Showing posts with label Foie Gras. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Foie Gras. Show all posts

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Saturday night at Tru: upping the ante.

After our night at Charlie Trotter's, I wasn't sure what kind of dinner I'd be able to consume at Tru on Saturday. Then I picked myself up, reminded myself that I'm a food blogger and of the power of mind over matter, and met Nick and Louisa at their hotel for a pre-prandial cocktail.

We walked a few blocks south and east to the restaurant, which is one block off of Michigan Avenue, toward the lake. We sat for a few minutes in a sort of anteroom graced by several pieces of modern art (neon and bright colors abounded against the pure white walls), lilies on every little table, and a cart of after-dinner drinks. After our table had been readied, we made our way into the main dining room.

Tru is in an office building, and the dining room is dramatically high-ceilinged. The large windows are dressed in dramatic velvet drapes, and the widely-spaced tables are covered in white linen and surrounded by chairs upholstered in blue velvet. Nick found the dining room a bit severe, but I quite liked the serenity of it all. Some of the art was particularly pretty, especially a gray-and-white photographic print of birds in flight hung over the banquette on the southern wall. Loved.

The service at Tru was as impeccable as the dining room. Once we sat down (with little velvet stools for our purses - also very convenient for this photographer's camera), our head waiter brought us our menus and a wine list, along with three little gougères made with Comté cheese. These were delicious - light, flaky, and buttery - but I missed the peppery bite of Parmesan from my own homemade version.

As you can see, the table was beautifully-lit for photographs - like this one of our two kinds of butter (unsalted on the blue glass, salted on the green). The butter was AWESOME, as was the bread. Our unanimous favorite were the teeny, salted brioche rolls. Delicious.

After perusing our menus for a bit, we decided to do the standard three-course meal, which we thought would be a nice break from our tasting menu marathons at Trotter's and Alinea. We each ordered an appetizer and a main, Nick discussed wine with the charming (and adorable!) sommelier, and out came our amuses.

They were three little cups of seriously meaty and perfectly clear beef consommé, with a teeny ravioli at the bottom. I loved my sea life-themed cup, and the soup's deep flavor and expert execution seemed to telegraph the arrival of a good meal.

Oh, did I forget to mention this? Well, my friends, this is Tru's caviar staircase. As Louisa rightly pointed out, it looks like something out of an Esther Williams movie. This is the culinary equivalent of a show-stopping pool number if ever there was one.

From top to bottom, you have four types of caviar (starting with creamy Osetra), egg yolk, egg white, capers and red onion. Each of us was presented with toasted, buttered brioche, a dish of crème fraiche and a mother of pearl caviar spoon. We dug in like kids in a candy store and didn't stop till every last bit was gone. Can you blame us?

Hot on the heels of our caviar came our appetizers. Louisa ordered the beet salad with apples, which came with three different kinds of mousse (One was pumpkin, but the others escape me - Louisa, help a girl out?). The salad was fantastic; the beets were perfectly cooked, and the mousse that I tasted was creamy and full of pumpkin-y flavor. And, like everything else at Tru, it was gorgeously presented.

My appetizer was a very indulgent choice: seared foie gras served with a roasted pear, a strip of crispy bacon and a chestnut cream. Foie gras and autumn fruit are a classic match, and this pairing didn't disappoint. The pear was tart and lightly sweet and cut the rich foie gras quite well. The bacon lent a smoky note to the proceedings, while the chestnut cream (dotted with whole chestnuts) grounded everything with its earthy flavor. Magnificent.

Nick's starter was the beef tartare, which did not photograph well, but tasted amazing. Louisa and I agreed that it was a close second to our all-time favorite, the steak tartare at Camille in Paris. The presentation of Nick's dish was just as pretty as ours - the egg was coated in gold leaf. Really!

The organ meat parade continued during our main courses. Louisa ordered the veal cheeks and sweetbreads, which were served with an onion tart, figs and raisins. Tender, meaty and full of rich, fruity flavor - this dish was delicious. I loved the play of textures between the sweetbreads and the veal; after all, these are parts of the same animal, and for all their differences, they have some of the same precocious, just-beginning-to-develop beef flavor.

I decided to round out my ridiculously self-indulgent evening with an order of the lobster. Poached lobster was served on a bed of the most tender pasta I've ever tasted. The sauce was creamy and spiked slightly with tomato and rosemary and studded with perfectly-cooked broccoli. I can't remember the last time I saw broccoli pop up in haute cuisine, but its peppery, vegetal bite worked marvelously - I tasted the lobster in a whole new way.

Nick's main was, again, in the dark. He had the venison, and though venison is not my favorite thing, this version was deeply flavored and beautifully cooked. The meat was a jewel-like magenta color ringed by a razor-thin black sear. The best part of the venison, in my opinion, was the cabbage-wrapped cabbage that came along side. Cabbage taken to the next, sweet level. Amazing.

Next up, that lovely ritual of civilized dining, the cheese plate. I rarely partake, but I had a hunch that the cart at Tru would contain at least one or two cheeses that even this cheese-phobic could love. Most delicious of all was the cheese at 10 o'clock in the photo above - a triple cream, mustard-coated cow's milk cheese.

Eaten on a house-made hazelnut wafer with a bit of orange blossom honey, the triple-cream was a little bit like heaven, except not light and fluffy. Not light at all.

After a palate cleanser of tapioca and sorbet flavored with herbs and citrus, it was time for...

...dessert! Tru is a collaboration between savory chef Rick Tramonto and pastry chef Gale Gand. I've been a huge fan of Gand's ever since her show first aired on the Food Network way back when, so I was very excited for the last few courses.

Nick pre-ordered the gianduja souffle, which came with pumpkin ice cream. Louisa had the blueberry and lemon vacherin (you can see it in the background above), which was INSANELY good. The buttermilk cake was like a pancake, elevated, and the contrast of the warm cake, creamy mousse and cold sorbet was delightful.

My dessert, the deconstructed chocolate bar, blew Charlie Trotter's chocolate out of the water. A gravity-defying squiggle of milk chocolate cream was topped with a bit of tempered dark chocolate, accompanied by Butterfinger-esque crunchies, coffee ice cream, caramel mousse, and malted caramel. Oh. My. God. Just a few days prior, I'd been talking about how much I prefer fruit desserts to chocolate ones. If Gale Gand made all my chocolate desserts, she might just end in converting me.

But wait - there's more! Out came the mignardises on their little cart (Again, note the elegant, French-style service - carts galore!), and I couldn't help myself. I tried five out of six options available. The pumpkin macaron was a bit too soft and sweet for my tastes, but I do have to admit it melted in my mouth.

Just above that is the apricot marshmallow, which was delicious. Fluffy as a cloud and impossibly fruity. The chocolate-whiskey lollipop was nice and boozy (we were warned ahead of time that the alcohol hadn't been burned off), and the passionfruit pate de fruits made me very, very happy (as all jellied things are apt to do.

Finally, the cannelé, which was a revelation. I've never been much of a fan; the cannelés I've tried have all been far too rum-soaked for me. I'm not a rum-lover, and I don't care for mushy pastry, so you can see my issue. This one, though, was perfect. The rum glaze had hardened to a satisfying crunch, and the spongy cake inside was, well, spongy - not mushy. I must master the cannelé.

And, finally, the last touch that signaled a trend in the weekend's dining. These pumpkin-saffron truffles were huge, but we were instructed to eat them entirely in one bite. As it turns out, they were coated in only the lightest chocolate shell, and the filling was a milk-like (as opposed to ganache-like) consistency. All of that meant one thing: it exploded in your mouth.

Trust me when I tell you that - no matter how long or specific the disclaimer - you are never, ever prepared to have something explode in your mouth. (Insert your giggling here - believe me, we did.) It's delightful and surprising, every single time.

All in all, I think it's safe to say that I loved our meal at Tru. I loved the service, I loved the dining room (though, like Louisa, a bit more buzz would've been welcome), and the food made me indescribably happy. It's not revolutionary, but it's interesting, and is also beautifully and thoughtfully done.

I can't wait to go back.

Tru
676 N. St. Clair Street (between Erie and Huron)
Chicago, Illinois
312.202.0001

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

No kitchen nightmare, this.

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Cristin called me up and asked if I was busy one impending Friday night. I had some vague, misty plans, which promptly blew aside when she mentioned what she was calling about - for her birthday gift, her lovely boyfriend Paul had booked the chef's table at Gordon Ramsay at the London. Buh-bye, half-laid plans; hello nine-course dinner!

The nine lucky guests gathered in the bar just ahead of our 8 PM reservation. Our cast of characters for the evening:

Cristin, the birthday girl
Paul, the generous host
Connie, Cristin's oldest friend
Dan, Connie's husband and dog walker
Jasmine, a colleague of Cristin's
John, Jasmine's husband
Priya, another colleague of Cristin's, and quite the foodie in her own right
Rohit, Priya's husband, a devotee of sweet and fortified wines
Me!

After a cocktail in the bar (a glass of Ayala brut for me, my absolute favorite champagne from my trip last fall, and rarely to be found here in the States), we trouped back through the dining room, down a long, narrow hallway lined with wine refrigeration, and into the hot, bustling kitchen.

We were seated at a stainless steel horseshoe-shaped table facing the pass, and since the table and its banquette were raised a couple of feet off the floor, we had a clear view of the entire kitchen, all the way down to the end where the food for the more casual restaurant, Maze, is prepared. The pass was directly in front of us, so we had a front-row seat to the executive and sous-chef's doings all night long.

The meal was one of the longest I've ever had, with eleven courses spread over four and a half hours. There were canapes, two dishes featuring foie gras, three fish courses, and three desserts (not counting the cheese or the petits fours). Each course was paired with a different wine, starting with champagne and finishing with a sherry from 1971 (the birthday girl's birth year, it's worth noting).

Each course was introduced by the cook responsible for it - the guy working the fish line introduced the scallops, the cold appetizer guy told us all about the crudo, and the grill cook told us all about our filet, and the most adorable (and patient) captain painstakingly carved and served our cheese course.

For me, the highlights of the meal were the crudo and the quail. Well, those and watching Cristin learn from the pastry chef how to make a souffle. But first things first: that crudo. Delicate circles of pale swordfish and flushed tuna were served with paper-thin slices of cucumber - the crisp cucumber added some crunch to the fleshy, unctuous fish, and the soya dressing added a hint of richness. The dish was satisfying but light, substantial but ethereal. Really, really well done.

Quail and liver make a classic pair - Ouest serves roasted quail with a side of duck liver risotto, and dinner party hosts have been impressing their quests with quail stuffed with foie gras for years now. Both represent impractical luxury at its finest - quail with its tiny bones and little bitty pieces of meat, and foie gras with its time- and care-intensive production - and both are delectably, delicately rich. This presentation was no exception - a seared leg of quail flavored with honey and soy was presented atop a sweet-and-savory pear chutney (fall creeping into the menu there), alongside a seared lobe of foie gras. We eaters were left to mix and match meat and liver to our hearts' content.

Once we'd made it through the savory courses (save the cheese), the smokers declared it was time for a break, and the rest of us started poking around the kitchen. Josh, the executive chef, took Cristin back to the pastry station, where the pastry chef and his assistant taught her all about the fine art of souffle-making (whipping the egg whites, folding in the sugar, and so on). She very much enjoyed the lesson, which she attended under Gordon's watchful eye - you know what they say: if you can't be there, a wire sculpture of your imposing mug is the next best thing.


Chef's Table
Gordon Ramsay at The London
September 28, 2007
Photos of the full menu

Selection of canapes
~
Melon sorbet with watermelon, blood orange and tomato
~
Confit of Hudson Valley foie gras with slow-cooked free-range chicken
and micro green herb salad
Joh. Jos. Prum, Graacher Himmelreich, Mosel 2004
~
Carpaccio of swordfish and tuna with cucumber, herb salad and soya dressing
Riesling Rosenbourg, Paul Blanck 2004
~
Hand-dived scallops roasted with spices, golden raisin puree
and cauliflower beignets
Alex Gambal Chassagne-Montrachet 2003
~
Braised Pacific halibut larded with smoked salmon,
Romaine hearts, artichokes and marinated lemon, served with
smoked horseradish veloute
Godello, As Sortes, Rafael Palacios, Valdeorras 2005
~
Honey and soy roasted quail with sauteed foie gras
and spiced pear chutney
Corton, Grand Cru Les Combes, Chateau Genot-Boulanger 2002
~
Filet of Brandt beef and braised shortrib, spaetzle with
shallot confit and beef jus
Mayacamas, Napa Valley Cabernet 1992
~
Selection of cheeses
Chateau La Clotte-Cazalis 2003
~
Pineapple puree, vanilla yoghurt, pineapple granite, coconut tuiles
Apple and caramel trifle with cider granite, cinammon doughnut
~
Valrhona chocolate fondant with caramelized banana ice cream,
vanilla moelleux and malted milk
Bodegas Toro Albala, PX, Gran Reserva, Montilla-Moriles 1971

Thursday, May 3, 2007

Where they give you two kinds of butter...

I have yet to sit down and do the experience justice, but just wanted to let all my faithful readers that a post on dinner at Per Se is forthcoming. I promise. A very detailed post.

In the meantime, a little something to whet your appetite...terrine of foie gras in an apricot gelee (also known as the salad course - really).
Photo courtesy of Kiplog.com

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