We dined at The French Laundry on our first night in town - thinking that we would be in the best shape since we would not be coming in after a long day of tastings. (Plus that was the first day which we could get a reservation and we were not willing to endure another 45 minute session of hitting the redial button.) We quickly learned that people in-the-know refer to the The French Laundry as "The Laundry" - sort of like how locals used to say "Chris's" as opposed to "Ruth's Chris." Apparently it's the cool thing to do.
I waited till the second course to garner up the courage to ask if pictures were prohibited, so I missed the two amuse bouches and the first course, "Oysters and Pearls," which is one of the mainstays on TFL's constantly changing menu. The second amuse was the salmon ice cream cone - finely chopped smoked salmon placed atop a cracker like cone filled with red onion creme fraiche - and I could have eaten 100 of those.
We had 9 courses plus the two amuses, and some pictures came out better than the others. Here are my favorites:
There were two butters on the table: one salted and one unsalted (or sweet cream). One of the butters - and I can't remember which - is made specifically for Thomas Keller by a dairy farmer in Vermont. The salted butter in the silver ramekin was so amazing that The Pope ate it straight off the knife. No, I am not joking.
This was one of the choices for the fish course: Crispy Madara Cod Milt with Green Yuzu. I don't think that anyone knew that they were ordering deep fried cod sperm, and that's probably a good thing because they would have likely been turned off and missed out on the incredibly light and flavorful texture of the dish.
This was the finest piece of beef that I have ever put in my mouth. The cut, called a "calotte," is actually the cap of the ribeye. The knife sliced through the meat with only the slightest pressure. The accompanying purple cabbage and brisket dumpling with horseradish creme fraiche bursted with flavor.
I almost forgot: a surprise awaited us inside the menus when we arrived. A $150 white truffle supplemental course. Your choice of handmade pasta or risotto covered in shaved white truffles. The course included much pomp and circumstance - with the truffles arriving in a jewelry box and then shaved directly onto the plate. Unfortunately, none of us could justify adding 60% to the bill for one course. But we still got this picture.
At the end of the meal, each of the ladies were sent home with this box of mignardises (handmade chocolates) and a package of the best shortbread cookies which I have ever tasted - The Folk Singer believes in sharing.
This was just a snapshot of our 3.5 hour meal at "The Laundry." There were many other courses, and The Folk Singer had an entire different meal because she ordered the Tasting of Vegetables. And, of course, a few bottles of wine. Surprisingly though, TFL does not serve liquor. We discovered this fact after The Pope attempted to order a pre-dinner cocktail, and I thought that there was a significant chance that he might have called off the entire meal because there would be no Grand Marnier (aka "holy water") as a digestif. But he sucked it up and was a team player.
TFL is great, but it is quite a long production which you need to be mentally and physically prepared for. The meal hits everyone one of your senses and tastebuds, and quite honestly is rather exhausting. It's a meal which I had never experienced before. The attention to detail is something which (at least in my experience) is not found in many restaurants. And the raw ingredients are beyond reproach.
Finest meal of my life? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Probably not - I would like to try Bouchon on my next trip. But am I glad that we went? Without a doubt.
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3 comments:
This is going to be a rough week. I am going to try... TRY to be mature about this, and not simply dissolve into a pool of jealousy.
I am not likely to succeed.
Cod Sperm huh? That reminds me of a story I read about Aristotle Onassis. On hiss yacht he had barstools which were covered in a leather made from the foreskin of sperm whales. He liked to walk up to women sitting on the stools and tell them that they were "sitting on the biggest penis known to man."
Leave it to me to devalue an adult discussion.
All I will be eating this week is a waaaaburger and some french cries as another Saints season comes to a soul crushing end.
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