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.
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.
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.
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.
Situated below street level in a quiet office block of a tasteful, artisanal-store-heavy neighborhood not far from Tokyo's new Olympic stadium construction is Aoyama Esaki. I found the restaurant to be much like the neighborhood around it- interesting, understated, pretty. For less than $100 (with champagne!) this place also turned out to be one of the best deals of my whole trip.
PRICE PAID: $95 PP (INCLUDING CHAMPAGNE- LIST PRICE IS ~$55)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
The seating areas are separate from the two private dining rooms, and the tables and chairs are underwhelming but nicely spaced.
Both the food and drink menu are (almost) entirely in Japanese, and language skills are, shall we say, highly goddamn mixed so make sure you bring your Google Translate app or someone with at least a Middle-Schooler-level understanding of Japanese.
First up, a delightful collection of 10 varieties of Japanese fruits and vegetables including rose hips, brussels sprouts, oranges, water chestnuts, deep fried flowers, radish, carrot, grilled onion, and black beans, all prepared differently. The flowers taste surprisingly rich, and overall this is a stunningly great and diverse set of flavors. 9/10.
Striped jack- or shima-agi- sashimi- had a soft and delicious texture. Paired with some delightfully briny seaweed. 7/10.
I thought this was incredibly sweet- rather than try to explain the fish's name and qualities to me, our server ran and got a Japanese fish reference book, which she offered for a photo or for casual perusal as we enjoyed our sashimi. Charming that they both have such a reference tool on hand and that they offer it so freely.
This clam soup was almost perfect- a really enormous clam was served in its shell with a small garnishment of veggies on top. Rich and salty. 8/10.
Out comes the fish book again, this time without having to ask. We are told, once again quite charmingly, that the fish we are eating might be any of the handful depicted on a given page that we were directed to. Three or four fish were illustrated, and I must say that they looked pretty similar, so rather than ask for more detail I thanked her profusely.
Sea bass perch with "Orange Queen" Chinese cabbage - the fish is excellent and brought out nicely with a buttery sauce. Peas are bright and sweet. 8/10.
Next, some delightful rice and mushroom soup. The soup had almost a peanut butter note on the nose, and tasted like forest floor in the best possible way. The rice was hearty and satisfying. 8/10.
Mostly because I was so thrilled to have it (it was seldom on offer in Japan,) a lovely hand-brewed up of Brazilian coffee. 8/10.
Though this wasn't my favorite dessert in Japan, the starchy yam paired really perfectly with the lychee ice cream to make this beautiful dessert. 8/10.
With its Spanish-influenced style and refined atmosphere, Cá Sento is a fascinatingly beautiful oasis in the hum-drum normalness of Kobe. Only a few blocks away from some pretty seedy red-light-ish districts and "all you can eat Kobe beef, $40" restaurants is this little beauty:
PRICE PAID: $180 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
A 3-star since 2010, the head chef Shinya Fukumoto is an alumnus of Mugaritz, a famous San Sebástian-area restaurant that pioneers new preparation techniques. It's a much longer story, but San Sebástian itself is the center of Spanish "pinxto" culture- also commonly known as tapas. The heavy Spanish influence on this restaurant is most easily detected in their application of pinxto-like dishes.
The restaurant has a gorgeous, tasteful interior decor. Place settings are immaculate. Service is soft-spoken, sweet, attentive. There are only a handful of neatly-aligned tables.
Spanish/Quixotian/Whimsical touches abound. Northern Spain more or less has a lock on the bizarre as stylish - just ask Picasso - and this place fully cops said style, to the extent reasonable.
First, my heart plummets into my stomach as I see that our first dish is karasumi with Kyoto radishes. The crunchy texture and the earthy flavors of the radish actually offsets the condensed egg texture and fishy flavor of the karasumi perfectly, and in a real accomplishment I can actually say that I really enjoy this karasumi. 8/10
Next, some Japanese green vegetable soup. Multiple textures going on here. Yellowish egg-like custard at the bottom, thick and creamy layers. Lots of different flavors to pick apart but still amazing. 9/10.
Japanese multi-plates are super fun- they're meant to bring together a wide variety of flavors and textures and start to tell a story. Many of these (especially the fish dishes) are pinxto imitations. I'll start in the lower right with that green dish and go clockwise.
This first dish has a pasty look- snapper in a white bean sauce with parsley, cumin, a pesto-like sauce, and almond. It tastes like eating someone's garden that has been through a Vitamix- crisp high notes of vegetable, with a nice smooth texture from the snapper. 9/10.
A nice break from the earthiness of the pesto and vegetables- "river fish," in a red sauce is fresh and quite spicy. 8/10.
Next, some squid and bean sprout with a white miso sauce. The bean sprouts add a wonderful crunch to the squid's soft textures- strong flavors of vinegar and cayenne, which go together surprisingly well. 9/10.
Another strong-flavored pairing: mackerel with sliced garlic. The mackerel is slightly oily and very fresh- there's some olive oil layered on there to really drive the oily point home. The strength of the flavors match but they don't harmonize as well as the last fish combination. Mouthfeel is oil-soaked. 8/10.
Next, a clever little dish of "blood sausage" made of duck from Osaka. Very soft and rich, tastes exactly like blood sausage as the name suggests, with a rich egg-yolk sauce on top. Some heavy hitters in this plating group. 8/10.
Some focaccia bread- heavy with oil and rosemary- is a delicious snack bite. 8/10.
Lastly, a deliberate copy of the pinxto style found in San Sebastián- sliced anchovies with a circle of radish. Strong flavors from both- the anchovies have that briny, ocean-fresh taste that matches up perfectly with the earthiness of the radishes. 9/10.
Behold: this is the best salad in the world. I found it.
Let me start by saying that this salad was good enough to change my mind on the entire genre of salad, writ large. We start with a lovely base of farm-fresh vegetables like potatoes, taro, turnips, Brussels sprouts, red peppers, flowers, snap peas, carrots, red and white onion, butternut squash, radicchio (purple stuff), frisée, red chard, spinach, and arugula. Then, we add some magic:
A piping hot Emmental cheese sauce is poured over, and it is the best thing ever. As she poured, the server explained that this salad is totally unique to chef and is one of their signature dishes. 10/10. Go to Kobe expressly for this salad. I'm not joking.
I would have been pretty sad if I had to leave Kobe without some Kobe beef... And thankfully, the next course was Kobe veal with black truffle, polenta, and broccoli. The veal is soft and decadent as all get out, and the black truffle is actually a bit over the top- the protein would have done just fine on its own. Texture is pliable and easy, 9/10.
As we get to the wrap-up courses, a lovely bouillabaisse fish soup with rice and a fresh tomato base. Rich and smoky, with very fresh fish. 8/10.
Dessert is a mousse of orange and smoke flavor, made with orange beer. A delightful and creative finish. 9/10.
A rich and gorgeous serving of coffee- a really nice break from the roasted oat tea that finishes most fine dining meals in Japan. 9/10.
Tucked away near a Bushido temple in Shinjuku, tiny Ishikawa has an understated exterior shielding one of the world's friendlist and most interesting three-stars. Hideki Ishikawa is featured in Lutz Hachmeister's food documentary Three Stars (worth a watch, by the way) and describes in detail the hard work he invests to create not just a special experience for his guests, but a fantastic place to work for his staff as well. This was an excellent experience worthy of another visit- exceptional service, stellar food with incredibly fresh ingredients, and delightfully creative presentations.
PRICE PAID: $176 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Upon entering, the scented air immediately fills the space around you- it is heavy with rice, cooked fish, and spices- in a completely welcome and homey kind of way. Not nearly as formal, aseptic, and strict as most of the other Kaiseki restaurants I have visited on this trip.
I'm given a chair at the very small (7-seat) counter next to two nice couples. The space is clean, subtly lit, easy on the eyes. I'm immediately comfortable.
First out is a delightful cold dish of blowfish tossed with Japanese herbs and a white radish sauce. Great textures and very, very fresh. Radish sauce is fruity, almost citrusy. 9/10.
This is my first experience with turtle of any kind, and it has a chewy, soft, mushroom-like texture. Two large chunks are served hot, and they're meant to be eaten in two big bites with kelp salt to taste. 8/10.
Next, a clear-broth soup with scallop dumpling, bamboo shoots, and seaweed. The small green garnish on the dumpling is a Japanese Pepper bud. The bamboo tastes rich, almost smoky, and the seaweed is super fresh- feels like it was hauled off a boat that morning. 8/10.
3-Michelin Star sashimi courses rarely disappoint; this is no exception. Sea urchin as soft as ice cream, sea bream as bright and zingy-crispy-fresh as I've ever experienced. The texture is also soft and smooth- a very easy-to-down course. 9/10.
Next, a few elegant bites of squid with ginger. Lightly seared and warm. The increased temperature is a nice break from the sea bream and the urchin, but the squid is seared in such a way that it doesn't lose its outstanding texture. 9/10.
Next, some conger eel- pleasant and soft, perfectly cooked texture. This is normally a subtly-flavored fish, but the crispy presentation and the cooking oil bring out some delightful flavor. 9/10.
A delightful plate of snow crab; soft, with an almost sinewy texture. The turnip brings out stunningly bright flavors in the crab, which is served cold. The title of this dish was "Delicacy," and I couldn't agree more. 9/10.
Hot pot courses are super fun at Kaiseki restaurants, and this one was no exception. Super-fatty duck is served alongside some vegetables; the slick mouthfeel of the duck pairs perfectly with the lean, crisp vegetables and the tasty broth. One of my favorite courses of all time. 10/10.
As most Kaiseki restaurants do, Ishikawa offers a "bottomless" course that usually involves rice and a light protein. In this case, steamed rice and perch are served alongside some pickled vegetables, and will be refilled on demand until you're full. I like the idea that good restaurants don't want you to leave hungry. One round was all I needed, and the flavors were light and delicious- if anything, a touch on the bland side. 8/10.
For dessert, a mousse of soybean in a soybean soup. I can very safely say I have never had anything remotely like this dish- the soybean mousse is almost chocolatey- and this is a perfect cool-down dish. A great finish to a great meal. 9/10.
Right down the street from Ishikawa (the restaurant that actually owns this one), is Koji Koizumi's more informal (but just as excellent) kappo-kaiseki style eatery, Kohaku. Though a touch more experimental and informal than Hideki Ishikawa's place, both the interior look and feel as well as the ingredients and dishes felt extremely familiar. I will say that going to both restaurants within two days of each other was probably an error on my part.
PRICE PAID: $158 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Over the course of my two-week trip, I encountered English-language skills that were all over the map; rather unfortunately, I'd have to place Kohaku in the bottom quintile overall. Not a single person could do much more than read the Google-translated menu they printed out for me (which is fine- I'm the traveller visiting another country, it should be on me to learn the language rather than force them to speak mine). I will admit, though, that this made the meal a touch more isolating than usual.
Service was extremely attentive- like many counter-style restaurants, the chefs and cooks were also the servers, table-bussers, water-pourers, etc. This leads to a very efficient and busy counterfront, but the downside is that when they were approaching their peak demand from the private dining rooms, they were often too busy to attend to things like tea, water, clearing, etc. Understandable, but my meal slowed way, way down around the middle of the menu to a glacial pace.
First out, a delightful dish of Shogoin turnip that has almost cigar-y/tobacco-y notes (I'm not a smoker, but it was damn good). The mushrooms were perfect- there's a firm but oily protein that turns out to be turtle. 9/10.
A beautiful dish- the burdock root is very firm; almost potato-like. I will say that though it adds a lot visually, the truffle doesn't bring a ton of flavor- it feels a little too dry, like it has been in storage too long. 8/10.
I will admit that they even describe this dish as "Just Fired" on the menu, but this pufferfish liver was Uncomfortably Hot as Fuck. Like many other pufferfish livers I tried, it can best be described as a sea-salty, ocean version of foie gras- very rich, and very dense. 8/10.
A lighter, extremely refreshing soup after the heavy liver- the eel dumpling is light and sweet, and the broth is almost sugary. A thoughtful next step. 8/10.
More consistently than most Japanese 3-stars, Kohaku really nailed their seafood presentations. This mackerel practically melted when touched with a utensil. The sauce was close to perfect, and the shaved veggies added a crunchy texture. 9/10.
I must once again say that, as far as preparation goes, this snapper is absurdly well-made; it just falls apart. Nice, bright flavors and the addition of tofu and wasabi goes a long way without overcomplicating the dish. 10/10.
Another interesting changeup- this dish is served quite cold, a nice break from the heat/spice of the previous dish. The eggplant itself has deep, smoky flavors. Which pairs nicely with the perch- notes of apple, smoke, salt; a really deep and balanced dish. 9/10.
This was the only spot in the meal where the chef lost me a bit (but only just a bit). Bear isn't something I'm accustomed to, but especially after all the lean/light seafood, a big, heavy, oily cut from a bear leg wasn't exactly a welcome diversion. The veggies are crunchy and squeaky. but the bear is fatty, greasy, and gamey. The bamboo shoot is cut a bit too large and it's a huge challenge to bite into. Just like at Koryu, I have learned that bear is not my favorite. 6/10.
As we get around to the final hunger-eliminator course, I must say that the rice and yellowtail fish are rich and filling but a touch dry, the miso overly seaweedy. 7/10.
As a nice wind-down to the meal, a cup of roasted-oat tea, which like always is pretty good and tastes a lot like Honey Smacks. 8/10.
A lovely, if small, dessert of fresh strawberries (in season at the time) with cream and crunchy fried tofu skin. A pleasant if non-spectacular conclusion to a really excellent meal. 8/10.
And, last but not least, a bottomless ceramic cup of green tea to warm me up before heading back out into the late-winter air. 8/10.
Nestled in picturesque Bray, an ancient exurb on the distant Western end of Greater London, the Waterside Inn is a culinary icon. Albert Roux runs the place, taking over for his dad Michel Roux who had the reins from 1977-2010. The family is basically gastronomical legend; the restaurant has held 3 stars for 31 years, and it was the first restaurant outside of France to hold its 3-star rating for a quarter-century. That was in 2010... :)
BRAY, UK (NEAR LONDON)
PRICE PAID: $280PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
After a quiet, windy walk down a cobbled street from pre-dinner drinks at the Hinds Head (the Fat Duck's bar), we walked into the main entrance of the Waterside Inn. It appears to be targeting the famed British "cozy" aesthetic, and man are they nailing it. I felt like I needed to take off my shoes. We walked through this anteroom into the main dining room, where sadly I couldn't snap a photo because the space was too tightly packed and awkward to have that make sense.
In the great and massive tome I will someday write about bread and butter, this place is solidly middle of the pack. But nothing special. A hockey puck of salted, local butter and some handmade baguettes are extremely good but also nothing terribly special. 7/10.
First bites: setting up the themes for the evening of extremely precise and refined knifework and a huge focus on the aesthetics of color, juxtaposition, and careful crafting, we received a share-plate of heavy, creamy foie gras on toast, raisins on salmon, and anchovy. Very salty, it got my attention with the gorgeous colors and flavors, but kind of a heavy start with the large portion and liberal use of cream sauces. 7/10.
Served shockingly cold, this butternut squash soup with cracker has a thick, almost paste-like texture. Beautiful, precisely-cut vegetables and mushrooms. Some interesting peanut butter flavors going on as well. 7/10.
Man, would you just look at all of those individual components the cold line had to build?! Lobster, caviar, several types of gelatin, carefully-dolloped sauces... While visually gorgeous, the Lobster lacks umph- it was clammy and thin. Caviar, lobster, and gelatin do not match up well, and the beet flavors end up winning out. Maybe that was intentional but it's unclear. 6/10.
Interestingly, the moment we move away from the fancy fireworks of the bright colors and knifework, the flavors start to speak for themselves more strongly. This foie gras and potato soup is incredible- it feels almost like the first time you have French onion soup on a cold Winter's day. The tarragon flavors are nice; shame there isn't more of it. 9/10, great dish.
A crazy-creative combination of breaded monkfish with chorizo and coq Au vin... Almost pizza flavored. The combination of flavors and textures from the three proteins- monkfish, chorizo, and chicken- would never go together in any cooking textbook, yet here we are. This is the kind of creativity that keeps this place famous. 9/10.
A super-classic French dish- duck with pear. Everything goes well together, but the overall effect is quite salty. 7/10.
A lovely palate-cleanser- basil and passion fruit sorbet, with extremely bright tropical flavors enhanced by the gentle mint. 8/10.
With lovely flourishes of raspberry sauce, (though no dessert is quite as flourish-y as Alinea's) this made for a kingly dessert. 8/10.
Made using Mirabelle plums, noted for their soft, tender flesh, and distinctly perfumed flavors, this was in every way, shape, and form, a perfect French dessert. 10/10.
What would any good French meal worth its salt be without an enormous, fragrant cheese cart? I love the selections here (the Stinking Bishop is a must-have), and grabbed a sampling of their soft cheeses. They were, without exception, excellent. 9/10.
A delicious last few bites served on a beautiful tray- great way to end the evening! 8/10.
Set in the middle of downtown San Francisco, Corey Lee's Benu restaurant is an advanced laboratory of Asian-Fusian cuisine that isn't afraid to try adventuresome, interesting dishes.
SAN FRANCISCO, CA, USA
PRICE PAID: $298 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Corey Lee is a rising-star alum of Daniel in New York and the French Laundry in Napa, and is in the process of making a name for himself in the fine-dining world. Benu has only had their third Michelin star since 2014, and the whole place exudes a rockstar vibe that I found very cool.
With its own beautiful urban courtyard and a gorgeous, understated interior, I found even the walk inside an entrancing start to the evening.
The first portion of the meal consisted of approximately 10 mini-courses, called Small Delicacies. The first one out was this absolutely stunning winter melon and chicken cream with caviar. There was a nice gel texture in the under layers, and the gold leaf is over-the-top but adds beautiful colors to an already gorgeous dish. Wonderful start. 10/10.
Next, a small grouping of delicately-plated dishes- mushroom with squash and pine nuts, eggplant uzu, then ginkgo nut. 8/10 overall
These next three were a really impressive experimentation with textures. A cured, unlaid egg with bacon, a "Beggar's purse" with essence of oak tree, and an Eastern Chinese "drunken chicken" dish with quail jelly. Overall, 9/10.
The unlaid egg is exactly what it sounds like, and it literally explodes in your mouth under lots of tension- 9/10, a really fascinating dish.
The Beggar's purse is full of mushrooms, and unfortunately was a bit dry... 8/10
The Quail jelly is firm, and the chicken has great texture- 9/10
Next came an Eel taco wth mountain yam with a tiny micro-lime perched nearby. Great textures with the crunchy shell, and the eel was fresh and delicious. 10/10.
An amazing square slice of bread with barbecue duck liver and pork, then liver again, with a marinade as the sauce. Nice, strong sherry flavors. 9/10.
A "1,000-year-old quail egg," came next. We were informed that they were actually aged in Korean pots for 4 weeks. Right after serving, a thick cabbage broth with ginger spice and foam was poured over. It had a little spice kick to it, which was almost perfect. 9/10.
Tomato and celtuce came next. Celtuce is a vegetable that I had never experienced before- this HuffPost article nicely summed up my response. Strong bruschetta flavors throughout. 7/10.
Next came an ornately-served lobster coral Xiao Long bao. Corey offers an extensive explanation of the dish here, but the bao is served super hot and with strong ginger and vinegar flavors. 8/10.
Next, a very good marinated sea urchin and fermented crab sauce. The urchin is good, but not Tokyo good. Rich tastes of whole wheat. 8/10
It comes with a not-terribly-photogenic broth.
This cucumber dish with peanut and black truffle had a steamed bun off to the side. Very umami and rich. 8/10.
Next, a whole braised abalone with chicken and Iberico ham. 9/10
So, first and foremost, this isn't real shark fin soup. Dry salt-cured ham from Jinhua gives the soup its flavor- egg white custard at the base with Dungeness crab. 8/10. Another really creative dish.
Kampuchea tea- a delicious palate-cleanser. 8/10.
An unspeakably soft, beautifully shaped Hosui pear sorbet, 9/10
A beautiful apricot dessert with Osmanthus flowers and almonds. 10/10
Lastly, a lovely, delicate sculpture of dark chocolate with candied seeds. Big, crunchy, delicious. 9/10.
BAIERSBRONN-TONBACH (BLACK FOREST), GERMANY
PRICE PAID: $241 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Deep in the Black Forest, Harald Wohlfahrt has built a gastronomic temple in the most picturesque setting imaginable. Deep pine forests set on rolling hills with shining rivers cutting through- it's the German Middle Earth. Wohlfahrt is credited with training most of the other German chefs awarded three-stars.
A quick note in background- I was set to begin lunch right when they opened at 12 noon. I had a flight out of Frankfurt at 5:05PM, more 125 miles away, to take me back to Chicago. I also wanted to do their longest and most complex menu. This is the fine dining equivalent of asking them to sprint a marathon. David, the head waiter, agreed to go really, really fast. He did not disappoint.
All servers were dressed in full tuxedos for a Sunday lunch service. Attitude overall was insanely formal- at each course, the assistant server would awkwardly present his tray and bow in front of the table before serving. He stared at me throughout like he wasn't quite sure why he was doing this either.
While waiting in the plush lobby couches to be seated, I was given three small silver spoons with a bite apiece. They were a magnificently diverse selection of flavors and textures- from bottom to top, sushi-grade tuna with horseradish, beef with a passion fruit pâté, and a fried beef meatball. A delicious start- 9/10. Soon after, we moved into the main dining room:
Big and airy, and with a touch of a country-club feel to it, the restaurant has gorgeous hillside views of the Black Forest below.
Starting from the bottom left and moving clockwise- Chorizo dabs (red) give a nice slickness to this fresh green onion. On the upper left, passion fruit foam is brilliant and speaks to first bites. The egg is firm but the yolk is light and delicious- almost mayo-like. The cube of mackerel on the upper left is super, super fresh. Veggies and Asian salad remind me instantly of Chihana in Kyoto. 9/10.
Going clockwise from lower left- the quail leg is delicious and goes with pine nuts, but temps are out of sync- quail is warm and nuts are piping hot. Vegetables crisp and fresh, and the sweetbreads are rich and delicious. The pine nuts make more sense with the liver, which is gelled in a Jurançon jelly (a type of wine jelly infused with saffron). 9/10
Next, Breton lobster- presented with sautéed calamari sepia; heavy flavors of capsicum and fennel. I'd say the sauce is 85% butter, and the plate is served lawsuit-hot. 8/10.
This Rouget is served in an intensely aromatic broth of saffron and herbs on a base of small shellfish. The fish itself falls apart like melted butter- literally perfectly cooked. Light, crispy skin. This is a classic Mediterranean dish done right. 10/10.
The menu charmingly described this course as "Venison of homegrown deer." I like to imagine some famous chef patiently raising wild deer in his garage for such a purpose.
The protein is just beautifully cooked, and the is once again absurdly hot. Toweringingly savory! Golden raisins and chocolate/Nutella sauce are a good idea- the protein balances well with the sweetness. Apple circles work well too. 9/10.
The cheese course is a charming Parmesan and salad with Trevisano and dandelion- creamy and delightful, with distinctive Parmesan flavors. 9/10.
A candied Christmas Tree of sugar plum, the decoration pops open to reveal a hollow core of spun sugar. A delightful and playful conclusion to the meal. 9/10.
Petit fours! Run to Frankfurt!
PRICE PAID: $280 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Located in London Mayfair right near the Marble Arch in the beautiful (if a bit overdone) Hotel D0rchester is Alain Ducasse's UK flagship restaurant. Headed up by chef Jocelyn Herland, this is only one of 27 restaurants in the Ducasse empire. It has held its third star since 2010; an impressive record after opening only in 2007.
Herland previously ran La Plaza Athénée in Paris, and was hand-picked to run Ducasse's London headquarters.
A few quick notes about the interior- sited in the already gorgeous Dorchester hotel, the restaurant itself is full of natural, understated colors and a few design flairs. A fiber-optic-lit machination called La Table Lumière sits in the corner (I happened to be seated right next to it) for those wishing for a more secluded experience. During my meal, a toweringly obnoxious couple from California dined with their little girl who kept throwing her caviar and seafood whilst requesting chicken nuggets. At certain points, I couldn't blame her.
Our first bites were an enormous pile of cheese snacks. Hollow spheres of breaded cheese- what an interesting start to a meal- and I'm not kidding when I say it was, like, two pounds of snacks. 7/10.
First course is a beautiful, thoughtful presentation of lobster with raw and cooked asparagus. Sauce is awesome. Lobster is perfectly cooked and fresh. 8/10.
Next, we had some duck foie gras stuffed with peach. Foie is almost refreshingly light. 9/10.
Thirdly, some Scottish langoustine served with squid ink ravioli. Soft and rich. The broth ties things together perfectly with flavors of green mango and lemongrass, what an exceptional and memorable dish. 10/10.
Next, a generous cube of turbot with clams and beans. The beans are a nice textural partner to both. 8/10.
The only mild disappointment of the evening was, unfortunately, the main. This beef was overcooked and not well matched in its black olive jus. 7/10.
Some excellent Comté Garde Exceptionnelle from 2012. 9/10.
Ducasse must enjoy the looks on his patrons' faces when staff members come by and dump enormous quantities of baked goods on their table. These macarons and chocolate are excellent, but once again: there are a shitload of them. 9/10
Surprisingly similar to Milky Way bars; the chocolate and ganache dessert is another pleasing contribution to the finish. 8/10.
PRICE PAID: $90 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Located in the gorgeous Hotel Bristol and overlooking a lush interior garden, Epicure keeps all the beauty of French cuisine without making it intimidating or snooty. Service was casual but friendly, and this was some of the best breakfast food I have ever enjoyed. Period.
First out was some gloriously simple salmon and flatbreads. The salmon is smoky and super fresh. The bread is fluffy and soft. The cream is super dense and rich. This is true breakfast. 9/10.
Presentation was a touch messy, but this ham with cream sauce was salty and delicious. Good balance of textures. 8/10.
Beyond being unspeakably decadent (gold and all...) this egg custard with caviar served perfectly in a dark-colored shell was an explosion of flavor and textures. A really well thought-out dish; and the yolk was on the bottom.
Ended on a bit of a disappointing note, sadly- not particularly fresh fruit or good yogurt- 6/10- also, as an American I'm accustomed to Greek yogurt, so this "real" yogurt tastes like water. I like that they took the opportunity t0 brand the dish, though.
SAULIEU, FRANCE (NEAR BURGUNDY WINE COUNTRY)
PRICE PAID: $328 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
Occupying a prominent space in the very small downtown of Saulieu, Bernard Loiseau seems to be an industry to itself- by the time you’ve added up the space taken by the hotel, the restaurant, the spa, and the shop with all the Bernard Loiseau collectibles, you’re in the double-digit percentages for the town's economy overall.
As seems the tradition with excellent European countryside restaurant/inns that have achieved 3-star status, after checking in at the front desk I was immediately asked if I would like an aperitif on the beautiful garden terrace. Laid out neatly under large, Sherbet-Orange colored awnings is one of the most tranquil and beautiful gardens I have ever visited.
The gardens butt up against the pool and cabins that are part of the property- I took a walk down there, and the garden is full of beautiful hand-hewn stones like this one:
An interesting note about the experience- the restaurant uses the terrace experience as a staging point- you gather your thoughts about the meal and make dinner, dessert, and wine selections all in advance before proceeding to the dining room.
The dining room itself has a tall, airy feel- almost like a ballroom or a tiki hut. The beams are light and fashioned from wood, and most of the lighting on this bright summer day was natural with small artificial lights further to back close to the kitchen. All around was bright, verdant greenery, colorful flowers, and insects humming in an intensely-alive environment.
Service, led by the dynamic and friendly Eric, is formal and in a typical head waiter- assistant waiter- server- runner format, with at least six different people including the sommelier stopping by at some point during the meal. The attitudes were quiet and respectful but not haughty, and I got great service from everyone involved, except one runner who seemed bent on getting me to consume another glass of wine before a very long drive, which I politely declined three times.
Upon receiving my aperitif, a small dish of light baked bread with cheese arrived. Excellent for pairing with a light drink or champagne, they were warm and tasty. 8/10.
Next, a small plate of amuse-bouches. The one on the left is effectively a fried cheese-ball with rice inside- super homey and delicious- the square is crunchy, and the spoon was a creamy, fruity delight. 9/10.
For the next courses, I was led into the dining room and was almost immediately greeted with this fascinatingly-colored, delicious dish:
Tiny, delicate pigeon on the bone in a green minty sauce; the server encouraged me to eat it with my fingers- they provided a small dish of water with lemon for cleansing.
The taste was rich and delicious- imagine the tenderest, softest chicken wing you’ve ever had- and the sauce paired well and made total sense. I skipped the cream in the middle, since it just seemed like an excuse to pile on the fat to this already caloric dish. Also, there was butter:
Next came an extremely pretty Sabot fish in red wine sauce with skin perfectly seared on top. The white fish was flaky and soft; basically perfectly cooked . My only complaint here was that the red wine sauce took things a touch far- there’s no reasonable way to pair anything except a rich sauce with this extremely light fish, I get that- but it was overwhelming. Like taking a delicate piece of sushi an smothering it in McDonald’s BBQ sauce. 7/10.
I’ll take a moment to mention that Eric pointed out the plates used in the “Bernard Loiseau Classics” menu- they’re all at least 25 years old, and all but 4 of them have survived service in the restaurant since they were made in the 80s. They were all pretty and accentuated the dishes nicely.
Next, a truly perfect dish of soft chicken breast with liver, black truffle potatoes, and asparagus. You won’t find a more classic French dish anywhere in the world, and this one was executed just perfectly. The breast was incredibly soft but somehow still well cooked enough to avoid being pink. The potatoes, heavy with truffle, backed up the protein with perfection. The asparagus was bracingly fresh and stood well on its own or with the vegetables and chicken. The liver was a touch rich, but coming off a full week eating food with that kind of richness I’m willing to give them a pass. 10/10.
To round things out, they hauled up their unremarkable cheese dish with way too many mild cow, mild sheep, and uninteresting goat cheese options.
I selected some Epoisse and some monk’s cheese- the experience was utterly similar to spending ten minutes at the cheese counter at any Whole Foods. The server didn’t have much advice either, and for some reason was surprised that I hadn’t already selected my cheese in advance. 5/10.
Three small decadent desserts arrived next, each with a small fleck of edible gold leaf- the first one chocolatey, the second one creamy and herbacious, the third one rich apple-flavored. They were paired up next to this delicious monstrosity:
Self-suspended layers of chocolate crackers held together with extremely dark, rich chocolate ice cream. A melon sauce surrounded the outside- it was a huge dish to take down, and a rewarding and delicious dessert. 9/10.
Lastly, a tiny plate with a baked almond “cresting wave,” a tiny pâte de fruits, and a dark chocolate truffle with the Bernard Loiseau logo. All delicious and super over the top. 9/10
PRICE PAID: $375 PP (LIST PRICE- PRE-CHALLENGE)
FINAL SCORE: 8.0/10
About two hundred yards to the West of the Petit Palais along the river Seine in Paris sits Yannick Alleno's gorgeous Pavilion Ledoyen.
Built as a garden mansion for Napoleon III more than 150 years ago, the pavillion was taken over in 2014 by the Alleno group and serves as a restaurant, event space, and bar. From the walking tour I took after the meal, it was clear that they were still growing into their space- much of it was built out and restored, but some parts were very much untouched since the Second Empire.
The gilded entrance, like most of the rest of the structure, is beautifully restored.
Let's kick things right off. To start, you're brought a small panorama of nature that happens to include small bites to eat.
The ravioli is creamy and cumin-y, with a tropical dairy texture. The hibiscus and sweet onion is crunchy and the flavors reminds me of Hawaii- coconut oil, pineapple, etc. There are some pretty amazing dim sum and soy flavors at work too- a strong start. 9/10. I also really like the spongy platform that the course is served upon.
A colorful offering of salted and unsalted butters, along with some pretty awesome breads.
Next up, Iberico ham with a rich sauce. The ham is well-salted, and the fermented gelee is a heavy idea so early on in this menu's story. 6/10. Good but mouth-burningly salty.
"Twice-marinated anchovy" - Wonderful, crunchy texture, but the fried components (that tasted a lot like fried onions) layered another portion of butter and fat on an already rich start. 7/10.
The pasta in this next dish is poured right on top of the remains of the previous- an interesting statement about refreshment and renewal. The sole has an almost sushi-fresh quality- cool and clean. 9/10.