“Perfection is an ideal. I would never want to think that there was perfection in cuisine because it would end the drive.”
Last night, J and I had New Year’s Eve dinner at The French Laundry. It was not my first time eating there. I had been once before. In the summer of 2007. Although the food and the service were fantastic that time, the total experience had not been because of an annoying group of diners seated next to my table. They spent the whole dinner talking about their possessions. It was a large group and as they got drunker—which you inevitably do over a four-hour meal—they got louder and more obnoxious. The French Laundry is a small, two-story townhouse. Tables are very close together, so I was practically seated with them. Social commentary is not the point of this blog, so I am not going to dwell on this, but I will say it left a bad taste in my mouth about TFL. Something I was not able to get over, until last night.
I’ve been to Thomas Keller’s Per Se, many times. It sounds snotty to say given the price of a meal there. But I am very lucky to be able to. The food is amazing. The service is amazing. The setting is amazing. The space is larger than TFL. The tables are more spaced out. The ceiling is twice as high. It’s virtually impossible to hear obnoxious conversations, if anyone is having any.
I love Per Se. It is my favorite restaurant in the world. I appreciate Thomas Keller’s attention to detail. His love of rich flavors. His celebration of beauty in food. And his classical style, which holds all these elements together. Once, at a birthday party at Per Se, I was about to ask the server if it would be possible for my party to see the kitchen. I was only able to say, “I was wondering if it was possible...” Then something caught in my throat and I paused. Before I could finish, the server smiled and without skipping a beat said, “Anything is possible.”
And that’s kind of what it’s like to eat at Per Se. A dream world of food. It’s my sophisticated Disney World for eating.
But The French Laundry was not the Disneyland to Per Se’s Disney World. At least not until last night.
Okay, so all that has changed. What a f******* amazing meal. What a fantastic experience. This time J and I sat downstairs, and although we had a few tables around us, nobody was obnoxious! Thanks for picking and choosing your New Year’s Eve guests, Thomas! Excellent from the first canapé (which was a gougère) to the last mignardise, which may have been a peanut butter chocolate truffle, but after all that wonderful, beautiful food and all that wine, I can’t remember.
What I do remember is feeling happy and satisfied on the ride back to the hotel. Is it crazy to be in love with food?
Ten to fifteen years ago, The French Laundry was the be-all-end-all of restaurants in the U.S., perhaps even the world. In the past decade, a lot has changed on the food horizon. More playful restaurants that are less obviously tied to classical styling have created a cuisine that takes food to another level…almost like making it into abstract art (El Bulli, Alinea, The Fat Duck). Tastes change and critics move on to other things, but let me tell you, Thomas Keller, on either coast, is still the best in the U.S. And, perhaps, the world…
A thought to explore in future posts!
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I’m still trying to work out the format for this blog, so at first I’m going to try and keep entries to 500 words or so and not get to into the weeds when describing food. That might change, but for now I am going to see what happens. Below I include last night’s TFL New Year’s Eve menu as well as some choice photos of edible perfection.
Cheers!
A
P.S. I recommend Michael Ruhlman’s book, The Soul of a Chef, which I quote at the start of this post. It’s a great approachable examination of three American chefs, including Michael Symon in Cleveland and Thomas Keller. Mr. Symon will be the subject of a future post!
Hokkaido Coast Sea Urchin, Degustation of Petite Onions, Potato Blini, Radishes, Garden Herbs and Kendall Farm Creme Fraiche