What to write
about such a restaurant as Per Se? After a devastating blow from one of the
most influential food critics in the world, is there any redemption for Thomas
Keller’s East Coast powerhouse? He is currently the only chef in the United
States to hold two separate three Michelin starred establishments. Per Se,
after being bumped down from four starts to two by the New York Times somehow,
to the surprise of many, held on to that coveted third Michelin star. And all
of a sudden I’m thinking a lot more about politics than I am about what makes
an exceptional fine dining establishment. Let’s see.
Is it bad, or is
it good? Not as easy of a question to answer as I had thought. Things are
missing. Mistakes were made. Some of what Mr. Wells wrote is absolutely true.
It is, without a doubt, too expensive. The idea of multiple “supplements” on
top of an already exorbitantly priced meal is excessive and a bit insulting.
$125.00 extra for the Hand-Cut Tagliatelle dish? Sure you shower on the
truffles for an excessively long time. It’s the principal that bothers me. For one of the most
expensive base prices in the country, you can’t at least throw in the Foie Gras
dish? The local pubs down the street in Tennessee are serving beautiful plates
of the fattened liver these days. While still a coveted ingredient, it’s hardly
a rarity anymore. I expect a tad bit more to be “included” with my meal. I can
drive three minutes from my house and spend seven dollars on beautiful,
succulent pulled pork smoked for 12 hours, slathered on a baked potato, covered
with fantastic condiments. It’s delicious and full of rich, beautiful flavor.
But here, at Per Se, I have to pay yet another 30 dollars for this dish?
Please, at least tell me why.
But that view
though. Incredible. Per Se sits atop the Time Warner Center on Columbus Circle,
overlooking Central Park. It’s the most expensive zip code in the state. What
does rent cost at Per Se? Are they making a killing? Barely getting by? There
is no doubt that operational costs are through the roof. Sushi extraordinaire Masa,
the most expensive restaurant in the country, is right next-door and doesn’t
offer the view. But at the end of the day, it’s just a city. And isn’t the
Thomas Keller food empire supposed to be more about finding and sourcing the
best ingredients possible? Why then is the view what people remember when they
leave?
The dining room is
elegant and beguiling. The view does take my breath as I’m shown to my pre-set
table for one. No one comes to remove the second person’s cover plates because
they weren’t there in the first place. Those kinds of things don’t happen in a
restaurant of this caliber. Minimal disruption is critical, the wait staff slip
through the dining room like a well-rehearsed musical. They are well versed,
good at their jobs, “professionals” for lack of a better word. But the wrong spoon comes. And I
remember that I kind of like the mistakes. How we deal with them is more
important than the act of making one. I want some humanity (and therefore
humility) in my dining experience. Sending me a caviar spoon for a soup course
is an obvious error. It’s tiny, but it happens and is fixed with poise and an unnecessary
apology isn’t wasted.
A complimentary
glass of champagne precedes my “Don Lockwood” (Bowmore 12 year, Bulleit Bourbon
10, and Maple Syrup). These refined cocktails represent the intense focus of
the dining and beverage program. This is not just another whiskey mixed drink.
Time has been spent here. This cocktail has gone around to the Chef’s and the
Sommeliers and the wait staff. It’s been critiqued, survived the cut and it
shows just how much attention can be paid to something seemingly insignificant
at many establishments. The flavors progress vividly through each sip as the
monstrous block of ice slowly melts.
I’m excited to try
the famous Salmon Cornet, a dish that has made its way from the West coast as a
welcoming amuse-bouche. It’s quite a bit more flavorful than I expected. It’s
actually really damn good. A petit salmon tartar sits atop a chive crème fraiche
“ice cream cone.” It explodes with flavor. My meal progresses through a savory
display of elegantly plated delights. It seems to never stop, dish after dish.
A stunning Hen Egg Custard with (complimentary) Black Winter Truffles is one
the greatest on the menu. The Steelhead Trout Confit with Huile D’ Olive is one
of the greatest bites of my life. The “Bread and Butter” course is simple yet
exquisite. The rabbit is delicious, but for some reason, the Elysian Fields
Farm Lamb is boring and basic. It’s bland and flavorless and has no place on
this otherwise delicious menu. I’ve had better lamb from street-side food carts
at 3 in the morning. How does it survive and stay as a proud offer?
The 15 or so
courses are way too much food. The dessert offering is excessive and borderline
sickening. A plethora of sweets litter the table. Cheesecake, sweet tea ice
cream (fabulous), almond praline mousse, dounut with dessert coffee, candies,
chocolates, it goes on and on and on. Something really needs to leave the menu.
If I’m paying this much for a meal, you better believe I’m eating every last
thing on the table. I spent the rest of the day in bed, hardly able to move.
It’s all too good, but balanced? Not at all, not in these later steps.
The kitchen is the
cleanest I’ve ever seen. I would happily eat off of the floor. A live stream to
the French Laundry kitchen is, well, really cool to see. I’m hoping he’s there to wave at me, but
no such luck. The wine cellar is so impressive and well kept, I almost asked
for a job. Despite what I’ve heard about Per Se’s reputation, everyone seems
humble, welcoming, and happy to work in such a beautiful place. There is some
ironing to do here. Things are out of place. The bathroom needed cleaning. Some
communication issues need to be worked on. But overall, I can’t help but disagree
on some of his points. This is still one of the great dining experiences in the
United States. It makes me look even more forward to my trip to Yountville to
visit the flagship of Chef Keller’s dining empire. It isn’t where it needs to
be: it is too expensive, it is too much food. But it’s also charming, humble,
and endearing.
But I remain
conflicted. I very much view Thomas Keller as the quintessential embodiment of
“Farm to Table.” Everything about him screams intense focus on sourcing the
finest ingredients possible. As I leave, I’m given a whole book devoted to the
purveyors and farmers that make such a meal possible. Yet nothing about this
restaurant says anything about farming and sourcing. The French Laundry sits at
the foothills of the beautiful Napa valley. They have a beautifully impressive garden;
nature seems to overflow the exquisite setting. And Per Se…well, is in a mall.
It’s in a shopping mall in the middle of one of the busiest street corners in
the country. And while effort is very obvious, it makes me wonder if the entire
concept is flawed from the very beginning or not. This restaurant feels so
incredibly out of place. It screams to be sitting in the middle of some farm a
few hours away from here, a destination restaurant. It’s the same way I felt
about Blue Hill in Manhattan. It doesn’t belong. It’s mission is too good to be
stuck where it is. So why is it here? Is the chase of accolade from a tire
company more important than holding true to deep-rooted values? Or does Per Se
show that we can have something amazing anywhere we go? Unfortunately, I’m left
conflicted and without an answer.
No comments:
Post a Comment