Well Fed On the Town

I wrote this in May when I graduated from high school. Enjoy!

I woke up staring at my wall, like every other morning. I’d been doing the same routine for twelve years, but this was the last day of it. No more buses (even though after eighth grade you wouldn’t be caught dead in a bus if you were going to attempt to be ‘cool’), no more dealing with prom and awkward pep assemblies, and now the cliques that had dominated the past years of my existence would be no more - I’d been waiting for this. This day was supposed to be the finale, the final paragraph in a big chapter of my life. And I wasn’t looking towards walking down and getting my diploma at all. I mean, I wanted my diploma, I just didn’t want to have to sit through three hours of people quoting Dr. Seuss’ Oh, The Places You’ll Go. I was looking forward to 7 o’clock that night. Mizuna.

I live for food. Not only do I consume copious amounts of it, I write about it, read about it and fabricate it. The ability that a meal can be a cornerstone in ones day, week or possibly life has a certain appeal to me that nothing else does. And although Mizuna is relatively expensive, a blockbuster meal can be along the likes of what Anthony Bourdain enjoys: BBQ on a beach with his wife. The man has been to the best restaurant in the world (El Bulli in Spain) and the most expensive restaurant in America (Masa in New York), yet it was the sublime surroundings that made his beach meal memorable; the sand in his toes, the sound of the waves, the sun beating down making whatever cold drink he was drinking that much more refreshing. It’s not just the food, it’s the situation.

Although I have an affinity for fine-dining, the appeal of a roast chicken with my whole family trumps struggling to arrive at an overrated French restaurant in the snow any day. I digress, however, and explain to you how my magical day got even more magical.

My graduation was (thankfully) shortened by a rainstorm, causing hoards of people to run for cover, therefore negating the unbelievably treacherous small-talk and constant photo-ops that, I thought, inevitably followed graduation. My best friend and I got back to his car and he asked if I wanted to go to Opus for lunch with his family. Opus is a fine-dining restaurant we both worked at. I had eaten there before, and the food was great, but I wasn’t too successful working there. I accepted though, and along with that, signed myself up to most likely be eating over $100 of food myself on that fine day… and not paying for a penny of it! It would be rich. I would be swollen-full. I couldn’t wait.

There is a story here between Opus and Mizuna. I would treat them as equals (lunch at Opus theoretically shouldn’t taste much different than dinner there). On paper, they fall into similar standing: special occasion, expensive (around $60-$75 a person, not including wine), and that blanket “French-inspired, contemporary American” many expensive restaurants fall under. I have interacted with both chefs, and the style of kitchens couldn’t be more different. If Mizuna was a yoga convention, Opus was a Metallica concert. During service at Mizuna, I remember continually looking over at sous-chef, Jean-Philippe Failyau and reveling at how calm he was. During plating, he and his crew seemed to effortlessly assemble meals without delay. I saw laughing, a sense that they were like a couple of friends outside barbecuing. Opus, on the other hand is a little more intense. I can remember almost being mowed over countless times as I assembled desserts during service, but food always went out flawlessly.

‘Does it take that certain kill or be killed attitude to make it in fine-dining?’ I wondered as I walked into Mizuna. Overall however, I was amazed at how much each dining experience directly resembled the feeling of the kitchen. I suppose it depends on what you want, but my friend (who went to Mizuna with my family that night) and I definitely preferred the Mizuna atmosphere. It was more laid back, we felt that even though we were fine-dining, we weren’t required to wear a jacket and tie. Our waiter was very knowledgeable, yet intimate, checking up on us often, but not too much. When I asked him questions, I felt comfortable, not inferior, and received very literate responses.

Everyone eating at Mizuna seemed to be happy to be there, tables all around us were laughing constantly. Now at Opus, the floor seems to be as uptight as the kitchen can be. Again, it comes down to what you want: at Opus, I would feel at home in a jacket and tie, and it would be somewhere I would take my grandparents, or if I was ever to do a business deal, I would meet them there. Our waiter however missed the mark, putting off an aura of uncertainty, and almost gave off the impression (no joke here) that if he was to make some mistake, any mistake, he would be fired… or worse. He still reminds me of some guy in a movie who has a gun to his back and if he slips up… well… you know. “And ma’am, what- what would you like to drink?” It was just the uncertainty in which he said everything, like when he was reciting the specials, he was leaving something vital out. But I know Opus has some great waiters so I can’t hold that against them. Overall, on the general environment of the restaurant, I would go with Mizuna, but only because of the situation. But would the food be a similar story?

Here is the marquee of my day, eating some expensive meals. I’ll start with Opus. I went with the Kobe beef short-rib ravioli to start. I remember it coming out and thinking ‘Ok. How am I going to attack this?’ I cut open the oversized ravioli and had delicious short-rib jus come running out. I loved this app. Two things stand out in my mind, one good, one bad: the addition of gorgonzola cheese was fantastic, the tart dairy flavor contrasting both the tender beef and pasta. My gripe is that the giant ravioli was either too thick or undercooked. It tasted of fresh made pasta, but was almost slimy on the outside and dry on the inside. This was just a little speed bump though, overall it was great. The spinach under the ravioli was cooked perfectly, peppery and mixed well with the juice from the ravioli. My lunch entree was a special special because I used to work at the restaurant. I felt I had to take it, even though I was leary I would explode after eating it. There was no title for it since it was not on the menu, so I’ll just give you what it was: foie gras mousse stuffed first-season giant morel mushrooms accompanied by white truffle risotto and english peas and carrots. It was like getting hit by a bus of flavor. The first thought was the smell of the truffle risotto. I felt bad for the people next to me. It was like they got the chicken melt - with truffle. And a water - with truffle. I was worried the truffle dominates all, albeit deliciously, but once I got into it, there was much more to it. The morels were cooked very well, even though my very last bite had some grit in it. (I had to clean morels at Opus and I know brushing mushrooms for two hours can get tedious, but still if your average ticket for one person can be $70 I think there shouldn’t be grit…). The foie gras mousse was light and went with the earthiness of the morels well. I thought the mousse was a good way to use up the foie scraps too. The foie taste combined well with the truffle, of course, that deadly combination always seems to please. The risotto seemed to be a touch undercooked, but I can forgive since my senses were pretty much being bombarded at the time. The only real downside to this was the stuff to the right of the morels, the vegetables. The carrots could have been drank through a straw I think and the english peas tasted like… dusty. Add too much clarified butter and salt and you have those guys. But once again, overall a delicious dish.

I had about six hours to kill, which was spent napping and recuperating, trying to get my six foot one hundred forty pound frame to accept more ridiculously rich food. I went to a graduation party, mindlessly talked about what I was going to do for school, but I was totally focused on my culinary adventures in the coming hours. I couldn’t wait. We arrived at the restaurant for our reservation and my first impression was the informality of the restaurant. I didn’t need a tie here. Maybe not even a dress shirt! Directly after that I wondered if the food suffers. Or even worse, if the food tastes immaculate but people think it’s not fancy enough so they dismiss the experience. All things aside, I excitedly took my seat and looked at the menu put in front of me. (Once again, this whole time, throughout the whole night, we all felt comfortable, we weren’t feeling like if we didn’t know what something was and we asked, the waiter would roll his eyes and trouble with an answer.)

Our table got three apps, then I got a salad, entree and dessert. It was my graduation! A few highlights of the apps: the steak tar-tare for lack of a better explanation, tasted clean. Salted perfectly, it was refreshing and fit the mold of what an appetizer should be: small, light, very flavorful. The next was a seared diver scallop with lemon-potato risotto and roasted Oregon morels. The risotto was a lemon perfumed fine dice of potatoes, a refreshing background to the perfectly cooked scallop. The scallop almost melted in my mouth, like warm butter, and the morels were strong, pungent and fantastic. (I had a little personal experience with morels that day: when at Opus I got served the giant ones I thought it was perfect, like a huge truffle: the bigger, the more flavor. I discovered, however, that morels are like lobsters: the smaller, the sweeter, more complex, better. Oh, and the Mizuna morels had no grit.)

Our final app was the famous TK’s Macaroni & Cheese. It was poached Maine lobster with mascarpone-enriched elbow pasta. I liked this version of the gourmet mac and cheese because Chef Bannano has managed to keep great flavor without making the sauce too thick to eat. Mascarpone was an interesting choice because it’s a sweeter cheese, but it really added definition to the dish. The lobster, as I expected, was cooked very well, just ‘melty’ like the cheese.

I was ready for the salad course, excited to compare the beet salad I ordered with the one I had at Opus a few months back. It was a roasted beet salad with toasted croutons, grapefruit caramel and Miti Cana goat cheese. Maybe the best salad I’ve had ever. This one really left me begging for more. The creative grapefruit caramel accented the goat cheese immaculately, it left me sitting back saying ‘Wow, that was really good.’ The beets combined in with the goat cheese as well, a classic combination creating just a myriad of flavor comparisons with only a few ingredients. The biggest difference between the Opus and Mizuna salads is the size. I remember powering through some inch thick rounds of marinated goat cheese at Opus, and I love goat cheese, but it just looks like too much. The slices of beet were thinner at Mizuna, and the goat cheese was merely crumbled. Now, at first I sided along my dad eating at fine-dining restaurants, when after a full meal he would state (numerous times at different dinners as if we have never heard him say it before), “That was a great appetizer, now where’s dinner?” But after I finished that salad at Mizuna I realized I was dying for more, not struggling to swallow the last couple bites. I wanted to lick the plate, I couldn’t wait for the next course. It was a ‘a-ha!’ moment when a light-bulb shows up above my head. So this is what fine dining is all about. I’ll probably be full by the end, maybe not, but this is an experience, not just a meal! I anxiously awaited my ostrich entree.

Roasted ostrich loin, rosemary fingerling potatoes, parmesan creamed spinach, grilled cipollini onions. When it arrived, our waiter poured a jus over it, which did kind of ruin the ambiance of the dish, but I was ready to eat. I was not taken back by the ostrich as much as everything else I had enjoyed already. I found it a little tough, and my flashback of having a slice of it in the kitchen at Opus got my expectations a little too high I guess. Another comparison I was looking forward to was the spinach from the two restaurants. The spinach was a little finer at Mizuna, was more flavorful and delicious. The potatoes were salty, cooked perfectly and mixed well with the jus. And I was enjoying my ostrich until my friend gave me a piece of his lamb and I had that stupid thought of, ‘Damn, I wish I would have got that.’ Nonetheless I wasn’t going to get down, it was still a great dish, just maybe not worth $29.

The final dish of my busy day was a banana spring roll with strawberry semi freddo and chocolate sauce. The spring roll was cinnamon filled, warm and delicious. The semi freddo was thick, cold and delicious. The chocolate sauce was dark and complimented both components of the dish, creating a kind of bridge to the flavors.

So as I went to sleep that night, I sat in bed wondering which was better. But then it dawned on me that even if I had a preference for one or another it would lose focus for the day. I graduated high school and what a way to begin the next chapter of my life, hopefully filled with many more experiences like these. It made me happy, I may have been critical, but there was not one point during that day that I was disappointed in what I was eating. It is an underlying concept when I eat expensive food, any food. These small nuances are great to write about, but it’s the experience and opportunity to eat this fantastic fare that makes it worth the time, money and the inevitable enjoyment.