use for it then perhaps, spending it on Thomas Keller's Napa Valley Restaurant, The French Laundry. I even threw in a few extra bucks for the superb service. Afterwards I was taken back to the kitchen to meet the chef (Thomas Keller was not there). In the kitchen, certain reminders, and motivators for the chefs are posted on the walls. Below the clock, a label reads "Sense of Urgency," in a walkway, the Michelin 3 star award is posted, most notably, above the door to the dining room a sign says "Finesse- Refinement and delicacy, in performance, execution, and artisanship." I was led out of the kitchen and to the door, but before I left, I was presented with a signed menu, a box of chocolate truffles, chocolates and other goodies, and a signed French Laundry cookbook which is a 50 DOLLAR COOKBOOK! They told me that "Thomas thought you should have a signed copy." I left still brimming in the excitement of the experience. As soon as I walked out I paused to see what Thomas had written. Scribbled in big letters, on the title page was "It's all about finesse," and you can believe me, those words will not be easily forgotten.

Excited!

Considering this week was spring break for me, and that I was skiing with the family, I had few chances to post on my blog. That said, you can be sure that a big post will be coming up shortly. How can I make such a guarantee? Tomorrow I'm going to Per Se. Yes, the famed famed temple of Thomas Keller, where a single meal is guaranteed to set you back $275. 39 days ago I wrote this post and now the eve of my lunch at Per Se has arrived. My sleep will be scarce tonight. Anyway, I'm bringing my camera of course, and you can expect an account of the meal by Monday. The last time I got this excited was the night before my last meal at Per Se. Well Ok! Wish me luck!

Gnocchi

Yep, it's that time of the week. My favorite and least favorite day of the week is here yet again, and that means I'm cooking. Generally, Sundays are lazy days without much going on, and the food I like to cook on Sundays reflects that. I don't feel like doing real messy food with tons of things on the plate, I just want a simple, straightforward approach to great food. A braise is the perfect meal for a Sunday in Winter; the aroma permeates the house, and the warm flavorful meat brings the family together (yea call me Martha Stewart), however getting up at 3 does not allow much time for such a project. Instead I decided to make some much less time consuming Potato Gnocchi.

Nyucky? Nyoky? I really don't know, but I don't want to hear yucky in something that I'm making, so I pronounce the latter. Anyway, Gnocchi are something that I've been making for a long time. I pride myself in my gnocchi, rather, I pride myself in executing Thomas Keller's gnocchi. With roots in Italian simplicity, it seems wrong to serve them with more than a few other ingredients. I didn't really plan what I was going to do with them beforehand. A sprinkling of good parmesan would be enough.

See that? That's my baby. Isn't she beautiful? I want my kid to look like this. This wooden cutting board was passed down from my great-grandmother, to my grandmother to me (not to my mom, she would have never used it) and I love it. No one touches this but me. It is one of the few things I will willingly clean, and I only use it for pasta and gnocchi, because that is what my great grandmother used it for (call her old reliable). It is quite difficult to clean, but I guess all babies have their ups and downs.

Ok, back to the dish. I baked my potatoes then peeled them and passed them through a strainer. I made a well in the center then added egg yolks and flour then "chopped" them into the flower. When this mixture came together I rolled it into a ball, then pulled off small sections and covered them with flour then rolled them into a snake. I cut 3/4 inch pieces then blanched them in boiling salted water.

After I blanched them, I took the ones that I wasn't going to use and put them in well sealed plastic bags to freeze them. When frozen, no defrostation (is that a word?) is necessary, just toss them in your pan heated with some oil till golden brown.This is great for the time crunched mom hint hint.

I put the gnocchi that I didn't freeze, in a hot pan with olive oil until they were golden brown. Afterwards I just tossed them with some parmesan and some julienned ham. "Parmesan and julienned ham!? That's all?" you might say. "Damn right," I might say, and the conversation would end awkwardly, until you tasted it for yourself, and discovered the elegant simplicity that is gnocchi. You will never call them Nyucky again.