Located, rather oddly, in a soccer stadium, Rasmus Kofoed's hyper-modern and thoroughly Scandanavian Geranium is a precisely-engineered experience that is easy to love.
Heston Blumenthal occupies a quasi-mythic status in the fine dining world, so let's start with that. His Big Idea is to recast fine dining as an experience in storytelling rather than eating, but not in a boring, let-me-tell-you-where-the-chef-found-this-particular-lobster kind of way. More like a multisensory memory walkthrough from childhood, with lots half-serious yet artful emulations of Alice in Wonderland to boot. While charming, be prepared for lots of instruction, long anecdotes, and windy explanations recited like memorized lines as well as service staff might be expected to recite. Some of those lines are charming. Some are teeth-grindingly awkward. Also expect an extremely leisurely pace; we clocked in at over 4.5 hours.
As you approach his building, you confront a prominent bronze plaque emblazoned on the outside. This is Heston Blumenthal's coat of arms, so to speak, representing the senses—lavender for smell, a lyre for hearing, apple for taste, a hand for touch, etc. Quite tellingly, the motto at the bottom reads, "Question Everything."
Returning from their successful stage in Melbourne, Heston Blumenthal's Fat Duck immediately regained its 3-star status in the 2017 Michelin guidebook. Since not much of the equation that has made them so famous hass changed, it's unsurprising that they should be immediately welcomed back. I would group The Fat Duck alongside Bo Innovation in Hong Kong and Alinea in Chicago as, without question, the three most creative and showmanship-oriented 3-star restaurants in the entire world. Years ago, Heston publicly disavowed the term "molecular gastronomy" in favor of his preferred nomenclature, "modernism." However described, after spending an evening at his restaurant he in inarguably taking fine dining in a new and much more engaging direction.
PRICE PAID: $410PP (INCL. WATER, TAX, TIP- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
The interior decoration of this building was really something to behold... "Whimsical" doesn't even come close. Each room has a light cannon sitting the table above that modifies the color of illumination based on what course is being served. As we first enter, you can see in the photos above that everything is quite red, representing sunset on the day before our journey. More to come on that in a sec.
A map is brought over to our table and unfolded with great drama. We are told at enormous, ponderous length that this map is a map of our journey to come. Broken up into chapters like a book, and with teeny-tiny course descriptions underneath for those actually interested in what they would be eating. A great deal of care and craftsmanship went into creating this map, and I daresay it looks incredible. "As you look at this map, can you imagine how your journey will unfold?" We are asked, somewhat open-endedly. Heston's staff needs to work on how much they talk down to patrons who are clearly meant to be absolutely and completely fucking aghast at how amazing this is. It's pretty great, don't get me wrong. But it's not quite as amazing as they think I should feel.
Next, up rolls a charming liquid-nitrogen aperitifs cart. The options for frozen-solid drinks included:
- Paloma with tequila
- Vodka sour with lime
- Campari soda
- Piña colada
I went with the Piña colada. Sorry for the red light effect, it was shining pretty strongly at this point. 8/10.
This next morsel, designed to accompany the aperitif as a two-part dish titled titled "A Change-of-air," was a macaron of beetroot with spicy horseradish cream. Super light, spicy, and airy. The freeze-dried beet texture is particularly excellent. Crispy and delightful pairing of flavors. 8/10.
Another charming yet lengthy story opens this course. This time, the server regales us with the stresses of traveling all the way to Cornwall: kids in the backseat whining, car trouble, missed directions, etc. The first drink one's parents would want after such an experience, we are told, is a G&T. This dish is basically a deconstructed version, with lots of hot and cold, green wheatgrassy flavored broth, and a touch of gin ice cream in the middle brings everything together perfectly. 9/10.
Moving on to "chapter 2" of the menu, "breakfast"—some tea which is hot and cold at the same time. It's really a mid-blowing effect, but despite appearing to have a homogenous constitution, this beverage is quite viscous and feels like two opposing flavors at once. 8/10.
The next course was, hands down, one of the most interesting and fully-executed ideas I have ever come across in fine dining. Six shrink-wrapped mini-cereals fashioned in the fake-brands of Heston Blumenthal's imaginary journey, each complete with cover art, nutritional information, and actual cereal.
Included in each box were precision-cut puzzle pieces that could be fashioned into a coin-holder. Referring back to a survey I answered before attending the meal, the restaurant had decorated one of the pieces with the likenesses of my two dogs. Totally charming. 10/10 just for the creativity alone.
The milk curd and cereal were excellent; like those last sugary bites at the end of the bowl that you remember from when you were a kid. 10/10.
The next dish—"Sound of the Sea"—is precipitated by a seashell with headphones. Pumping out the ear buds is a relaxation-CD style sound of ocean waves, brought to you by the iPod shuffle seen on the right.
The meal itself is served on a "plate" with a drop shadow of sand. On top of the glass surface are Yellowtail, mackerel, vegetable stock foam, octopus, and coriander seed. 10/10, zingy-fresh and a delightfully constructed dish.
Next, a "rocket" and "twister" ice cream bars; I suspect those brands mean more to UK residents than to this American. The rocket is Waldorf salad. On the right is salmon smoked jasmine tea, horseradish avocado mousse. Avocado and smoked salmon is strongly flavored. Maybe too strongly flavored; it overpowers the delicateness of the Waldorf rocket pop. 7/10.
As a follow-up, we are brought small cones of crab ice cream with passion fruit and a chocolate stick. The incredibly rich crab pairs perfectly with the sweet, tropical passion fruit tones. 9/10.
The trick of this next dish is the "Melting crab" served with caviar. As the broth is poured over, the "skin" of the crab melts away, just as the skittish sea creatures one might try to capture disappear beneath the waves. Caviar and tiny pieces of Cornish crab remain, along with golden trout roe. The underlying sauce is made from white chocolate and seaweed, giving it a Very Very Rich profile. 8/10, if only because it's too ungodly rich.
An enormous biodome-like container arrived next on our table, along with a very long story about hiking through the forest. We are asked to reminisce about the smell of the forest just after rain.
The server poured liquid in, and immediately strong after-rain smells/smoke poured out of forest diorama.
The biodome is removed, and the dish itself looks like a forest floor, even down to the little grubs. Beets. Earthy, rich, granules of dirt. Made with fig leaf, meadowsweet, melilot, oakmoss, and of course black truffle. 8/10.
We then got to a rather confusing part of the meal titled "... We Discovered the Mock Turtle Picnic." First, we were presented with a small and somewhat depressing brochure on the story of Mock Turtles, that is the faux-turtle protein made of veal.
This next course got a little complicated, so please excuse the panoply of pictures. First, we were brought clear glass pots of "Tea," which had a hot veal consommé. Then, a small jewelry case with gold clocks, and each with tiny paper anchors like a tea bag would have.
The clock melts, revealing tiny cubes of ham. the gold portions break apart, further enriching the soup.
... The resulting mixture, stirred together and served hot, was rich, warm, beautiful. 9/10.
... The mock turtle tea was followed up with a simple, incredibly tasty toast sandwich. The amazing part about the sandwich was the hard-toasted bread layer in the middle; it was dense and crispy, contrasting beautifully with the soft layers around it. I truly loved this course. 10/10.
At this point in the meal, we took a break from the action for a kitchen visit. Chefs from all over the world were busy plating some of the delicacies we had just enjoyed; I even witnessed a member of staff sound-check every single conch shell with ocean wave recording before it left the kitchen. An impressive dedication to quality.
When we returned to our seats, we were presented with another menu as though we had arrived at a new, utterly separate restaurant, complete with new art, style, and typography (Heston employs a font expert to develop these experience-within-the-experience touches, so as to best evoke memories of childhood). Along with the new menu, we are brought bread and butter and told, once again a bit too theatrically, "Welcome to the restaurant."
The "appetizer course" is brought out first; a beautifully-plated scallop dish with black truffle and King Oyster mushrooms. The interplay of colors is beautiful, but this dish is way, way too salty. 6/10.
And now on to the "true" main course, titled "Alows of Beef." A thick, salty slab of Wagyu beef is accompanied by some hearty slices of grilled onions, lettuce, and mushrooms.
To the side, some crispy red radicchio salad. 8/10.
This next dish is flavored like the famous "Botrytis," or Noble rot, often found in fine white wines. This is accomplished through some sugary preserved fruit jellies as well as fizzy pop rocks that explode upon contact with your mouth. A neat dish; the full emulation of the noble rot flavor is impressive. 8/10.
Lastly, as a "digestif" to this mini-menu, we are brought a framed map of Scotland with some candied Whisky gels, titled "Whisky gums." The gels themselves taste exactly like the whiskies originating from that part of the country. The Islay Scotch, for example, reveals the word "Laphroaig" upon removal, and sure enough has the distinctively peaty, sea-salty flavors of Laphroaig.
This next course was, not kidding, presented on a floating pillow... Suspended with a jet of air, it appeared to sit in space as if by magic.
Imbued with baby powder, the spoons we are handed have fur handles to enhance the sensory experience of comfortable sleep. The ice cream is made from tonka, milk, meringue, crystallized white chocolate, and pistachio. 9/10.
"A visit to the sweet shop," likely the high point of Blumenthal's showmanship, is the final course. Designed and built custom for the restaurant at a cost of around £150,000 you insert the coin that you received during the cereal course into the side of the machine and all sorts of acrobatics ensue. It's impossible to describe articulately, so check out the video:
The output is a placed in a custom-printed sweet shop bag, which you get to take home with you full of delicious petit fours. A creative and beautifully presented final gift. 9/10.
A big part of why I love this project is that every now and then, I'm lucky enough to have an experience that goes beyond a fantastic meal or an incredible afternoon or a perfect evening. Sometimes, when the stars align, I wind up with a truly transformative, once-in-a-lifetime impression that leaves me thinking about the place I've visited for days, or even weeks. Thomas Buehner's La Vie is such a place.
Having spent time working under Harold Wolfahrt at Schwarzwaldstube in the Black Forest as well as Kevin Fehling at The Table, Thomas struck out on his own in 2006. He ventured to Osnabrück, which is gorgeous but by Thomas' admission a touch out of the way. "Like gardening in the desert," was his characterization, and I found the incredible performance of his restaurant all the more impressive for its distance from any major city.
I found Thomas' style very unique—complex, with lots of considered groupings of flavors and textures, intense preparation and knifework, artistic presentation, and an atmosphere of comfort and playfulness that I find sorely lacking in the Michelin 3-star world. This restaurant is truly one of the, if not the, best 3-star I have been to. Period.
PRICE PAID: $440PP (INCL. WATER, TAX, AND INCREDIBLE WINE)
FINAL SCORE: 10/10
Off a tiny street in classically beautiful Osnabrück, Germany, is the unassuming entrance to La Vie. Osnabrück itself is worth a day's visit—though it was largely destroyed during World War 2, it has been exquisitely restored to its medieval architectural roots and hosts a pretty exceptional Christmas Market in December.
The interior space at La Vie is comfortable, and strikes a great balance between formal and welcoming. The palette is neutral with high points of color that draw the eye; the blood-red centerpieces that subtly match the painting behind, for example. The linens were crisp and beautifully set; there was an effortless stylishness to the place that drew me in. The well-spaced-out dining room for around 30 people contrasts strongly with the submarine-like density of the kitchen, which we visited later in the meal.
... two half-coins of "goose liver cake" served alongside. The goose liver is very rich and delicate; presented on an interesting platform; it looks and feels like tea crackers made of foie gras. Soft and exquisite. A fantastic start. 9/10.
Salted French butter, Spanish olive oil, and some extraordinarily hearty German bread with a thick-crusted rind arrive. I'm a huge fan of bread, and this is a pretty excellent pan-European presentation. 9/10.
Another appetizer appears in the divot of a small plate; goat's cheese appetizer with milk bread cloth covering overtop. Strong, farm-like flavors go perfectly with the crunchy flake of milk bread. A lovely starter. 9/10.
This is probably the right juncture to mention what can only be described as the most amazingly-priced wine list for exotic, fine wines in (likely) the entire world. I am absolutely not kidding. Let me humor you with specifics:
- Chateau Latour 1992; average winesearcher.com average price: $449. La Vie price: €225.
- Domaine de la Romanee-Conti La Tache 1991; winesearcher.com: $3,426. La Vie: €1,750.
- Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1986; winesearcher.com: $1,315. La Vie: €640. And on, and on.
Especially if you take into account that, as of the time of this writing, the Euro is approaching parity with the dollar, you'll hopefully agree that classic/ancient wines like these can't be had for comparable prices in any wine store in the world, to say nothing of a restaurant where markups are typically 100%. I would return to this restaurant just for the wine list, ignoring for a moment the fantastic food and service.
Next, some king crab with salsify sliced perfectly to look like fish skin. The warm broth has dollops of chive oil, which gives it an herbal and almost spicy note. Salsify is an excellent choice to accompany—from the dandelion family, salsify has a vaguely oyster-like taste that supports the seafood flavors in the dish. 9/10, beautiful presentation and colors with lots of intense knifework. Service had their chance to participate as well, with one of many beautiful pourovers. I created a video montage of their best such dishes on the right.
Mackerel, pickled and flambéed, is served with "snow" of kefir and a corn beer from Peru called Chicha poured-over tableside. The mackerel is still warm from its recent flame-bath, and the snow and beer (which has a delicious chipotle flavor from the spices the kitchen adds in) are quite cold, yielding a fun temperature differential. Bits of blackened roasted corn are placed throughout for texture, as well as to enhance the South American feel to this dish. The mackerel has a very soft texture and the fresh, oily flavor typical of the fish. 10/10.
What I'm really enjoying about Buehner's style at this moment is that, though complex, each part of the dish has a role to play, and nothing feels extraneous. Mackerel, with its strong flavors, is never an easy fish to pair with, but it's handled beautifully in this dish.
Next, a delightfully bright dish of Red Gamba (a type of prawn), served with sunflower seeds and lots of assorted roots, fruits, and flowers. The prawn is smoky, mesquite-flavored almost. It's super fresh, and the rice on bottom gives this dish a hearty feel. The fruits are crisp, bright, and beautiful. Though the flavors aren't what you expect on first glance, there's nothing I would change about this dish. 10/10.
Next, series of dishes titled "A Touch of Autumn."
First, a gorgeous, fresh salad with radish, lettuce, white strawberry, citrus, and fig, all beautifully though perhaps excessively sliced. Each ingredient is impossibly fresh for December in Germany, which makes the ensemble all the more impressive. 9/10.
This next dish, presented under a layer of mint leaves and flowers, was strongly driven by the white garlic and mushroom components; very strongly scented. Equally strong (almost felt like Vicks Vapo on the nose, in a good way) were the mint leaves themselves, which gave the dish an interesting balance. On bottom was an excellent, hearty broth; almost like a beef or red wine reduction. Another fascinating combination of flavors and textures. 9/10.
Next, some Imperial Caviar (AKA "Golden Osetra"), the rarest type of caviar sourced only from albino or white sturgeon, and prized for its golden tint and earthy, nutty, champagne-like flavors. To the side, a lovely thick ragout of sweet potato and chestnut mixed with squid fond that pairs nearly perfectly with the eggs. A truly, almost excessively, luxurious dish. 9/10.
An interesting take on this rich poultry dish. The chef describes the preparation as "Étouffée," a cajun/Creole style usually involving shellfish served over rice, this pigeon tastes like an otherwordly-amazing combo of chicken and bacon together, so it's basically perfect. Not too salty, perfectly cooked, temperature is presented just right. 10/10.
A delightful bonus course; we are invited back to the kitchen for a passion fruit and Woodford Reserve cocktail. The chef introduces himself and proudly points out the extreme diversity of his large (15-ish people) staff, hailing from Asia, Europe, North America, etc; folks from all over the world who have come all the way to Osnabrück to learn. After seeing the amazing quality of what they're able to produce, I can't argue.
For the final savory course: a plate of absurdly well-marbled, masterfully-cooked Wagyu, Topinambur (also known as Jerusalem artichoke, or Earth's Apple), and an herb the menu describes as "sour portulak" (we would call it purslane). Further demonstrating his mastery of complex flavor pairings, the Jerusalem Artichoke is the perfect contrast to the beef, enhancing and enriching the flavor of the main without making it excessively buttery or rich. The coin-shaped portion of egg at the center of the dish enhances richness even further but takes it a bit far for my taste. 10/10.
The cheese course arrived next; some Phébus cheese from the Pyrenees mountains served with pine nut ice cream. Strong cheese flavors go perfectly with the savory pine nut ice cream and puffed barley that gives it a Honey Smacks-like flavor. 9/10.
The first dessert on the sweet side: pumpkin with yuzu and yogurt ice cream. The citrus elements of the yuzu blends with the gourd-y pumpkin flavors in perfect harmony. Yet another in what is a long list of creative, inventive pairings that don't necessarily sound great on paper, but are absolutely stunning in execution. Lots of careful knifework, as you can see—the pumpkin almost looks like it has been scrolled from its source. 9/10.
Next, check out the stunning colors in this gorgeous follow-on dessert of beetroot with, in the words of the menu, "a little bit of coconut." Spiced cookies and parsnip round the plate out a bit and serve as platform to display more gorgeous, colorful prep work. I feel like a broken record saying this, but beet and coconut don't seem like natural compatriots... except this dish proved to me that they totally are. The sweet earthiness of the coconut paired perfectly with the earthy-earthiness (yup, I meant to say that) of the beetroot. 10/10.
Lastly, a long series of final bites, each more artful than the last to conclude a meal as close to perfect as I could imagine. My favorite small chocolate bites (the ones with the faces) have five different Indian spices; the "Legos." are super bright and fruity white chocolate.
If you ever have he the chance to go here, don't hesitate. Just go.
Sven Elverfeld's Aqua resides inside the gorgeous Wolfsburg, Germany Ritz-Carlton hotel, itself in the shadow of an enormous Volkswagen factory. Surrounded by a beautifully choreographed waterscape, the restaurant feels like the centerpiece of a city-sized post-industrial artwork.
Aqua opened in 2000, scored its first Michelin star in 2002, its second in 2006, and its third in 2009, joining the now 10 (as of the 2017 book) other German 3-Michelin-starred restaurants. Of note, Aqua scored 19 points out of 20 with Gault Millau, the second-highest score possible. Also interesting: this is the only 3 Michelin star in the Ritz-Carlton chain.
Sven began his career as a pastry chef/chef de partie in various German restaurants like Humperdinck (now closed), Dieter Müller, and the Castle Johannisburg. It's worth mentioning that most other three-star chefs did not spend time on both the "sweet" and "savory" (i.e. pastry and hot/cold lines) of a kitchen as they trained up.
Sven started with Ritz-Carlton in 1998 right after achieving his state certification in gastronomy from the prestigious Hotel Management School in Heidelberg, Germany's largest and oldest service school. Sven joined the Ritz in Dubai, and then moved to Aqua to take over shortly thereafter. From his various interviews, it is clear that Sven enjoys simplicity, innovation, and the blending of French and German styles into something uniquely his.
PRICE PAID: $244PP (INCL. WATER, TAX, TIP- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
With perfect, idyllic views of the water below, Aqua looks and feels like an oversized dining room in a modern country club (meant in the nicest way possible). The tables are spaced out far in excess of what comfortable movement requires; my guess would be that they increase or decrease table settings for a given evening so as not to appear like they have empty tables. On the night we attended, the space felt about 75% booked, which gave it a nice, open, airy feel.
The restaurant describes this opening snack as caramelized Kalamata olives (six o'clock and nine o'clock on the plate) with white sugar leaf on top. At 12 and 3 o'clock, green olives with capers and smoked almond. The capers really drive the flavor; salty but milder overall than the super-saccharine'd black olives. The savory and the sweet go together fantastically, and the dish is a very nice opening statement about the meal itself. Having spent time training on both the sweet and savory side of the kitchen, Sven Elverfeld is giving a hint of what we'll see in the meal to come; bringing together the best of both worlds. 8/10.
Bread, with butter dishes charmingly released at once by the service in a nicely choreographed movement. Wish I took a video, but didn't, so imagine synchronized swimmers dropping off dairy. Salted brioche, soft and warm, small French breads. Totally delightful. 8/10.
Jimmy, the very nice restaurant manager, introduces himself with a handshake and asks about our menu choice. He's gregarious and kind, and that's basically the last we see of Jimmy, which is fine.
Along with the menu we are served some micro sliders with mountain cheese. The sliders have strong thousand island and onion flavors; imagine a really nice, expensive Big Mac and you've more or less got it. Deeper and more savory, less sweet and subtle than subtle previous course in every way, and I enjoy the contrast. 9/10.
Next, a fascinating take on Vitello Tonnato—an Italian dish of veal, capers, anchovies, parsley, and lemon. Their version is served tartare in a pretty half-sphere with some greens. The base also has some oil of arugula, which tastes like a really amazing melted salad. 8/10.
A delicious morsel of French Gillardeau oyster, served with artichoke and argan oil to give some depth. The plate itself looks a bit like mother-of-pearl; a nice design decision that goes nicely with the dish's theme. Super fresh, crunchy texture of freeze-dried vegetables pairs well, but there's a lot going on in a single bite here. 8/10.
Next, a "Stulle" sandwich— textures are dominated by the crunchy, thin bread and crispy shrimp from Büsum harbor; softer beef and crab round things out. Great combo of somewhat dissonant flavored proteins; the sauces on the side add a bit more richness for those inclined (not me; perfect without). 9/10.
This next dish is titled "Bouchot" mussels and rabbit leg. "Bouchot" is French for "shellfish bed," and refers to an aquaculture technique of growing mussels on ropes underwater near the seashore for easy harvesting and higher quality. The rich, meaty mussels pair perfectly with the saffron curry powder for a completely innovative East-West pairing. Rabbit leg within provides another land-sea contrast similar to the previous course. I loved the creativity and flavors of this dish. 10/10.
Next, Veal tongue "Berlin" (not sure where the "Berlin" title comes in; Berlin-style beef tongue usually includes capers, which this doesn't.) The super-cold veal on the left goes great with the foam poured overtop in the rightmost photo; overall a salty palate. The Cipolla Onion in the upper right stands out. A little rich for my blood, especially because of the goose liver slices. 6/10.
Next, a delightful Pigeon breast raised by the farm of Jean-Claude Miéral, a farmer known for his premium-branded French poultry. Elverfeld pair the super-soft bird (very creatively carved, by the way) with a small bed of couscous (upper left in the shape of a corn ear) that adds crunch. Lots of dashes of super-rich sauces fill in space around the plate. There's a lot going on here, and I really enjoy the artistic plating, but it feels a lot easier to look at than to eat. The sauces (if you choose to use them) add way, way too much richness to the delicate pigeon, and it's basically a texture overkill since the bird itself is already very tender and paired nicely with the couscous. The plate itself reminds me of rocks in a river, which is an interesting visual statement. 7/10.
I must be honest and say that I possess a deep character weakness for awesome cheese carts. Of the many incredible choices, I selected:
- Vacherin Mont d'Or, a seasonal soft cheese produced in Switzerland,
- Maroilles, a cheese developed in the 10th century in Northern France by a monk,
- Trou du Cru, an orange-rinded, alcohol-washed Burgundy cheese, and finally my favorite:
- Epoisses, a strongly-scented washed-rind cheese, also from Burgundy.
Another creative dessert, this one with some interesting cross-branding: Ruinart champagne made into sorbet; a touch bitter, and served in a the punt of one of its own bottles. Slightly raspberry, but mostly it tastes like champagne, which is awesome. 9/10.
Next, a crunchy, seasonal plate of "Quince & Grain;" lots of crunchy, freeze-dried components with a very soft, peach-like quince. There's a lot going on here: spruce sprouts, ginger, and lots of fruit beyond the quince itself. Sweet but restrained. 8/10.
Next, elderberry, peanut, and champagne, to harken back to two dishes ago. I love the creative stacking inside the glassware. 8/10.
Next, a very autumnal dessert; a Muscat pumpkin with cranberries, yogurt, and pumpkin oil at the base. The pumpkin flavors carry through really, really strongly; in fact, this dish tastes almost 100% like pumpkin. Not a bad thing; like a deconstructed slice of pumpkin pie. 8/10.
And, penultimately, a beetroot dessert made with half-cherries and Bolivian chocolate. The cherries and chocolate go together particularly well, and I especially admire the visual pairing of beets with cherries. Everything is pulled from the same corner of the color palette, with vastly different flavors. 10/10, a brilliant dish.
And, finally, the dessert cart is rolled near. Pralines of coconut, coffee, blueberry, and some tropical fruit bites finishes out the meal. Just awesome, a great capstone to a great meal. 9/10.
Putting this review together was a struggle, because there is absolutely no way I could fairly capture the stunning beauty of La Vague D'Or's surroundings at the all-encompassingly gorgeous Residences de la Pinede in St. Tropez, France. Offered aperitifs as we arrived poolside, I have to admit that I could have stayed in that exact spot for days. I haven't been to a more gorgeous spot in my life.
ST. TROPEZ, FRANCE
PRICE PAID: $301 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10
Run by one of the youngest chefs to achieve 3-star status Arnaud Donckele, La Vague D'Or attempts to capture the flavors of Provence in their style and presentation. This place perfectly nails the combination of Provençal ingredients in a Mediterranean setting.
We got the chance to meet Arnaud after the service; he speaks zero English, but was extremely friendly. The kitchen has a strangely long, narrow main corridor with the Pass and the Expo stationed at the very end of that corridor, the hot lines and cold cold lines next to each other on the far side. Lots of squeezing past each other and near-collisions, which seems odd. They didn't seem to let it get in the way of putting on an incredible service.
As we continued relaxing on the ungodly-beautiful pool terrace, a handful of small snacks made their way to the table. First, some olive stuffed with ham presented on the end of a stick. These olives practically burst with flavor, and the saltiness of the two main ingredients play well together. 8/10.
Next, a large and complex arrangement of tree, wire mesh, plastic box, and food were brought over to our table. I was anxious to hear the story behind this beautiful, if somewhat complex, presentation, but was told that it was just chosen because it looks nice. Throughout dinner, unfortunate serving staff could be seen hefting these enormous contraptions to diners' tables. An 8-top table required almost the entire staff to come together for the service. These things must weigh 50 or 60 pounds apiece. Hm.
Some foie gras with pine nut crust, also on the end of a stick. I'm getting an "offering from Nature" vibe here. Crunchy and rich, it tastes like someone made foie gras into a Twix bar. 8/10.
Next, presented on a square-ishly shaped flat spoon, some grapes from Provence with the seeds removed and replaced with almonds. The almonds were super crunchy and fresh, and they tasted almost perfect against the fresh grape. It worked for the same reasons that peanut butter and jelly work together. 9/10.
The next amuse-bouche was charmingly titled: "Company Bread;" the dark portions towards the bottom are a thin grilled-on slice of lard. Some really strong ham flavors that harkens back to the olive presentation. 9/10.
"Aubergine tempura" is crispy and crunchy, and it honestly tasted a lot like it looks... Fried eggplant. It feels a little like something you'd find at the Minnesota State Fair. Greasy and tasty. 7/10.
Calamari octopus, served with an octopus broth and tomato cracker. The cracker itself, laden with octopus, had tons and tons of flavor. The broth had a lemongrassy/Thai feel to it, which once again paired nicely. Lots of simple, enjoyable one-to-one flavor interplays at work so far. 8/10.
The last of the patio snacks—an oyster with a thick layer of Béarnaise sauce mixed with yuzu. The yuzu gives it a citrus flair, but the Béarnaise is super, turbo, offensively rich. 6/10.
Interestingly, it is only at this point that we are now handed menus to select our meals. I have to say that I'm not murderously stuffed but I am definitely feeling more full than I'd like to in order to begin a meal. I opt for the smaller of the two menus, titled "Timeless," 5 courses, at €270; the other set-price menu is called "An Epicurean Adventure," at €340 with cheese course and €315 without. They also offer a wine pairing for my menu at €120, and one for the Epicurean Adventure for €145. I was driving so chose against wine; my dining partner went for the full-boat menu with pairing (a bold move).
We get seated in a corner with gorgeous views of the patio, pool, and sunset. I cannot emphasize enough: this is The Most Beautiful Hotel Ever.
The dining room itself is a touch plain; lots of exposed wood and gentle curves, a bit of artwork and mirrors but otherwise not a ton of adornment.
Lovely hand-folded French country bread. Always a welcome start in my book. 8/10.
First up, a lovely dish of Amberjack, Spider Crab, and a sorbet made from tomalley, the green part of the lobster's insides (not something I had previously known one could/should eat). The rich-flavored sorbet really brings out the best of the vegetables, and as you can see the plating is pretty awesome. I love the geometry of this dish. 8/10.
The server describes this next dish colloquially as "Langoustine two ways;" the sauce is made from a Japanese citrus called Hassaku (about halfway between an orange and a grapefruit) together with olive oil infused with grilled prawn heads. Lots of great, crispy crunch from the asparagus and a touch of aloe vera.
On the right, a small bowl of grapefruit (only subtly different from the Hassaku) with langoustine prepared in a slightly different way. It's hard to detect what this second dish is trying to say, but it's interesting to get two similar angles on the same dish. 8/10.
As a small interlude dish; a smoked egg cracker with a tiny layer of beef. Pleasant. 8/10.
This complex dish of sea bass is served on a bed of vegetables and seafood; Roma tomatoes, clams, and zucchini grown by Yann Menard, who is apparently a very famous farmer in Southern France, and itself smoked in some oregano grown in the gorgeous Alpilles sub-region of Provence. There's a shitload going on here, but somehow it all works together. This is an insanely fresh, summery, professionally-planned seafood dish. 8/10.
As a total bonus because my dining partner had a longer menu, the restaurant generously gave me a course of Zitone pasta with the subtitle, "a tribute to a chef who taught me so much." The pasta is filled with black truffle and foie gras, and includes some delicious artichoke with strong basil flavors. It is served on what can only be called a stump with squirrel-hole in it. 9/10.
Served along with a touch of absinthe, this thyme flower palate cleanser has fennel flavors in the sorbet. 8/10.
A fascinating cooking technique that the kitchen was proud enough of to bring by our table as it was in-process: this "Chicken Supreme" is cooked in a cow's bladder. Unfortunately, this doesn't quite lock in the moisture like one might hope; the chicken is slightly dry. The green consommé, which the kitchen brews like a tea, brings things mostly back in balance. On the side, a chicken wing and an "oyster of chicken" with an actual tea, strong and slightly herbal. 7/10 overall.
Another bonus course (they were incredibly generous and friendly in general) this time a completely delicious riff on Tomme D'Arles cheese. An ancient cheese recently re-cultivated in the Southwestern Alpes d'Haute Provence region, it is put on top of a delicious pile of pickled pears, with some môle honey and a glaze of Boutellian olive oil (a French variety of olive). On the side, some chopped pear and sorbet, which are both totally excellent. 8/10.
And now, finally to the desserts. This next course actually had several components. First, some chocolate made like a crème brûlée served with frozen raspberries and a side glass of bergamot/raspberry juice.
Next, some warm chocolate cake, melty and excellent, served alongside...
...Some super-sugary, delicious raspberry sorbet. This is an overwhelmingly huge dessert, by the way. 9/10 overall.
Some pretty amazing petit fours were served next. From top to bottom, a tarte tropezienne, also known as the Tart of St. Tropez, made of brioche and with strong flavors of orange blossom.
Next, a pistachio cake with an explosion of colorful fruit, and some absurd gold leaf. Lastly, kumquat filled with kumquat ice cream, also with absurd gold leaf. 8/10 overall.
As a small last interlude that continues the citrus theme, some chocolates with a deep orange flavor. 8/10.
Tarte Tatin with Apple and rhubarb ice cream. Rich, almost exactly like a French version of an apple pie. Dessert is feeling excessive at this point. 8/10.
A Combava, similar to a makrut lime, is part of the mix in the last dessert. They generously bring one out from the freezer with white gloves to show it off. It has a strong, oily, citrus smell.
Very lastly, a gorgeous stracciatella. Big chunks of chocolate throughout. Vanilla bean flavors punch through and dominate the dish, which is completely fine with me. 8/10
A few parting views of the gorgeous hotel as we depart. I'll return here someday.
I could literally have not picked a more Monaco-y moment to visit Monaco's soul 3-star restaurant—Grand Prix weekend in Monte Carlo is truly a bucket-list type activity. Crowds throng outside the doors, and White House-level security is everywhere. Shitloads of plastic surgery. Serious people in suits.
The Louis XV is run by a youngish chef named Dominique Lory; born in '79, he spent a few years working for Pierre Gagnaire and then for Alain Ducasse at the Louis XV under Franck Cerutti, and then in Paris at the Plaza Athénée. In 2011, Ducasse sent him back to Monaco as head chef of his (arguably) European flagship while Franck Cerruti became the head of all Hôtel de Paris' restaurants, with Dominique reporting to him.
The room's gorgeous central light hangs like a crown over the dining room. Recently redesigned, the first-floor restaurant of the famous Hôtel de Paris has an open, airy, turbo-luxurious feel. In the center is a service station built of metal and mulberry wood that discreetly frames the work of the staff. Designed and built by Parisian architects Patrick Jouin and Sanjit Manku, the design is meant to memorialize the gravitas and glory of the old-world restaurant with a modern spin. I'd say they nailed it.
MONTE CARLO, MONACO
PRICE PAID: $450 PP (RACE MENU; LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10
The Hôtel de Paris, itself at the very epicenter of Monte Carlo and across from the famous casino, has some interesting history. Back in the late 80s, Monaco's Prince Rainier III challenged Alain Ducasse to build a 3-Michelin-Star restaurant in the hotel in less than four years, a goal that Alain crushed in only three. Especially impressive since, at the time Alain began, there were zero three-stars in hotels, and Alain had only achieved two-star status with his previous restaurant.
As far as the hotel itself goes, opulence is just a word. I checked, and for their nicest suites this hotel charges more than €10,000 per night with a straight face.
First out, a Meditteranean take on summer rolls—cracklingly fresh vegetables in rice paper with a rich and zesty olive sauce. The spoon-shaped wooden skewers are a nice touch. 8/10, a straightforward but pleasant start.
A slightly more adventuresome next step, both in flavors and colors—local fish marinated with vegetables that subtly enhance the colors of the fish itself. There are small cuts of cuttlefish, red mullet, mackerel, and skipjack tuna. Super, super fresh, like it was just plucked out of the ocean. 9/10.
Rich, yeasty bread served alongside a swirl of butter on a small marble block, and salt. 8/10.
First up on the main courses, Gamberoni, a type of prawn, with jellyfish, a gorgeous centerpiece of caviar, and rockfish on the bottom. Interestingly, the dish is served quite cold, and the all the flavors play well with the jellyfish, whose textures overrides most of the dish. 8/10.
Every now and then I encounter a dish that totally changes my mind on a whole genre of food. This dish did it for me with vegetables. Mushroom, carrot, asparagus, peas, and turnip in a shockingly rich green pea juice. The juice itself is made by putting fresh raw peas in an extractor, not cooked, with lime, sorrel, and mustard... and that's it! By avoiding cooking the vegetables, the chef maintains the freshness of the dish and keeps it balanced by not mixing fresh with cooked ingredients.
The peas themselves are all briely roasted, and they pop they're so fresh. The whole dish has a smooth and silky mouthfeel; this is easily the best vegetable dish I have ever had. 10/10.
Next, a gloriously-plated dish of Sea bass with tomatoes, olive oil, fennel, and kumquats, in a lovely warm sauce. The flavors work together near-perfectly, and this dish is an excellent showcase of the amazing product available to the kitchen in this Mediterranean haven. 9/10.
A second knockout in a row—some truly excellent, incredibly fresh, and perfectly prepared Guinea fowl for the main course. Lightly pan-fried with a nice harkening back to the veggies course from the peas and mushrooms, this hearty and classic dish is a slam-dunk. The protein is tender, warm, and pairs perfectly with everything on the plate. 9/10.
As a palate cleanser prior to the finishing courses, a granité (granita) of Waldorf salad. Simple and elegant, I will admit that it tastes a lot like a lettuce icee, but it more than does the job. 8/10.
You would expect this place to have just a princely Maybach of a cheese cart, and you would have your expectations met. Showcasing cheeses from Southern France, Italy, and Switzerland, I selected (from upper left clockwise):
- Roquefort, exceptionally strong and salty
- Petit fiancé
- Comte. All excellent. 9/10.
As we are consuming the cheeses, a young man hard at work at the center of the restaurant with an enormous mobile cart full of greens brings us a freshly prepared "Salad a l'occasion." It appears to just be some leafy greens. I haven't had such a salad before offered mid-cheese-course as it is, but it's not unwelcome. 7/10.
To clean our hands, a beautiful dish of water perfumed with orange blossoms is offered to us. An extremely classy gesture.
Spanish strawberries for dessert, served with a mascarpone sorbet. 9/10.
A crunchy, sugary interlude of candied nuts are offered. Kind of like the salad a l'occasion, I'm not really sure why and I haven't seen anything like it before, but it's kind of fun. 8/10.
Though only some of the table partook, I wanted to share a photo of their incredible herbal tea cart which includes potted, growing plants used as infusions for the tea served tableside.
Some super-sugary candied fruits; limoncello, bamago, and mango. 8/10.
For some reason, I'm offered two caffeinated beverages on departure: some coffee from Laos, sweet and floral, as well as a particularly rich and well-made espresso from Brazil that help round out the meal and give me the caffeine boost I will later need to fight through drunken crowds of pre-race revelers outside.
What the menu describes as "chocolates from our factory"—Black chocolate from Peru, and milk chocolate from Brazil. Rich and amazing, it's a great advertisement for the boxes of chocolate they sell at the hostess stand on the way out. 9/10.
Marmalade of yuzu with a yuzu sorbet; soft, dairy-infused citrus flavors. A perfect finish. 9/10.
Set behind a subtle pink facade among the gorgeous Spring pastel-colored walls of Modena, Italy, Osteria Francescana owns worldwide fame for its revolutionized style of Italian cuisine. A wildly passionate and toweringly extroverted person, the head chef Massimo Bottura is given to strokes of inspiration that cause him to stop traffic and call a friend with his new dish idea at a second's notice. He won his first Michelin star in 2002, his second in 2006, and his third in 2012. The chef and his team are given prominent billing on the first season of Netflix's Chef's Table documentary.
Massimo has a celebrity chef's CV to go with his celebrity restaurant. He has worked alongside Alain Ducasse, Ferran Adria (of El Bulli fame), and Georges Cogny. He opened Osteria Francescana in 1995 to an almost continuous river of criticism from conservative Italian chefs, who accuse him of "poisoning the national cuisine." A more reasonable reaction might be to say he's injecting new ideas into a very traditional style of food.
Expectations for this world-famous restaurant were sky-high for me. Bottom line: Massimo lived up to his ultra-celebrity in culinary art, and while his food definitively knocked it all the way out of the park, the service did not.
PRICE PAID: $251 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
There's a ton that could be said about Massimo, his restaurant, the city he comes from, and the culinary traditions therein. High praise of Modena's cuisine goes back as far as Cicero, who praised the town's food culture while writing his Philippicae (a series of speeches condemning Marc Anthony), and that was almost 2,000 years ago. Situated right between two tributaries in the Po River valley, Modena historically grown some of the richest fruits, vegetables, and proteins anywhere in Europe or in the world.
The door unlocks with great drama, and we are led through a series of hallways and passages to the main dining room. The place settings are classier and more spare than I would have imagined. The place is more Ritz Carlton, less punk rock than the reputation of the chef would suggest.
The interior had a decidedly Alinea-like feel to it—neutral, grayish colors, intense lighting, over-thick carpet, art with frames and subjects that match the tone of their surroundings. You know, birds sitting calmly on perches and shit.
A quick note on service—between seating and even getting our menus a really, really, really long time elapsed. Like, 35 full minutes. And, in a surprise move that has only ever happened at one other 3-star, the sommelier totally botched one of the table's drink orders.
First up, an ice cream of river fish—"Italian fish and chips" is the description we get. The ice cream is super cold and sets off the warn, crunchy wafer fantastically. Great start. 9/10.
Continuing the theme of dessert first—a "macaron" of tomato and stewed rabbit appeared alongside pillows of bread with codfish capers and tomatoes. The flavors and textures in both were perfectly matched, and the theme is clever. 9/10.
What would an Italian restaurant be without a shitload of bread sticks? We get an Olive Garden-quantity to munch on between courses, which as it turns out is often a really long time. Some hand-carved scoops of butter accompanies, which are utterly amazing. 9/10.
And now onto the first main course—a dish ever-so-playfully titled "Misery & Nobility" consists of oyster with a warm savory prosciutto broth in the ceramic canister underneath. The oyster is a perfect reflection of the flavors of the ocean—it is coated in seaweed and fried for an emphasis of its saltiness. The liquid prosciutto has a pretty, filtered, refined flavor. I'm detecting some kind of analogy to Land & Sea in there somewhere, but that's as far as I can decode this guy. 8/10.
Caviar, right? Nope, lentils! The dish is made with the belly of eel, crème fraîche, crunchy bread, and citrus. I have to say that the end result tastes exactly like caviar. A really cool effect, my only quibble is that there is way too much of it. 9/10.
The jelly sitting astride this dish is made from belly of suckling pig, which enhances the salinity of the pork belly and mackerel underneath. The vegetables, too, are really lightly pickled producing a pretty salty dish. Though this is the flavor it is known for, the mackerel is overly fishy and oily, which doesn't go perfectly. Saffron lends color but the flavor is hard to detect. 7/10.
Yogurt, potatoes, and tzatziki sauce on a plate of gnocchi. Small shaped spheres of celery—cooked quite al Dente—give a nice texture interplay. Tiny, shredded up peppermint leaves are a really nice touch, they build a strong mint flavor on the back of the palate which pairs perfectly with the potato-y pasta. 8/10.
One of the absolute classics of the restaurant: "Eels Swimming Up the Po River." Eels from the Po River valley, which itself surrounds Osteria Francescana, are famously delicious. If you care to listen, you can buckle in for a really long, complicated story about how dish is an analogy to some sort of escape of the Estense Dukes from Ferrara to Modena in 1598, forced upon them by an ambitious Pope who wanted their eel marshes. Anyways, the eel itself is cooked sous-vide with a coating of saba sauce and some onion ash, creamy polenta (on the right), and a brilliantly sugary wild-apple jelly (the green sauce). It's toasty warm and basically perfect. 10/10.
This next dish is titled "Autumn in New York," and it's an interpretation of Billie Holiday's hit 1934 song Autumn in New York. Zucchini with white beets, peas, asparagus, with a smoked porcini mushroom infusion broth. The rough apple shape that the dish is formed into is the Big Apple, get it? The dish works okay together; it's kind of a mish-mosh of flavors and textures, which kind of makes sense because the song is a mix of optimism and risk:
It's autumn in New York that brings the promise of new love.
Autumn in New York is often mingled with pain.
Dreamers with empty hands may sigh for exotic lands;
It's autumn in New York; It's good to live it again.
This next dish was easily my favorite in all of Italy so far—"Five Ages of Parmigiano Reggiano" is a metaphor of the slow passage of time. Each of the cheeses used in this dish is aged for a different length—24 months, 30, 36, 40, and the "clouds" on top aged to 50 months, a soft analogy to heaven or the afterlife. The flavor is that of the best soufflé in the world; the delicate and subtle differences between the different cheeses comes together perfectly, and the poetry in the meaning of the dish is singularly brilliant. A signature dish, and one that I would trek all the way back to Modena just to enjoy again. I'm not kidding. 10/10.
The story behind this dish is a reach back to the chef's childhood—"the Crunchy Part of the Lasagna" recalls the scrabbling with siblings or friends over the one most delicious part of the entire pasta dish one's mom has just brought out of the oven. True to form, it tastes exactly like a slightly crispy, burnt piece of rich pasta. Creamy and delightful flavors. 9/10.
This dish is a story of all the chef's travels; each little piggy represents one of his stops on the journey around the world to get where he is now. From left to right:
- Marrakech spices and pumpkin; Africa
- BBQ; North America
- Cucumber; Asia
- Avocado; South America
- Apple; Modena
All have pork belly underneath. The avocado is a little underripe and so is very firm, which I don't think was intentional. 7/10.
As we get into dessert, a foie gras "ice cream bar" rolled in almonds, a.k.a. "croccantino." The idea is awesome, but initially a heavy balsamic flavor overrides everything. It eventually evens out, yielding a super-rich pre-dessert with a great crunch. 8/10.
This dish has the fun title of "Gazpacho as a pre-dessert." The dish has brilliant colors and is constructed of lots of gels—cucumber, crème fraîche, orange, etc. The serving temperature is too warm for my tastes, and interestingly the gels don't taste like the fruits they represent. Sickly-sweet and overall a great precursor for dessert. 8/10.
Another restaurant classic—"Oops! I dropped the lemon tart" comes on a faux-shattered custom plate. Lemon and citrus flavors as bright as the sun. A brilliant finish to a totally brilliant meal. 10/10.
And, for the very last portion of the meal—"Reconstruction of a Cherry" has three small bites. From left to right, chocolate-covered foie gras, cherry chocolates, and cherry macarons. 8/10. If you can stand the long waits, this is the truly the ultimate gastronomical experience.
Arzak is one of those handful of restaurants that, to me at least, represents the most exciting restaurants of my whole entire Michelin 3-Star experience. Ever since watching Netflix’s Chef’s Kitchen episode about the father-daughter team that runs Arzak, I was attracted to their humility, their dedication, and their intense commitment to improving that which was already close to perfect. For example, they keep a "flavor library" in their restaurant to test drive new pairings and combinations for their diners, filled with hundreds of unique scents and tastes they have collected from around the world.
Arzak, at moments, came close to perfect. There were some truly inspired flavors and presentations (the beer can dish really stood out- see below) but elements of the experience really lacked. The dining room is really, really tightly packed. Certain dishes kind of fell down with their own complexity. To be really clear: at no time was Arzak bad, and this is still one of my top ten favorite restaurant experiences.
SAN SEBASTIAN, SPAIN
PRICE PAID: $241 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
We were seated in a corner table in a space that, to put it generously, was a touch overcrowded. Though I’m sure they’re eager to remain humble, it’s pretty clear that their massive popularity has forced them to get more from their space. Probably two or three tables too many crowded the tiny room.
A charming waiter named Cesar joined us at our table to give us a full course-by-course description of the menu; a unique gesture that I enjoyed. There were few choices to make on the tasting menu, and he walked us through what to expect for each one. The options were pretty easy- seabass vs. monkfish, pigeon vs. lamb, etc.
Some delicious, thick wheat bread and flavorful olive oil to start. 8/10.
These very colorful chips, complete with flower petals, were a delicious salty intro. They had shellfish flavors and make a pretty picture. 8/10.
Next, some fried anchovies—the anchovies aren’t oily or fishy in the least—that taste fresh, flaky, and lean, with the chives brightening the flavors significantly. I end up eating the tail and don’t even mind. 9/10.
Next, some gyoza of prawns with a batter made from Moringa, a spice from India known as the horseradish tree. Spicy, and the orange and green peppers add a nice texture note. There's a lot going on in these small dumplings, though. 7/10.
Check out this completely amazing presentation of mango and Basque "txistorra" sausage (a thinner, leaner version of chorizo) on the tail of a crushed beer can! The mango flavors pair with the protein perfectly, and I love the delightfully Instagram-worthy plating. 10/10.
Next, some black pudding with cabbage, which I (rather unwisely) ate in a single bite. A very soft mouthfeel and there were so many tastes throughout that the impression ends up being surprisingly neutral; the strongest flavors I could pull out are those of frosted sugar. 7/10.
The choice in opposition to the oysters is a fish of the day, which turns out to be sea bream. It doesn’t disappoint- zingy fresh, with a subtle clear sauce that adds a lot of depth without making it heavy. 8/10.
Like most of the Spanish restaurants I visited during this trip, olive oil is the standard bread pairing. I always ended up feeling slightly guilty requesting butter, because it comes out from the kitchen in these clearly hand-made flourishes. But then I immediately stop feeling guilty and enjoy the hell out of this awesome butter. 9/10.
Next, an extremely delicious plate that pairs freshly cooked lobster with… bee’s pollen? The pollen is also included with some blue honeycomb, and both taste a lot like honey. They add delicious waxy depth to the dish; I can safely say that I never would have guessed that this pairing works out, but it really does. The stickiness of the pollen goes with the crackling, firm freshness of the lobster in a unique and beautiful way. 9/10.
The zucchini tasted smoked, and grilled, yielding something like a barbecue zucchini. Not sure where this came from, or how it's supposed to fit into the flow of the meal, or if it was even supposed to be thought of as a whole course, but it tastes simple and delicious. 7/10.
Nobody on the staff was quite sure how it ended up with the name “Space Egg,” but the farm-fresh egg in this dish was slow roasted at 65° C for 40 minutes, which brings out tons of rich flavor. Surrounded by flowers and tiny dabs of sauces and spices, the flavor is so natural and bright, you can practically taste the seeds and grains the chicken that produced this lives on. I've never had an egg quite this good before. 9/10.
Next up, some sea bass with a graviola sauce, which is a tropical fruit from Brazil. The fruit has a flavor that's a midpoint between pineapples, bubblegum, strawberries, and bananas. It works just perfectly with the light, flaky, perfectly cooked fish. Yet another flavor combination that reflects the incredibly hard work and research done by Elena and Juan Mari. Super excellent. 9/10.
And now the big show: lamb with cypress, yuca, and grapefruit. The base of the dish has amazing flavors of armanac as well. We got to hear a neat story about how Elena and her father were visiting a friend named Vicente Carrillo, who makes guitars. As they stood near him in his shop while Vicente shaped a new guitar out of cypress wood, the shavings flew through the air and created a heavenly aroma that Elena and her dad agreed they had to share with others. So, the shavings of wood that surround this dish (and, truthfully, that occasionally landed on my plate) is an homage to that experience. The scent of the tree pairs perfectly with the lamb. A really cool idea and great execution. 10/10.
In another celestial reference, this dish is titled "Square Moon," and it's basically a chocolate cube filled with mint, neroli, and kiwi, a complex set of flavors that somehow work together perfectly. The server walks over with a teapot full of melted chocolate and proceeds to pour in, collapsing the structure in a big awesome pool. Check out the video to the right. 9/10.
Another dessert, another complex medley of flavors. This dish is a creamy mix of buckthorn (a somewhat bitter herbal) with smoked sheep's milk, sweet potato, and peanut. Everything goes together, but I feel like there's so much going on it's almost overwhelming. 6/10.
A simple, fun bowl of fruit ice creams. 8/10.
A lovely birdcage with folding gate is brought over with small petit fours. The pink is passion fruit with milk, green is apple. A delightful ending. 8/10.
Some pretty excellent coffee rounds things out. This place met, though didn't fully exceed, my very high expectations.
Azurmendi is most memorable for its treatment of the meal as an educational, enlightening, (maybe even moving?) experience. The event begins with a facility tour- we are walked through the lobby, the kitchen, a greenhouse, and given "snacks" along the way at each step. The tour is very showy—employees are pumping smoke into a fog generator, carefully placing small bites before arriving guests walk in—in a way that feels quite artificial. Not to say any of it was unenjoyable; it's a hell of a way to spend an afternoon, and it felt like so much more than just a meal.
On the approach up a steep hill alongside a highway, we drive past Eneko Atxa's cooking school and culinary center, and then finally arrive near the top of the hill at the restaurant itself. The restaurant itself has the look of a large greenhouse- floor-to-ceiling windows, glassy rooftop spans- lending the whole place a feel of transparency and eco-involved-ness.
SAN SEBASTIAN, SPAIN
PRICE PAID: $230 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
A gorgeously-manicured eco-garden full of the flowering plants that eventually become the fruits and vegetables on our plates surrounds the building. Down the hill from the main structure are a few thin rows of wine grapes, which also end up getting consumed a few meters away as the crow flies by the restaurant’s guests. The on-site winery is run by head chef Eneko Atxa's cousin, Bertol Izagirre, who specializes in Basque txakoli wine.
After a quick greeting (interestingly, the restaurant doors open promptly at 1PM and not a moment earlier; typical, I suppose, by Spanish standards). We give our names and are brought into the back of their lovely, verdant main lobby near a small waterfall for a “picnic course.”
Tucked into a classy little picnic basket are some delicious first bites: smoked eel sandwich in a bed of black volcanic salt (9/10), tomato water with marigold leaves (9/10), and some "Txakoli punch" with a liquid center that tastes what candy would taste like if it were made out of wine. Which is to say fantastic. (9/10).
Next, we are marched into the busy kitchen, which is in full swing preparing for lunch service. Every surface gleams, and the feel of the space is open, well-lit; focused but calm.
Our small group is herded into a corner, where the lovely tree-with-snacks combo you see above is presented. Some hazelnut chocolates and foie gras "seeds" with lovely golden color (9/10) and an almost sickly-sweet floral emulsion of Hibiscus (8/10).
Next, we are brought into the restaurant's "greenhouse," for a seasonal tour that included panoramas of different natural scenes complete with a small snack to accompany. It was entirely for show (the real greenhouse was towards the back of the property, this was more to convey the idea of where some of the ingredients arose from) but it was extremely entertaining nonetheless.
Perched in a small glass container with cork stopper, some delightfully rich corn soup. 8/10.
A fragrant herb garden is the next stop; accompanied by a snack that could best be described as what Oreo cookies would taste like if they were made of rosemary and basil. 8/10.
The next stop is a "cotton field;" in a small treasure chest is some cotton candy doused with asparagus dust. The cotton melts instantly in your mouth, and the sweetness and asparagus go together perfectly. Extra points for the incredible presentation. 10/10.
Lastly, we are brought to an area with "rotting logs" that are growing a small collection of mushrooms- Oyster, Shiitake, etc. We are handed a small leaf-shaped treat made from a paste of all those mushrooms, which tastes almost like beef jerky. 8/10.
Finally, we are led into the dining room to begin the meal service. The space is open and airy, and I dig the concrete flooring.
First up, a beautifully-presented frozen olive with a liquid center made of Vermouth. Alcoholic and very strong flavors of olive, which is a loud way to start the sit-down portion of the meal. 7/10.
This is served alongside an aperitif of a tiny glass of orange juice- more of a shot glass portion, I would say. The sweetness balances the savoriness of the olive quite well.
This egg has been injected with black truffle consommé and then cooked, in a technique the chef describes as "inside-out." The result is super soft and decadent; it doesn't get richer or more delicious than egg yolk with truffle. Maybe a quarter-step too rich. 9/10
Some "Milk bread" with olive oil. Soft and sweet, almost like cakebread. 9/10
With a name suspiciously similar to the opening course served at Per Se and the French Laundry, Azurmendi's "oyster and pearl" doesn't quite live up to the standard set by Thomas Keller's restaurants. Made up of oysters with liquefied seaweed, the taste is very fresh and clean, but it doesn't exactly burst with flavor. The oyster has a firm, fresh texture. 8/10.
And then, next up, some more oyster. This one with a super, super heavy sauce with some intense flavors- totally overpowering. 7/10.
An interesting change-up to the bread service- "double-fermented" bread. Richer, much thicker than the milk bread served previously. 8/10
Next, three versions of sea urchin- above, in a strawberry-bright red broth. To the right, raw sea urchin with vegetables, and further right a sea urchin "waffle," which is basically a sandwich. Super intense flavors or sea urchin throughout; that lovely, earthy taste; but three in a row is a lot to take in. The roe in the soup brings welcome additional texture. 7/10 overall.
Some caviar peas served beautifully with fresh caviar. The peas pop in your mouth, and the caviar flavors do not overpower. 9/10.
Another multiple-choice style dish: lobster in different versions. The portion in the center is roasted and quite fresh but not terribly flavorful. The much more interesting bit is the crunchy, light shell off to the right. 7/10 overall.
Next, some Basque cheeses with fried suckling pig. The small pipes of cheese are very strong, and pair nicely with the light crisps. The pork itself is just outstanding- this dish targets bold, bold flavors and just nails it. 9/10.
Next, everyone's favorite: cod tripe, or more specifically the bladder of a cod. Just kidding, but this dish somehow makes it completely delicious. My only complaint is the somewhat sticky mouthfeel that makes the dish come off as very fatty; feels like eating cream and deep fried cream together. 8/10.
Next, the server brings over this presentation of cauliflower with egg, and then carefully shaves a small black truffle on top. This dish felt strangely autumnal (it was Springtime when we visited) but the flavors worked together very well nonetheless. 8/10.
Delivered on a plate that loosely resembles the bottom of the sea with wisps of artichokes and vegetables floating upwards like seaweed, this perfectly-cooked monkfish was incredibly fresh and awesome. 9/10. Buried somewhere within is some basil that pairs more or less perfectly.
And now onto the big show- pigeon, on a base of duxelle (a mixture of mushroom, shallots, and garlic slow-cooked with herbs). Presented simply and with large nuggets of salt gleaming from the crusted skin. Super fresh, great presentation. 9/10.
And now, onto desserts. This first dish is a really cool combination of pineapple, cardamom spice, and celery. I never would have thought celery either A) paired well with pineapple, or B) would belong in a dessert, but you live and learn I guess. 8/10.
Another mottled plate surface is brought out, this time with yogurt, honey, and a five-spice combination that seems to mostly feature cinnamon. A nice simple wind-down from the more complex flavors of the dessert previous. 8/10.
And onto the last dish- a shoe-shaped dessert made of chocolate, peanuts, and licorice. I'll admit that licorice is not my favorite flavor in the world, but once again the main flavor combinations have been perfectly balanced. 8/10.
A pretty, rich cup of coffee served in a delicate handmade ceramic. 9/10.
Get it? It's a hand waving bye-bye to you and serving you some delicious petit fours as it does. The small box behind contains chocolates of mint, lime, and mango tea flavors. They're presented on a layer of chocolate and coffee grounds that smell delightful. Well done. 9/10.
And, just for the hell of it, a few parting macarons of nutella-like flavor. 9/10.
As we exit, a small bit of evidence for how hard Azurmendi works to stay organized and give everyone a great experience. I would return here in a heartbeat.
Martín has one of those very, very few restaurants that in all my journeys I would not only be interested but extremely excited to return to. With a bulletproof menu, incredibly disciplined and alert staff, beautiful physical space, and a creative and near-flawless execution, this is one of the best restaurants I have ever visited. It will be difficult to describe the fullness of my positivity without straying into hyperbole, but I will try.
Martín owns several restaurants around the world—in Spain, Shanghai, and the Caribbean—and has a philosophy of discipline, teamwork, and openness. His eponymous restaurant was opened in 1993 near San Sebastián, his hometown. He won his first star six months after opening, his third in 2001, and he has held them ever since.
The chef walked through the dining room to greet everyone post-meal. That particular day, he was wearing an immaculate white outfit with a BMW logo stitched on the nameplate, as though he were just arriving from the kitchen of some F1 team. An imposing but lighthearted person.
Martín grew up right next to the famous Mercado de la Bretxa watching fresh fish, vegetables, and produce get hauled in every day, providing his first exposure to Basque food culture. His father (and later Martín himself) ran the famous restaurant Bodegón Alejandro where he instilled in Martín the virtues of teamwork and tradition. It seems his dad knocked it out of the park.
SAN SEBASTIAN, SPAIN
PRICE PAID: $200 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 9.0/10
Shitloads of egotistical, self-celebrating metal yard art are rarely a good sign about an impending meal. Luckily, that premonition would be proven wrong shortly, but a small holy-shit moment did occur right as I was snapping these photos.
I really and truly hope that whole squads of brightly colored avians didn't have to die to make this lobby come together the way it does... But somehow, I'm pretty sure they did. I am reminded of the expression: “some days you’re the peacock, some days you’re the duster.”
Floor-to-ceiling windows yield views of riotous greenery. Subtle lighting pervades. One of my favorite dining rooms of all time.
Most of you who follow me regularly know that I’m a total freak about bread and butter. I am exorbitantly pleased to observe the touchdown of some multicolored butters (Beetroot, salty, spinach, and mushroom) alongside some lovely sliced sourdough.
The server takes the time to tell us that the bread is from the same yeast from a many, many years-old long-running ferment. 9/10.
First, a few amuse-bouches; sea crunch tempura, followed by a kumquat, anchovy, and olive combination (on the right). All the flavors contrast yet support each other well- the warm seafood tempura is set off against the sweet and crunchy kumquat in a delightful way. 9/10. Interestingly, the spoon motif is repeated from the metal sculptures outside.
Next, a menu participant since 1995- a collection of smoked eel with foie gras and green apple. The server pours a delightful mixture that activates the frozen nitrogen under the plate, creating a "fog" with lovely aromas. Super cool effect. The server recommended that we take each bite with a bit of cream. The foie has the texture and flavor of cream cheese, and is exceedingly rich. During prep the apple was carmelized giving it both a crunchy and sweet profile- the perfect combination of savory and sweet. The cream has a ton of flavor, complimented nicely by the spring onion. This dish really sings together. Amazing. 10/10.
The last appetizer course—a “red shrimp royale,” with dill and Venta del Baron olive oil. We got some coaching on this one also; it was recommended that we dip the spoon all the way to bottom to get one of each layer. The red shrimp is small compared to the surrounding sauce, and quite salty, and everything is quite flavorful but tastes a bit like Thousand Island dressing. 8/10.
As we get into the main dishes, a new-age version of a surf-and-turf arrives. Sea urchin curd, along with jamón, seaweed, and anise. And, as it is plated before us, another recommendation for how we should consume it: “mix it all together.” The sea urchin and jamón flavors are strong and quite contrasting- the sea urchin almost tastes like lobster, and the ham is rich and salty. Cubed apples jump up the texture contrast, but it's really creamy and overly rich. Tastes like you're eating a sauce with a sauce in it. 7/10.
Next, the beetroot course with its stunning red colors. The beetroot itself is sliced into tiny cubes, and includes some horseradish for a spicy kick. The cream is made from salmon marinated with citrus. The texture is just awesome; chunking the beet into tiny bits was the right call. The dollop of horseradish brings the whole damn thing together, and to top it all off, the salmon was super flavorful. A very exciting dish. 9/10.
The next dish is cheekily named: “The Truffle,” and includes some fermented wild mushrooms and collard greens. There’s a strange, interesting balance going on in this dish between warm and cold. Really rich, deep, and earthy flavors abound. 9/10.
Served on a plate whose surface almost looks rocky. this next dish is called “Gorrotxategi.” It consists of an egg resting in a liquid herb salad with dewlap carpaccio- bright, clean, crispy vegetable flavors and the egg is a deep yellow I’ve never seen from any American grocery store. 8/10.
A stunningly enormous salad shows up next; "vegetable hearts" with cream of lettuce. It’s a good salad for people who don't like salad- strong seafood flavors, crisp and crunchy. 9/10.
On the lower left and then clockwise- a bonbon of liquid squid, a mousse of saffron and then fennel, and finally mullet with crystallized scales on. The mullet is totally delicious- crunchy, warm, and rich (not fishy, like Akelarre), and perfectly fresh. 10/10.
And finally, we move on to the main course—lamb with sweetbreads, presented confidently on this colorful dish. Served alongside some Parmesan whey, a fritter or two, and some asparagus. This dish is literally perfect. Temperature, freshness, everything works together- this dish is crazy good. 10/10.
In a nice recall to the beetroot course- the sticks are meringue of beetroot, and they're so brittle they fall apart like they're freeze dried. The foam is made of tea, which has a delicious, rich, smoky flavor. Pepper ice cream brings it all together for a near-perfect ensemble. 9/10.
Lastly, a “salted rock” of chocolate with pistachio and salty Quinoa. The ice is cold, and the chocolate is mousse-y for a really good temperature contrast. 9/10.
Some coffee, and then a lovely wrought-iron tree with various small last bites of dessert. Milk cinnamon and Armagnac (tastes like Christmas), passion fruit and grape dessert, some striped chocolates with orange custard, plain ones with vanilla. The long, skinny cakes are hazelnut. 8/10.
Overall, one of the most enjoyable meals of the entire trip. Can't say when I'll be back, but it couldn't be soon enough.
Virtually a stone's throw from Schwarzwaldstube, another stoic German 3-star, is the hotel-restaurant Bareiss in the idyllic black forest resort town of Baiersbronn. Interesting that, as of mid-2016, this tiny burg (population 14,500) has as many three-star restaurants as London!
Run by Claus-Peter Lumpp since 1992 and winning its third star in 2007, Bareiss' head chef has spent time under the tutelage of European culinary greats like Alain Ducasse and Eckart Witzigmann. He describes his own style as highly technical with a focus on aromatic richness to the point of opulence. Having enjoyed a lunch here, I'd say his self-description is totally on-point.
PRICE PAID: $110 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
As I walk up to the host stand a full 15 minutes early, several employees of Bareiss’ restaurant attempt to greet me and sort me out. Two of them, approaching down the hall at the same time, offer me the local South-Germany greeting— "Gruss Gott," and then laugh as I struggle— they duck into a service door and say to each other, in English and very loudly, “He only speaks English!” Raucous laughter ensues. A bizarre greeting. I'm asked to cool my heels for 15 minutes so we can start exactly on time. How very German of them.
As soon as they decide it's okay to open their doors, which happens to be precisely 12:00 noon, the restaurant manager, chef, waiter, and entire wait staff greet me as I walk in. Everything in this hotel is pristine, ornate, polished, painted, marbled, and freshly dusted. The dining room has the feeling of a country club taken to a distant extreme- a gorgeous, enormous centerpiece exploding with tulips is the room’s center of gravity, and with great heft the wait staff haul an aperitif cart around to offer every new entrant. A single, freshly lit candle awaits me at my seat. A beautiful bouquet of cut roses sits at the table's opposite end. This is really a lot to take in.
A very small starter arrives on a silver plate with pretty, tiny platforms. Top to bottom- kingfish with tarragon sushi, leek tart, ham and bread, and cream cheese with fish and paprika. The sushi is very cold, which would never fly in Japan, and additionally when you eat finger food in Asia it is always accompanied by a warm napkin to clean your hands with. No such luck here, which seems like a strange miss based on how detailed the rest of their work was. 7/10.
Shaped like a sprig of ginger, the bread is trotted out piping hot and super fresh. 9/10.
Two varieties of butter; sweet on the right, salty on the left, both "from France." When I press a little further for a farm/locale/region, I am informed, "from France." Thanks guys, that helps. #stoicism. 8/10.
Like a beautiful Roman laurel, this dish, lovingly titled "Variation of Carrots and yogurt," has some pretty unique touches. The yoghurt has a layer of purple Urcarrot (German for "old carrot)" with delicious beet flavors, and slightly spicy. Interestingly, four hundred years ago all carrots grown in Europe were purple, and only after the orange variety was created in the Netherlands did we get the stereotypical color and appearance that we associate with the root vegetable today. The small flakes on the side add crunchy texture. 9/10.
Next, a ragu of prawns. The glass noodles are a nice touch. Mushroom and cilantro simplify and add layers. Broth has a coconutty Tom kha gai flavor; it's also pretty spicy. Another appropriation from Asia that works out pretty well. 8/10.
Next, some Swiss Char tartare with asparagus tip salad. The fish is warm and perfectly cooked— in the running for best piece of fish ever, actually —the tartare exhibits almost citrus flavors. The white and green asparagus are in an egg yolk cream and are crunchy-fresh, and the roots of radish are a nice flourish. 9/10.
Now onto the main show- milk-fed calf with sweetbreads and morels, along with a sauce of fruits and radish, a side dish of veal ragu with morel foam. The calf is firm and actually a touch on the dry side. It leans heavily on the sauces for flavor, and the sauces lean heavily on salt- I crunched through a particularly large flake. The veal ragu and foam combo is a good re-interpretation of the main dish, but I'm not sure why the same two ideas are presented in totally different ways- one is about as good as the other but there's nothing accretive about presenting both experiences together. It feels like you're getting two mains. 7/10 overall.
Though the photo doesn't do it much justice, for the dessert courses I am handed a separate, much more delicately embroidered dessert napkin. A really nice touch.
A spicy and delicious creation— basically crème de cassis ice cream— with a lovely garnishment of sliced fruit and flowers. A touch over the top sugary, but awesome nonetheless. 9/10.
... Accompanied by some Tahitian vanilla foam, which tastes a lot like vanilla ice cream, which was totally fine by me. 9/10.
As we approach the wrap-up, some mignardises/petits fours— right to left: passion fruit, red currant, and then chocolate with a heavenly molten center.
And then, out trotted the dessert tray with pralines, macarons, pâte de fruits, fruit pie, etc. 9/10.
A selection of gorgeous hand-made German chocolates. Super awesome ending to a super awesome lunch. 10/10.
At the end, I'm given a silvery bowl of warm rose water to wash my hands with. It's a bit confusing and I must admit that this is the only 3-star that gave me a hand-cleanser at the very end of the meal— are they trying to save me a trip to the washroom?— but it was an okay way to transition to the bill.
I wasn't joking about the price- less than 100 Euros for one of the most sumptuous lunches of my lifetime.
This is it- I found it. The most romantic, epically cool building of any 3-star restaurant in the world. Schloss Schauenstein ("Castle Schauenstein") has portions that were built almost 800 years ago, and the main building itself is a few hundred. It's situated in Fürstenau, which quite confusingly brands itself as the "smallest city in the world." Fürstenau appears to be a small clutch of snowy buildings, which I would deign a village, but no one asked me.
Another opening comment- service from the moment the door opened to the moment I left was absolutely and totally outstanding. I had driven through a very late-Spring Alpine snowstorm to get there, and perhaps because they were happy someone had braved the weather to join them, proceeded to be the kindest and most attentive group I have ever spent time with. Bar none.
One more quick word before we really get started- Andreas Caminada really feeds you. There is only one main menu option, and it is totally badass, but holy mother of God will you get full. Arrive hungry.
I got the chance to meet Andreas at the restaurant, and he is a calm, collected, well-centered soul. He runs something of a cooking and media empire in Switzerland, and he clearly has ambitions for much more beyond his many already successful restaurants. Someone to keep an eye on.
PRICE PAID: $285 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10
Lisa the guest services coordinator happily greets me right at the door. She gives me the tour and shows me the gorgeous original 12th-century basement, which today houses a wine cellar, a sauna, and a spa. Modern furniture and fixtures throughout, which is a fun contrast with the absolutely ancient surroundings.
After our brief tour, I’m led upstairs to what was once a nobles’ salon and is now… a Vodka bar. Bright under-lighting gives the room a decidedly Muscovite feel, and on the other side of the room a glorious marble fireplace blazes away. Sweet.
More than any other 3-Star I’ve visited, Schauenstein is trying hard to make a go of the mobile era. There 2D scan-enabled cards— roughly business-card size— randomly distributed around the castle (in the menu, the parking area, the sauna, etc.) and several members of the staff make mention of the app you can download that lets you take a 3D tour of the castle itself. Scanning the cards unlocks achievements and new features of the app. Sounds hokey, but it’s actually pretty entertaining to be constantly on the lookout.
As I sit lounging by the fire, several helpful people bring me a menu, a glass of Swiss-made sparkling white wine, and a few small starter bites.
A bloody mary “shot;” tomato and cracker, self-contained in a warm shell that cracks open as soon as you pop it in your mouth. Really delightful sensation.
Next, graham cracker pasta with kohlrabi and fish eggs- lighter, more flavorful.
Lastly, the liver/foie cracker. A rich little bite with tons of different flavors and aromas. 8/10 overall.
The bite on the left reminded me of Kylo Ren's ship from Star Wars: The Force Awakens, for some reason. Anyways. A light crunchy snack, served alongside more delicate pasta. Really fun. 9/10.
At this point, I was asked if I'd like to take my seat in the main dining room. I was politely led back downstairs to the main dining area, where I found this fantastic little piece of chiaroscuro:
I cannot help but admire the extremely stark lighting scheme, as well as the flawlessly perfect tabletop surfaces and understated decoration. Every table felt directly spotlighted, which had the effect of keeping all the patrons shrouded in darkness, effectively giving each table a great deal of privacy. It was an admirably thoughtful effect that highlighted the colors of the food while letting the patrons enjoy each others' quiet company.
A riff on beet soup with a frozen sphere of beet ice cream and a super-crunchy beet leaf, together with a mustard mousse. The ice cream is rock-hard cold- you have to chip into it with your spoon- the mustard pairs well and all the flavors are zesty and refreshing. A bit salty, but delicious. Really neat idea; frozen instead of hot. 9/10.
The next amuse-bouche is a small square of Val Lumnezia chicken presented with smoke! The aroma fills the room in a pretty excellent way. Freeze-dried, smoked corn is also a nice touch and pairs more or less perfectly. Another win. 9/10.
This course is meant to evoke the raw, green beauty of the village where Caminada was born- Maiensäss. Maiensäss is at the top of the mountain where the cows graze, and this dish is a birds-eye view of that three-house village. The artist who makes these "lightning plates" out of iPads lives a few villages away. One house is a Grisons meat parfait (also known as Bündnerfleisch, an air-dried meat that is a specialty of the canton of Graubünden, Switzerland). Another is a tail-of-veal jelly, and the third is a collection of pearl barley, peppermint, and a vinaigrette. 9/10 for creativity, and definitely for flavor. A bit odd to be dining off an iPad, but I’m all for new things.
And now onto the bread, which I have to say was another huge win- piping hot, served in a black cloth, and covered in flour. The butter comes in two versions- sweet and salted with fleur de sel. Tastes oven-fresh and basically perfect. 10/10.
Next, a course of egg, truffle, and celeriac soup with mushrooms. The soup has a vegetable stock base with local truffles from the canton of Grisons. Lots and lots going on here, and it mostly works out well. The celeriac forms a nice starchy base, and the broth ties everything together well. 8/10.
Swiss char (who knew?) with a play on tartar sauce. On the side, raw fish under a layer of cream. Parsnips are a good choice, not overwhelming; an easy pairing. The fish is just a touch not-fresh. 8/10.
Next, some aggressively-plated langoustine with a "variation of carrot." The broth includes just a touch of dill. The soup is lawsuit-hot, which is a little surprising since temperatures have been relatively mild up to now (makes sense with the late-Spring snowstorm). The carrot has been cut into beautiful red scrollwork, and the flavors and textures are masterful. 8/10.
For a restaurant several thousand miles from the cultural heartland of BBQ, these are the most excellent pork ribs one could possibly expect. They were, once again, served very fucking hot. Lightly glazed with a tomato-and-vinegar based sauce; once again just a touch dry. 7/10.
Braised pork cheek with decadently salted, delicious pickled vegetables. One of the prettiest, most intensively-prepped dishes I have ever encountered. 7/10.
Some decadent tortellinis, served with a "foam of Parmesan." The Parmesan heightens the salinity of the dish quite considerably, but quite wisely the chef serves the pasta itself relatively al-dente to downplay the saltiness. 8/10.
Cured pork with beans- the beans are perfect with the bacon- served alongside a gloriously American-tasting apple and cinnammon compote. The flavors work together to absolute perfection. 10/10. Feels a little bit autumnal and hence out of season but I care not.
Next, a somewhat confusingly titled "rocket salad," wit pumpkin seed oil from Austria, pikeperch fish (also known as Zander) with variation of pumpkin The green sauce is extract of arugula, which might be where the name comes from. The fish is extremely fresh and the starchy vegetables complement it well. 8/10.
The final main savory course- lamb. The curly things are potato-like; the tiny kumquats add a citrus flair and are a great touch. Smoky and spicy, extremely good. 8/10.
The cheese cart was all about showcasing the great diversity of Swiss products (beyond Emmethanl "Swiss cheese" obviously). I was offered a selection of cheeses from Andeer village aged to different degrees- 3 month vs 15 month, etc.
My favorite was a really incredible cheese called Vacherin Mont d'Or. The product is made only from summer milk, has a lovely dry grass smell, and deep rich flavors that I absolutely loved. 9/10.
A selection of cured meats from different local producers in Grisons and elsewhere. The meats are presented first, then delicately carved up and served alongside some roasted pear and compote. 8/10.
On the side, a typically swiss dessert of "Malloons"- potatoes with cream and sugar.
And now onto the sweet stuff- first, a quince and apple dessert. The coin-shaped apple mush has the flavor and consistency of really sweet baby food. The soufflé in the upper right is excellent, it's just absurdly fucking hot. Burned my hand on the dish like a damned fool. One small note is I would have liked more heads up about dishes to watch out for. 8/10.
A collection of small dessert bites- green apple macaron, raspberry tart, "coffee slice," on closest dish. Next on left- chocolate ganache. Uppermost- a strawberry explosion similar to the Bloody Mary starter. 8/10 overall.
Walking back out into the snowdrifts, I couldn't help but admire once again how gorgeous this place and its grounds are. If I ever return, I would definitely consider renting one of the handful of guest rooms the Castle offers. This place is a truly incredible gem.
On a drizzly, early-Spring midday I arrived at the exterior of the Hotel Les Trois Rois, a luxurious but somewhat sad-looking building on the river in the center of Basel, Switzerland. If you’ve seen the film Grand Budapest Hotel, you’re getting the picture. This is a new entrant to the three-star category; they just got their third star as of the 2016 book, and, seeming to feel the need to prove their mettle, they did not disappoint. Peter Knogl leads an exceptionally professional staff for one of the most satisfying and least expensive meals of my entire adventure. This place is a must-visit.
PRICE PAID: $112 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10
I’m walked into a large, European-Royalty-Drawing-Room style space quite similar to L’Astrance or Le Meurice. Gorgeous oil paintings with a Renaissance look are hung on the walls, and an ancient golden cuckoo clock incorrectly keeps time above.
I’m seated at a corner table with a beautiful view of the river. Incongruously lime-green buses crisscross the low, grey European skyline every minute or two, and four freshly-made candles adorn a silver candlestick at my table. The space could not be more quirkily elegant.
On weekdays, the restaurant offers a “business lunch” menu for around $100 that is an absolutely killer deal. It came out to about $10 a plate, and I left absolutely stuffed. Their regular menu is well over $200, and there was some visible disappointment from the wait staff when I didn’t order either that menu or wine, but them’s the brakes.
Bread and butter service are just okay- the bread is crunchy, and the server charmingly admonishes me to only take one piece at a time so I can enjoy the smell of each loaf more before they get cold. An oddly European piece of advice. 7/10.
Next, some Carabineros (a red prawn from the Mediterranean) with jalapeño mousse. One must dig down and get a whole vertical slice for all the correct flavors to be present. Small chunks of shellfish are throughout, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding mousse they're so soft. Rich, and slightly sweet- almost an avocado mousse flavor. Everything is super fresh and goes together perfectly, a stupendous start. 10/10.
Next, a tapioca chip with a tiny wrap of beef, served on a napkin. The rich sauces are a little overwhelming, and taste almost exactly like Arby's horsey sauce. 7/10.
This is easily one of my favorite dishes of all time. A dill-forward collection of clams presented in the shell of a razor clam (on the left) alongside mushroom slices and a mushroom sauce on a chip that tastes like Wheaties cereal (on the right). The flavors all (somehow) work together perfectly- 10/10.
Kingfish, miso, and avocados. The fish is very bright and fresh, but I suppose that Knogl and crew can't help themselves but to install dabs of extraordinarily rich sauce that taste much like mayonnaise. Nothing wrong with that, but it ends up being a lot of goddamn mayo. 7/10.
Check out this beautifully constructed dish of angelfish and Perigord black truffles. The truffles are excellent and the fish is fresh. Once again, the sauce is unspeakably and unnecessarily rich. 8/10.
Next, a completely awesome Granny Smith apple granita with coconut and ginger. The sugary softness of the yogurt is balanced perfectly by the spicy ginger. And on the side, a Granny Smith shot! Sweet and fresh. 8/10
As we wrap up, a tiny, perfectly-balanced spoonful of tropical fruit and cheese. 9/10.
Some absolutely awesome mignardises; including a hazelnut triple stack, Lemon, and carrot. 9/10.
What would a visit to Switzerland 3-star be without some Swiss chocolate? This enormous tray of hand-made confectionary is brought to my table with a great flourish. I'm told to select as many as I want, and of course the temptation is to scoop them all up and put them in my backpack, but that strikes me as a potentially gauche gesture.
From 12'o'clock, and moving clockwise- salty caramel, pure dark chocolate, piña colada, Mint, yuzu, and Szechuan spice. Piña colada is liquid centered and tastes like an alcohol-coconut drink blended with white chocolate, so they nailed it. Mint is spearmint and very strong. 9/10.
Though I won't often get explicit about the financial piece on this website, Le Cheval Blanc made it easy for me to hit my $100 target by setting their fixed menu lunch at an unbelievably reasonably price for one of the top ~100 restaurants in the world. As I said, this place has it all.