Gascogne

Being so far away from home, it is a blessing to be able to share one's birthday with friends. It is an even greater blessing to have them go through the trouble of choosing restaurants based on thorough research, for the one dish that you love on a fall night, and endure all your rubbish about changing dates and times. So on Friday night, me, my roommates and some friends met at Gascogne for dinner.
Situated in Chelsea, Gascogne is a charming French bistro, with warm lighting, a genial staff and country-inn like decor. We were there early and got seated with no trouble, but by the time we left at 930, the seating area near the door was full, with would-be patrons drinking and snacking on crusty peasant bread the staff thoughtfully brought out. It also has the requisite tight New York quarters, so a group of six (as we were) is probably as comfortably big as it gets. On warmer days, garden seating is available and while we did not attempt to freeze ourselves on Friday, the twinkly fairy lights look very inviting indeed.
Gascogne focuses on rustic French dishes and has a game-oriented menu. The specials board listed pheasant, quail and venison. We were spoilt by the choice and the portions when the food came, so unaccustomed we were after 2 years in New York to see Midwestern portions in restaurants. Indeed, Walter's and Ceci's bisques were served not in cups but tureens and Gerrie's foie gras was a very generous, albeit oily slab. Yanru's pork dish reminded me of wiener schnitzel, rounded and crisp, while Justin's escargot were pretty wrapped in phyllo over a rich garlic sauce, an elegant take on the rustic baked escargot appetizer.
My entree was the cassoulet, which is a favorite dish, especially on a chilly night like Friday. A deep casserole of white beans, simmered in a tomato based stock, absorbs all the flavors of fatty bacon, duck confit, garlicky sausages and herbs. Bread crumbs scattered on the top of the dish adds color and crunch. While some others on the table thought the dish was overly aggressive on the garlic, I loved it, the thick pork sausages, the golden skin on the duck, and the starring beans, neither mushy nor crunchy but just right. Unfortunately I had lunch at Chipotle, but no matter, because the cassoulet tasted great even as leftovers.
Desserts were similarly huge and large on flavor. Prunes and Chantilly cream were steeped in heady Armagnac, while the apple tart slick with a perfectly burnt caramel sauce, so tasty we almost licked our plates. And the crepe Suzette, while not as crispy as the ones Madeleine makes, was saturated with a mixture of orange juice and liquor, and came alit with a candle and a rousing rendition of a birthday song. Thank you, thank you.

Gascogne
158 8th Ave (On 18th St)
http://gascognenyc.com/

Jean Georges

My little sister is in town for the very first time and like a proud, slightly over-coddling older sibling, I was eager to show her quintessentially New York scenes. She's covered the sights on her own, from the verdant fields in Central Park to the garishly mesmerizing lights in Times Square, so I decided to induct her to the decadent New York dining scene at Jean Georges.
The menu is built like this: for $28, one can choose two dishes from about 15 dishes, with each additional savory dish $12 and dessert for $8. To start, fresh bread and a trio of amuse bouches are served. The amuse bouches were fun, each yielding different textures and flavors. The pinkie sized ball of mozzarella was mild and sweet, the corn fritters a crispy bite while the cucumber water with lime "foam" tended to be a touch acidic, with a spicy kick at the end. Each bite into my starter, a bowl of corn ravioli, brings forth a burst of sweetness characteristic of fresh corn. The slightly charred kernels tasted a little like pop-corn, while the beautiful tomatos, at the peak of tomato season, was packed with flavor. Likewise, Ruoyi's ruby ribbons of tuna, a ceviche of sorts in a tangy ginger and soy based sauce was artfully presented and tasted as great as it looked.
A platter of expertly fried sweetbreads extended the summery theme, when paired with slightly tart roasted peaches and peppery arugula. A dash of pink peppercorn salt for added flavor and pizzazz. Throughout the menu, Ruoyi's braised short-rib was the only concession to the coming of fall weather, and it was no-frills but very hearty, though its vinegar base a tad sour.
No meal ends without dessert, and so we shared the summer themed one, as if that would make autumn stop dead in its tracks. The cherry souffle, with its fluffy purplish and white peak was pleasant but the accompanying cheese with peaches suffered from very aggressive cheese.
Even if one opted out of dessert, Jean Georges is still not letting you go without something sweet and petit fours are rolled out in style. We delighted in the surprisingly pleasant licorice-flavored chocolate bon bon, with a slight anisey rush at the very end, and ruoyi loved the plump marshmallow pillows that the server cut out of long marshmallow ribbons, particularly the strawberry ones, complete with seeds. Last but not least were lilliputan macarons that would surely interest any miniature enthusiasts.
In the realm of fine dining, Ruoyi is a convert. And who wouldn't be, when for a fraction of what dinner costs, one can immerse in the soothing grey and mauve surroundings and be treated, if not like kings and queens, then at the very least like princesses?

Jean Georges
1 Central Park West

JoJo

Ruoying was in New York again, this time in transit for a few days before she starts her internship in Atlanta. To celebrate the end of another school year for her, a nice dinner was in the order. Ruoying loves beautiful interior design, atmospheric spaces (she goes to disneyland to bask in corporate happiness) and is our family's final arbiter of all things stylish. And after struggling between the "tres paris" brasserie Balthazar and the jewelbox JoJo, I went for the latter.
The food at JoJo is very enjoyable, and similar to what Ruoying and I had at Nougatine, another Jean Georges Vongerichten's restaurant. Ruoying's duck entree married two concepts Jean Georges is particularly known for, light modern french cooking with an Asian accent. Her dish paired gamey tasting, perfectly medium rare slices of duck breast with a spring roll of duck, golden brown and redolent of chinese five spice and shitake mushroom. Given the chef's french roots, certain dishes had a decidedly french flair. The fries for one were fresh, crispy and well salted. My roasted chicken with its crispy skin and wonderfully moist meat sat in a gentle ginger broth, but was more Provencal than Asian with the addition of green olives and preserved lemon rind. The chickpea fries (tastes like hummus, shaped like french toast strips and textured like fried polenta) indicated an homage to the Mediterranean, was a tasty side but a little dense. Jean Georges has been credited with the creation and popularization of the now ubiquitous molten chocolate cake. Paired with a scoop of vanilla bean icecream, this is one most mundane dessert. However, JoJo's version is swoon worthy, a small concentrated disk of high quality chocolate, with the velvet softness of the cake in contrast with the warm ooze of molten chocolate playing at the tip of one's tongue.

After hearing all about the intimate boudoir-ish decor and superior atmosphere, we were a little let down to find JoJo's interior, with its mini chandeliers, deep velvet banquettes and heavy brocade drapings a little too precious, a little too dated. A great date place for couples it with have been, with flattering dim lighting and a mostly soothing atmosphere, if not for the cramped seating and awkward positioning of all the two tops in the restaurant. I tried and did not find a table for two that offered enough privacy for a romantic tete-a-tete. I had requested for a table for two on the charming and slightly brighter upstairs dining room, but was given a makeshift table (possibly a picnic table moved upstairs just to accomodate by request) placed along the staircase, with Ruoying knocking on the potted plants behind her everytime she moved her seat. We quickly requested a change of tables and were then seated on the banquette downstairs. They were comfortable if not still very cramp and served our purposes, but the placing is set so strangely that we were not seated across each other but next to each other in a right angle. I ended up staring at the diner on the next table everytime I lifted my head from the dishes. Fine by me, but I bet he was hoping to be looking at his wife instead of an stranger for a good 2 hours.

The seating arrangements however made it easy for us to conduct a conversation with the couple next to us, and the lady who was celebrating her birthday with her husband sidled next to us, to say somewhat conspiratorially that we were the two youngest tables in the room. We concurred despite the fact that she must have been at least 10 years older than the both of us, because the rest of the diners were slightly older, and we spotted a table of sprightly octagenarians celebrating their friendship in a table nearby. But in no way did I feel mistreated for being too young, and for the price, which is very reasonable (entrees ~ $20-30) for new york standards and on par with hipper downtown joints, the food was certainly a notch better.

Will I be back? Probably for the cake, and certainly before I turn 65.

JoJo

160 E64th St (Park & Lexington Ave)

(212) 223-5656

Cafe Boulud

If WD-50 represents downtown edginess, than Cafe Boulud epitomizes the upper crust, bourgeois lifestyle enjoyed by many living on the Upper East Side. It is therefore no surprise then that the UES is coincidentally where the restaurant is located. While a meal at the upscale casual Cafe Boulud is not a $200 pax shindig at Chef Boulud's eponymous 4-star restaurant, it is still pretty prohibitive on my budget, since I neither work in a hedge fund nor have access to a trust fund. Fortunately for me, my uncle generously treated both Dawn and I to an amazing meal.
Our $38 3 course pre-fixe meal started with an amuse bouche of tuna tartar topped with an apple slice and mushroom gelee effectively wakening our tastebuds with the clean and crisp tastes. I selected my appetizer based on my last experience with the mushroom soup at Cafe Boulud with Pakshun a while ago. The decadently rich soup did not disappoint and was as earthy and thick this time as it was the last, coating my tongue with the essence of mushroom and a lot of heavy cream.
Of the three entree choices available, I picked the lightly and well-cooked salmon presented with the most precious mini carrots in whites and pale yellows. Unfortunately the slightly bitter vegetables did not taste as good as they looked. The obsession with mini-greens extended to Dawn's plate as well, as tiny nubs of brussel sprouts adorned her duo of duck. The mini brussel sprouts were excellent and very seasonal, as was the duck.
For dessert, we both selected a visually stunning and scrumptious baked alaska, which was perched on top of orange and ruby red grapefruit slices and a slightly tart citrus soup, which provided a great contrast to the sweet meringue, lemon flavored cake and icy cool icecream tucked in the middle of the confection.
At this point, we normally would have rubbed our distended bellies and called for the check. But the best is yet to come! My most vivid memory of the meal Pakshun and I had at Cafe Boulud was the yummy mini madeleines the servers set in front of every table after the main meal, and we ate the eggy sea-shell shaped delights up, 3 each with our coffee and tea. It tasted so good when we were already bloated, so just imagine the possibilities if we had been starving!
Fine (or in this case, casual fine dining) can be intimidating for young people used to places with less cutlery, and Dawn and I certainly looked a little out of place, being at least 20 years younger than most of the other diners. One of the biggest fears I have eating out is not using the wrong cutlery, but being discriminated against for being a youthful and less discerning diner. Service at Cafe Boulud was however polite but not obsequious and comfortable enough for everyone of all ages to enjoy. I do believe that Dawn and I were given a less desirable seat, a banquette where we sat next to each other instead of opposite each other, because we did not look like we would complain. We were admittedly late for our lunch appointment on a busy Friday afternoon, so I did not complain as well. However, somewhere between my meal, I conversed casually to the maitre d' about the restaurant layout and specifically about our table and the way it was set up. I believe he understood the cues and decided to make it up to us in a roundabout way by inviting us into the kitchen, where we met the really young chefs responsible for our meal and thanked them for the solid lunch experience. All latent unhappiness about the seats were immediately zapped away by the special attention, although admitted I am easy to please. Some people believe that there should not be a bad seat in a good restaurant at all, and that the act of giving me the seat was ungracious in itself. But I thought the maitre d's special treatment was a pretty crafty but smart one, as it effectively quelled our discontentment over the seats without directly acknowledging it was their their fault. Simple yet masterful, just like the rest of Cafe Boulud. A maneuver worthy of emulation indeed.

Cafe Boulud
20 E 76th St (Between 5th & Madison Ave)

Brunch at Balthazar

An American tradition I have not really picked up all these years is the concept of Sunday brunch. Sure, I like the occasional pancake but I can do that for breakfast and still have lunch as a separate meal. Also, the criminally long waits for overpriced plates of eggs are often not worth the effort. However, there are certain sunshiny holiday weekends when you want to run out of the house into a bustling restaurant to soak in the festive atmosphere, to indulge in well made brunch classics with friends. For that purpose, Balthazar is a perfect choice.
Balthazar is perennially crowded, and at brunch time on Sunday, it is practically a zoo. However, once we were led to our tight little corner right next to the floor length windows that allowed the sunlight to stream into the cavernous room, I forgot the short but uncomfortable wait near the doorway, and smiled as I took in the room, the high walls, the bronze etched ceiling, towering platters of fruit de mare and the frothy bowls of au laits.
While the décor is classic French brasserie, the food was decidedly more American and very good on most accounts. Gerrie’s salad, the only thing off the regular menu that we ordered was laced with a brightly acidic vinaigrette. The egg dishes were varied and interesting. Yanru’s had a decidedly Italian flair, perched atop thick creamy polenta cakes and served with tomatoes and pancetta; Emily’s was lightly poached in a decadent red wine and bacon sauce while Xiaohong’s was scrambled and stuffed into a puff pastry. Unfortunately, the eggs were a little overcooked, marring the pretty picture of eggs in an edible shell. Dawn’s brioche French toast was thick, yummy and a perfect foil for the best bacon I’ve had in a while. Smoked salmon with brioche toast and the traditional garnishes of capers, chives and egg is the French version of bagel and lox and I happily bartered the extra slices from my generous platter of smoked salmon for bites off my friends’ plates. We washed down our meals with cups of coffee and then shared a portion of superior fries just because, hey who doesn’t like fries?
Blasé service at slammed brunch palaces is a common complaint and the servers at Balthazar can be a little tricky to wave down in a room buzzing with activity. But when the servers did get to us, they brought bread, extra coffee and water as swiftly as they could, remembered what each of us ordered and put the correct cutlery on each place setting. Sitting in the warm and delicious smelling room, watching happy and therefore smiley diners around you enjoy their food, chatting comfortably with your friends without actually having to yell, I have to say I understand the appeal of brunch at Balthazar. If a meal was taking a two hour holiday from the real world, Balthazar had transported me to a smoky brasserie in Paris (sans the cigarettes).

Balthazar

80 Spring St (Bet Broadway & Crosby)

Brasserie LCB

2 days since my dinner at Brasserie LCB and I am still reeling from dinner. Was I reeling from the thick gooeyness of the french onion soup? Or the creamy unctuousness of the foie gras terrine? Or was it the perfectly light grand marnier souffle served with a rich creme anglais that concluded our satisfying meal? Perhaps it was the polished service or the lively dinner conservation with a bunch of loud and fun friends...


Sadly, it was the price of my entree, a plate of dover sole meuneire, an entree that was priced to market. Was it good? Sure, the flesh was delectably fresh, the fish being lightly dredged in flour and fried, served with some unmemorable greens and a very fall-like sweet potato puree. But was it worth the price? At $45, a resolute no. Especially when most of the other entrees on the menu was well within the $20-30 bracket and the grilled salmon served on a bed of sauerkraut that katy had enjoyed was only $23, half what I had paid for my more "exotic" fish. I could have had lobster for $10 less. Why is sole so expensive beats me. Ah well, serves me right for not checking the prices before hand....
Despite the sticker shock, the restaurant, with its very old-world charm (with mainly septuagenarians as diners to boot), solidly executed traditional dishes ( the older-fashioned the dish, the better) and amazing souffles is still a pretty decent choice for a night of slightly expensive french fare. Just be sure, as with everywhere else you go, to ask for the prices of specials or be subject to ordering something that could eventually be too much to stomach.

Brasserie LCB Rachou
60th W55th St (Bet 5th and 6th Ave)

Nougatine

It was a hot, sultry afternoon on the last week of May. The girls' blouses were damp by the time they reached Trump International Hotel and gratefully they ducked into the cool recesses of the towering building. The droning noise from the streets ceased as they entered the hotel's famous restaurant and were greeted by a trio of smiling hostesses. "Welcome to Jean-Georges. Your table is ready. "
Today, I played hooky from studying and with Ruoying, was set to enjoy 3 hours pretending to be a lady who lunch. Our destination, Nougatine, the casual dining space adjacent to Jean Georges, celebrity chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten's flagship restaurant. While we couldn't afford to feast on caviar on coddled eggs, thanks to a welcome attempt to bring elegant dining to the masses, were able to enjoy a 3 course lunch for $24.07 each. Walking into the restaurant, we were brought into a cool and airy space that was Nougatine. The bright and clean room, along with powerful air-conditioning, helped cool us down as we contemplated the short menu, consisting of 2 choices for each of the 3 courses. We chose everything naturally, save for the pasta dish that neither one was willing to forgo the steak for.
The appetizers came soon after we finished our first rolls, which were cold but tasty as cold rolls went.
A pink watermelon gazpacho slid easily down the throat, occasionally surprising us with the sharpness coming from the chili mixed into the soup. A dish of a poached egg wobbling atop a bed of asparagus and shaved bacon bits on the hand was hearty and highlighted the sweetness of fresh and young asparagus perfectly.
Soon after, entrees were served. Both of us ordered the steak with ginger polenta and sauteed greens. The meat was flavorful but why did it remind us of chinese sauteed beef? Perhaps it was the ginger, too familiar to our Asian tastebuds. Still, the beef was nicely done despite the ginger overkill.
Desserts came next, two simply dishes, unfussy but not unsophisticated. The blueberry pie was sweet and tart, the fruit sauce further accentuated by a tinge of meyer lemon and a light vanilla ice cream flecked with vanilla bean. The white chocolate pot de creme with strawberry sorbet and a light chocolate mousse was light but rich at the same time, and the tartness of the fruit helped quell the queasiness from eating too much cream.
Too soon, lunch was over. While not a stunning meal, it was still a solid lunch and a welcome respite from the mundane life of a working lady and a student. Sated, we walked out of the hotel back into the crowded streets of New York, allowing the humid air to lull us into a dull drowsiness that the big meal had started for us...

Les sans culottes

"Do you want to go to yoga with me on friday?" Rosie asked. "Sure, but only if we go out for dinner after that" was my reply... so on friday we had yoga, but my focus was more on the ensuing meal. No wonder my balance was a little off... Anyway, I had wanted to eat korean food but Rosie was more inclined towards something French, and having consulted with Andreea, decided to try les sans culottes, it being french, cheap and close enough from the gym. Besides Rosie and I, Andreea, Yanru and Ruoying also joined in for a night of over-eating.
At around 830, we walked into a busy room, and there wasn't a table large enough to fit the five of us. A couple sitting on the long banquette offered to move so that we could join two tables together, but luckily, it didn't take long before another couple left, leaving us enough room without having to trouble any other patrons into moving for us.
Le sans culottes has a really cheap pre-fixe menu. $22 for appetizers, entrees and dessert... what a deal! Of course the food wasn't very delicate, but its not a fancy shmancy kinda place anyway. So we had a good, hearty meal consisting of crudites, pate and sausage for appetizers, entrees of our choice (all huge platters, and pretty decently, if plainly cooked) and our choice of creme caramel or chocolate mousse.. Andreea broke her diet for dessert, but we all decided it was well worth it... Yanru had dinner before joining us, so she declined to have the whole meal and opted just to get dessert and helped herself to the ample appetizers on the table. More on Yanru's crepe later.
The appetizers were the most gimmicky I've had in a while. Instead of individual salads, we were given a huge basketful of vegetables and fruits, whole apples and tomatos, big slices of cantaloupe and a big chunk of cabbage... we didn't really know what to do with it, since raw cabbage isn't the most appetizing of vegetables. And the three foot sausages came draped on a cage like contraption, like a sausage tree... It looked a little curious looking, and we were slightly put off by the comically grotesque sight in the beginning, but once we got past that, and the thought that many others had handled the sausages with their bare hands before us, we had a lot of fun slicing off the parts we wanted to eat and watched the sausages get shorter and shorter as the night went on.
The entrees were ok, v. filling but nothing to wow about. Rosie complained about the mussels in her pasta being overcooked while there were too many bones in my trout. It tasted a little frozen too, but still pretty tasty.
Desserts were again simple, but pretty tasty. Again, 22 dollars... i will not complain tt there are only two choices of dessert, especially when one is my favorite flan. Yanru decided to get a more substantial dessert off the a la carte menu since she did not order dinner, and got a huge crepe filled with icecream... The owner of the restaurant jokingly brought her crepe out a lot earlier before he brought ours, because he said since she's been waiting patiently for us to finish our meals before getting her own food, its only fair that we should watch her eat now... And the best part about the crepe, besides it being thin warm, and filled with vanilla icecream? it was FREE!!! when was the last time you had something FREE?? the owner decided that Yanru deserved to have a crepe on the house, and he didn't charge her for it! definitely made our day =) So overall, an affordable, fun-filled night with great eating buddies. what more can a cheapskate glutton hope for?
Last curious point about the restaurant. apparently the name stand for "without underwear" and its supposed to have some kind of political connotations to it. If someone would enlighten me that would be very helpful!

Les sans culottes east
2nd Ave, between 57th and 58th st