thomas keller – the ulterior epicure

The bread fairy always calls thrice at The French Laundry.

First, arrives a beautifully glazed brioche bun. It’s got Lana Turner’s curves with the coloring of Sophia Loren after a summer on the Riviera.

Then, a basket of mini baguettes and whole-grain wonders, all of which I overlooked in favor of the pretzel roll with its shiny, elastic skin and salt freckles.

And finally, you’ll graduate to the sliced selections, studded with dried fruits and nuts. These go well with your cheese course towards the end.

Of course, if you spring for the foie gras supplement, you’ll also get a second helping of brioche – this one a toasted tranche of leavened air made entirely of butter. It’s the kind finely crusted wonder that leaves you orbited by a halo of crumbs, a holy aura of the golden-brown and delicious variety. Linger a couple of minutes and a fresh slice arrives, warm.

If you’re anything short of indulgent, this carb-tastic excess will leave you curating a fine collection of half-eaten bread. The variety is just too great. Don’t forget the butters – one from those famous dairy cows in Vermont, the other from dairy cows in Petaluma, California.

This is just one example of how The French Laundry pampers, cossets, and overwhelms in the most unbelievable way.

* * * * *

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Fate brought me back to The French Laundry.

The restaurant wasn’t included in my original plans. In fact, I had no intention of leaving the city at all on my recent visit to San Francisco. As far as a month and a half before my trip, all of my reservations had been set; all of them in the city.

Or so I thought.

But, like a cascading deck of dominoes, a number of unexpected events left me with one of the hardest tables to get in America.*

I’ve been pretty honest and outspoken (maybe a little too much so) in the past about what I think about the food that has come out of Keller’s kitchens and the kitchens of his restaurants’ alumni.

Precise but soulless has been my conclusion (some might characterize it as an indictment).

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“Calotte de Boeuf Grillee”
The French Laundry

But this latest meal at The French Laundry was different. It was, if not soulful, immensely satisfying.

I can’t say that I loved every dish that I tasted that night, but I can say that, overall, the food was adventurous, playful, and full of wit. It brimmed with so much personality that the impeccable execution of the dishes seemed less the focus, rather the icing on the cake. At its best, the food was indulgent, delicate, beautiful – ingenious. Coupled with excellent service, the entire experience was magical. And I’m not saying this simply because my friend and I found an empty ledger on the tab at the end of our meal (more on this later).

So, who is this young Texan who dazzled me at The French Laundry this time?

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Sweet Onion “Flan”
The French Laundry

At the age of 30, Timothy Hollingsworth has already collected a list of accolades that would put most established chefs to shame. At 28, he represented the United States at the Bocuse d’Or in 2009, placing sixth – tied for the best showing our country’s had at that prestigious, international culinary competition. At 29, he ascended to top toque in Yountville, succeeding Corey Lee as chef de cuisine of The French Laundry. And earlier this year, I saw him accept the coveted title of Rising Star at the James Beard Awards in New York.

I knew, even before I arrived at The French Laundry, that Hollingsworth wouldn’t be in the kitchen that night. On a pit stop at Bouchon Bakery before our dinner, I spied him sitting out on the patio of Bouchon with his friends. But this bothered me little. I assumed that the menu would be his, and was assured that the restaurant would ultimately stand on the merits of the team he trained and oversaw on a daily basis. If he was truly that good, so too would be his cooks.

Halfway through our meal, the maitre d’, Larry Nadeau, offered to take me into the kitchen to meet Devin Knell, the very capable executive sous chef and acting chef de cuisine for the night.

My dining companion and I decided to each order a different menu and share our dishes. She ordered the “Tasting of Vegetables,” I the “Chef’s Tasting.” Each menu came with a few choices.

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Salmon Creek Farms “Tête de Cochon”
The French Laundry

Other than requesting that the signature “Coffee and Doughnuts” dessert be added to her menu, my dining companion left all of her choices to the chef.

I was a bit choosier. As between the “tête de cochon” and quail, I wanted the former. As between chocolate and peaches, I wanted the latter. And, could I swap out my cheese course for the Italian blue on the Vegetable Tasting? Yes, of course I could. I left the remaining two choices up to the chef to decide. My only other request – which I had called in a few days ahead – was that the first course on the Chef’s Tasting – Keller’s famous “Oysters and Pearls” – be replaced with something else.

Here is what we had (CLICK HERE to see all of the photos, or on each course title for the individual photo):

***

Canapés

Warm Gougères

Avocado Cornet (Vegetable Tasting)
Lime and tuile.

Salmon Cornet (Chef’s Tasting)
Crème fraîche and sesame tuile.

1st Courses

Sweet Onion “Flan” (Vegetable Tasting)
Mission fig, Sicilian pistachio “nuage,” and rosemary essence.

Hokkaido Bean Curd “Panna Cota” (Chef’s Tasting)
Meyer lemon granité and white sturgeon caviar.

2nd Courses

Compressed Summer Melons (Vegetable Tasting)
Fennel bulb, Niçoise olive, arugula, and basil yogurt.

Moulard Duck “Foie Gras en Terrine” (Chef’s Tasting)
Silverado Trail strawberries, Piedmont hazelnut streusel,
Radish, watercress, and black truffle.
Warm brioche and a flight of salts.

3rd Courses

Salad of Toybox Tomatoes (Vegetable Tasting)
English cucumber, young ginger, white sesame,
Perilla shoots and bonito gelée.

Japanese Sea Eel “en Escabèche” (Chef’s Tasting)
Sunchokes, Jingle bell peppers, Niçoise olives,
Cape gooseberries and parsley.

4th Courses

Chanterelle Mushrooms “Á La Grecque” (Vegetable Tasting)
Red radish, Hawaiian hearts of palm, and cilantro oil.

New Bedford Sea Scallop “Poêlée” (Chef’s Tasting)
Pickled onion, raisins, Marcona almonds, and fennel bulb.

5th Courses

Fairytale Eggplant “En Persillade”
Summer squash, jingle bell peppers, parsley, and sweet garlic pudding.

Salmon Creek Farms “Tête de Cochon” (Chef’s Tasting)
Quail egg, petite lettuce and “Sauce Gribiche.”

6th Courses

Hand-Rolled Beet “Tortellini” (Vegetable Tasting)
48-hour brisket, fingerling potatoes, petite lettuce and horseradish crème fraîche.

Snake River Farms “Calotte de Boeuf Grillée” (Chef’s Tasting)
Red beets, chanterelles mushrooms, Swiss chard, parsnip “mousseline,” and “sauce raifort.”

7th Courses

“Casatica di Bufala” (Vegetable Tasting)
Roasted Belgian endive, toasted pecans, grapes and verjus.

“Quiche” (Vegetable Tasting)
Blu del Moncenisio cheese, Asian pear, pickled cauliflower, and red wine reduction.

8th Courses

Armando Manni Olive Oil Sorbet (Vegetable Tasting)
Muscavado sugar “genoise,” French Laundry garden summer berries
30-year aged balsamic vinegar.

Jacobsen’s Farm Ambrosia Melon Sorbet (Chef’s Tasting)
Summer melons, “Moscato d’Asti” and garden mint.

9th Courses

“Coffee and Doughnuts“
French Laundry doughnuts and “Cappuccino Semifreddo.”

10th Courses

Valrhona Ganaja Chocolate “Marquis” (Vegetable Tasting)
Goat’s milk mousse, Bing cherries, Thai long peppercorns, and cassis sorbet.

“Peaches and Cream” (Chef’s Tasting)
Santa Rosa plums, pine nut nougatine, and Tahitian vanilla bean-basil ice cream.

Petits Fours

Chocolates
Caramelized Macadamia Nuts
Pecan Pie

The French Laundry Shortbread

***

Whereas I would say that the Chef’s Tasting was, for the most part, satisfying and solid, with a couple of particularly stunning courses, the Vegetable Tasting was utterly inspired.

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Hand-Rolled Beet “Tortellini”
The French Laundry

Let’s just assume that everything was properly cooked and plated (because, unless otherwise noted, it was) and focus instead on the highlights.

From the Chef’s Tasting, the New Bedford Sea Scallop “Poêlée,” was, by far, my favorite course. Forget for a second that the scallop was predictably well-cooked, glistening with the beurre monté in which it was rested. Consider, instead, the wonderful collection of flavors and textures that came with it. There were meaty, marinated raisins; crunchy Marcona almonds; and crisp, pickled onions, all of which were tied together with a slightly sweet, emerald-green sauce perfumed with fennel. Exquisite.

Keller’s signature calotte – the cap of the ribeye – was the ultimate beef experience (Snake River Farms “Calotte de Boeuf Grillée“). This same cut of meat from Snake River Farms was served the first time I ate at The French Laundry in 2006. This time, it seemed even juicier, more flavorful, and more tender than before. The marbling was mind-blowing. A perfect meeting of excellent product and excellent technique, it was an illustration of how the food at The French Laundry, at its best, can be so simple, yet so spectacular. That plate could have arrived with that strip of meat alone without fault.

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“Peaches and Cream”
The French Laundry

And a beautiful half-dome of Frog Hollow peach, pitted and glazed, was as soft as custard, as sweet as nectar (“Peaches and Cream“). Paired with rich vanilla bean ice cream imbued with basil, and a wonderfully fragrant pine nut nougatine, this dessert was breathtaking in every respect.

What made the Vegetable Tasting so amazing was the unexpected level of complexity that Hollingsworth was able to achieve in what seemed like rather innocuous compositions. The highs on this tasting menu were higher and more intense than successes elsewhere.

The “Salad of Toybox Tomatoes” was stand-out. Deceptively precious, this colorful assortment of gems offered a tremendously complex dialogue of sensations. Lightly pickled, the tomatoes burst with a surprising amount of flavor. With crunchy crystals of candied ginger, dots of white sesame emulsion, and nubs of demi-sec tomatoes, this salad not only appeared in technicolor, but tasted technicolor.

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New Bedford Sea Scallop “Poêlée
The French Laundry

Sweet Onion “Flan” achieved an exciting world of flavors in a simple gathering of four or five ingredients. The dramatic presentation aside, the quick smoking of the figs added a layer of welcomed sophistication.

And the Armando Manni Olive Oil Sorbet? Creamy, rich, floral, buttery, peppery – n.b. it is a sorbet. The muscavado “genoise,” aged balsamic, and gin gelée accentuated the extra virgin olive oil’s darker side. Amazing.

But, as I suggested above, the meal wasn’t entirely flawless.

I thought the lemon granité in my caviar course was a bit abrasive. The acidity overwhelmed both the delicate tofu “panna cotta” and caviar (Hokkaido Bean Curd “Panna Cota”). The shaved ice also numbed my tongue to both flavor and texture. That’s no fun when you’re showcasing something as luxurious as caviar.

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Chanterelle Mushrooms “Á La Grecque”
The French Laundry

And, I normally love the saliva-inducing marriage of salt and acid, but the “Chanterelle Mushrooms ‘Á La Grecque‘” were a bit too acidic and way too salty. Á la Grecque as a condiment, perhaps; but à la Grecque as a dish – too aggressive, too much. Pity, because the mushrooms were otherwise perfect – tender, silky, excellent. I wish I could have tasted them.

Service, however, was spotless, and, for once at a Keller top table, I was put entirely at ease. Guillaume, our affable server, and the rest of the staff seemed to appear and fade seamlessly along with our food.

Pacing was perfect. Like clockwork, the interval between each succeeding course seemed to lengthen by just a hair, allowing for digestion to work its magic.

The meal started with two flutes of Champagne, compliments of the house. It ended with strong coffee. In between, my dining companion enjoyed a half bottle of white wine chosen by the sommelier – the Nigl Riesling Privat, 2007.

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Jacobsen’s Farm Ambrosia Melon Sorbet
The French Laundry

There were snacks fore – a duet of cornets, gougères twins – and aft – assorted chocolates; those famously crunchy caramelized macadamia nuts; and, appropriately, from a kitchen helmed by a gourmet Texan, mini pecan pies kissed with BLiS maple syrup.

There are many chefs who can execute and cook food flawlessly. Timothy Hollingsworth and his cooks are clearly among them. But what sets chefs like Hollingsworth apart is the ability to create a galaxy of flavors in a heavily edited roster of ingredients, and do it all with a dash of wit and creativity throw in.

Machines may be able to replicate with precision more consistently than humans, but humans have the blessed ability of stirring emotions, creating meaning, developing rapport. Given a choice between the two, I’ll take personality with a side of perfection. And that’s exactly what I found this time at The French Laundry.

The intensity and impact of the most successful dishes at this dinner made up for the gaps in between, and managed to eclipse the few flaws here and there. (I’ve appended some “notes and scribbles” about the other dishes at this meal.)

Hollingsworth’s food isn’t just haute couture on a plate – a finely hemmed pageant to be strutted across the table and then forgotten. His food shares with you a sense of place, time, and persona. It made me want to eat and discover more of his cooking. I will remember it.

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“Coffee and Doughnuts”
The French Laundry

Distracted by the entertaining birthday four-top left sharing the room with us at that late hour, I didn’t notice my dining companion fumbling with the bill for quite some time. I handed her my credit card without much thought.

She turned to me. There must be some mistake. The only thing listed was the half bottle of wine she ordered.

After picking our jaws up of the floor, we split the tab and left what I hope was an unembarrassingly sufficient tip. There are simply no slide scales for such incalculable generosity.**

Wherefore this unexpected benevolence? I haven’t a clue. It’s the second time this has happened to me at a Keller restaurant, and I sincerely hope it will be the last.

To chefs Keller, Hollingsworth, and Knell, and the staff of The French Laundry, many thanks. You are truly a class act.

The French Laundry
6640 Washington Street
Yountville, California 94599
707.944.2380

*** Michelin

* Originally, I was supposed to have dinner with three friends at aziza, Mourad Lahlou’s Cali-Moroccan restaurant in the city’s Richmond district. I had, regretfully, missed it on my last trip. But, a few weeks before I left for San Francisco, aziza called to inform me that there had been a mistake and that the restaurant was closed the night I had a reservation. Unfortunately, they had to cancel it.

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The French Laundry
Yountville, California

Left scrambling for a last-minute reservation, one of my dining companions urged me to ditch the city go with her to wine country instead. Unfortunately, this meant that the other two wouldn’t be able to join us for dinner. But they urged us to go without them. I had lunch with them instead.

Cyrus? Meadowood? ubuntu?

The French Laundry didn’t occur to me at all. That is, until a couple of encouraging reports from lizziee at Refined Palate piqued my interest in Timothy Hollingsworth’s cooking. I called on a whim and, as expected, was put on the waiting list.

Cyrus? Meadowood? ubuntu?

I emailed a few friends who had been to those restaurants for their advice. A consensus achieved, I made a reservation.

I had all but forgotten about The French Laundry when the restaurant called a little over week before my trip. There was a cancellation. And, apparently, one of my good friends – a chef and very good friend of Hollingsworth’s – had called the restaurant on my behalf. To him, I owe a big thanks – you know who you are, and I will get even with you.

** But wait, there’s more: when I received my credit card statement, the price of the wine that I split with my dining companion wasn’t charged to my card. Only the tip that I left was run through.

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Before I could unpack from San Francisco, I was re-stuffing my suitcases for New Orleans.

The “dinner of the decade,” is how they billed it, and I had a seat.

But before I get to the event (which will come in a subsequent post), first, a little back-story, which operates as both disclosure and a disclaimer:

* * * * *

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Friendships and acquaintances develop out of the strangest circumstances. Never would I have thought, after my experience at Stella! in January, and especially after my blog post about that experience, that Chef Scott Boswell and I would become so well-acquainted with one another so quickly.

Though I was flattered by the attention he showered on me, I shied away from his many invitations at first.

But Boswell does not take no for an answer.

His motto is “go big or go home.” His enthusiasm is, if not relentless, infectious. His persistence is, if not dedicated, endearing. Add to him an irresistibly charming wife – Tanya – and you’ve got yourself quite a persuasive package.

A few months ago, I received an invitation to attend a fund-raising dinner that Boswell was hosting at Stella! to benefit the Barrier Islands Reclamation Development Society (B.I.R.D.S.) and Bocuse d’Or USA. The guest chefs for the event included Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Jerome Bocuse – three key players in the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation. The entry fee: $2,000 per plate. It sold out in a matter of hours.

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Gumbo File
New Orleans, Louisiana

About a month before the dinner, Boswell called me.

Why wasn’t I coming?

I gave him a laundry list of very real excuses. Besides, wasn’t the event sold out anyway?

He insisted that I be his personal guest to the event – there was an empty seat with my name on it.

Absolutely not, I insisted. How could I justify taking up a seat that might raise a lot of money for the beneficiaries?

He wanted me there.

After a lengthy back and forth, with me refusing at every turn, I finally caved and told him that I would come only if I could find decent airfare at that late time, and only if he would allow me to make a healthy donation to the Bocuse d’Or (which I did).

Thank you, Southwest Airlines, for encouraging irresponsible, last-minute travel, unbudgeted expenditure of calories, and charitable donations.

Hotel? Boswell said that he had already booked and paid for two nights at a hotel for me.

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Faulkner House Books
New Orleans, Louisiana

I told you: he doesn’t take no for an answer.

The fund-raising event was on Tuesday, September 14. But Boswell had me fly down to New Orleans the day before.

That first night, I was invited to a private dinner at Stella! with the guest chefs, their sous chefs, and a handful of friends and spouses. Scott Boswell cooked for us.

The following night, Boswell, together with the guest chefs, cooked a multi-course dinner to a packed house of donors and members of the press.

I am incredible honored to have been included at these two dinners. Thank you, Chef and Tanya Boswell and the team of Stella! for two magical nights in New Orleans. You are gracious and generous hosts.

In between the two meals, there was much grazing and drinking.

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d.b.a.
New Orleans, Louisiana

There were late-night (or was that early-morning) rounds at d.b.a., a bar in the Faubourg Marigny district, where Glen David Andrews had the house sweaty with dance fever.

I revisited Cafe du Monde a couple of times to see if my opinion about their beignets and chicory coffee would change.

I escaped, unscathed, from the surly muffaletta man at Central Grocery, Co., with a gigantic sandwich as my prize.

And I finally had my long-awaited date with the “Stella! Uptown” at Stanley, a sundae made after my own heart: rum raisin ice cream, carrot cake, cream cheese sauce, whipped cream, and walnuts. Oh, and there was a cherry on top too.

Write ups and reports about all of these adventures are to come. I’ll hyperlink them below as I get them posted.

Cafe du Monde
Central Grocery, Co.
d.b.a.
Stanley
Stella! (Private Dinner)
Stella! (B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or USA Dinner)

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What do you serve to Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Jerome Bocuse when they arrive together at your restaurant for dinner?

That’s a question that Scott Boswell recently had to answer.

The night before the B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or dinner, Chef Boswell and his team hosted a small, private dinner for the guest chefs, their sous chefs, and a few friends at Stella!

I was extremely honored to have been invited.

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Daniel Boulud
Stella!, New Orleans

There were about 20 of us seated in the Chartres dining room at Stella! that night, an intimate and cozy gathering.

Because I was a guest, and because I respect the privacy of my fellow guests, I won’t go into too much detail about the dinner other than to share the menu with you and a few notes about the food (i.e. I acknowledge that objectivity may be even less achievable than normal; this is not a “review”). Suffice it to say, I was in great company and enjoyed getting to know everyone.

Dinner was initiated by a short speech and toast by Thomas Keller. It ended with a round of applause for Scott Boswell and his staff, who came into the dining room for a well-deserved bow.

Here is our menu for that night. CLICK HERE to see all of the photos in the set, or click on the course titles below for the individual photos.

* * *

Amuse Bouches

Watermelon Sashimi
Canteloupe, seven fleurs de sels, and wasabi honeydew.

Cornmeal-crusted Frog’s Leg
Tomato jam and chipotle butter.

J. Lassalle, Brut, 1er Cru, Chigny-les-Roses, France

1st Course

Scallop Sashimi
Pickled cucumelons, yuzu, radish salad.

J. Lassalle, Brut, 1er Cru, Chigny-les-Roses, France

2nd Course

Risotto
Shrimp, andouille, shiitake, and scallions.

Tement, “Grassnitzberg”, Berghausen, Styria, Austria, 2006

3rd Course

Miso and Sake Glazed Japanese Mero Sea Bass
Udon, green tea and soba noodles,
Canadian lobster, blue crab and shrimp broth.

R. López de Heredia, “Viña Gravonia,” Crianza, Rioja, 2000

4th Course

Yuri-Juro Kobe Beef
Korean barbecue-glazed Yuri Juro Kobe beef, tempura okra, purple haze carrot,
seared Japanese yam, and baby bok choy.

Talenti, “Vigna del Paretaio”, Riserva, Brunello di Montalcino, 1998

5th Course

Bananas Foster French Toast
Tahitian vanilla bean ice cream, spicy candied walnuts and crisp plantains.

Mignardises

* * *

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Daniel Boulud
Stella!, New Orleans

I’d venture to say that everyone in the party would agree that the “Yuri-Juro Kobe Beef” was the highlight of the dinner.

Due to a devastating outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease among Japanese cattle, Japan banned the export of Kobe beef in April of this year. Although all had hoped that the disease could be curbed and contained quickly, the situation seems only to have worsened.

But Chef Boswell had a stash of Kobe beef that he had ordered before the meat was embargoed. Sealed air-tight, the beef had been aged for over 250 days.

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Yuri Juro Kobe Beef
Stella!, New Orleans

The cut of meat came smothered in a thick “Korean barbecue sauce” that offered a wonderful balance of sweet, sour, spicy, and savory. To say that this meat was tender is a gross understatement. You still needed a knife to cut it, but it practically melted away in your mouth.

I often find Kobe beef too rich, too much. Despite the rather heavy treatment here, this dish managed to stop shy of overkill and linger in luxury.

The beef was accompanied by a delicious tempura-fried okra, a candy-sweet nugget of roasted Japanese yam, and some baby vegetables that had been donated by Farmer Lee Jones of Chef’s Garden. It was excellent.*

Dessert might have been overkill, but I wasn’t going to object.

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Thomas Keller
Stella!, New Orleans

There are many adjectives that I could attach to the “Bananas Foster French Toast” at Stella!, beginning with buttery and ending with fantastic. I loved this dessert when I had it at Stella! in January, and I wasn’t going to turn it away when it arrived again.

It seems almost silly to say that service was very, very good. Well, it was.

Our wines were poured and presented by John Mitchell, Stella!’s shockingly young and faultlessly upbeat sommelier. The most memorable pour of the evening for me was the “Charleston Sercial, Madeira, The Rare Wine Co. Historic Series,” which was surprisingly savory, a perfect brine for our sweet ending.

Linger a little? Sure, why not?

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The Usual Suspects
Stephen Baldwin & Daniel Boulud

Laugh a lot? We sure did.

After dinner, Chef Boswell introduced me to his personal Sir Francis Walsingham, a young man I’ll call Lex Luthor (no one gives away the name of a ninja). The night still young, Lex took a few of us out for some good music and drinks.

Thank you, Chef and Tanya Boswell and the entire house at Stella! for welcoming me back like a rock star and hosting such a lovely dinner party.

Stella!
1032 Chartres Street
New Orleans, Lousiana 70116
504-587-0091

* If I’m not mistaken, Chef Boswell said that the Kobe beef dish is available on the dinner menu at Stella! for $90 a plate.

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“Chef.”

That is the title afforded to every member of the staff in a gentleman’s kitchen.

I recently had the honor and pleasure of being in the kitchen with four extraordinary gentlemen by the names of Bocuse, Boswell, Boulud, and Keller. Watching them orchestrate the “dinner of the decade” at Stella! was not only a rare treat, but more significantly, a lesson in civility and dignity.

“Oui, chef” is how Daniel Boulud and Thomas Keller respond to each other when they are in the kitchen together. “Oui, chef” is also how they respond to their sous chefs and cooks. In their kitchen, there is a chain of command. But above all else, there is mutual respect.

* * *

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* * *

I had gotten in late the night before (well, it was actually the wee morning) and was up early for a beignet breakfast at Cafe du Monde with a couple of the sous chefs, followed by a visit to a farmers’ market. Thereafter, I spent the rest of the day at Stella! watching them and the rest of the staff prep for the B.I.R.D.S. and Bocuse d’Or fund-raising dinner that night.

A lot happened between 6 p.m., when the event started, and midnight, when the party nominally ended. To give you a detailed recounting would be boring and a little too self-absorbed. Instead, I’ll sketch the night, pausing to dote on a few personal highlights. (If you want to read a great overview of the event, Judy Walker of the Times-Picayune, whose small frame perched on a stool in the kitchen and scribbled on her notebook all night, penned an informative article for the paper.)

The evening started with a cocktail reception in the garden of the Ursuline Convent, a block away from Stella!

Despite the warm, humid mid-day, it had mellowed into a pleasantly balmy evening with a slight breeze. The blue skies couldn’t have been more blue.

Media were afoot – cameras, field reporters, journalists. And designer gowns and tailored suits – who each paid $2,000 each to attend – air-kissed one another with cocktails in hand.

After a round of introductions and a few speeches, two checks for $50,00 each were presented, one for B.I.R.D.S. and one for Bocuse d’Or USA.

Cue the applause.

Cue Jeremy Davenport live.

And cut to B-roll of guests resuming their mill-about.

Servers circulated hors d’oeuvres. They included Thomas Keller’s famous salmon cornets, set in a specially designed tray, and beautifully burnished squares of brioche sandwiched with a fine, frog leg boudin blanc studded with black truffles.

Two of the more curious creations came from Daniel Boulud and his sous chef Greg Stawowy. There were cubes of raw hamachi enveloped in clouds of meringue stained garnet with beet juice. And there were warm and comforting cromesquis de tête de veau impaled with mini basters that cleverly doubled as handles and a delivery mechanism for sauce gribiche.

Scott Boswell served true Kobe beef, which I got to taste at a dinner the night before, in Korean-style “spring rolls” spiced with kimchee.

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CLICK HERE to see all of the photos from this meal, or click on the course titles for the individual photos. Here are the hors d’oeuvres presented by the chefs at the Ursuline Convent:

* * *

Ursuline Convent Reception

Thomas Keller

Cornet of Marinated Scottish Salmon
Red onion crème fraîche.

Chilled Soup of Jacobsen’s Farm White Nectarine
Riesling “pearls” and Marcona almond nuage.

Louisiana Frog Leg Boudin Blanc en Brioche
Tart cherry relish.

Daniel Boulud

Hamachi with Soft Beet Meringue

Tartelette of Louisiana Blue Crab
Carrot, cumin, coriander, and lime.

Cromesquis de Tête de Veau
Sauce gribiche.

Jerome Bocuse

Foie Gras à la Mangue

Scott Boswell

Asian Prawns, New Orleans-Style

Korean BBQ Japanese Kobe Beef Summer Rolls
Napa cabbage kimchee and Louisiana citrus BBQ butter

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Elbows well-rubbed, guests adequately liquored, and with dinner ready to be served, a brass quartet at the convent’s gates struck up “When The Saints Go Marching In.” As guests followed the musicians out of the convent, they were given a white napkin to wave in a second line march to the restaurant.

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Here is the dinner menu:

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B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or Dinner

1st Course
Melon Sashimi (Boswell)
Seven sea salts, soy and miso powders, wasabi honeydew, and sweet soy sauce.

M. Chapoutier, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Blanc, “La Bernardine,” France, 2005

2nd Course
Mariani Orchards Late Harvest Stone Fruit (Boswell)
Candied Louisiana pecans, aged balsamic vinegar, and petite basil and mint ice cream.

M. Chapoutier, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Blanc, “La Bernardine,” France, 2005

3rd Course
North Star American Caviar (Boswell)
Scrambled egg mousse and accoutrements.

Charles de Cazanove, Champagne Brute Rosé, France N.V.

4th Course
Lobster à l’Américaine (Bocuse)
Slivered snow peas, leeks, and black truffles.

Domaine LeFlaive, Puligny-Montrachet, Burgundy, France, 2007

5th Course
Hazelnut-Crusted Louisiana Sea Bream (Boulud)
Tasmanian black truffles and tasting of cauliflower.

Faiveley, Gevrey-Chambertin, Burgundy, France 2006

6th Course
Elysian Fields Farm Lamb en Persillade (Keller)
Caramelized fennel bulb, confit bayaldi, sweet garlic tortellini and Niçoise olive jus.

Lokoya, Cabernet Sauvignon, Diamond Mountain, Napa Valley, California, 2006

7th Course
Grilled Cheese “Sandwich” (Boswell)
Robiolo Bosina, cherry compote, “golden honey gelée,” toasted walnut oil, and petite greens.

Taylor Fladgate 20-year Tawny Port

8th Course
German Chocolate Cake (Boswell)
Coconut sorbet, caramel and frozen chocolate mousse.

Taylor Fladgate 20-year Tawny Port

Migardises
Chocolates
Nougats
Caramels
Marshmallows

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A sold out event, the headcount hovered around seventy.

Tanya Boswell, my gracious hostess, put me at a table with three extraordinary individuals, whose company I could not match with my own. To protect the innocent, I’ll simply refer to them as Harpo, Tabasco, and McManus. A last-minute round of musical chairs switched out McManus for a wonderful southern gentleman I’ll call Vermillion. Of them, I beg forgiveness for my between-course absences, when I disappeared into the kitchen to watch the next courses get plated.

Pacing was perfect. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of watching Thomas Keller expedite, you’ll know why he is so revered and respected. Under his control, the kitchen seemed to operate on autopilot; calm, steady, and smooth. Everything happened like clockwork.

Service was truly excellent. The staff didn’t miss a beat. Tap (Fiji) or sparkling (Badoit), your choice was poured, regardless of what your tablemates were drinking. An arsenal of silverware was coordinated and deployed for each course, not a tine out of place, or chopstick missing. Wine glasses too, were filled at each turn by the sommelier, John Mitchell, who presented and poured the wine pairings. And, with all of my up-and-down during the dinner, the servers must have gone through a hamper worth of linens just for me, replacing my napkin anew for each round-trip flight (I am not proud of my carbon footprint for that night).

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All of the dishes were very good. But I’ll linger a while on three in particular.

One of Boswell’s opening dishes, “Mariani Orchards Late Harvest Stone Fruit,” was as delicious as it was beautiful. This salad of perfectly ripened plums and peaches (and nectarines too?), surrounded by a blushing moat of velvety fruit soup, dripped with nectar. Served chilled, the dish was topped with a twirl of waxy Bellota ham. A wonderful collection of colors, flavors, and textures, this composition was sexy, lovely, and simple

Bocuse’s “Lobster à l’Américaine” probably shaved a good five years off my life. I’ll die early, but immensely happy.

The sauce a l’Americaine, which was poured around the lobster at table, was incredibly rich, thickened with cream (and probably butter), and intense with lobster stock. It was the last word on bisque. The lobster tail, which was set over a bed of silky, blanched leeks, was tender and moist, pre-cut into sections for the convenience of the diner. Strips of black truffles garnished the bowl. A page from the Old World, this was excellent.

Keller’s “Elysian Fields Farm Lamb en Persillade” was spectacular, in part because of the wine pairing, to which I award best in show.

De-boned, the rib chop had been rolled, cooked sous vide, and then coated with a layer of breadcrumbs mixed with parsley and garlic (i.e. en persillade). The lamb was extremely tender and faintly musky, which I love. The accompanying “biyaldi” (i.e. a tomato paste-driven ratatouille), together with the Niçoise olive sauce, was an extraordinarily intense wallop of Provençale flavors.

Alone, the lamb dish was very, very good. Together, with the Lokoya, Cabernet Sauvignon, Diamond Mountain, Napa Valley, California, 2006, it was stunning. (Red, juicy meat + jammy California cab = I’m so predictable.)

After the last dessert was finished, an army of chocolates and petits fours were marched out to the tables, along with gift bags stuffed with goodies, including a signed menu.

The chefs came through the dining room to receive their applause and to thank everyone. I note that Thomas Keller walked through the room and shook every single person’s hand, patiently stopping for photo ops along the way.

The dining room cleared, the chefs retreated to the kitchen to sign menus for the staff and to pose for photos.

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Thank you Scott and Tanya Boswell, for being such gracious hosts. Thank you, John Mitchell, Lorie Oustelet, Daniel Dilberger, Luis Ochoa, and the staff of Stella! for giving me a license to roam (that’s code for “getting in the way of servers and taking up precious kitchen space”). It was a magical evening.

I also note that Farmer Lee Jones (whom I dub the vegetable Santa) of Chef’s Garden, with whom I had the pleasure of dining the night before, and with whom I had the pleasure of standing in the kitchen during this night, donated much of the vegetables for the dinner. Farmer Jones, you too are a gentleman.

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Since landing in the U.K. over a week ago, I’ve had a pretty amazing trip to Europe so far. I’ve been busy eating, seeing old friends, and making new ones.

Today, Wednesday, January 26, the United States sends Jamal James Kent of Eleven Madison Park to “the box,” along with his commis, 22 year-old Tom Allan at this year’s Bocuse d’Or competition in Lyon, France. In an intense, five-hour cooking session, they will present two “platters” to a panel of judges from around the world.

The U.S. has never made it to the podium at this international cooking event. Its highest placement has been sixth.

I have had the great opportunity of being included by Kent and his coaches – Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Gavin Kaysen – in a lot of the team activities here in Lyon in the past couple of days. And I’ve had the pleasure of photographing it all.

For this thirtieth photo of the week, I give you Jamal James Kent in the early morning hours in the kitchen of Paul Bocuse’s family home and now-restaurant, l’Abbaye de Collonges in Collonges, France, where the American team has been practicing and prepping for more than a week. Good luck, Team U.S.A.!

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Thanks to an amazing group of people, whom I thank below, I was afforded a rare, behind the scenes look at the final days of Team U.S.A.’s year-long journey to the Bocuse d’Or competition in Lyon, France.

Although I arrived a spectator, with hope of little more, I was unexpectedly welcomed and included by the American team and one of their sponsors (All-Clad) to the point of embarrassment. Treating me like a member of the family, they threw open their doors, inviting me into the kitchen during their final trial runs, giving me press privileges, and more. I’m truly humbled by the access and opportunities they offered.

In the spirit of their generosity and hospitality, I share this incredible experience with you.

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Bocuse d’Or

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Bocuse d’Or, here’s a brief primer:

This international culinary competition was founded in 1987 by Paul Bocuse, the legendary French chef whose eponymous restaurant in Pont de Collonges is the longest-reigning Michelin three-starred restaurant in the world.*

The competition has taken place biennially since, and, together with the Coupe du Monde (an international pastry competition), it serves as the centerpiece and highpoint of Sirha, a food exposition that finds Lyon the epicenter of the food world for one amazing week.

The Bocuse d’Or is limited to twenty-four countries, most of which have to qualify in their regional “baby Bocuse” competitions. Each country sends one candidate and one commis (an assistant). The commis must be under the age of twenty-three.

Each candidate has five and a half hours to prepare a fish platter and a meat platter, both of which are presented to an international jury comprised of one chef from each of the twenty-four countries. The twenty-four jury chefs draw lots; half of them judge the fish plates, the other half judge the meat plates.

In addition, there are two honorary jury members – the Honorary President of the Bocuse d’Or (this year, Yannick Alleno, a past candidate for France and the current chef of le Meurice in Paris),** and the Honorary President of the International Jury, who is the last winner of the Bocuse d’Or (this year, Geir Skeie of Norway). These two honorary jury members are the only two people who get to taste both the fish and the meat plates, though neither of them have a voting voice.

The twenty-four jury members score each country’s presentation on a scale of sixty possible points. Forty points are allotted to taste. The remaining twenty points are allotted to presentation. The highest and lowest scores for each candidate are struck, along with the score from their own country’s jury member.

The competition spans two days (twelve countries compete each day) and culminates in an award ceremony at the end of the second day. Six awards are given out: one for the highest fish presentation score, one for the highest meat presentation score, one for the “Best Commis,” and the three grand prizes for the highest composite scores (bronze, silver, and gold).

This year, the Bocuse d’Or took place on Tuesday, January 25 and Wednesday, January 26. The United States competed on the second day.

Some trivia:

France has topped the podium the most, having won nine trophies, six of which have been gold.

Norway follows closely with eight trophies, four of which have been gold.

Both Belgium and Sweden have now been to the podium five times each. Belgium has never won gold. Mattias Dahlgren won a gold trophy for Sweden in 1997.

In 1989, Léa Linster became the first (and only) woman to win the Bocuse d’Or. She is also remains the only Luxembourgeois to visit the podium.

The United States has never made it to the podium. Its highest placement has been sixth: once in 2003 by Harmut Handke, and the second time in 2009 by Timothy Hollingsworth, who is currently the chef de cuisine at The French Laundry.

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Team USA

At a competition held at the Culinary Institute of America in February of 2010, a panel of American chefs selected James Kent, sous chef at Eleven Madison Park, to represent the United States at the 2011 Bocuse d’Or. Kent tapped 22 year-old Tom Allan, also a cook at Eleven Madison Park, as his commis.

In the following year, the two trained in special kitchens configured to replicate the competition kitchen at the Bocuse d’Or (Bouley in New York and The French Laundry in California).

Coaching Kent and Allan were the last two American candidates to the Bocuse d’Or: Gavin Kaysen, currently, the executive chef of Cafe Boulud in New York; and Timothy Hollingsworth, currently, the chef de cuisine at The French Laundry.

Team U.S.A. also included two assistants – Mark Erickson, a dean at the Culinary Institute of America, and Dan Catinella, a stagier and student at the French Culinary Institute – both of whom traveled to Lyon to help Kent and Allan prepare for the competition.

This year, the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation was chaired by Daniel Boulud. The president of the foundation was Thomas Keller, who also represented the United States to the international jury table at the Bocuse d’Or in Lyon (he judged the meat presentations).

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Day 1: Monday, January 24

Team U.S.A. had already been in Lyon for a week and a half by the time I arrived from Paris.

Paul Bocuse had opened his kitchen at l’Abbaye de Collonges to Team U.S.A. for their final days of training and preparation. This “abbey” is a restaurant and event space built around the Bocuse family homestead. Situated along an idyllic stretch of the River Saône, about three miles outside of the Lyon, it’s just down the road from Bocuse’s more well-known restaurant, Restaurant Paul Bocuse.

Far on the other side of the city is Eurexpo, a mammoth convention center and home to Sihra and the Bocuse d’Or. Getting there was a schlep. Those who didn’t have cars had to take the underground train to Vaulx-en-Velin la Soie and then transfer to a shuttle to get to the convention site.

The city, saturated with nearly a quarter-million Sihra attendees, was overwhelmed with traffic. Getting to and from Eurexpo during rush hour, whether by car or shuttle, was a crawl. I understand that Lyon is currently building a dedicated train line from the city to Eurexpo, slated to open in time for the next Sihra and Bocuse d’Or in 2013. If they successfully meet that deadline, I hope it will significantly streamline the commute.

I arrived at Eurexpo just in time to watch the award ceremony for the Coupe du Monde (Spain, Italy, and Belgium – in that order). Shortly thereafter, I made a quick sprint through the newly built Paul Bocuse Hall with Team U.S.A. before being whisked off to dinner.

We all piled out of our taxis and into l’Est, one of Paul Bocuse’s four compass brasseries in Lyon. There, we had Serrano ham and salad, steak and cod, and a host of desserts, including a wonderfully spongy baba soaked with a boozy lime syrup, and a pile of buttery gaufrettes served with hot chocolate, whipped cream, and apple sauce.

At the end, a mountain of warm madeleines arrived atop a stack of meringues. I looked to my right at Daniel Boulud, who was home again, and smiled.

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Day 2: Tuesday, January 25

As the first day of the Bocuse d’Or commenced, Team U.S.A. finished their preparations in a quiet kitchen on the other side of the city.

L’Abbaye de Collonges is beautiful.

It’s a meeting of old and new, a preservationist’s dream. Inside is Paul Bocuse’s grandmother’s kitchen, intact and untouched. There is also a grand dining hall, flamboyantly dressed with a fairground motif to complement an amazing Gaudin mechanical organ from 1915 (you can read about this organ’s history on the abbey’s website). Every hour, it would pipe up in a rousing round of song and dance, whirring and clicking at the direction of Paul Bocuse in effigy, a whisk in one hand, a wooden spoon in the other. It was high culinary camp. Great chefs around the world, including Daniel Boulud and Thomas Keller, were celebrated on plaques posted high on the walls above the dining room.

I arrived in the earlier hours of the morning to find Kaysen labeling and organizing a heap of boxes and supplies.

In the kitchen, Kent and Allan worked calmly and quietly, with Erickson and Catinella by their side. I was humbled by the respect and collegiality amongst them. Despite the focus and intensity, they remained relaxed and limber, stopping every so often for a laugh and a spoof.

Arriving a little later, with cameramen in tow, were Heidi Hanson and Chris Warner, the Emmy -nominated and James Beard Award-winning documentary team best known for their series, “Chefs A’Field.” They had been hired by the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation to document the American team’s year-long journey to Lyon.

Heidi and Chris generously adopted me into their crew, putting up with my amateur ways and letting me ride along with them.

Around noon, I decided to get out of the team’s hair and headed up the road to Restaurant Paul Bocuse for a long lunch (that post to come).

I returned to the abbey in the afternoon to find the team wrapping up their prep work and running through their checklists. A moment of Christmas visited the abbey kitchen in the late afternoon when a courier arrived with a box of herbs and vegetables from faraway Huron, Ohio, an anxiously anticipated delivery of produce from The Chef’s Garden.

Around five o’clock, with speed racks filled and safely stored, we sped off towards Eurexpo, hoping to make a publicity group shot of all of the chefs, coaches, and jury members. It was a truly epic assembly of toques.

The kitchens having been cleared and cleaned from the first day of competition, the twelve remaining teams were allowed into their assigned “boxes” for the first time to check their equipment and configure their spaces as needed.

Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud came by to part last-minute notes and good wishes before heading off with the international jury members and other esteemed chefs, like Jean-Georges Klein of l’Arnsbourg and the perennially hatted Marc Veyrat, to the Hotel de Ville to attend a grand gala hosted by the mayor of Lyon.

Team U.S.A. headed off to another one of Bocuse’s brasseries for dinner, this time, with the compass pointing to l’Ouest.

There, Daniel Humm, executive chef of Eleven Madison Park, and Will Guidara, the general manager of Eleven Madison Park, both of whom arrived from New York earlier that day, joined the team to host and toast their colleagues.

While the team carb-loaded on pasta, I had a beautifully cooked filet of salmon coated with a rich cream sauce threaded with fresh dill and sorrel. And before that, a patch of mâche, ringed by meaty artichoke hearts and skinned tomato wedges.

Early to bed, early to rise.

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Day 3: Wednesday, January 26

It was dark and snowing when we arrived at the abbey at 4:30 a.m.

I’ll never forget the sight and sound of Kent walking into the kitchen that morning, wearing an ”NYPD Homicide Squad” t-shirt under a Ralph Lauren fleece and blasting “Gonna Fly Now” (a.k.a. the “Rocky” theme song) on his iPhone.

While the boys loaded their prep work onto the truck, Catinella made the team breakfast: scrambled eggs; home fries; and delicious, bespoke bacon that Kaysen had brought from the U.S., glazed with honey from Mrs. Obama’s White House apiary.

Most of the teams arrived at the Paul Bocuse Hall at the same time, around 6:30 a.m.

In the two hours before the competition, the hall filled with bullhorns and cow bells (I’m looking a you, Switzerland), and flags of all different colors.

Newly built and inaugurated for this year’s Bocuse d’Or, the Paul Bocuse Hall seated 2,400 spectators at this event. At the very front of the seating area, with the best view of the action, was a narrow trench reserved for the press. Behind it were the sponsor boxes, spacious and comfortable. Behind the sponsor boxes was a stretch of VIP seating, and on the upper deck, general admission.

Team U.S.A. was assigned to box 8, between the teams from the United Kingdom and Malaysia, the latter of which was the only all-female team in the competition’s history.

The stands facing the American kitchen filled with families and friends from all over our country, including a corps of notable chefs, among whom were Roland Passot of La Folie, Paul Bartolotta, Alain Sailhac of the French Culinary Institute, Scott Boswell of Stella!, and, Daniel Humm of Eleven Madison Park.

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At 8:30 a.m., Tommy Myllymaki of Sweden, in box 1, began cooking, followed by the rest of the teams in ten-minute intervals.

Around ten o’clock, I kicked off to grab an early lunch at a special presentation by Christian LeSquer in the Nespresso VIP suite.

I returned to the Paul Bocuse Hall shortly before noon, when all of the members of the press were forced into that narrow pen, immobilized for the next three hours. To show you how insanely crowded it was, I took this photo of Heidi Hanson a few yards down from me. I was smashed between Joshua David Stein, then-senior editor of Eater National, and a surly television cameraman from Poland, who made my head the subject of a malevolent round of Whac-a-Mole every time he swung his camera to the right.

This year’s Bocuse d’Or featured products from Scotland. For the fish presentation, each candidate was given two Scottish monkfish (each weighing 5 kg), four crabs, and 20 langoustines. For the meat presentation, each candidate was required to prepare two Scottish lamb saddles (each weighing 3 kg), lamb kidneys, and a shoulder of lamb. Additionally, the candidates had rice and lamb tongue at their disposal.

At 1:30 p.m., Sweden presented the first fish platter, followed by the rest of the countries at ten-minute intervals. The order was repeated at 2:05 with the meat platters.

Each platter was carried by a couple of MOFs (Meilleurs Ouvriers de France***), first paraded in front of the judges, then passed by the press. The platter was then taken to a side table, where the presenting chef, having come out of his/her box, plated fourteen individual portions – one for each of the twelve jury members, and one for each of the two honorary jury members. Another plate was assembled and walked by the press. This process was repeated with each platter.

Despite a couple of minor traffic jams, the timing was surprisingly smooth, with platters coming at a manageable pace.

The platters, all of which were custom-made for this event, ranged from the Philistine to the refined.**** Understandably, polished chrome was a popular material, as was glass. The Scandinavians, I noticed, seemed especially keen on using mirrors and liquid nitrogen.

Visually, the most memorable platters included the Danish fish presentation, which was a dazzling display of smoke and mirrors (literally). Flooded with flashes from the press, it appeared like a diamond necklace, glittering, brilliant. His meat platter was equally stunning.

The German fish platter was absurd and arresting at once, a curved, double-decker piece of metal with rows of forks and cylindrical placeholders.

The Swedish lamb platter was a creative take on a rotisserie, with a strip of lamb “turning” above a box of “fire.”

The Norwegian lamb platter walked a fine line between primal and prissy. The saddles rested in rib cages above a beautiful garden of greens, as orderly as Diane de Poitier’s garden.

Unfortunately, only the international jury members can compare the presentations by taste.

On Team U.S.A.’s platters, Kent and Allan tried to convey their American culinary heritage, taking the international jury to New England with a clambake and oysters Rockefeller, and to a steakhouse with creamed spinach and baked potatoes.

The American platters were designed by BMW, with “New York” as inspiration. The fish platter, for example, was designed to evoke the shores of Sag Harbor, home of James Kent, with a curving row of pier poles lined with fresh seaweed.

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Of course, we all know that the United States didn’t make it to the podium this year (I’ve listed the final standings HERE). Scandinavia swept the trophies, with Denmark, Sweden, and Norway finishing in that order.

Rusmus Kofoed, this year’s winner had competed twice before. In 2005, he took the bronze statue home. In 2007, he won the silver trophy. Skipping the 2009 Bocuse d’Or, he opened Geranium, a restaurant in Copenhagen, and gained his first Michelin star. He returned to the competition circuit in 2010, winning the Bocuse d’Or Europe and became the first chef to enter the Bocuse d’Or for a third time. He arrived in Lyon vowing to complete his family of statutes. He left successful.

In what was, to me, the most touching moment of the entire event, Maiko Imazawa, young and petite, was named the “Best Commis,” a woman in a sea of men. It took her a few minutes to get to the podium, the crowd tearing up with her. Her prize was a ceramic goose, nearly her equal in size.

Although I was disappointed to see the United States miss the podium, I’m buoyed by the spirit and attitude of our team. Having spent a couple of days with Kent and co., both inside and outside the kitchen, I can confidently say that the United States could not have assembled a more positive and professional group of chefs to represent them on the international stage. I congratulate them on their accomplishments, not the least of which was making me proud to be an American.

I am confident that Mssrs. Kent’s and Allan’s names will not rest with this post. I look forward to their bright futures.

In the meantime, I turn to 2013 and hope to see our starred and spangled on that podium in Lyon.

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My time in Lyon would not have been possible without the help and support of: Tom Allan, Monica Bhambhani, Scott Boswell, Tanya Boswell, Jerome Bocuse, Daniel Boulud, Lisa Callaghan, Wilman Colmanares, David Paul DeArmey, Heidi Hanson, Daniel Humm, Gavin Kaysen, Thomas Keller, Jamal James Kent, John Sconzo, Lucy Vanal, Bruno Verjus, Magdelena Walhoff, and Chris Warner.

* Restaurant Paul Bocuse received its third star in 1965 and has held that honor every year since.

** In 2009, the Honorary President of the Bocuse d’Or was Daniel Boulud.

*** The bid for the Meilleurs Ouvriers de France was the subject of a recent documentary called “Kings of Pastry.” I highly recommend it.

**** Although I was able to photograph most of the platters on the second day, you can find a photo of all of the platters and the plated dishes on the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation’s website.

PHOTOS (from top to bottom): Tom Allan, Gavin Kaysen, and James Kent in the foggy window at l’Abbaye de Collonges; Chef Paul Bocuse at the Bocuse d’Or 2011; Thomas Keller and James Kent at Brasserie l’Est in Lyon; James Kent, through a window in the morning light at l’Abbaye de Collonges; Tommy Myllymaki (Sweden, silver), Rasmus Kofoed (Denmark, gold), and Gunnar Hvarnes (Norway, bronze) atop the podium at the Bocuse d’Or. To see all of the photos I took at the Bocuse d’Or, CLICK HERE.

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Hyde Park, New York really is as beautiful as they say it is. Even with the trees stripped bare against those bald, russet hills in winter, the Hudson River Valley is breathtaking.

To Greystone I’ve been twice, but never to The Culinary Institute of America (CIA). So, when I was asked to photograph the Bocuse d’Or USA competition there in late January, I didn’t think twice.

But I couldn’t go all the way to Hyde Park without enjoying the city too. So, I bookended the Bocuse with meals up and down the Manhattan grid. And boy, did I have a good time.

And then to Chicago I went, to catch up with some friends, at tables old and new.

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A year comes full circle.

Last January, I walked into the Paul Bocuse Hall in Lyon, a lucky spectator, to watch James Kent, his coach, Gavin Kaysen, and his commis, Tom Allan, compete on behalf of the United States for the Bocuse d’Or. A starry host of America’s finest chefs traveled to France to cheer them on.

This January, I entered the recreation center at the CIA as the official photographer for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, happy to find that same group of toques reassembled, ready to select a new candidate to represent our country in 2013 (the Bocuse d’Or competition is held every other year).

To increase awareness of the Bocuse d’Or among young cooks, this year, a Commis Competition (open to cooks ages 23 to 27) was added to the competition weekend. Unlike the Bocuse d’Or competition held on the second day, where competitors would be required to cook and present both a fish and meat plate, the competitors in this first annual “mini Bocuse” only had to cook and plate their version of one, predetermined dish for the judges. This year, the hall filled with the whetting smell of vinegar, as the four Commis competitors reduced the sauces for their version of poulet au vinaigre (chicken with vinegar sauce). Rose Weiss, a culinary extern at Gramercy Tavern and student at the International Culinary Center in New York City, took first place, winning a three-month paid apprenticeship at a Michelin three-starred restaurant of her choice in France.

On the second day, whole cod and whole chickens were given to the four chefs competing for this year’s Bocuse d’Or USA title. After five and a half hours of cooking, Richard Rosendale’s versions were judged the best. So, he, a veteran of the culinary competition circuit and the executive chef of the Greenbrier in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, will go to the Bocuse d’Or competition next January with his commis, Corey Siegel, and coach, Gavin Kaysen, with the hope of becoming the first American to make it to the podium in Lyon.

You will find most of the photos I took at the competition in a gallery on my website.

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The first night of the competition weekend, at a dinner hosted at the CIA’s student-run Escoffier Restaurant for the Bocuse d’Or culinary council and competitors, I snuck away from the table between courses to watch the students in the kitchen through a stunning, brick arch window in the lounge. During one of these mid-meal breaks, Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Jerome Bocuse went into the kitchen to thank the students for their work. The look on those students’ faces when the chefs walked in was priceless.

Beyond having the honor and privilege of photographing the Bocuse d’Or USA competition, what I valued most about my weekend at the CIA was being reminded of youthful aspiration. There are few sights more endearing than the young with their heroes. The campus swarmed with bright-eyed hopefuls, lining up to get their books signed, to have their photos taken, and the chance to thank those who paved the way for them.

The weekend ended with a gala under the beautiful, vaulted canopy of Farquharson Hall. A few of the culinary council members cooked, including George Mendes, who made bacalao with smoked chickpeas and sofrito, and Shaun Hergatt, who made a delicious barlotto (barley risotto) with truffles.

At the far end of the hall, there was an unforgettable parade of pastries by the talented Francisco Migoya: boozy babas (my favorite), jars of marshmallow knots in cocktail flavors (gin and grapefruit!), canelés, a half dozen different macarons (chestnut! goat cheese!), éclairs, opera cakes on sticks, a phalanx of chocolate bon bons, just to name a few.

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New York is the city that never sleeps, and I am its happy attendant, eager to eat its every hour.

I went to Dominique Ansel’s new bakery in SoHo for kouign amann and canelé (formerly the pastry chef at Daniel). But it was his éclair and dark caramel tart that impressed me when I got there. I highly recommend them.

Macarons beckoned me to the new Ladurée on the Upper East Side, where they were celebrating the company’s sesquicentennial with a new line of “Incroyables.” They aren’t so incroyable if you ask me. These macarons are piped with marshmallow fluff, rendering the centers sticky and chewy, everything a macaron shouldn’t be. But the regular macarons I sampled were pretty incroyable, even if my favorite flavor, the réglisse, remains in exile.

Speaking of macarons, I spent an afternoon in the kitchen at The Modern with pastry chef Marc Aumont, making curiously green ones. We piped the meringue cookies with a dark chocolate-pistachio ganache infused with lemongrass. They were awesome. Sufficiently pumped with sugar, I sprinted home, showered, changed, and sprinted back for dinner in the dining room with friends. At the end, chef Aumont presented us with a mountain of the macarons we made earlier. That was a fun day.

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Gramercy Tavern was packed on a Monday night. We were glad to see chef Michael Anthony back in good health, after having open-heart surgery late last year. Have you had his smoked trout? You should have his smoked trout.

On the Upper West Side, I went to John Fraser’s Dovetail.

Down in the East Village, I went to Torrisi Italian Specialties.

At Eataly, I dropped a small ransom; my first and second visits.

I stopped in at le Bernardin for a snack, just to see the new interior. My, what an improvement.

On the corner of 28th and Broadway, I took a hardhat tour of Daniel Humm’s upcoming restaurant in the NoMad Hotel. We went downstairs into the kitchen, lined with shiny subway tile, and upstairs to some of the finished rooms designed by Jacques Garcia, rich with textures and colors, claw foot tubs, and velvet screens. I want those wood floors in my house, that crown molding on my ceiling. It’s a Parisian throwback, and it’s going to be a looker.

I had breakfast at Maialino, lunch at Boulud Sud, and a late-night glass of wine with friends at Master Sommelier Laura Maniec’s new wine bar, Corkbuzz (not in that order, and not all on the same day).

And, I had an epic, five-hour lunch at Eleven Madison Park with my friends the Wizard of Roz and Mr. RBI, which left me scrambling uptown at six o’clock for a home-cooked dinner. I arrived at my friend Alessio’s place just in time to watch him slice into a terrine of foie gras and dump two trays of sea urchin into a pot of pasta. His wife Lucille popped open a bottle of something older than I, and our friend Jessica arrived with a chocolate soufflé cake topped with liquored cherries. I tell you, those concert musicians know how to eat. Miraculously, I found room for two plates of pasta and more.

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Lunch at Jean Georges, dinner at Charlie Trotter’s kitchen table, with a nap in first class in between: That was a good day.

The city of my college years extends a familiar welcome that no other can. It’s my home away from home. So, after a week of averaging three hours of sleep a night in New York, I relished the opportunity to sleep in and sleep often; to catch up in Chicago.

In between naps, I went downtown for tortas at xoco and noodles at The Slurping Turtle. In the West Loop I got a peek inside Curtis Duffy’s upcoming Grace.

I am fascinated by hipsters. So, I went to Logan Square on hipster safari, where I found hipsters and highchairs at Lula Café, and hipsters in plaid – a whole bar full of them – at Longman & Eagle, five deep, tickling each other with their mustaches. And just up Kedzie Avenue, I ate at Matthias Merges’s yusho, perched high at his bar. Beware the dismount, it’s a far ways down. But, truly I tell you, it was one of the most rewarding meals I’ve had in a long time.

I wrapped the trip up at The Purple Pig, an unusually quiet dinner on Super Bowl Sunday. Afterward, I went night shooting in Lincoln Park, just the moon, the crackling, crisp air, and me. I do miss those Chicago winters.

When I write about the following restaurants, you’ll find the links here:

New York

Boulud Sud
Dominique Ansel Bakery
Dovetail
Eataly
Eleven Madison Park
Escoffier (Culinary Institute of America)
Gramercy Tavern
Jean Georges
Maialino
Modern, The
Torrisi Italian Specialties

Chicago

Charlie Trotter’s
Longman & Eagle
Lula Café
Purple Pig, The
Slurping Turtle, The
xoco
yusho

Photos: Bocuse d’Or Culinary Council members at judges’ table: Barbara Lynch, William Bradley, Alan Wong, Roland Passot, and Scott Boswell, Hyde Park, New York; the Bocuse d’Or Culinary Council and Board of Members at the Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park, New York; Richard Rosendale, winner of the 2012 Bocuse d’Or USA competition, The Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park, New York; The Modern pastry kitchen, New York, New York; Torrisi Italian Specialties, New York, New York; Lincoln Park at midnight, Chicago, Illinois.

* A special thanks to: Monica Bhambhani, Lucas Watkins, Chris Hultman, Alessio Bax and Lucille Chung, John Balz and Erica Simmons, Gavin Kaysen, Curtis Duffy, Matthias Merges, Michael Muser, Gabe Ulla, Matt Duckor, The Wizard of Roz and Mr. RBI, George Mendes, James Kent, Mike Castillo and Teresa Aguilera, Shawn Gawle, Mark Welker, Graham Elliot Bowles, and Marc Aumont.

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Having now spent nearly two weeks, collectively, at The Greenbrier photographing for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, I have learned one thing: at The Greenbrier, anything is possible.

On my first visit in July, the executive chef, Richard Rosendale (who will be the United States’ competitor in the upcoming Bocuse d’Or competition in Lyon, France in January), told me about a freak storm that blew through the Allegheny mountains, where the resort resides, right before the annual Greenbrier Classic PGA tournament this summer. Multi-story grandstands were flattened, two-hundred year-old oak trees were uprooted, and the tri-state region was left without electricity for days – in some parts, weeks. The PGA authorized the resort to cancel the event. But The Greenbrier carried on.

With the help of residents of the surrounding area – most of whom already work for the resort, but also many who pitched in for free – within forty-eight hours, the courses were cleared, the grandstands resurrected, and Rosendale and his team reorganized all of the food services, relocating to the famous underground Bunker, where there was a generator.

The tournament was mounted (with a $6.1 million purse). Toby Keith, The Fray, and Bon Jovi all played. Thousands came and went.

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What sets The Greenbrier apart from other resorts and hotels of the same scale and scope in The United States (the themed palaces on Las Vegas’s Strip, for example) is its age. Visitors have been visiting The Greenbrier, formerly known as the “Old White, after the famous white sulphur springs on property, since 1778, just two years after the founding of the United States.

And with age, comes history and tradition.

The Greenbrier is called “America’s resort,” an appropriate name for a place that has seen such a tremendous amount of American history pass through its grounds.

During the Civil War, the hotel was occupied by both the North and the South, used as a hospital. During the Second World War, it was leased by the U.S. government and used as holding grounds for foreign diplomats who were waiting to be exchanged for U.S. diplomats abroad.

Due to its proximity to the nation’s capital, it has been, from very early on, favored by politicians. Woodrow Wilson played golf on the Old White TPC, one of three courses on the resort’s 6,000-plus acres, shortly after it was constructed. And, later, The Greenbrier was chosen as the site of a secret relocation bunker for members of Congress in case of nuclear threat. Tunneling hundreds of feet into the side of the Allegheny, beneath the main hotel, the bunker remained a secret for thirty years. It was finally made known to the public in 1992.

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At The Greenbrier, you will find vestiges of past grandeur rarely found in the United States.

One of the most impressive examples that I witnessed was the hotel’s gold dinner service, a near-extinct display of opulence attributable only to the Gilded Age and the robber barons. I’ve only experienced gold service twice in my life before – once at Alain Ducasse’s three Michelin-starred Louis XV in Monte-Carlo, and once at Next’s debut Paris 1906 Escoffier dinner in Chicago (which wasn’t fully a gold service, since many of the dishes and utensils were not golden).

You simply won’t find gold service offered anywhere that hasn’t offered it for decades already (the Next Escoffier series was an exception). Even if one could afford to buy china rimmed in 24-karat gold, and flatware to match, few, today, would. It’s expensive and impractical. Everything has to be polished and washed by hand. And though plated in gold, broken dishes are practically worthless (the trouble of separating the gold from the porcelain is probably not worth its value).

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To welcome the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation’s board members – Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Jerome Bocuse – and coaches (only Gabriel Kreuther attended this time) to the resort, The Greenbrier hosted a gold service dinner in the hotel’s Crystal Room. The party was not large, but it was pretty.

In preparation, all sixty place settings for all six courses were spread out on tables in an adjacent ballroom, where a temporary service station was set up, complete with a conveyer belt to streamline the plating process. Crates of gold flatware were uncased and the utensils polished.

Canapés were assembled onsite, arranged on trays, and sent out for rounds. They included spoonfuls of lobster gnocchi, and mini croque madames, topped with sunny-side quail eggs.

During dinner, food arrived in batches from the kitchen and was held warm in chaffing trays for plating. Servers, suited and white-gloved, were dispatched in teams.

The food? Classic French cuisine: lobster-stuffed turbot with sauce Americaine; beef tenderloin poached in beurre rouge, served with sauce Perigourdine; and a salad, at the end, of course, more cheese soufflé than greens.

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The majority of my time on this second trip to The Greenbrier was spent in The Bunker, where Richard Rosendale has replicated the cubicle kitchen in which he will have to cook at the Bocuse d’Or competition in Lyon next January. I can’t show you any pictures, or tell you about the food that he prepared for the Bocuse d’Or coaches and board members, who had gathered to evaluate Rosendale’s progress. But I can tell about what else we did. .

In addition to the gold service dinner, the board members spent some time with the resort’s chefs and cooks, many of whom are in The Greenbrier’s rigorous culinary apprenticeship program (past graduates of the program include Rosendale and Michael Voltaggio). The board members talked about their experience as chefs, and then opened up the floor to questions.

And, of course, we ate.

The Greenbrier is home to a collection of over a dozen restaurants. And I have eaten at almost all of them.

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Every morning, there was breakfast in the Main Dining Room (or, the MDR, as they call it), which, at peak capacity, can serve thousands of covers each day, between breakfast and dinner (the hot line in the kitchen runs nearly the length of a football field). I divided my time between the buffet, overflowing with options, and the menu, which offered everything from near-forgotten American standards, like chipped beef, to irresistible whims, like s’mores pancakes, topped with toasted marshmallows and served with a side of Valhrona dark chocolate sauce.

Lakers’s Hall of Famer (and the man on the NBA logo), Jerry West, has his name on a steakhouse at The Greenbrier (Jerry West’s Prime 44, after his jersey number). We went there for dinner one night, where we had housemade charcuterie and Caesar salad, tossed table-side, garlicky and wonderful. Drew Garms, the chef, also sent out towers of seafood, delicious dry-aged steaks, and bowlfuls of warm, sticky toffee pudding à la mode. And to cap off our fun night out, Jerry West swung by to say hello.

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Jim Justice, the current owner of The Greenbrier, moved a lot of earth to build an underground casino at The Greenbrier. Inside the casino is In-Fusions, the hotel’s Asianesque restaurant. I ate there in July, and returned this time with Corey Siegel, Rosendale’s commis for the Bocuse d’Or, for dinner again. Chefs William Hicks and Nick Jones cooked for us, sending out a sampling that ranged from sushi to pad Thai.

At Tree Tops, the outdoor café on the banks of the resort’s beautiful outdoor swimming pool, I had quiet lunch alone: a salad topped with The Greenbrier’s famous peaches, and a Cuban sandwich. I watched the mist overtake the mountains in the distance, opening up into a downpour. It was lovely.

On my last night at The Greenbrier, I returned to the MDR (which turns 100 years-old this year) with Siegel for dinner (jackets and tie required). Steve Halliday, the dinner service chef, cooked for us an 8-course dinner off the cuff, marrying dishes from the à la carte menu with courses from the tasting menu. We ended with a selection of cheeses, and puffy Grand Marnier soufflés.

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In between, there were many, many sweets. I had mango tartlets and strawberries chantilly at the sumptuously dressed Café Carlton.

At midnight, I snacked on a collection of cookies, delivered with a recipe.

There was a chocolate brownie sundae with hot caramel at Sam Snead’s at the golf club, overlooking the 18th hole on the Old White TPC.

And I spent way too many calories at Draper’s. What has become, perhaps, my favorite corner at The Greenbrier, it’s like an old ice cream parlor, with the addition of barbecue pork wonton nachos, and fried green tomato sandwiches slathered with black pepper aioli. I raided their ice cream case numerous times for sundaes and banana splits. I even created a dessert I call the “mountain of love,” based on something I used to make for myself in college for breakfast: a warm, Belgian waffle topped with ice cream (here, one scoop each of pistachio, coffee, strawberry, chocolate, and peanut butter); strawberries; a banana split; nuts; hot fudge, and whipped cream. Oh, and a cherry on top, of course. It’s the best thing ever.

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It was hard, after a week of being pampered at The Greenbrier, to leave. I have fallen in love with the place.

Where else will you experience a magical meeting of colors that, under the direction of anyone other than the estimable Dorothy Draper (former interior designer of The Greenbrier) or Carleton Varney (the current interior designer), would be a nightmare?

Where else would they deliver a beautiful chocolate sculpture to your room, an afternoon snack before a gold service dinner? Or, a cupcake the size of your head? That’s the other thing I have come to know about The Greenbrier – they don’t do small here. Both of those were the handiwork of the resort’s executive pastry chef, Jean-François Suteau, who happened to be America’s competitor in the Coupe du Monde pastry competition in 2011.

And where else do you find the Nassoons, Princeton University’s male a capella group, on your way back from dinner, serenading guests in the lobby?

Only at The Greenbrier. Because there, anything is possible.

* This was a work trip photographing for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation. So, this trip was paid for by the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation.

Photos: Richard Rosendale and Corey Siegel presenting their meat platter to Thomas Keller, Jerome Bocuse, Daniel Boulud, Gabriel Kreuther, Monica Bhambhani, Joel Buchman, and Peter Timmins, The Greenbrier, White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia; war on the walls of The Greenbrier; 24-karat gold-plated serviceware at The Greenbrier; gold service dinner at The Greenbrier; Richard Rosendale in The Bunker at The Greenbrier; Thomas Keller at The Greenbrier; Daniel Boulud at The Greenbrier; coffee ice cream sundae at Draper’s at The Greenbrier; and The Princeton Nassoons in the lobby of The Greenbrier.

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While walking through the administrative back-end of TKRG (Thomas Keller Restaurant Group), a village of offices in a compound, including The French Laundry, inter-connected by trellised walkways, Monica Bhambhani, the Director of Competition and Events for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, turned to chef Thomas Keller and said, wistfully: “Chef, I think I want to move to Yountville.”

He replied, half joking: “Most people do.”

We three chuckled, less at the wittiness, and more at the truth of his statement.

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Yountville is wonderful.

It’s small and intimate, five square blocks of calm façades supported by a constant sense of urgency in the kitchens and spaces behind them.

The weather is particularly perfect, especially at this time of year: balmy stretches of sun and clouds bookended by crisp nights and foggy mornings.

The surroundings are beautiful. Napa is a valley of vineyards running between parallel ranges of mountains over which the sun jumps at the beginning and end of each day.

The food is fresh, abundant, and, in all other respects, excellent. And the wine, of course, is plentiful and good.

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There is a modest, white-shingled house two doors down from The French Laundry with the American and Marine Corps flags waving from its front posts. Once home to chef Keller’s father, with whom I had the pleasure of chatting on the patio of The French Laundry before my first meal there in 2006, it has now been dedicated to the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation.

Outside, the house offers a small porch, a couple of bikes, and the shade of a giant elm tree. A tall hedge makes a quiet courtyard of its small front, shielding it from Washington Street, the lazy thoroughfare that runs through Yountville.

Across the street is The French Laundry garden, at once wild and orderly, a stretch of green striped with a rainbow of beds – electric-purple listada di gandia, milky-white fraises du bois, fire engine-red peppers, and plump orbs of orange and greenswaying gently on the giant tomato vines in the hoop house.

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Inside the Bocuse d’Or USA House is a dream kitchen, outfitted by Viking and All-Clad, with a centrifuge, and a super-duper dehydrator the size and shape of a washer-dryer combo. I have no idea how it works. All I know is that one day, the dehydrator is stacked with sheet trays of vegetables, fresh from the garden. A couple of days later, those same vegetables have been reduced to colorful powders.

This is where the Bocuse d’Or USA team spends a week each competition cycle training and preparing a tasting for a panel of chefs, who gather to evaluate the competitor’s progress. (The Bocuse d’Or competition his held every other year at the end of January in Lyon, France.)

Two years ago, James Kent (now chef de cuisine at Eleven Madison Park) and his commis, Tom Allen (then a cook at Eleven Madison Park, now working at le Meurice in Paris), were the first American Bocuse d’Or competitors to have use of this house. This year, the house was opened to Richard Rosendale, the executive chef of The Greenbrier, and his commis Corey Siegel.

As the photographer for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, I went to document it all with my camera.

As with my previous reports from the Bocuse d’Or USA training grounds, I can’t tell you much about what Rosendale is cooking up for the competition. So, instead, I’ll spend this post telling you a little about what else we did in Napa Valley that week.

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Our mornings were fairly early. Our nights went fairly late.

The majority of my days were spent in the kitchen with Rosendale and Siegel, and photographing the team – which also included coaches Gavin Kaysen (a former Bocuse d’Or competitor and now the executive chef of Café Boulud) and Gabriel Kreuther (executive chef of The Modern), and former Bocuse d’Or competitor and the current chef de cuisine at The French Laundry, Timothy Hollingsworth – in and around Yountville.

There were multiple runs to the garden each day for fresh produce, and visits with The French Laundry chickens (which, live in a coop with a blue door, of course). Having grown up on a farm in the Alsace, Kreuther turned out to be quite the chicken whisperer. While the rest of the team chased the chickens around the yard hopelessly, he efficiently rounded them up and handed them out like gifts on Christmas morning, one for each chef, for a photo op. Kreuther told me that, once, as a child, he killed and cleaned 150 chickens in one day.

And throughout the week, the team fielded interviews, with Ben Tracy of CBS This Morning, Paolo Lucchesi of Inside Scoop at the San Francisco Chronicle, and others.

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Lunches were usually quick and informal.

One day, we hovered around the large, counter island in the kitchen at the Bocuse d’Or USA House eating tacos (lengua, cabeza, longaniza, carnitas, and al pastor) and tortas from Tacos Garcia, a local food truck. It’s parked in the lot adjacent to Pancha’s – a local bar, where Kaysen held court in his shades one night, while Prince and a patron at the bar reconciled their differences in the purple rain.

Another day, we made quick work of a stack of pizzas, ordered from Richard Reddington’s Redd Wood, where we also had dinner one night. The ricotta pizza there, littered with sweet corn kernels, threaded with bacon, and flecked with chile flakes, is terrific. So is the bucatini, tart with tomato, rich with guanciale.

The only exception to our short mid-day breaks was a walk down the street to the Michelin-starred Redd one day, where we had lunch on its spacious patio with Brandon Rodgers, once Kaysen’s commis at the Bocuse d’Or in 2007, now sous chef at benu in San Francisco. The tamarind-glazed wings there were delicious, as was a bowl of tempura-fried figs that the chef sent out.

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Dinners were a little more relaxing.

At Cook in St. Helena, we stacked our phones and dug into hearty bowls of pasta – basil tagliatelle spiked with Calabrian chiles and gnocchi bathing in a rich, gorgonzola cream sauce – and large plates of meat, including one with thick chicken “chops” on a beautiful bed of mixed grains and fresh figs.

On the terrace of the Michelin-starred Auberge du Soleil, we watched the valley blush at the setting sun before having a multi-course dinner cooked by chef Robert Curry, under whom Kaysen had worked at the Domaine Chandon years ago. King salmon tartare with osetra caviar, suckling pig with pickled mustard seeds, and a pretty collection of strawberries and coconut perfumed with lime were my favorite dishes that night.

For our final meal together in Yountville, Keller invited us to have dinner with him at Bouchon. To start, there came a tower of seafood. Then, arrived a round of pâtes and salads, followed by meats and fishes (I had the skate, bone-on, with lots of garlic). And, finally, desserts: the ever-showy Mont Blanc, like a pile of sugary spaghetti garnished with candied chestnuts; île flottante, adrift in a sea of crème anglais; profiteroles, fat and tall, smothered with chocolate sauce; and a truly magnificent tarte au citron. We ate them all.

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In between lunches and dinners, there was an embarrassing number of visits to Bouchon Bakery; it was just so convenient, being only a block from the Bocuse d’Or USA House, and on the way to town. I stopped in for one of their gigantic ice cream sandwiches every day, in addition to a couple of fig tarts and coffee eclairs.

Beyond my time with the Bocuse d’Or USA team, I had a few meals on my own and with friends.

On my way from the airport to Yountville, I caught a quick brunch with Joshua Skenes and Shawn Gawle, the chef and pastry chef, respectively, of saison at Boulette’s Larder in San Fracisco, my third visit to that wonderful eatery in the Ferry Terminal Marketplace this year. As I’ve written before, chef Amaryll Schwertner’s cooking is incredibly thoughtful, her ingredients are superb. We had silky scrambled eggs with fried chicken and gravy. There was a simple plate of dairy products – ricotta, burrata, and yogurt – served with jams and toasted brioche. I’ve never seen a prettier plate of fruit than the one she prepared that day – a salad of grapes, melons, figs, and berries, all atop thick swatches of vanilla-huckleberry honey. And her Mediterranean-themed chicken salad – with chickpeas, tzatziki, and baba ganoush – is a highly craveable combo. This was my second time having it, and I’d gladly order it again.

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After the Bocuse d’Or USA team left, I stayed an extra day in Napa.

I ate at addendum, the satellite luncheonette to ad hoc, with my friends Keefer, Heidi Eats A Lot, and Andrew Longres. Formerly a sous chef at The American Restaurant in Kansas City, where I first met him, Andrew is now a chef de partie at The French Laundry.

Addendum is a walk-up orbited by picnic tables in a tidy little park with a vegetable garden. There are only two choices: fried chicken or barbecue. And both come with the same sides; that day, they included succotash, cornbread, and potato salad. The food is prepared in the ad hoc kitchen, packaged, and delivered to your table, ready to be taken away, or to be eaten there. I especially liked the fried chicken and succotash, a wonderfully sweet and crunchy combo. The potato salad was good too, waxy, not grainy, and lightly dressed.

Christopher Kostow, the chef of the three Michelin-starred Restaurant at Meadowood, told me that a lot has changed since my first meal there in September of last year. I should return for an update, he said. So, I did. I’ll write about that meal, my week-long stay at The Meadowood on this trip, and an update on the the Twelve Days of Christmas, which I will be attending in December, in a following post.

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Just when I thought my time in Yountville was over, TKRG asked me to stay an extra day to photograph for the company.

That last day was a full one, the shot list was long. Up early, down late, I photographed every one of the TKRG establishments in Yountville, in addition to dozens of other locations.

I spent lunch service photographing in the kitchen at The French Laundry. Making oneself invisible and unobtrusive in a busy kitchen can be a challenge. Thankfully, I am small, and the staff there – both front and back of the house – is exceedingly friendly and patient. And, despite the sense of urgency there, everyone was calm and professional. I was reassured repeatedly that I was welcomed to move about as I pleased.

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For the front half of dinner service, I photographed at Bouchon, where, from the boisterous bistro dining room, I passed into a surprisingly quiet and calm kitchen run by Harry Butcher, the chef on duty that night. Mounted on the wall, directly opposite the pass, is a split screen monitor, with a live cam shot of Bouchon Las Vegas’s kitchen on one side, and Bouchon Beverly Hills’s kitchen on the other.

I ended the day back at ad hoc, where I had photographed the Bocuse d’Or USA tasting a couple of days before. After I wrapped up my shot list there, I had dinner on the restaurant’s patio, a hearty and delicious meal that started with a beautiful endive and arugula salad, anchored in the middle by a generously sized veal chop (that came with sunchokes, maitake, and a creamy butternut squash gratin), and finished with a lemony posset (a cooked cream curdled with lemon juice) topped with strawberries.

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Having only rushed in and out of the Napa Valley for one-night dinners before, it was lovely to finally spend a length of time there, to familiarize myself with the area and eat around the valley. I look forward to returning for more of it in December.

The following is a list of the restaurants where I ate on this trip. If and when I write about them, I’ll hyperlink them to their respective blog posts. Until then, they’re linked to the photos on my Flickr account.

ad hoc (Yountville)
addendum (Yountville)
Auberge du Soleil (Rutherford)
Bouchon (Yountville) (once, twice)
Bouchon Bakery (Yountville) (once, twice, thrice, and more)
Boulette’s Larder (San Francisco)
Cook (St. Helena)
Redd (Yountville)
Redd Wood (Yountville) (once, twice)
Tacos Garcia (Yountville)
The Restaurant at Meadowood (St. Helena)

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Photos: The kitchen at The French Laundry, Yountville, California; foggy mornings in the vineyards, Oakville, California; listada di gandia eggplants at The French Laundry Garden, Yountville, California; Richard Rosendale at the Bocuse d’Or USA House in Yountville, California; Corey Siegel, Gabriel Kreuther, Gavin Kaysen, Monica Bhambhani, and Richard Rosendale with The French Laundry chickens, The French Laundry Garden, Yountville, California; tacos, tortas, and quesadillas from Tacos Garcia in Yountville, California; a stunning sunset from the terrace at Auberge du Soleil, Rutherford, California; autumn fruit compote at Boulette’s Larder, San Francisco, California; Andrew Longres at The French Laundry, Yountville, California; Timothy Hollingsworth at the pass at The French Laundry, Yountville, California; the bar at ad hoc, Yountville, California; sole on the pass at The French Laundry, Yountville, California; Gavin Kaysen, with Milton Abel, Timothy Hollingsworth, and Monica Bhambhani at Pancha’s in Yountville, California.

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You know those restaurants you’ve been meaning to visit for ten years? I have long lists of them. And none is longer or harder to maintain than my New York list.

New York City is a high-volume situation. The sheer number of restaurants that open (and close) there each year, makes it one of the hardest markets with which to keep pace. Despite the fact that I have begun complaining about the culinary stagnation there – has anything truly groundbreaking appeared on New York’s restaurant scene in the last half-decade? – to its credit, I never hurt for options in that city.

Every trip to New York requires me to balance the comfort I take in returning to the reliable against the hope I keep for discovering something new, something better, something different. But, in the past couple of years, that hope has been dashed repeatedly on the glossy pages of overhype. Disenchanted and disappointed, I recently decided to reprioritize my roster. I shelved the new draftees and started working down the bench. And you know what? I ate very well.

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I had never been to Fatty Crab. So I finally went. I ordered the restaurant’s namesake “chili crab,” of the dungeness variety. It arrived hacked in half and dunked in a bowl of creamy sauce with scallions and thick slices of Pullman toast for sopping (next time, I’ll opt for rice instead). It was a messy project, and not an inexpensive one either (the market price for that crab was somewhere near $45 that day). But it was good. Work quickly, those legs grow cold faster than you think.

I had never been to Wallsé either. So I went there too. The goulash was warm and thick, sweet with paprika. The sweetbreads were fat and creamy, served with dark greens, gently wilted. The weiner schnitzel was tender and thin, its breading light and happy under a slice of lemon. And true to the menu’s description, the apple strudel was crisp, banded in flakey layers of pastry. It was served with cinnamon ice cream.

All of this, and more, my friends (Wizard of Roz and Mr. RBI) and I ate with a smile under the gaze of the Austrian-born chef Kurt Gutenbrunner. His portrait loomed large in the room, an impressive posture rendered by an impressive artist.* He appeared in person, towards the end of our dinner, to shake some hands and to chat with regulars in the candlelight glow. It was a lovely evening.

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Frank DeCarlo’s Bacaro on the Lower East Side has been a fixture on my New York list ever since I read an article about the chef and restaurant by Mark Bittman in the New York Times years ago. I had been intrigued by Bittman’s description of DeCarlo’s cooking, which is inspired by the spice route that prospered Venice half a millennium ago.

So, when I stumbled across Bacaro while rummaging for restaurants that offered their regular menu (and not some overpriced prix fixe with silly aphrodisiacal claims) on Valentine’s night, I decided it was time to go.

The majority of the restaurant is located underground in a rambling cellar with many nooks and corners. If you listen carefully, you can hear the winged lion of St. Mark roar: it looks as medieval as you want Venice to be. Lit almost solely by the flicker of votive candles, it might have been a romantic setting if the couples around us hadn’t been practically eating with us. It was a cozy fit.

The food was simple and well-made. My friend Mango and I had a bundle of tender green beans draped with white anchovies; some razor clams, which arrived sizzling in a shallow tub of butter; and a bowl of spaghetti con vongole, which was more vongole than spaghetti, and more tomatoey than not.

Bittman’s article had featured a recipe that DeCarlo (who also owns Peasant) claimed to originate from the era of the Visigoths, nearly ten centuries old. A victorious battle for the Visigoths against an invading tribe of barbarians had left a field of dead horses. As legend has it, the horses were butchered and the meat was preserved in red wine. The practice was passed down until the spice trade added to the marinade a mix of sweet spices (cloves, orange, cinnamon, nutmeg, etc.). You will find the recipe here, and a version of it at Bacaro. Of course, DeCarlo uses beef, not horse. The slices of meat, noticeably infused with the sweet marinade, were served with a simply dressed tuft of greens.

We skipped dessert and headed uptown to Park Avenue Café Winter. Richard Leach has been on my bucket list for years. And he remains safely undisturbed in his place. My attempt to drop in for Leach’s desserts on Valentine’s night was a lost cause. Arriving to S.R.O. in the bar, we turned around and left. But, I’ll be back

Luckily, we found a table at nearby Bar Pleiades in the Surrey Hotel, where Noah Carroll, pastry chef of the adjoining Café Boulud, sent out a tall, Grand Marnier soufflé for two, and a couple of other desserts. It was less of a consolation, and more of a prize.

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Domenico DeMarco opened Di Fara Pizza on the corner of 15th Street and Avenue J in Brooklyn in 1964. For nearly fifty years, he has been the only person making pizzas there (so be prepared to wait for your pie). If he’s not already an octogenarian, he’s pretty close to that achievement.

Despite the tremendous weight of evidence in favor of visiting this legendary pizzaiolo, I hadn’t. I was foolish.

To the uninitiated, Di Fara may seem like a hot mess at first. There is no room for a line to form. There is only a crowd. If your observation skills fail you, rely on the many regulars in line for instructions. Here they are, briefly: There are two, basic options at Di Fara: round or square. (You can order by the slice, but you have to wait until DeMarco makes an extra pizza to be divided among smaller orders.) You write your order down on the yellow legal pad that you’ll find on the far-side of the counter top. DeMarco’s son crosses off the orders as they’re sliced and served. If you want something to drink, you either bring it, or choose from one of the two refrigerated cases by the door. If you can find a place to sit at one of the three folding tables that line the walls, you’re lucky. If you don’t, then you settle up at the counter and take your food elsewhere.

While I prefer the square pie, I’d be irresponsible not to endorse both. They are phenomenal.

The round pizza has a flat, slightly knobby rim, less blistered and more elastic. The toppings are sparse, yet perfectly measured – a stain of tart tomato sauce, some patches of bubbly, milky mozzarella, and fresh basil leaves that DeMarco snips over the top of the pizza just before he slices them. It’s easily my favorite pizza Margherita.

The square pie starts off more like focaccia. DeMarco pats the thick, oily dough into a well-greased pan and bakes it naked. As the dough bakes, he pulls it out of the oven several times (standing on boxes – were they full of beer or canned tomatoes? – to reach the upper oven). Each time, he lifts the corners of the crust and bathes it with a generous pour of olive oil. As the crust crisps, he adds the toppings – the same ones you’ll find on the round pie. The result is a molten, meteor-like bottom that’s crunchy and oily, and a fluffy, cooked center. It’s thick, but not heavy. It’s perfect, really. Unlike Chicago deep-dish pizza, which is rarely cooked evenly or adequately – there’s that fat middle section where you can’t tell when the uncooked dough ends and the cheese begins – this is a thing of beauty.

If you haven’t been to Di Fara Pizza, grab some friends (so you can share a pizza or two), a good amount of patience (because you will wait), and some cash (they don’t take credit cards), and hop on the Q train to Avenue J (the restaurant is one block from the station). Go sooner rather than later.**

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I spent a day with Adam of A Life Worth Eating.

Our pizza crawl was cut short when we arrived at Paulie Gee’s in Greenpoint. It was 3:00 p.m., and the sign on the door let us know that the pizzeria wouldn’t open until 6:00. We kicked ourselves for our shoddy due diligence, and regretted not having indulged in one or two more slices at Di Fara, where we had just left, gifting the majority of our uneaten square pie to those around us.

Walking towards Williamsburg, we swung by Peter Pan Donut and Pastry Shop, located in a particularly Polish part of Brooklyn, for an afternoon donut. A regular at the counter told us the best one is the whole-wheat donut – “it’s a sleeper hit,” he insisted. There were none left. But the two we had – one chocolate cake donut and one toasted coconut cake donut - were pretty great.

Arriving at Persons of Interest, a hipster barbershop in Williamsburg, Adam walked past the stylists and led me straight into a back room, where Dillon Edwards pulled some exceptionally good espresso for us. Edwards’s one-man, one-room operation is called, simply, Parlor Coffee.

I had never been to the Essex Street Market. So, Adam and I finished our day over tubes of cookies from Dorie Greenspan’s cubby-hole shop there, Beurre & Sel. Some of the cookies I tried were unusually dry, or doughy. But, I loved the ”Classic Jammers,” a modified thumbprint cookie with berry jam and a streusel topping. That one was terrific.

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Many have urged me to eat at the two Michelin-starred Soto. So, finally, I went.

The quality of Sotohiro Kosugi’s seafood, including the sea urchin (for which he has become known), is solid. But, I thought that some of his composed dishes, as pretty and imaginative as they were – including his famous “Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri,” in which a small mound of sea urchin was wrapped, like a turban, with long, thick strips of squid, topped with a quail egg yolk, and decorated with strips of nori to mimic a spiny sea urchin shell - were a bit impractical to eat, especially with chopsticks alone.

But, for the couple of hot dishes we had at the beginning of our “omakase” dinner, including a beautiful shiso agedashi, and the plaque of creamy chu-toro that came paved with avocado and caviar, I’d definitely go again.

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I couldn’t escape (or, more accurately: resist) returning to a few restaurants that I’ve visited before.

I had lunch at Café Boulud with my friend Adam. We were served a terrific salad of shaved Brussels sprouts dressed with a mustardy vinaigrette and tossed with toasted pine nuts. There was also a beautiful filet of cod painted with tamarind and doused with a warm, creamy mishmish curry broth. And Alex Martinez, then-chef de cuisine (as of yesterday, he is the new chef of DBGB on the Bowery), sent us a row of fluffy, buttery rosemary biscuits to accompany a pretty, pink terrine of venison pocketed with creamy foie gras throughout.

At half-time, my friend Adam and I were invited into the kitchen for a surprise. I was expecting ice cream, or a cocktail. We arrived to something much better: two blond munchkins with juicy cheeks running around. When we returned to our table, it was flooded with desserts. We finished what we could and were rewarded with a round of petits fours – including some respectable mini-canelés – for our efforts.

My college roommate happened to be in New York and saw one of my tweets from the city. So he texted me just in time to join me for lunch at Jonathan Benno‘s Lincoln Ristorante. We hadn’t seen each other in two years, so we downloaded each others’ lives over strozzapreti, painted green with a bitter pesto made of rabe and punterelle, and velvety ribbons of buckwheat pappardelle in a lusty, veal ragu. For unobtrusively good cooking, I recommend Lincoln.

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I didn’t feel like my first visit to Dovetail, a one Michelin-starred restaurant on the Upper West Side, was representative of chef John Fraser’s potential. So, I decided to go back.

This time, I was not disappointed. Our twelve courses, collectively, felt much more like a cohesive whole. We started with a lovely salad of Fuji apples spiced with curry; which was followed by fluffy ricotta gnocchi in a stunning, red beet sauce; and then moved on to a rich fondue with crispy pommes gaufrettes and black truffles. Our meal was anchored by a beautiful, dry-aged sirloin, which was presented whole, and then sliced and served with corned tongue on the side. Pastry chef Michal Shelkowitz ended our meal with three desserts. My favorite one was a semifreddo of kaffir lime with candied kumquats and a chilled, citrus broth.

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George Mendes was hosting a collaboration dinner among friends at his restaurant aldea. He invited me to attend as his guest.

The other chefs that night I knew well: John Shields, formerly of TownHouse (he is now in negotiations for a space in Washington, D.C.), and Scott Anderson of Elements in Princeton, New Jersey.

Each chef presented two courses. Among my favorites were Shields’s dried and grated beets, which he topped with a run of egg yolk, super-spicy wild onions, and horseradish oil. I also loved Mendes’s block of suckling pig with a crackling crust, served with clams.

A week before, an old college friend, Weissman, whom I hadn’t seen in over a decade (it’s sad that I can say that now), contacted me out of the blue. As a part of our reacquaintance, he joined me at this dinner. Before he left the city the next morning, Weissman and I met up for breakfast at Sarabeth’s East on the Upper East Side. I had pumpkin pancakes. And you know what? They were pretty good.

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The primary purpose of this latest trip to New York was actually to photograph All-Clad Metalcrafter’s newly announced class of “Chef Ambassadors,” a group of chefs that will “play an integral role in product development and testing, creating recipes and promotional materials” for the cookware company.

Following the photoshoot, I was invited to a dinner hosted by All-Clad at Per Se. The dinner was attended by representatives from the company, as well as the chef ambassadors and Thomas Keller. Eli Kaimeh, the restaurant’s chef de cuisine, cooked for this private party.

During our dinner, Keller told us that, at one point in his career, he had made a tarte tatin every day for three years. And every day, it came out differently. He never figured out how to get a consistent result. But, the tarte tatin that he recently had at Paul Bocuse’s restaurant in Lyon inspired him to revisit this classic French pastry. (I have written about Bocuse’s version of the tarte tatin on this blog before.) Upon returning to the U.S., he tasked his pastry chef, Elwyn Boyles, with perfecting the tarte.

And so, our dinner concluded with tarte tatin. It arrived whole – a glossy, caramel wonder – on a silver platter. It was paraded around our table and then returned to the kitchen. The tarte reappeared, divided among us, with vanilla ice cream. It needed nothing more.

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On my last day in New York, I gathered up all of the candies and pastries that I had collected over the week and made a breakfast out of them with Adam at his new apartment.

Afterwards, I met up with some friends at Aamanns of Copenhagen in TriBeCa for brunch. The original restaurant is in Copenhagen. This is its U.S. outpost.

We ordered the four-course brunch tasting menu ($42): four half-portion smørrebrød, two different types of cured herring, grilled pork paté, beef tartare, and a generous amount of cheese. It was a lot of food. The beet-cured hake smørrebrød was particularly good – the fish had taken on a waxy denseness, and a pretty, magenta color too. I also loved the juniper berry-cured herring that was served with capers, onions, and a wedge of boiled egg. And the bread – Danish bread might be my ruin if I ever move to Denmark. Buttered and toasted, the dense, dark bread was so good that I all but forgot about the cheese that came with it.

To complete our Scandinavian-inspired meal (and shamelessly using Gavin Kaysen‘s son Emile as our excuse), we piled into a cab and headed for the corner of 7th Avenue and Christopher Street on the west side. At 89 Christopher Street is Sockerbit, a Swedish candy store. The bins that line the walls there throw a shock of color against the otherwise white box of an interior. They brim with candies of all shapes and sizes – some hard, some gummy, some wrapped, and some on sticks. I bought some salted licorice, hugged my friends good-bye, and hailed a cab for the airport.

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Part of what makes New York so exciting to me is its constantly stir of new and shiny opportunities. I embrace it, and love the city for it.

But, consider peeling back the city’s glossy coat for once, as I have begun to do. Past all the pomp and press of today, you will find the well-preserved patina of yesterday awaiting you. The New York of five, ten, fifteen – even twenty years ago – is still as good as it ever was. It’s mature, it’s dependable, and it’s delicious. There’s no way it could have survived if it wasn’t.

Here are links to the photos of the food that I ate in New York:

Aamanns of Copenhagen (Manhattan)
aldea (Collaboration dinner with Shields and Anderson) (Manhattan)
bacaro (Manhattan)
Beurre & Sel (Manhattan)
Café Boulud (once, twice) (Manhattan)
Di Fara’s (Brooklyn)
dovetail (Manhattan)
Fatty Crab (Manhattan)
Lincoln Ristorante (Manhattan)
maialino (Manhattan)
per se (Manhattan)
Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop (Brooklyn)
Sarabeth’s East (Manhattan)
sockerbit (Manhattan)
soto (Manhattan)
wallsé (Manhattan)

* The famous portrait of Kurt Gutenbrunner that hangs in its bar dining room is by the artist Julian Schnabel.

** While you’re waiting at Di Fara, find the picture and story of Mariam Amash hanging on the wall. Read how she had 11 children, who begat her 120 grandchildren in the course of her 120-year life. She attributes her longevity to drinking a cup of olive oil every day and eating DeMarco’s pizza four times a week.

Photos: “Buckyball,” an art installation by Leo Villareal in Madison Square Park, New York City; the chili crab at Fatty Crab in New York City; a 16 oz. Grand Marnier soufflé at Bar Pleiades in New York City; Domenico DeMarco at Di Fara Pizza in Brooklyn; tubes of cookies from Beurre & Sel; “Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri” at Soto in New York City; strozzapreti al pesto at Lincoln Ristorante in New York City; dry-aged sirloin at Dovetail in New York City; suckling pig with clams at aldea in New York City; tarte tatin at Per Se in New York City; candies, cookies, and coffee collected from my week of eating in New York City; Emile Kaysen at sockerbit in New York City.

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The bread fairy always calls thrice at The French Laundry.

First, arrives a beautifully glazed brioche bun. It’s got Lana Turner’s curves with the coloring of Sophia Loren after a summer on the Riviera.

Then, a basket of mini baguettes and whole-grain wonders, all of which I overlooked in favor of the pretzel roll with its shiny, elastic skin and salt freckles.

And finally, you’ll graduate to the sliced selections, studded with dried fruits and nuts. These go well with your cheese course towards the end.

This is just one example of how The French Laundry pampers, cossets, and overwhelms in the most unbelievable way.

* * * * *

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Fate brought me back to The French Laundry.

Or so I thought.

But, like a cascading deck of dominoes, a number of unexpected events left me with one of the hardest tables to get in America.*

Precise but soulless has been my conclusion (some might characterize it as an indictment).

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“Calotte de Boeuf Grillee”
The French Laundry

But this latest meal at The French Laundry was different. It was, if not soulful, immensely satisfying.

So, who is this young Texan who dazzled me at The French Laundry this time?

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Sweet Onion “Flan”
The French Laundry

Halfway through our meal, the maitre d’, Larry Nadeau, offered to take me into the kitchen to meet Devin Knell, the very capable executive sous chef and acting chef de cuisine for the night.

My dining companion and I decided to each order a different menu and share our dishes. She ordered the “Tasting of Vegetables,” I the “Chef’s Tasting.” Each menu came with a few choices.

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Salmon Creek Farms “Tête de Cochon”
The French Laundry

Other than requesting that the signature “Coffee and Doughnuts” dessert be added to her menu, my dining companion left all of her choices to the chef.

Here is what we had (CLICK HERE to see all of the photos, or on each course title for the individual photo):

***

Canapés

Warm Gougères

Avocado Cornet (Vegetable Tasting)
Lime and tuile.

Salmon Cornet (Chef’s Tasting)
Crème fraîche and sesame tuile.

1st Courses

Sweet Onion “Flan” (Vegetable Tasting)
Mission fig, Sicilian pistachio “nuage,” and rosemary essence.

Hokkaido Bean Curd “Panna Cota” (Chef’s Tasting)
Meyer lemon granité and white sturgeon caviar.

2nd Courses

Compressed Summer Melons (Vegetable Tasting)
Fennel bulb, Niçoise olive, arugula, and basil yogurt.

Moulard Duck “Foie Gras en Terrine” (Chef’s Tasting)
Silverado Trail strawberries, Piedmont hazelnut streusel,
Radish, watercress, and black truffle.
Warm brioche and a flight of salts.

3rd Courses

Salad of Toybox Tomatoes (Vegetable Tasting)
English cucumber, young ginger, white sesame,
Perilla shoots and bonito gelée.

Japanese Sea Eel “en Escabèche” (Chef’s Tasting)
Sunchokes, Jingle bell peppers, Niçoise olives,
Cape gooseberries and parsley.

4th Courses

Chanterelle Mushrooms “Á La Grecque” (Vegetable Tasting)
Red radish, Hawaiian hearts of palm, and cilantro oil.

New Bedford Sea Scallop “Poêlée” (Chef’s Tasting)
Pickled onion, raisins, Marcona almonds, and fennel bulb.

5th Courses

Fairytale Eggplant “En Persillade”
Summer squash, jingle bell peppers, parsley, and sweet garlic pudding.

Salmon Creek Farms “Tête de Cochon” (Chef’s Tasting)
Quail egg, petite lettuce and “Sauce Gribiche.”

6th Courses

Hand-Rolled Beet “Tortellini” (Vegetable Tasting)
48-hour brisket, fingerling potatoes, petite lettuce and horseradish crème fraîche.

Snake River Farms “Calotte de Boeuf Grillée” (Chef’s Tasting)
Red beets, chanterelles mushrooms, Swiss chard, parsnip “mousseline,” and “sauce raifort.”

7th Courses

“Casatica di Bufala” (Vegetable Tasting)
Roasted Belgian endive, toasted pecans, grapes and verjus.

“Quiche” (Vegetable Tasting)
Blu del Moncenisio cheese, Asian pear, pickled cauliflower, and red wine reduction.

8th Courses

Armando Manni Olive Oil Sorbet (Vegetable Tasting)
Muscavado sugar “genoise,” French Laundry garden summer berries
30-year aged balsamic vinegar.

Jacobsen’s Farm Ambrosia Melon Sorbet (Chef’s Tasting)
Summer melons, “Moscato d’Asti” and garden mint.

9th Courses

“Coffee and Doughnuts”
French Laundry doughnuts and “Cappuccino Semifreddo.”

10th Courses

Valrhona Ganaja Chocolate “Marquis” (Vegetable Tasting)
Goat’s milk mousse, Bing cherries, Thai long peppercorns, and cassis sorbet.

“Peaches and Cream” (Chef’s Tasting)
Santa Rosa plums, pine nut nougatine, and Tahitian vanilla bean-basil ice cream.

Petits Fours

Chocolates
Caramelized Macadamia Nuts
Pecan Pie

The French Laundry Shortbread

***

Whereas I would say that the Chef’s Tasting was, for the most part, satisfying and solid, with a couple of particularly stunning courses, the Vegetable Tasting was utterly inspired.

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Hand-Rolled Beet “Tortellini”
The French Laundry

Let’s just assume that everything was properly cooked and plated (because, unless otherwise noted, it was) and focus instead on the highlights.

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“Peaches and Cream”
The French Laundry

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New Bedford Sea Scallop “Poêlée
The French Laundry

But, as I suggested above, the meal wasn’t entirely flawless.

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Chanterelle Mushrooms “Á La Grecque”
The French Laundry

Pacing was perfect. Like clockwork, the interval between each succeeding course seemed to lengthen by just a hair, allowing for digestion to work its magic.

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Jacobsen’s Farm Ambrosia Melon Sorbet
The French Laundry

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“Coffee and Doughnuts”
The French Laundry

She turned to me. There must be some mistake. The only thing listed was the half bottle of wine she ordered.

After picking our jaws up of the floor, we split the tab and left what I hope was an unembarrassingly sufficient tip. There are simply no slide scales for such incalculable generosity.**

Wherefore this unexpected benevolence? I haven’t a clue. It’s the second time this has happened to me at a Keller restaurant, and I sincerely hope it will be the last.

To chefs Keller, Hollingsworth, and Knell, and the staff of The French Laundry, many thanks. You are truly a class act.

The French Laundry
6640 Washington Street
Yountville, California 94599
707.944.2380

*** Michelin

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The French Laundry
Yountville, California

Cyrus? Meadowood? ubuntu?

I emailed a few friends who had been to those restaurants for their advice. A consensus achieved, I made a reservation.

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Before I could unpack from San Francisco, I was re-stuffing my suitcases for New Orleans.

The “dinner of the decade,” is how they billed it, and I had a seat.

But before I get to the event (which will come in a subsequent post), first, a little back-story, which operates as both disclosure and a disclaimer:

* * * * *

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Though I was flattered by the attention he showered on me, I shied away from his many invitations at first.

But Boswell does not take no for an answer.

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Gumbo File
New Orleans, Louisiana

About a month before the dinner, Boswell called me.

Why wasn’t I coming?

I gave him a laundry list of very real excuses. Besides, wasn’t the event sold out anyway?

He insisted that I be his personal guest to the event – there was an empty seat with my name on it.

Absolutely not, I insisted. How could I justify taking up a seat that might raise a lot of money for the beneficiaries?

He wanted me there.

Thank you, Southwest Airlines, for encouraging irresponsible, last-minute travel, unbudgeted expenditure of calories, and charitable donations.

Hotel? Boswell said that he had already booked and paid for two nights at a hotel for me.

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Faulkner House Books
New Orleans, Louisiana

I told you: he doesn’t take no for an answer.

The fund-raising event was on Tuesday, September 14. But Boswell had me fly down to New Orleans the day before.

That first night, I was invited to a private dinner at Stella! with the guest chefs, their sous chefs, and a handful of friends and spouses. Scott Boswell cooked for us.

The following night, Boswell, together with the guest chefs, cooked a multi-course dinner to a packed house of donors and members of the press.

In between the two meals, there was much grazing and drinking.

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d.b.a.
New Orleans, Louisiana

There were late-night (or was that early-morning) rounds at d.b.a., a bar in the Faubourg Marigny district, where Glen David Andrews had the house sweaty with dance fever.

I revisited Cafe du Monde a couple of times to see if my opinion about their beignets and chicory coffee would change.

I escaped, unscathed, from the surly muffaletta man at Central Grocery, Co., with a gigantic sandwich as my prize.

Write ups and reports about all of these adventures are to come. I’ll hyperlink them below as I get them posted.

Cafe du Monde
Central Grocery, Co.
d.b.a.
Stanley
Stella! (Private Dinner)
Stella! (B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or USA Dinner)

What do you serve to Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and Jerome Bocuse when they arrive together at your restaurant for dinner?

That’s a question that Scott Boswell recently had to answer.

The night before the B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or dinner, Chef Boswell and his team hosted a small, private dinner for the guest chefs, their sous chefs, and a few friends at Stella!

I was extremely honored to have been invited.

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Daniel Boulud
Stella!, New Orleans

There were about 20 of us seated in the Chartres dining room at Stella! that night, an intimate and cozy gathering.

Dinner was initiated by a short speech and toast by Thomas Keller. It ended with a round of applause for Scott Boswell and his staff, who came into the dining room for a well-deserved bow.

Here is our menu for that night. CLICK HERE to see all of the photos in the set, or click on the course titles below for the individual photos.

* * *

Amuse Bouches

Watermelon Sashimi
Canteloupe, seven fleurs de sels, and wasabi honeydew.

Cornmeal-crusted Frog’s Leg
Tomato jam and chipotle butter.

J. Lassalle, Brut, 1er Cru, Chigny-les-Roses, France

1st Course

Scallop Sashimi
Pickled cucumelons, yuzu, radish salad.

J. Lassalle, Brut, 1er Cru, Chigny-les-Roses, France

2nd Course

Risotto
Shrimp, andouille, shiitake, and scallions.

Tement, “Grassnitzberg”, Berghausen, Styria, Austria, 2006

3rd Course

Miso and Sake Glazed Japanese Mero Sea Bass
Udon, green tea and soba noodles,
Canadian lobster, blue crab and shrimp broth.

R. López de Heredia, “Viña Gravonia,” Crianza, Rioja, 2000

4th Course

Yuri-Juro Kobe Beef
Korean barbecue-glazed Yuri Juro Kobe beef, tempura okra, purple haze carrot,
seared Japanese yam, and baby bok choy.

Talenti, “Vigna del Paretaio”, Riserva, Brunello di Montalcino, 1998

5th Course

Bananas Foster French Toast
Tahitian vanilla bean ice cream, spicy candied walnuts and crisp plantains.

Mignardises

* * *

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Daniel Boulud
Stella!, New Orleans

I’d venture to say that everyone in the party would agree that the “Yuri-Juro Kobe Beef” was the highlight of the dinner.

But Chef Boswell had a stash of Kobe beef that he had ordered before the meat was embargoed. Sealed air-tight, the beef had been aged for over 250 days.

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Yuri Juro Kobe Beef
Stella!, New Orleans

I often find Kobe beef too rich, too much. Despite the rather heavy treatment here, this dish managed to stop shy of overkill and linger in luxury.

Dessert might have been overkill, but I wasn’t going to object.

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Thomas Keller
Stella!, New Orleans

It seems almost silly to say that service was very, very good. Well, it was.

Linger a little? Sure, why not?

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The Usual Suspects
Stephen Baldwin & Daniel Boulud

Laugh a lot? We sure did.

Thank you, Chef and Tanya Boswell and the entire house at Stella! for welcoming me back like a rock star and hosting such a lovely dinner party.

Stella!
1032 Chartres Street
New Orleans, Lousiana 70116
504-587-0091

* If I’m not mistaken, Chef Boswell said that the Kobe beef dish is available on the dinner menu at Stella! for $90 a plate.

“Chef.”

That is the title afforded to every member of the staff in a gentleman’s kitchen.

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The evening started with a cocktail reception in the garden of the Ursuline Convent, a block away from Stella!

Despite the warm, humid mid-day, it had mellowed into a pleasantly balmy evening with a slight breeze. The blue skies couldn’t have been more blue.

Media were afoot – cameras, field reporters, journalists. And designer gowns and tailored suits – who each paid $2,000 each to attend – air-kissed one another with cocktails in hand.

After a round of introductions and a few speeches, two checks for $50,00 each were presented, one for B.I.R.D.S. and one for Bocuse d’Or USA.

Cue the applause.

Cue Jeremy Davenport live.

And cut to B-roll of guests resuming their mill-about.

Scott Boswell served true Kobe beef, which I got to taste at a dinner the night before, in Korean-style “spring rolls” spiced with kimchee.

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CLICK HERE to see all of the photos from this meal, or click on the course titles for the individual photos. Here are the hors d’oeuvres presented by the chefs at the Ursuline Convent:

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Ursuline Convent Reception

Thomas Keller

Cornet of Marinated Scottish Salmon
Red onion crème fraîche.

Chilled Soup of Jacobsen’s Farm White Nectarine
Riesling “pearls” and Marcona almond nuage.

Louisiana Frog Leg Boudin Blanc en Brioche
Tart cherry relish.

Daniel Boulud

Hamachi with Soft Beet Meringue

Tartelette of Louisiana Blue Crab
Carrot, cumin, coriander, and lime.

Cromesquis de Tête de Veau
Sauce gribiche.

Jerome Bocuse

Foie Gras à la Mangue

Scott Boswell

Asian Prawns, New Orleans-Style

Korean BBQ Japanese Kobe Beef Summer Rolls
Napa cabbage kimchee and Louisiana citrus BBQ butter

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Here is the dinner menu:

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B.I.R.D.S./Bocuse d’Or Dinner

1st Course
Melon Sashimi (Boswell)
Seven sea salts, soy and miso powders, wasabi honeydew, and sweet soy sauce.

M. Chapoutier, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Blanc, “La Bernardine,” France, 2005

2nd Course
Mariani Orchards Late Harvest Stone Fruit (Boswell)
Candied Louisiana pecans, aged balsamic vinegar, and petite basil and mint ice cream.

M. Chapoutier, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Blanc, “La Bernardine,” France, 2005

3rd Course
North Star American Caviar (Boswell)
Scrambled egg mousse and accoutrements.

Charles de Cazanove, Champagne Brute Rosé, France N.V.

4th Course
Lobster à l’Américaine (Bocuse)
Slivered snow peas, leeks, and black truffles.

Domaine LeFlaive, Puligny-Montrachet, Burgundy, France, 2007

5th Course
Hazelnut-Crusted Louisiana Sea Bream (Boulud)
Tasmanian black truffles and tasting of cauliflower.

Faiveley, Gevrey-Chambertin, Burgundy, France 2006

6th Course
Elysian Fields Farm Lamb en Persillade (Keller)
Caramelized fennel bulb, confit bayaldi, sweet garlic tortellini and Niçoise olive jus.

Lokoya, Cabernet Sauvignon, Diamond Mountain, Napa Valley, California, 2006

7th Course
Grilled Cheese “Sandwich” (Boswell)
Robiolo Bosina, cherry compote, “golden honey gelée,” toasted walnut oil, and petite greens.

Taylor Fladgate 20-year Tawny Port

8th Course
German Chocolate Cake (Boswell)
Coconut sorbet, caramel and frozen chocolate mousse.

Taylor Fladgate 20-year Tawny Port

Migardises
Chocolates
Nougats
Caramels
Marshmallows

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A sold out event, the headcount hovered around seventy.

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All of the dishes were very good. But I’ll linger a while on three in particular.

Bocuse’s “Lobster à l’Américaine” probably shaved a good five years off my life. I’ll die early, but immensely happy.

Keller’s “Elysian Fields Farm Lamb en Persillade” was spectacular, in part because of the wine pairing, to which I award best in show.

After the last dessert was finished, an army of chocolates and petits fours were marched out to the tables, along with gift bags stuffed with goodies, including a signed menu.

The dining room cleared, the chefs retreated to the kitchen to sign menus for the staff and to pose for photos.

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Since landing in the U.K. over a week ago, I’ve had a pretty amazing trip to Europe so far. I’ve been busy eating, seeing old friends, and making new ones.

The U.S. has never made it to the podium at this international cooking event. Its highest placement has been sixth.

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In the spirit of their generosity and hospitality, I share this incredible experience with you.

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Bocuse d’Or

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Bocuse d’Or, here’s a brief primer:

This year, the Bocuse d’Or took place on Tuesday, January 25 and Wednesday, January 26. The United States competed on the second day.

Some trivia:

France has topped the podium the most, having won nine trophies, six of which have been gold.

Norway follows closely with eight trophies, four of which have been gold.

Both Belgium and Sweden have now been to the podium five times each. Belgium has never won gold. Mattias Dahlgren won a gold trophy for Sweden in 1997.

In 1989, Léa Linster became the first (and only) woman to win the Bocuse d’Or. She is also remains the only Luxembourgeois to visit the podium.

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Team USA

In the following year, the two trained in special kitchens configured to replicate the competition kitchen at the Bocuse d’Or (Bouley in New York and The French Laundry in California).

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Day 1: Monday, January 24

Team U.S.A. had already been in Lyon for a week and a half by the time I arrived from Paris.

At the end, a mountain of warm madeleines arrived atop a stack of meringues. I looked to my right at Daniel Boulud, who was home again, and smiled.

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Day 2: Tuesday, January 25

As the first day of the Bocuse d’Or commenced, Team U.S.A. finished their preparations in a quiet kitchen on the other side of the city.

L’Abbaye de Collonges is beautiful.

I arrived in the earlier hours of the morning to find Kaysen labeling and organizing a heap of boxes and supplies.

Heidi and Chris generously adopted me into their crew, putting up with my amateur ways and letting me ride along with them.

Around noon, I decided to get out of the team’s hair and headed up the road to Restaurant Paul Bocuse for a long lunch (that post to come).

Team U.S.A. headed off to another one of Bocuse’s brasseries for dinner, this time, with the compass pointing to l’Ouest.

Early to bed, early to rise.

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Day 3: Wednesday, January 26

It was dark and snowing when we arrived at the abbey at 4:30 a.m.

I’ll never forget the sight and sound of Kent walking into the kitchen that morning, wearing an “NYPD Homicide Squad” t-shirt under a Ralph Lauren fleece and blasting “Gonna Fly Now” (a.k.a. the “Rocky” theme song) on his iPhone.

Most of the teams arrived at the Paul Bocuse Hall at the same time, around 6:30 a.m.

In the two hours before the competition, the hall filled with bullhorns and cow bells (I’m looking a you, Switzerland), and flags of all different colors.

Team U.S.A. was assigned to box 8, between the teams from the United Kingdom and Malaysia, the latter of which was the only all-female team in the competition’s history.

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At 8:30 a.m., Tommy Myllymaki of Sweden, in box 1, began cooking, followed by the rest of the teams in ten-minute intervals.

Around ten o’clock, I kicked off to grab an early lunch at a special presentation by Christian LeSquer in the Nespresso VIP suite.

At 1:30 p.m., Sweden presented the first fish platter, followed by the rest of the countries at ten-minute intervals. The order was repeated at 2:05 with the meat platters.

Despite a couple of minor traffic jams, the timing was surprisingly smooth, with platters coming at a manageable pace.

The German fish platter was absurd and arresting at once, a curved, double-decker piece of metal with rows of forks and cylindrical placeholders.

The Swedish lamb platter was a creative take on a rotisserie, with a strip of lamb “turning” above a box of “fire.”

The Norwegian lamb platter walked a fine line between primal and prissy. The saddles rested in rib cages above a beautiful garden of greens, as orderly as Diane de Poitier’s garden.

Unfortunately, only the international jury members can compare the presentations by taste.

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Tommy Myllymaki, Rasmus Kofoed, and Gunnar Hvarnes

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I am confident that Mssrs. Kent’s and Allan’s names will not rest with this post. I look forward to their bright futures.

In the meantime, I turn to 2013 and hope to see our starred and spangled on that podium in Lyon.

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* Restaurant Paul Bocuse received its third star in 1965 and has held that honor every year since.

** In 2009, the Honorary President of the Bocuse d’Or was Daniel Boulud.

*** The bid for the Meilleurs Ouvriers de France was the subject of a recent documentary called “Kings of Pastry.” I highly recommend it.

**** Although I was able to photograph most of the platters on the second day, you can find a photo of all of the platters and the plated dishes on the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation’s website.

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Hyde Park, New York really is as beautiful as they say it is. Even with the trees stripped bare against those bald, russet hills in winter, the Hudson River Valley is breathtaking.

But I couldn’t go all the way to Hyde Park without enjoying the city too. So, I bookended the Bocuse with meals up and down the Manhattan grid. And boy, did I have a good time.

And then to Chicago I went, to catch up with some friends, at tables old and new.

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A year comes full circle.

You will find most of the photos I took at the competition in a gallery on my website.

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New York is the city that never sleeps, and I am its happy attendant, eager to eat its every hour.

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On the Upper West Side, I went to John Fraser’s Dovetail.

Down in the East Village, I went to Torrisi Italian Specialties.

At Eataly, I dropped a small ransom; my first and second visits.

I stopped in at le Bernardin for a snack, just to see the new interior. My, what an improvement.

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Lunch at Jean Georges, dinner at Charlie Trotter’s kitchen table, with a nap in first class in between: That was a good day.

In between naps, I went downtown for tortas at xoco and noodles at The Slurping Turtle. In the West Loop I got a peek inside Curtis Duffy’s upcoming Grace.

When I write about the following restaurants, you’ll find the links here:

New York

Boulud Sud
Dominique Ansel Bakery
Dovetail
Eataly
Eleven Madison Park
Escoffier (Culinary Institute of America)
Gramercy Tavern
Jean Georges
Maialino
Modern, The
Torrisi Italian Specialties

Chicago

Charlie Trotter’s
Longman & Eagle
Lula Café
Purple Pig, The
Slurping Turtle, The
xoco
yusho

Having now spent nearly two weeks, collectively, at The Greenbrier photographing for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, I have learned one thing: at The Greenbrier, anything is possible.

The tournament was mounted (with a $6.1 million purse). Toby Keith, The Fray, and Bon Jovi all played. Thousands came and went.

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And with age, comes history and tradition.

The Greenbrier is called “America’s resort,” an appropriate name for a place that has seen such a tremendous amount of American history pass through its grounds.

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At The Greenbrier, you will find vestiges of past grandeur rarely found in the United States.

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Canapés were assembled onsite, arranged on trays, and sent out for rounds. They included spoonfuls of lobster gnocchi, and mini croque madames, topped with sunny-side quail eggs.

During dinner, food arrived in batches from the kitchen and was held warm in chaffing trays for plating. Servers, suited and white-gloved, were dispatched in teams.

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And, of course, we ate.

The Greenbrier is home to a collection of over a dozen restaurants. And I have eaten at almost all of them.

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In between, there were many, many sweets. I had mango tartlets and strawberries chantilly at the sumptuously dressed Café Carlton.

At midnight, I snacked on a collection of cookies, delivered with a recipe.

There was a chocolate brownie sundae with hot caramel at Sam Snead’s at the golf club, overlooking the 18th hole on the Old White TPC.

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It was hard, after a week of being pampered at The Greenbrier, to leave. I have fallen in love with the place.

And where else do you find the Nassoons, Princeton University’s male a capella group, on your way back from dinner, serenading guests in the lobby?

Only at The Greenbrier. Because there, anything is possible.

* This was a work trip photographing for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation. So, this trip was paid for by the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation.

He replied, half joking: “Most people do.”

We three chuckled, less at the wittiness, and more at the truth of his statement.

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Yountville is wonderful.

It’s small and intimate, five square blocks of calm façades supported by a constant sense of urgency in the kitchens and spaces behind them.

The weather is particularly perfect, especially at this time of year: balmy stretches of sun and clouds bookended by crisp nights and foggy mornings.

The surroundings are beautiful. Napa is a valley of vineyards running between parallel ranges of mountains over which the sun jumps at the beginning and end of each day.

The food is fresh, abundant, and, in all other respects, excellent. And the wine, of course, is plentiful and good.

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As the photographer for the Bocuse d’Or USA Foundation, I went to document it all with my camera.

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Our mornings were fairly early. Our nights went fairly late.

And throughout the week, the team fielded interviews, with Ben Tracy of CBS This Morning, Paolo Lucchesi of Inside Scoop at the San Francisco Chronicle, and others.

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Lunches were usually quick and informal.

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Dinners were a little more relaxing.

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Beyond my time with the Bocuse d’Or USA team, I had a few meals on my own and with friends.

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After the Bocuse d’Or USA team left, I stayed an extra day in Napa.

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Just when I thought my time in Yountville was over, TKRG asked me to stay an extra day to photograph for the company.

That last day was a full one, the shot list was long. Up early, down late, I photographed every one of the TKRG establishments in Yountville, in addition to dozens of other locations.

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You know those restaurants you’ve been meaning to visit for ten years? I have long lists of them. And none is longer or harder to maintain than my New York list.

Despite the tremendous weight of evidence in favor of visiting this legendary pizzaiolo, I hadn’t. I was foolish.

While I prefer the square pie, I’d be irresponsible not to endorse both. They are phenomenal.

The square pie starts off more like focaccia. DeMarco pats the thick, oily dough into a well-greased pan and bakes it naked. As the dough bakes, he pulls it out of the oven several times (standing on boxes – were they full of beer or canned tomatoes? – to reach the upper oven). Each time, he lifts the corners of the crust and bathes it with a generous pour of olive oil. As the crust crisps, he adds the toppings – the same ones you’ll find on the round pie. The result is a molten, meteor-like bottom that’s crunchy and oily, with a fluffy, cooked center. It’s thick, but not heavy. It’s perfect, really. Unlike Chicago deep-dish pizza, which is rarely cooked evenly or adequately – there’s that fat middle section where you can’t tell when the uncooked dough ends and the cheese begins – this is a thing of beauty.

I spent a day with Adam of A Life Worth Eating.

I had never been to the Essex Street Market. So, Adam and I finished our day over tubes of cookies from Dorie Greenspan’s cubby-hole shop there, Beurre & Sel. Some of the cookies I tried were unusually dry, or doughy. But, I loved the “Classic Jammers,” a modified thumbprint cookie with berry jam and a streusel topping. That one was terrific.

Many have urged me to eat at the two Michelin-starred Soto. So, finally, I went.

The quality of Sotohiro Kosugi’s seafood, including the sea urchin (for which he has become known), is solid. But, I thought that some of his composed dishes, as pretty and imaginative as they were – including his famous “Uni Ika Sugomori Zukuri,” in which a small mound of sea urchin was wrapped, like a turban, with long, thick strips of squid, topped with a quail egg yolk, and decorated with strips of nori to mimic a spiny sea urchin shell – were a bit impractical to eat, especially with chopsticks alone.

I couldn’t escape (or, more accurately: resist) returning to a few restaurants that I’ve visited before.

I didn’t feel like my first visit to Dovetail, a one Michelin-starred restaurant on the Upper West Side, was representative of chef John Fraser’s potential. So, I decided to go back.

George Mendes was hosting a collaboration dinner among friends at his restaurant aldea. He invited me to attend as his guest.

The other chefs that night I knew well: John Shields, formerly of TownHouse (he is now in negotiations for a space in Washington, D.C.), and Scott Anderson of Elements in Princeton, New Jersey.

On my last day in New York, I gathered up all of the candies and pastries that I had collected over the week and made a breakfast out of them with Adam at his new apartment.

Afterwards, I met up with some friends at Aamanns of Copenhagen in TriBeCa for brunch. The original restaurant is in Copenhagen. This is its U.S. outpost.

Part of what makes New York so exciting to me is its constantly stir of new and shiny opportunities. I embrace it, and love the city for it.

Here are links to the photos of the food that I ate in New York:

Aamanns of Copenhagen (Manhattan)
aldea (Collaboration dinner with Shields and Anderson) (Manhattan)
bacaro (Manhattan)
Beurre & Sel (Manhattan)
Café Boulud (once, twice) (Manhattan)
Di Fara Pizza (Brooklyn)
dovetail (Manhattan)
Fatty Crab (Manhattan)
Lincoln Ristorante (Manhattan)
maialino (Manhattan)
per se (Manhattan)
Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop (Brooklyn)
Sarabeth’s East (Manhattan)
sockerbit (Manhattan)
soto (Manhattan)
wallsé (Manhattan)

* The famous portrait of Kurt Gutenbrunner that hangs in its bar dining room is by the artist Julian Schnabel.

review: personality, with a side of perfection…

travel: stars in the dining room, legends in the kitchen…

dinner: linger a little, laugh a lot…

dinner: oui, chef…

photo of the week 30: go team u.s.a….

bocuse d’or…

Bocuse d’Or

Team USA

Day 1: Monday, January 24

Day 2: Tuesday, January 25

Day 3: Wednesday, January 26

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travel: hipster safari…

travel: america’s resort…

travel: sense of urgency…

travel: the well-preserved patina of yesterday…

review: personality, with a side of perfection…

travel: stars in the dining room, legends in the kitchen…

dinner: linger a little, laugh a lot…

dinner: oui, chef…

photo of the week 30: go team u.s.a….

bocuse d’or…

Bocuse d’Or

Team USA

Day 1: Monday, January 24

Day 2: Tuesday, January 25

Day 3: Wednesday, January 26

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travel: hipster safari…

travel: america’s resort…

travel: sense of urgency…

travel: the well-preserved patina of yesterday…