Augieland

Babbo Truffle 111 stars

In the first week of November 1999, Wife (then Girlfriend) took me to Babbo for the tasting menu to celebrate my birthday.  While perusing the menu we came across the truffle tasting which in those days, being as young and aspiring as we were, was way out of grasp of our purse strings. Each year, as I age, Babbo reminds me I am doing so in the dead middle of white truffle season.

At this point, the Babbo birthday truffle dinner had reached epic proportions.  In my mind it was the pinnacle of these affairs. I have tried truffle menus at many of New York's restaurants in the intervening years and am the sucker that adds white truffles to just about anything you will allow me to, happily paying the supplement and considering myself lucky to live in a place that these wonderful little nuggets of somehow sexy earth travel to. As part of our honeymoon Wife and I spent two of our days in Monforte d'Alba (go here as soon as you can) and another two in Alba proper. Wife argues that the reason I really love her is that I believe her breath smells like truffles. However, if ever asked, I had never been to the summit because I had yet to sit down at Babbo and have the truffle tasting menu for my birthday.

This was the year. A friend of mine asked for my help getting a reservation for Babbo for a special occasion, which happened to fall on my birthday. When I mentioned this fact he said "you get me this reservation, I'll take you for your birthday the next week."

DEAL!

Last night, under the guise of celebrating my birthday, six of us sat down for the truffle tasting menu at Babbo and everyone was a-titter. The waiter went through his routine describing the Babbo approach and method and service and declared us geniuses when he heard our plan was to each have the truffle tasting menu and pair it up with some of the more traditional Piemonte wines.

For the wine service, our waiter came clean on not having had the opportunity to taste many of the wines we were talking about and graciously bowed out, sending David over to field our inquiries. After some discussion involving facts like, that for an all truffle dinner we thought it best to go with a truly traditional minerally, austere, older Barolo or Barberesco and were thinking about starting with one of the Piemontese chardonnays, David strongly suggested a Trebbiano d'Abruzzo by Valentini '01. It was precisely the right thing; open tank fermentation and the resulting oxidization had made a white with real depth and complexity. It was fabulous, and got better once it lost some of the chill it had when first opened. It was all I could do to make it last until the first course.

While choosing the Trebbiano we also ordered the first red. Being six we decided we should or more, could, get a magnum. After a little give and take we settled on an '88 Barolo in magnum. Wow is this a wine. We lost a lot when we lost Guiseppe Mascarello this summer. Red fruit, flint, roasted meats, smoke, a truly special wine that evolved the entire time it was open. We all fought to keep it in our glasses through the entire meal just to see where it would go.

We discussed the idea of doing a vertical with our second bottle, and plucking another vintage magnum of Mascarello from Babbo's extensive list, but finally decided to go horizontally with an '88 Giacomo Conterno Monfortino, and an '88 Aldo Conterno Gran Bussia Riserva, both in bottle. The only flaw with these two amazing wines was their not being in magnum and coming after the Mascarello. Both were dynamite, with the Giacamo showing more anise and the Aldo being a little more fruit forward.

Truffles are an aroma, truffles are not a taste. Two things truly magnify the aroma of truffle efficiently, heat and lipids. Hot lipids are the easiest, and therefore probably best, way to express the truffle's genius. 

In Piemonte, the home of the world's greatest white truffles, every restaurant has their version of a couple of dishes that do this; their simplicity is the key. There is fonduta, a hot bowl of melted cheese to which white truffles and, in very special cases, an egg are added. Taigarene is a small twist of doughy pasta served swimming in butter after which truffles are grated over it. Carne cruda is raw meat, usually veal, hand-chopped (but sometimes sliced) that gets good olive oil drizzled over it and then, you guessed it, white truffles flutter down on this as well.

Babbo's menu definitely embraced simplicity. There were eight courses, four of which involved truffles and it cost $250 per head. The other four courses were non-truffle desserts. First up was Tom Biggs farm eggs with guanciale. The egg had been fried sunny side up in a ring mold and some sliced guanciale (cured pig jowl) was fried like bacon and set on edge around it to make a frame. There was a drizzle of olive oil as well. Truffles were shaved tableside. Being at the farthest table from the kitchen, at the back of the upstairs, I saw what was definitely going to prove to be a high hurdle to our genius plan: the food was no longer hot, so we had truffle-y egg and great bacon, but, well, no heat.

Up next was pappardelle with Parmigiano Reggiano. Simply very wide hand-cut noodles dressed with butter and a grating of Parmigiano Reggiano. The noodle was an interesting choice, as its girth did not really encourage the truffles to spread and incorporate the way a smaller shape would have. But still an austere canvas to let the truffles strut their stuff, which they probably would have had the pasta been hot. The most interesting thing about this course was the red truffle. The insides of white truffles range from the grayish color of the exterior to the khaki color of a J Crew chino. In my experience the darker ones are more aromatic. The truffle sliced on my dish had a pink interior, beautiful.

Classic tortellini in brodo came third and greatly benefited from the fact that the brodo was brought upstairs in little cast-iron teakettles so when it was poured over the truffles that had just been laid over, that wonderful shock of truffle wafted up in all its glory.

Veal loin with pancetta and cauliflower: two slices of a veal loin on two fried cauliflower florets. The veal had sage sandwiched inside a pancetta wrap, then seared and served spread on a plate. Again a dish almost designed not to retain heat during its travel to table.

Next was a cheese course, the ever-present coach farms green peppercorn studded brick with some fruit mostarda. Next, a warm chestnut honey spice cake, a very good spice cake. Bittersweet chocolate crema followed and it would have again been a solid recreation, but it had had some kind of berry liqueur that all six of us agreed just wasn't right and somehow made the entire experience bad. Last we had a sampling of desserts from the menu; pear semifreddo, pumpkin cheesecake, and another version of spice cake, all quite good, the pumpkin cheesecake being the table's favorite.

We are lucky enough to be alive while there is a truffle glut. Two weeks ago the price of white truffles dipped from an average of $1800 - $2000 dollars a pound to $1100 - $1350. I would ballpark this menu at about ½ ounce of truffle per person for the whole dinner. Not knowing this, I am not sure how I would feel about the dinner, but armed with this knowledge I can't help but feel Babbo is ripping us off. There is no value and the cost of ingredient to cost of this dinner is almost criminal. Add to that the fact that nothing special has been done for this menu, it is all just other menu items adapted. The notion of covering plates for their long travel from the kitchen in order to save the precious heat was not even thought of. I have to say this meal is not worth the money. Go right around the corner to Cru and get the seven-course truffle menu for $220, the entirety of which includes truffles (right down to a truffle ice cream for dessert), where you will truly get your dollar's worth.

Maybe I built up the idea of Babbo's menu to heights it could never achieve. If so, I am sorry. Except for Lupa, I don't know a better place in New York to sit down and have a great glass of wine and an exceptional bowl of pasta. But Babbo is credited as being the dream place, where the true genius of the cucina d'Italia is supposed to be revealed to us, and I can't help but feel this menu was designed by businessmen to profit from, rather than by food-lovers to share a special product with us.

COOKSHOP 432 stars

People I trust said, “Cookshop is our new favorite restaurant,” so I grabbed Bubby and dragged him all the way over to 20th & 10th.

The room seems to have done a good job establishing itself in a very boring space.  Clearly a soulless person designed the real estate and they seem to have warmed it up some with red leather banquets, wood furniture, and a wide-open kitchen.  There is a wall of windows looking west across 10th Ave., but somehow it feels more like you are in an Anderson showroom then a restaurant.

The wine list is fun: about 70 red and another 70 white, all very friendly with the menu. It has a good sampling of the regions of the wine world where people eat. The prices range from $26 to $173 but favor the lower side. We chose a Ribola from Greece, as I believe one must always do when the opportunity arises. It was a perfect representation of Ribola, a warm weather white with a very pronounced fruity nose of melon and lemons, not very structured, but for $27 we figured it was worth a try, and it was. We brought the other one home when we moved on to a Priorat for $57. It was very Californian. Pronounced fruit, young and kind of one note, definitely not representative of the depth these wines can offer but we knew we were walking down that road when we chose such a young example.

When asked for suggestions, our waiter responded that he ”liked just about everything and it really depended on his mood,” a fine answer because it seemed genuine. When pushed, he said the smoked bluefish appetizer and all the salads were especially good. We decided to grab a couple of starters and then negotiate dinner when we saw how full we were.

Under starters we went with the recommended bluefish. It was quite nice, made even more so by the fact that I believe bluefish is almost always horrible. Except for Pasternack’s (Esca) bluefish crudo the only other preparation I knew of was this.  Cookshop’s dish comes on an arugala salad dressed with a muscadet vinaigrette and three types of local grape. Also from starters we had fried market vegetables. Really just veggie tempura -- bell peppers, onions and broccoli -- I was glad to have it because it allowed me to use the sel gris on the table. Fried food can always tolerate more salt even if your chef has a deft hand, which I find frustratingly common at places that put good salt on the table. You want to use it but the food doesn’t need it.

From the salad section we had the autumn lettuces with warm anchovy dressing. A great use of bitter greens and the awesome way they can play off Bagna Cauda. One of the dishes you should feed morons that say things like “I don’t like anchovy, it’s fishy.”

From snacks we had Florida shrimp beignets. You know that intriguing almost chlorine flavor of a salt-water pool that comes from a great shrimp dumpling? This is that. There is a dipping sauce I used but I can’t promise it changed much.

The first round was a perfect size and was definitely good enough, so we decided to go with two entrees and a side. The entrée section is divided into sauté, grill, wood oven, and rotisserie and there are four $5 sides.

From wood oven we went with Farmers cheese and beet green-stuffed pasta on smashed Hubbard squash. The squash, which was a puree and on the bottom of the cast iron serving/cooking dish, was a saturated solution of butter and squash, it was absolutely velvety. The pasta, which is really a manicotti, was great, a good showing for the subtle sweetness of beet greens.

From the grill section we got the Berkshire pork sirloin & link cider-braised cabbage & smoked pear mustard. If this sounds like something you will like, get it. It was as good as this dish can be. Compared to the pasta, though, it seemed to me like the kind of comfort food I should make at home and let the chefs wow me with more original fare

For a side we decided to go back to Snacks for the fried spiced hominy. Yummy. Might be fun to pop into the bar for a dish of these and a beer some day.

Cookshop does a great job with intersting ingredients. The thing I find interesting is that my reaction was to wish it were closer so I could more easily go more often. Then I found myself hoping everyone felt that way so that it is always accessible. This would be a great place to remember, pop over, wait 20 minutes, sit down with no reservation, and enjoy a meal.

a recipe for bluefish

The best preparation for bluefish your dad caught during the summer and left in the freezer.

Serves 1 happy family

1 bluefish 12-14 lbs

1 2-foot 2x4 preferably spruce

½ cup old bay seasoning

1 stick unsalted butter

A bunch of thyme and parsley

Kosher salt & pepper

3-foot sheet of Aluminum foil

2 16 penny steel nails

Soak the 2x4 in salted water over night.

Preheat oven to 425

Salt and pepper the cavity of the bluefish and stuff with the herbs.

Rub the butter all over the fish’s skin and dust with the old bay seasoning.

Carefully envelope the fish in the foil, sealing so that steam and liquid will be contained

Attach packet to 2x4 by driving one of the nails through the fish’s head and the other through the body just above the tail.

Pick up the packet now attached to the board and throw directly in the garbage.

Per Se -160 stars

A place claiming that its service is so fine that tipping is compulsory should not be as flawed as this.

I am speaking here about Per Se, where their treatment of a foie gras option was to me proof perfect that the service fee plan is flawed. At fine dining restaurants in New York, especially at the rates they command, I have learned to trust in my waiters for guidance as to the ins and outs of best enjoying their particular venue. At the better of these establishments, great service and menu navigation garners better tips than check inflation and one's experience is often enhanced by the sure hand of a skilled guide.

The servers were aware that this was our first trip to Per Se.  We had discussed with our waiter that I would be having the vegetarian option and the other three people at the table had chosen the Chefs Menu in order to maximize our ability to sample the food. For the third course, the Chefs menu offered a foie gras option for a $25.00 supplement.  When we discussed it with the waiter we decided two would get the foie and the third would have the hearts of palm. 

When the food was served, the foie was certainly enough that one portion would have satisfied all four of our tastes, while the entire hearts of palm offering was not actually big enough to cut into four. A good server, actually interested in our experience (and, as a result, his tip) would have either said, "the foie is far larger then the hearts of palm, maybe you would rather have two of those instead," or switched one of the foie courses for one off the short menu so that when we finished we would not have sent about two-thirds of one order away because it had gotten mundane.

When seeking out a next wine, I consulted with our server asking what the next two courses on the Chefs menu would be. I was told lobster would follow a seared Suzuki. No brainier, big white.

I discussed with my server the fact that Keller is well known for his 1/2 bottle program and that I was thinking a 1/2 bottle of white burgundy seemed appropriate to get four of us through the two courses. He went on to assure me the $485.00 bottle was in his opinion "far better" than the other three offerings, which respectively were $70.00, $80.00, and $110.00. It seemed appropriate that it would be, but not necessarily a helpful piece of advice. Moving on, I chose a nice Chassagne Montrachet for $110.00 that was beautiful, huge and perfect. It acted as a good foil for the Suzuki, which my three co-diners found overly salted (third course in a row salted with a very heavy hand) and had given up on. The heart breaker happened when the following course appeared: a seared scallop, not lobster.  The poor little guy never stood a chance against such a huge white.

At Per Se's prices, and with fixed service fees, this is inexcusable. It was the server's job to realize he had goofed and fix the situation. The flow of our dining, although a good shake may have been beneficial, could not have withstood the wait for the selection of a new, appropriate wine while new scallops were cooked to join it. Our server should have looked in the window at the kitchen and said, " wait I told this guy lobster," then either send someone for a glass of wine to hit the table simultaneously, or ask the chef for a lobster off the other menus to go with the wine. Neither happened.

Those silly french

The "Michelin Guide to New York City 2006" was introduced last week to much hoopla. The second it
released, all of my forms of instant messaging started popping up with links
to lists. eater list

Here are my first reactions to the list itself, having not yet picked up a copy of the book.

1. These people care deeply about napkins.
2. What kind of grading curve has as many 1st place finishers as 2nd?
3. Spotted f***ing Pig?
4. Boy are these guys not local.
5. On such a small island how do you make a special trip anywhere?
6. Is the idea that reason to visit NY is Per Se? All towns that people travel from have malls with food courts don't they?

I am sad to say I have not been to all the starred restaurants on the list
and, not having known about Saul prior to it's release, I may owe a debt of
gratitude to Michelin for bringing it to my attention. I'll let you know.

That being said, how are Gramercy Tavern, Cru, and Picholine, on the same
list as The Spotted Pig, JoJo and Vong? The argument must be that these are
different kinds of restaurants and that Spotted Pig is the best Gastro Pub in
NYC. This would have to be because it is the only one in New York branding itself as
such. Drop in the tavern at Gramercy or the downstairs at Savoy and you will
surely see that there are plenty of gourmet bars far better, and better at
managing the crowds around the tables, in this town. Let's assume, then, that these undeserving examples appear because they are indicative of best of their type of restaurant. Where are Blue Smoke, Shake Shack, and Mr. Chow, then?

The Michelin reviewers themselves have made it obvious that French is what matters most
with their Bouley decision. Gramercy and Union Square are both equals of
Bouley on every level, the difference being that the former is French. So
why publish the book here in America?

Without greatly rewriting, here is how to fix it without spending many more
Euros: elevate Gramercy, Picholine, Nobu and, most of all, Cru to 2 stars. You will
have your four French, eight 2-stars, and a little room on the 1 star list for truly
deserving places like Hearth.