The "trendy" national restaurant model these days serves house-made meatloaf or sausage balls in small plates portions and sells PBR by the can for $2. There is no dress code, so if you walk in wearing LL Bean Duck boots and a fanny pack over a bright pink leotard... sweet. Your waiter is the cook and also the butcher, presentation minimal, the room shellacked in wood paneling adorned with deer heads, and your chair will not have a back. The whole experience is meant to make you feel like a pauper dining in a hunting lodge with Truman Capote. The concept works and produces great results when done correctly.
The people behind
Le Foret did not get that memo. This restaurant is a return to formal meals that mean something. Soup is poured tableside, you have a captain and two to three waiters per table, the room's white and cream tones are literally gilded, and your tush rests comfortable on a padded, backed chair. The whole experience makes you feel like a prince dining in Versailles with Winston Churchill. If the old adage rings true, "When others zig, you zag," Le Foret will be the best restaurant in New Orleans in no time.
Before our story begins, let's back up. Le Foret opened a few months ago at 129 Camp, after an extensive renovation of a building that had been abandoned for thirty (yes, 30) years. The chef is Jimmy Corwell, a Certified Master Chef. There are only sixty chefs in America with the title, and Chef Corwell is the only one in Louisiana. (For more info on what becoming a CMC entails read Michael Ruhlman's
Soul of a Chef.)
Lindsay and I went last week at the tail end of the first decade of the 21st Century. And without a doubt, it was the best meal we had in New Orleans in 2009. In fact, Lindsay liked it so much she went back the next day. There are no pictures as it was night time. But let me say this. The food, setting, and service is all meticulous and strives for a perfection seen only at Michelin 3 Star Restaurants and one or two other spots in New Orleans.
As soon as we sat down in the chandelier ornamented, candlelit room, we were greeted with two fluffy black truffle and Parmesan gougeres. The airy gougeres evaporated on your tongue leaving a pleasant sensation of warmth and truffle. As we perused our menus and sipped cocktails, we decided to go with the Chef's tasting menu which had five courses for $60. That works out to $12 per course for those playing at home, which coincidentally is about what most "trendy, small plate" places charge.
Then the first amuse bouche- cauliflower semifreddo with jumbo lump crabmeat and caviar. This dish proved two things. First, the kitchen has the technical skills to compete. The semifreddo had the consistency of a thick pudding with the subtle sweetness of the crabmeat and the icy cold saltiness of the caviar providing both textural and flavorful counterpoints. Second, the food is not overly fussy. There was nothing more on the stark white plate, then a small disk of cauliflower, a chunk of crab and a spoon of caviar. Simplicity, refined.
Next up, another amuse. This time a beautifully arranged trio of teases. First, up was a veloute of sweet onion and Anjou pear. The sensation of sipping the veloute was not unlike taking a deep sip of a rich and satisfying cup of tea. Only the flavors were more floral and sweet. Then a rabbit rillette with a rabbit shaped sesame cracker. Finally a petite dice of shrimp set in a creamy dressing and placed on top of a cucumber.
Our first course was a Butternut squash puree with foie gras mousse, mushrooms, and a bacon chip. The soup was poured from a silver decanter tableside and was smoother than Drew Brees in the pocket. Rather than load the puree up with butter or cream, the chef used the foie gras mousse to add richness and mouth feel to the soup. As the mousse slowly blended with the soup, the two disparate elements combined to create one harmonious dish. Pure genius.
The second course was a tuna cassoulet. The weather on this night was cold and rainy, so seeing cassoulet I was very ready for something warming and filing. But that was not the direction the dish went. And this is where the meal went into overdrive for me.
At the bottom of a large bowl, were some perfectly cooked white beans and haricot vert. On top of this was a puck of tuna encased in a crunchy wrapping of pancetta and garlic puree. The outside of the tuna had a uniform ring of sear as if it was a visitor with just one toe in your door. Although not heavy, the dish managed to be deeply satisfying. Just a delicious dish which showed that the cooking had not only precision, but soul as well.
Next was an herb and shallot crusted noisette of venison set awash in a thick demi-glace. While we both had some silver streaks of fat running through our meat which were tough, the cooking of the venison was spot on medium rare. On top of the venison was an intricate design of pureed and fried onions thickened with some potatoes. The garnish provided a crust to the soft, juicy meat.
But it was the cheese course that stole our hearts. A salad dressed simply with lemon and olive oil sat next to mousse of Roquefort cheese which sat on top of a beet sauce. However, upon second look the beet sauce was not a sauce at all. Rather it was a slice of beet cut so thin it appeared to be liquid. The Roquefort was the perfect anchor on a dish of tastes, its creamy pungency highlighting the earthy, sweetness of the beet and the tart salad.
Finally a souffle with Valrhona chocolate sauce, then mignardises of French Macaroons and ginger jellies. Again, all of it impeccably prepared. Washed all of it down with a 2004 Chateau La Nerthe, and you know
how I feel about that wine. Good wine list, but even better is an expansive, glass enclosed wine cellar which climbs the height of the first floor. When a bottle of wine is ordered, a member of the staff scurries up a library ladder and pulls down the selection.
A really great meal, be it in a bbq shack or a high end temple of gastronome, always has a few telltale signs. The first, is what happens to conversation at the table? As we ate at Le Foret, all the end of the year concerns, questions, and comments fell to the wayside. All we did was talk about the food we had eaten, were eating, or would eat. Not only was the kitchen focused, but we were as well. We are still talking about that meal, a week later.
Secondly, are there any little touches to make it an exceptional meal? Here, the soft butter and house baked brioche which was refreshed after each course, a rabbit shaped cracker, and the beet masquerading as a sauce all provided those little touches. As we left, we noticed our car had already been pulled to the front and the hostess stood at the ready with a package for both Lindsay and me. Inside, we found a Madeleine and were instructed by the hostess to enjoy it with coffee the next day.
Finally, did the cooking have emotion/soul/feeling? Sometimes despite a high-end restaurant's best intention, the experience seems sterile and manufactured. This was not the case at Le Foret. The food had that undefinable "soul" quality. Whether you are a $7 hot plate lunch or an indulgent dining experience, you can tell when a place truly cares. Le Foret cares. It was a great meal.
Le Foret will not be for everyone but you should give it a try. The service and cooking is highly polished, refined, and contagious if you like being spoiled. It is an expensive meal. Is it worth it? Absolutely, I am already planning on going back.
Le Foret - Birdie, dangerously close to Eagle.
Hire Jimmy Corwell. Leave the current kitchen staff there; they can handle the traditional menu and those large banquets. Give Corwell and whatever crew he can find, one room and one menu. Let him create the next Oysters Rockefeller. Let guests once again feel like they are eating in the greatest restaurant in the world. A juxtaposition of the old and the new. You want Oysters Foch? You got it. A puree of butternut squash topped with a foie gras mousse and truffles? Of course. You have a waitstaff any 3 star Michelin restaurant would pay to have. You added a bar. Take it one step further. 
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