The stratospheric rise of Saison more or less mirrored the decline of French Laundry, the venerable institution that was once considered America’s best restaurant and just recently got kicked off of the world’s top 50 list (coincidentally not long after I went and gave it a mediocre review). When the French Laundry was in its heyday, Saison did not exist. In 2012, Saison was only a pop-up, and then catapulted to 3-star level in 2014. Today, it is the world’s 27th best restaurant. The sad truth about the Bay Area is for all of the lip-service for its gastronomy, it has few good restaurants to show for it. My blog has 13 restaurants in the Bay Area and almost all have disappointed. But as the land of Michelin stars requires, we booked far in advance and set aside a hefty sum to dine at Saison. 

Saison is the archetypal San Francisco restaurant, groveling in the nouveau riche who upturned the city. It tells patrons to wear whatever they’d like, abiding by the unwritten SF rule that that the worse you dress, the wealthier you are. The servers are still immaculately dressed as they serve young millionaires in short and t-shirts, a twisted attempt to de-emphasize pretense. Three tomes of drinks, one cocktail, one white and one red, provide an alternative to the $300 drink pairing, which would be on top of the $400 tasting menu. Unlike French Laundry which includes gratuity in its quoted price, a 20% gratuity is applied on top at Saison. The drink menus are bound in leather, reminiscent of the luxurious surroundings which remind of warm log cabins with furry animals on the walls. But it’s situated a few steps from where the Giants won something a few times, the offices of one particular Unicorn on the verge of IPO and a McDonald’s frequented by one of said Unicorn’s employees.

Unlike any other restaurant in its field, Saison does not have amuses bouche. Instead it pours you a glass of champagne (complimentary), which you can have with a tea made with herbs from its garden. It is rare that anyone would want to drink champagne while sipping a citrus-mint tea, though we might’ve missed the invitation to chug the champagne in advance so we could indulge in the wine pairing. However, our drinking was well timed for the caviar dish, where slightly smoked caviar is spread luxuriously on buttery biscuit with a creamy egg custard, topped with layers of Petaluma cheeses. With the champagne, the course felt like glorified afternoon tea which I certainly cannot complain about. I can say is that there are potentially more artistic ways to serve caviar, but they probably wouldn’t taste as good.

Then, out comes the chopsticks, foreshadowing the Asian influences ahead. The lobster dish was by all counts spectacular: rolls of pristine, uncooked sashimi-like lobster, sauce of “marigold” citronette. The opaque, raw form is juxtaposed against the cooked form, smothered in XO sauce and blushing in the redness gained from the heat. On the side, pristine and raisined cape gooseberry. Many times this meal, there are completely ridiculous, superfluous, lazy side dishes. This is one of them but the berries were good.

The sea urchin dish is potentially the best of the meal. It is served in nigiri style, the rice replaced with “liquid bread,” or bread dipped in a bread sauce. It is unclear the exact meaning of this, but it equated to some heart-clogging umami flavour that represented the height of the meal. In contrast, the radish dish acted as a palette cleanser, completely forgettable, with no need for the copious clarified butter poured over. Then the vegetarian dish, dubbed ratatouille, is reminiscent of the film of a peasantly French dish made to impress a mean food critic like me. The ratatouille itself was splendid; the eggplant side fell flat footed, lacking flavor and texture. But the largest gaffe in modern cuisine might have been the sea cucumber, which coincidentally came with a flavourless Chicharone of Sea Cumber. It was entirely unclear to all four participants what the dish was trying to achieve, as is normally expected when diners are asked to plunge into a gooey mess with indiscernible flavours.  

The main was pork, an elegant treatment of an often poorly prepared meat. Two pieces of pork belly and one larger cut of loin blushed pink, under a jus from its own roasting juices and crispy skin on top. Diners are presented with golden scissors to cut their own herbs overtop. What seemed like a cheap trick actually enhanced the meal, allowing patrons to supply their own range of herbaceous flavours to each bite. The herbs successfully balanced the fattiness of the pork.

The best course also might have been the last, which was made up of a cow's milk ice cream half melted by a dark and viscous homemade caramel, topped with crunchy chocolate nibs. The caramel has a mind of its own, creating its own path through the crevices of the ice cream, finally surrounding the icy mass around the bottom. To accompany, a hollowed orange receptacle for citrus buttermilk ice, with a leaf glued on to resemble momofuku’s iconic symbol. The citrus buttermilk ice cream is soft and creamy. Finally some glazed strawberries.

The dinner ends as it started, with barley tea not unlike any Japanese meal. It was easily better than the tea that began it all. A small capsule of tea is consolation for the price of the meal. A menu carries the official seal, but the seal doesn’t actually seal anything (which is fine). In the final calculation, the meal had four standout dishes (the lobster, sea urchin, pork, and ice cream) and one unpredicted disaster (sea cucumber). The length of the meal is a bit surprising, with 9 dishes (4 amuse-bouches counting the lobster as two; 4 main dishes, and 1 dessert) which is considerably under that of similar dining institutions. The first 3 dishes if categorized as amuses would count 4, in line with other similar restaurants, but would leave it with only 5 main dishes, vs a range of 8-11 for other similar restaurants. Were the first three dishes all counted as main dishes, it would only reach the lower end for main dishes (8 vs 8-11) and leave it with no amuses. It is rare that I include anything so numerical in the analysis, but the reason for the inclusion is the unprecedented shortness of the meal (tasting menus are often joked to be “hostage situations” where you pay your own ransom).

In the final analysis, there were enough reasons to go once. The food managed to be sufficiently differentiated despite not adhering to standard modernist techniques. There were enough attempts at greatness, and such greatness was reached a few times. There were obviously gaffes as well – the whole eggplant, the sea cucumber, forgetting to bring the wine list after being asked. But again, the meal being sufficiently strong to place among the countably best redeems the meal. The price tag, especially in context of the short meal, is unjustified and excludes any return. 

Almost 2 years ago, I visited San Francisco. Then, Napa and Sonoma were almost an afterthought, a day-trip for country-side relaxation. My newfound interest in wine is truly newfound. I went to one winery last time, and it was a random one owned by the Clif Family (same Clif as the protein bar). But I managed to take a photo at the legendary restaurant in Yountville – the best restaurant in America by many accounts, and the best in the world by other accounts. Whether or not it is still the peak of Gastronomy is up for debate. Has Copenhagen or San Sebastian, or Tokyo overtaken Thomas Keller’s American stronghold? In any case, this is still a top fifty restaurant (read 50th) and deserving of every foodie’s respect. Further it happens to be the hardest reservation to snag in America, potentially in the world. So two years ago, I settled for a photo of the front sign, driving by on my wine trip tour.

This time I had the good sense to stop and talk to the maître D’. Again, I had no reservations, as they are impossible to get, even if you time the 9am (make sure it’s Pacific Time) call perfectly, exactly 28 days in advance, as a certain friend will attest to. Instead I tried to get in by asking, like I had done at Tickets a year and a half prior. I won’t say what I had to do to get this to work, but I will say that I was walking halfway back to my car when the maître D’ chased me down and told me that he could make it work. So that changed the nature of this trip completely. I was going to dine at the most coveted restaurant in America. The French Laundry.

The restaurant itself is a bucolic cottage in Yountville. In the middle of wine country. It was placed there because of the propensity of food tourism in the region, says Keller.  Inside, the two story cottage-like setting is a lot like Arzak in San Sebastian. It is cozy, dimly lit, and actually, doesn’t scream best restaurant in the world. Outside the restaurant is the temporary kitchen as an old one is undergoing reservations. The staff is over 100, for a 60-ish top. Nothing compares with the service here. As soon as silverware drop to the 4 o’clock position, someone clears the plates. They’re all exceptionally intelligent and worldly, many of them working in the other Thomas Keller restaurants (read: per Se), and the so the conversation moved to my current residency near Columbus Circle. One joke surrounded a nearby watering-hole named “Three Star Diner,” which I commented was hopefully not Michelin stars and, they rebutted, was more like out of a hundred stars.

I have been delaying the writing of this entry as I am afraid my words will not do the restaurant justice. In many ways it is a difficult service as expectations are the highest they have ever been before a meal. That’s what happens when people line up for the opportunity to pay $300. The first few dishes are classics. An ice cream cone topped with salmon tartare and a gougère (a cheesy puff pastry). These aren’t the most extravagant amuses-bouches, or the most amusing in gastronomical lore. But the classic pairing of cheese and salmon is well taken. The next dish put the restaurant on the map. Oysters, tapioca pearls and caviar. The dish is an egg-based mousse (a “sabayon”). Eating it is a bit like a treasure hunt. On one side are soft, lukewarm oysters and on the other is a mountain of caviar. It’s hard to miss. The reason this dish is a classic is a combination of playfulness and simplicity – the interplay between the slippery oysters and pearls in a viscous sauce. The hen egg custard, another classic, follows and continues the all-out displays of luxury. This time, egg is served in custard form, interspersed by decadent truffles. A potato chip is paired. The continuation is foie gras, completing the holy trinity of luxuries. It is served with six types of salt from Hawaii, Japan, France and America. Without the salt, the taste is rather mundane, as “Rillettes” generally lack the texture and intensity of foie-gras proper. The trick is to add just enough salt to create a compelling contrast without making the dish too salty – perhaps a skill best left to the kitchen but can be adventurous to the diner. The main complaint of the dish was that the several garnishes failed to add anything to the foie-gras, already rich and overpowering. The price of $295 (all-included) is probably the best money spent all year, but the $40 supplement was probably the worst.

It is around now that the bread start coming. On offer is a butter-filled croissant that more or less melts in the mouth. Also available are four breads and accompanying butter. Apparently, one of the butters is made only for Thomas Keller and has only expanded as Keller’s restaurants grew. There are four mains before dessert. The first is a Mediterranean Turbot that is perfectly cooked but is not very exciting. The second is lobster, and likely the best lobster in the world. It is perfectly tender with no stringiness or chewiness that even other Top 50 restaurants have. It sits in a playfully financial-times pink maltaise sauce, which is hollandaise with oranges but judging by the colour is probably blood orange. The beets and citreous fruit add the well needed acid to cut through all the butter.

The quail dish is supposed to be a play on the “BLT”. There is nothing spectacular about bacon, lettuce and tomato and it is a feat to make it even palatable, and that is what was done here. But nothing brought it to fine dining status, least of which the bits of lettuce underneath the quail. Finally, the beef dish – a generous cut of “calotte” which is the fatty ring around the ribeye. That layer of fat is the cornerstone to this dish, creating what tastes almost like Kobé without the price tag. Instead of tender streaks of fat (marbling), it is more like a strip of fat that runs through the center. It is delicious, especially with the root vegetables and mushroom sauce – all to accentuate the earth sensation of aged beef. The only question mark is the crispy disk of potato wedges (“pommes maxim”) which adds no discernable flavor, is deep fried (in a dish that already has a lot of fat), and isn’t all that crispy. Toss that aside and the rest is magnificent. That is effectively all there is to write: dessert has never been and will never be a strong suit. There was the standard coffee and doughnuts and some delicious petits fours like crispy hazelnut balls but nothing you couldn’t get at an aspiring Michelin Star restaurant.

And so the dining experience at what some call the world’s best restaurant ends. The food is, indeed, excellent. The best dishes are the ones that use the most expensive ingredients, which Keller is able to exult and play with to perfection. The weaker ones involve multiple points of interest and where many different ingredients fight for dominance. It is clear that it is no longer the world’s best restaurant. More radical restaurants have come to the forefront of gastronomy, but many of their successes ricocheted off of Keller’s. That makes this tiny, bucolic cottage in the middle of wine country one of the most important restaurants to experience.

Salmon Cornets
gruyère cheese gougères

Oysters and Pearls
“Sabayon” of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters and White Sturgeon Caviar

Hen Egg Custard with Truffles

Élevages Périgord Moulard Duck Foie Gras “Rillette”

Honey Poached Cranberries, French Pumpkin Chutney, Garden Celery, Toasted Oats and Black Winter Truffle “Coulis”

Sautéed Fillet of Mediterranean Turbot

Smoked Trout “Brandade,” Melted Garden Onions, Wild Purslane and Malt Vinegar

Sweet Butter Poached Maine Lobster

Satsuma “Supremes”, Garden Beets, Wild Sorrel and “Sauce Maltaise”

Wolfe Ranch White Quail and Bacon “Pressé”

Tomato Marmalade, Preserved Green Tomatoes, Romaine Lettuce and “Béarnaise Gastrique”

Charcoal Grilled Snake River Farms “Calotte de Boeuf”

Black Trumpet Mushrooms, Braised Collard Greens, Roasted Garden Turnips, “Pommes Maxim’s” and “Crème de Champignons”

“Cave aged Comté”

Toasted Banana Bread, English Walnuts, Belgian Endive and Black Winter Truffle Infused Honey

Coffee and Doughnuts, Macarons, Hazelnut chocolate balls

Housemade Truffles

The umami of black cod coated in a sweet sauce. The tempura was so soft and flaky, as tempura should always be. Some very fresh sushi as a side.

Lunch set $28. Braised black cod with vegetable tempura, yuzu wasabi yogurt, sushi and your choice of tofu, miso soup or salad.

A respectable restaurant in the downtown of Sonoma in the French tradition. To start, a creamy rilette spread on crunchy toast. And finally, some black bread like that in Paris. The main was a delicate quail on an over-flavoured rice. Some cheeses for dessert.

$32 Prix-fixe

A relaxing, airy and light-drenched oasis with sole fish tacos and customary purple cabbage.

crispy petrale sole tacos

sweet and sour cabbage

cilantro and spicy aioli on warm tortillas

20 

Some chicken on dollops of perky yogurt to start (and on the house). A deconstructed ribeye rubbed in middle eastern herbs and spices, paired with perfectly portioned potatoes and turnip. Cooked perfectly tender and pink.

lamb loin
shiitake, cucumber, eggplant, cumin 29

Small plates that add up in price so quickly. Some questionable suggestions by the waiter, like a large collection of starchy potatoes.

Smoked potatoes with black garlic 10

Celery root and scallion cake with nettle and dried tuna 14

Kale with sunflower tahini, rye and yoghurt 12 

A beautifully creamy mushroom risotto with shaves of black truffles with a dollop of fresh buffalo mozzerela in the middle. Old style, pretentious French brasserie in a suited part of town.

HONEYCRISP APPLE & KALE SALAD
Fiscalini Cheddar Cheese, Wild Pecans, Tokyo Turnips
Radicchio & Radish, Apple Cider Vinaigrette 13.75

This cramped Asian fusion spot in a wryly part of town does some weird foodie items. In one meal, there is chowder, dumplings, scallops and salmon.

Sesame Soy Glazed Salmon                      16.00

White Shrimp And Chinese Chive Dumplings                             9.00

In this fairly corporate location, conversations range from investment banking to MBA to start-ups. They eat slippery pulled pork sandwiches and crunchy fries dipped in horseradish aioli.

Slow Braised BBQ Lamb Sandwich red cabbage & sweet onion slaw, house picked cucumber…14

The West Coast has made the $40 sushi lunch seem quotidian. Centred between Malibu and Beverly Hills, it is almost understandable. Shunji comes with its own charm – propped up in a cylindrical, observatory-like hut in the middle of an unseemly landscape. It is authentically Japanese though. The tea is Genmaicha; and the thirteen sushi are special and undeniably fresh.

Sushi Platter. $40.

A health nut’s paradise and undoubtedly “bougie”  and “artsy-fartsy”  with gluten-free pancakes, freshly-squeezed and protein pumped smoothies. In many ways, it epitomizes the LA life.

OPEN-HEARTED
Two gluten-free buckwheat-flax pancakes served with maple syrup 9
add fresh fruit + 1.5
add cashew whipped cream + 1

BRIGHT
Chef’s home brew Kombucha made with cold-pressed seasonal fruits and vegetable juices (8 oz.). Kombucha is a fermented beverage and may contain trace elements of alcohol
5.5

Alma

Is this possibly the best new restaurant in the United States? Infuriatingly, it has a no-show fee almost as expensive as the meal. But that doesn’t stop the patrons from crowding in the small, immaculate dining room. The menu is printed frivolously on lined school paper. The outpost is right in the middle of everything and nothing at all. It keeps the well-dressed patrons on their toes before settling. The tasting menu is so underpriced at $65 that it might be the best deal in town. Best is the pressed brick chicken with sweet mushrooms and the frozen duck liver which almost interrupts the meal halfway through - a well needed jerk to keep you concentrated on the marathon.

Tasting Menu $65

Snacks

Broken beets & apple with hazelnut & malt

Frozen duck liver with smoked maple, carrot & coffee granola

Roasted sturgeon with potato, pine & celery root

Pressed chicken with zinfandel, pear, turnip & celery root

Toasted oat & apple with cultured cream & thyme

This well-known Italian outpost on the edge of town might be LA’s favourite restaurant. It welcomes the starry and the trendy to a bustling, overfilled room and serve them an ‘eat, drink and be merry’ meal. Saturated in mindspace (e.g., its well known bone marrow served on gnocchi) it turns a couple of years old and settles down. But the food is still full of punch, if a little populist. Take, for example, a toast covered with veal tartare and then smothered in a stretchy sour mayonnaise. One might ask, how can that not taste good.

Roasted Marrow Bone. spinach gnocchetti. crispy breadcrumbs. aged balsamic.  14

Veal Tartare Crostino. shallots. parsley. lemon. capers. tonnato sauce.   14
Agnolotti alla Vaccinara. cacao pasta parcels with braised oxtail. burro fuso. grana padano. pine nuts. currants.   22

This Italian restaurant rated one of the top 10 restaurants in the United States offers a flight of vegetable mixes. Each salad is special but linked together by forceful flavours that make vegetables interesting again. How such diverse flavours can be extracted from peasantly veggies like beets and carrots is impressive. The bucolic flight is furthered by nuts, cereals and other goodies.

pear, fennel, pine nuts, colatura, scallions $11

CITRUS, SQUID, CASHEWS, CHILES $12

carrots, whipped ricotta, almonds, dates $12

beets, celeriac, pistachios, golden raisins $13

quattro scelte dai giardini - four choices from the gardens $42

Perhaps the best restaurant in Portland, the dessert is heart-clogging and scrumptious. The profiterole is filled with cool foie gras. Then, the chocolate cake that looks like a baseball steak is filled with caramel. Little pigeon stamped chocolates follow.

Foie Gras Profiteroles caramel sauce, sea salt $12

Chocolate Monkey Bread duck egg banana ice cream candied pecans $10

Literally a hut in a hipster street that has since expanded to New York. Thai music and thai language complete the authentic experience. The bar is overflowing with unseen-before herbs and weirdly labelled jars. The drinking vinegar, which comes in umpteen flavours, is amazing. It is a soda that is full of raw flavour and not too sweet. The food and the mess it creates quickly pile up and ornament the lodge-like, mishmash of a room. The noodles are filled with goodies like fatty pork belly. The hen is perfectly cooked with cool sauces.

Kai Yaang Half Bird 9. Charcoal rotisserie roasted natural game hen stuffed with lemongrass, garlic, pepper, and cilantro, served with spicy/sweet/sour and tamarind dipping sauces. The dish that was the original inspiration for Pok Pok.

Kung Op Wun Sen 16

Wild caught gulf prawns baked in a clay pot over charcoal with pork belly, lao, jiin, soy, ginger, cilantro root, black pepper, Chinese celery and bean thread noodles. Served with naan jiim seafood. The Chinese influeenc on Thai food in full evidence.

Cabezon. A famed seafood restaurant showcases a beautiful red centre of tuna on a bed of couscous.

Fries and aioli $5

Oysters ~ Cortes Island $250 or Shigoku $3 on the half shell with champagne mignonette

Tuna $25

This buzzing brunch spot serves a full-bodied mushroom soup with little specks of herbs on top and some sunny dollops of olive oil and a famous custard the size of a pie.

Cream of mushroom soup Cup  4.   Bowl  7.

Dutch Babies: baked pancake (please allow 20 minutes) 9 Classic: lemon, powdered sugar

The name reminds of the best restaurant in the US; it lives up to it. Beef tongue is unbelievably tender, comfortably basking in an herb spread, sitting on crunchy toast. The pickled vegetables net out the oiliness. The chicken is cooked perfectly.

Beef Tongue, house pickles, mustard and toasts $12*

wood oven Stokesberry Chicken, brussels’ sprouts, pancetta, potatoes $24*

Kale salad is piled high and adorned with apples, held together with a light lemon yogurt. The yogurt returns underneath a rolled lamb and some seasonal vegetables.

Salad of kale, apples, sunflower seeds, preserved lemon & yoghurt 13

Rolled lamb belly, rye berries, delicate & yellowfoot mushrooms 30

C Restaurant. The bayside seafood restaurant . The sablefish is deeply satisfying, with the odd crispy chip or roasted potato. Polka Dots  of green and yellow and a thin tar-black spread like it were on a painter’s palette act as the sauce.

Roasted Sablefish 
fingerling potatoes, pacific octopus, artichoke, saffron sauce $23

The authority of Vancouver sushi, whose chef apparently invented the California roll is situated in an awkward corner of the city and in a less-than-adorable room. The famous tuna sashimi appetizer rolls around in a perky wasabi soy sauce and rolls are inventively wrapped with egg (though the mixing of fish is suspect).

Tojo’s Tuna マグロのごまあえRegular 20

Chef’s Signature Dish - Tuna sashimi with special sesame and wasabi sauce

Golden Roll ゴールデンロール 26

Crab, scallop, wild Pacific salmon, and sweet shrimp rolled in an egg crepe with fish roe on top

$25 per person for one starter, salad, curry and stirfry.

Family style viet food is often spicy and always full of flavour. It comes with a wisp of sophistication that is often unseen in this genre of food.

The best new restaurant in Vancouver by some, this reservation-less shop has line-ups forming before open. It is worth it to take in the vegetarian delights, like the signature mushroom dish. The melange of a variety of mushrooms cooked in several ways come together effortlessly.

Mushroom

Seared King Oyster Mushrooms, Braised

Shallots, Confit Potatoes, Sherry Gel, Carrot

Meringue, Mushroom Jus (GF / V Option) – 19

A dabble of mushroom soup with foamy bubles make for a flavourful amuse-bouche. Then, the foie gras is so buttery and sweet, balanced out by a sticky jam (though the bread could have been harder). Generous slices of salmon flake off effortlessly, balanced by sturdy celeriac. Unfortunately, the steak and the dessert are nothing new.

$69 Prix-Fixe

Smoked foie gras torchon, chestnut jam, spiced bread [G]

Cured and confit steelhead trout, pine-scented celeriac, wild & cultivated cress, pine butter, roe [D]

Grilled ribeye, heritage potato ‘Lyonnaise’, Bordelaise sauce, truffles [D]

Molten chocolate cake, tonka bean ice cream [D]

In the open air drug market of the east side, the wealth and the hip step over the homeless to pay homage of Pidgin, one of the best new restaurants of Vancouver. rutabega noodles are flavoured by a miso paste and the fried chicken makes drumsticks a delicacy.

fried chicken wings 12

"dan dan" rutabega noodle salad, tofu, almonds 8

Unpretentious diners come to this relaxed restaurant and pay sky-high prices. A gargantuan rib-eye for two comes sliced and drenched in juice on a cutting board. Topped with peppery arugula. On the side, some specks of rock salt. On the side, parmesan grated on broccolini with a depth of flavour.

A rib-eye for 2 for ~$50

This hotel restaurant on the edge of the financial district does fast-paced lunches for time stretched suits. The shaved beef sandwich disintegrates too quickly but the fries with homemade ketchup and parmesan flakes are delectable.

25 Prix Fixe

Arugula Salad / Lemon Vinaigrette

Daily Rotisserie. "Spit-Roasted and Smoked"/ Parmesan French fries

Bag of Warm Cookies and a Coffee to Go

Enroute’s pick in Calary this year, Carino mixes Japanese with Italian. Again, in a downsized, unpretentious Japanese drinking house, dry ramen come with buffalo mozzarella and prosciutto and unagi is topped with foie gras. It makes for some interesting, if overly forward, flavours.

Red Wine Brasised Sea Eel $28 – Seared Foie Gras, Braised Daikon & Parsnip Purée

Ramen Salad $14 – Arugula, Prosciutto, Bocconcini Cheese, Gull Valley Cherry Tomato & Shiso Pesto

It is unexpected that a midwest city not too far from the corn belt and industrial midlands wouldhave such a well rounded restaurant scene. Much of the food celebrity there is owed to Alinea, which is easily top 50 in the world and potentially the best in North America. Without the luck to secure a reservation at one of the most difficult to in the world, we settled for two alternate culinary institutions.

Grace, the other a three-star restaurant, is located in effectively Chicago’s culinary star walk (The Girl and the Goat is next door). The entrance feels definitively small-town like, the door obscured by a curb-side parking lot and camouflaged into a row of nondescript commercial real estate. Grace written in cursive etched into the wall is even less descript. The dining room is austere luxury. Tables in the middle that could seat parties of 6 are left for only couples, providing for seating that resembles a cruise show and the kitchen separated by the glass is the main event. The room is dimly lit, in contrast to the luminous kitchen. 

To begin, three ceramic cups that roll around like Matryoshka dolls swing like a pendulum, stabilized by the soft grey cloth of the table. All three are delicious and a good start to this kind of restaurant.

The first spectacular course is the first course, packaged in a yogurt glass. A small smudge of yogurt is smeared on the foil that enclose the glass of yogurt. It’s mostly a cheap trick, but I’m not complaining. The paprika yogurt is viscous and warm; it wouldn’t remind you of a yogurt if not for the context. A soft steam floats out and when it dissipates, reveals a beautifully arranged collection of chanterelles and a small cylindrical block of rabbit in the same yogurt sauce. It has the artistic appeal of aboat in a bottle. It tastes the part too, with the milky yogurt loaded with paprika enough to cleanse the nostrils, with a punch of sourness to balance the chanterelles and pressed rabbit meat. 

The next dish is just as impressive looking. A tuile (shard) of sugar encloses a cone-shaped glass bowl. Foliage and roe rest on top, and mixes with the crab below when cracked with a spoon. Like the previous dish, everything is intricately arranged though it’s more or less a mess by the time you start eating it, the little shards of sugar providing an interesting counterpoint to the crab and herb mix. Altogether, it tastes like a very fresh salad that you might get at a Japanese restaurant, where sweet salads are in vogue. It also tastes so fresh that it almost veers on tasting dish-soapy, probably from the punch of the sudachi fruit, which has a similar taste profile as a Meyer lemon. 

The next dish is a tuna carpaccio, also intricately decorated with coconut, cashews, pearls, but is undifferentiated in any way. It is unclear why this is even a dish in an otherwise ambitious line-up. It is a small blip on the radar: the next dish is visionary. It’s a rillette of lamb in a sauce of red pepper but what makes it exceptional is a strip of bitter dark chocolate that somehow pairs beautifully with the lamb. the secret is that there is nothing sweet about the chocolate. It is deep, dark, bitter - a piece of culinary mastery in its own right. To use it in a main dish is exceptional. 

From there are two mains that fail to live up the start of the meal. The truffle dish is oily, filled with carbs and unctuousness without anything to balance it out. it resembles something you’d get at a gastropub that you would need to down with beer. A few slivers of black truffle go to complete waste, competing against potato ravioli. The last of the mains is a very good cut of beef that is much too small to put up with all the watermelon, beets and iceberg lettuce (iceberg lettuce?). If a beef is very high quality, it should be allowed to stand on its own, not overwhelmed by other sauces. This was a dish that should have had a larger portion of a lower quality beef. It also felt a little cheap, especially in the context of the $235 price tag of the meal. 

Desserts begin with two sorbets: blueberry and passionfruit, reminiscent of the French ice cream shop of the Île de la Cité, which is to say it was very good. 

The final amuse is a little modernist cuisine ball of what is best described as a citronella cough medicine, which tastes a lot better than that description.

So with that ends a meal at another 3 Michelin star restaurant that is easily one of the top dining experiences in the world, yet is not perfect. It is also relevant to point out that the wine list is extremely good value. The final bill works out to be about $350 a person after wine, which is a good deal below Saison ($550) and French Laundry ($450 after substitutions). There were enough spectacular dishes to elevate the experience to art, and the misses were not disasters, just not exceptional. These days that’s all you can expect.

RABBIT

chanterelle, smoked paprika, GREEN GARLIC

ALASKAN KING CRAB

sudachi, cucumber, LEMON MINT

BIG EYE TUNA

caviar, coconut, PURSLANE

LAMB

red pepper, squash, MÂCHE

BLACK TRUFFLE

prosciutto, porcini, CHIVE BLOSSOM

MIYAZAKI BEEF

watermelon, black sesame, SHISO

MARIONBERRY OR TOKA PLUM

BLUEBERRY

raspberry, croissant, BUBBLEGUM HYSSOP

CHOCOLATE

pistachio, lemon, MINT