I think at this point, I can comfortably call Tocqueville my favourite restaurant in New York. Sure, I really look forward to the over-the-top creativity at Momofuku Ko and wd-50, and I love the decadence of Daniel and Per Se, but Tocqueville is both serving up interesting food and dishing out the kind of lavish service that makes you feel like you’re dropping a whole paycheck on the meal, when it’s really just $55 for the food and $30 for the wine pairings.
My boyfriend and I have had Tocqueville’s tasting menu, hunter’s menu, Restaurant Week menu, and lunch prix-fixe, but up until last weekend, we’d never had their pride and joy, the Greenmarket Menu.
Being situated a mere block from the Union Square Greenmarket gives Tocqueville access to the freshest and finest in organic and all-natural ingredients, and while I have to admit that I’m usually a little more interested in crazy techniques that leave ingredients unrecognizable, the quality of everything that went into these dishes was evident.
A perfect little bite of tender salmon, crunchy acidic fruit, and herbs to add freshness and subtract fishiness. Grassy scallion puree not even necessary but appreciated.
The predominant flavor in this dish was lemon. Under the beets, to the side of the beets, on top of the beets in little chunks. I was in heaven. “Salt-roasted” might make you think of parched throats and peanuts, but despite being cooked in probably pounds of the white stuff, the beets were perfectly moist, full of their natural flavor, and still with that youthful vegetable tooth. The bite of the arugula and walnuts paired well with the mineral aspects of the wine and also added a nice crunch to the dish.
2010 Moulin de Gassac Rose Languedoc-Rousillon France (B)
This wasn’t actually on the Greenmarket Menu but was a little treat provided by the excellent server we’ve had the past three times at Tocqueville. And let me tell you, it was a genius move, because I would order this thing again and again. And I usually think soup is dumb! The peas made for such a sweet base, and then the tarragon puree on the bottom of the plate balanced that with its herby bite. The texture was like melted ice cream, and I mean that in the best way. The fresh, crunchy peas added a crispiness, and the creamy panna cotta was a texture somewhere in the middle that brought everything together. I know the panna cotta was made from cheese, but it tasted like the sweetest cream to us.
I feel like I shouldn’t review this at all and should just let you look at the picture. Can you imagine anything more perfect? You have the chicken breast, cut in the famous airline fashion. You have the thigh, battered and crispier than you’ve ever seen it. You have succotash with chunks of thick-cut bacon. And hidden in the back, you have a white foam that tastes like–wait for it–Marshmallow Fluff. This has the potential to be the best dish ever, am I right?
Well, okay, there were a couple of things I’d do differently. The meat of the chicken was perfectly–perfectly–tender and juicy and flavorful in ways chicken isn’t even supposed to be. But the skin should have been crispier. And unfortunately, the salt was basically nonexistent when not mixed with the sauce in the succotash. Next time, I’ll have the guts to ask for some seasoning, because otherwise, this dish was unforgettable.
The peas were so plump, the corn so crisp. And that Marshmallow Fluff foam! The new chef told us it’s actually corn milk with star anise, garlic, and thyme, but that’s pretty clearly a lie, as it was totally MARSHMALLOW FLUFF. And delicious. That may have been the best part for me, but a close runner up was the fried chicken thigh. It was like eating chicken surrounded by a biscuit. The crispiest, most flavorful biscuit. The fact that it had no bone was also a major plus. Overall, this was one of the most soul-satisfying dishes I’ve ever had.
2002 Nebbiolo Limpido ! Cascina Ebreo Piedmont Italy (B)
I’m never disappointed by the way Tocqueville serves their cheese. This Vivace was stinky, rich, chewy, and spreadable, making it the perfect companion to the sweet rhubarb and honey (with comb!) and perfect for liberally covering the crusty raisin bread.
This was just about the prettiest fruit you ever saw; the berries were so perfectly fresh and ripe. The icy strawberry granita was a refreshing contrast to the rich mousse, and even the little buds added a nice crunchy texture. Obviously, and as usual, I wanted more. A lot more.
2006 Gruner Veltliner Eiswein Anton Bauer Wagram Austria (S)
Luckily, my boyfriend is a wimp and was too full to eat any of the petit fours. I felt like whoever made this plate had read my mind (or at least my blog), because a) there were French macarons, and b) the macarons were vanilla and lemon. They couldn’t have been more perfect! Interestingly, the macarons were full not of the usual gel-like filling but with more of a creamy, frosting-like filling. Delightful!
At the end of the meal, when I asked for a copy of the Greenmarket Menu, our wonderful server presented two of them to us, wrapped in pretty gold ribbon. It wasn’t the sort of thing I expected, but I should have known to expect it from Tocqueville. I turned to my boyfriend and asked, “Why do we ever bother going anywhere else?”
I keep calling Tocqueville my maybe-favourite restaurant in NYC. And then I keep giving it four and a half donuts. But thanks to a purchase on one of those deal-a-day websites, I had my best meal at Tocqueville to date and also one of the best meals I’ve had in NYC period.
The stage was set with a specially-printed menu on thick, shimmery silver paper and an offer by the sommelier to pair the meal for us. First up were warm cheese puffs, or gougéres, that tasted so strongly of cheddar:
They were a little crispy on the outside but bready on the inside. They were certainly more beautiful than the ones we had at Per Se, but my boyfriend liked the liquid center of the Per Se ones more.
Our sunchoke soup, a staple on the Tocqueville menu in our experience, was earthy in a way only a root soup can be. We thought we tasted mushroom, as well. And I have no idea how they expect me to believe this stuff is creamless, because it’s so smooth and thick you could caulk a bathtub with it.
The shrimp and asparagus was a perfect little bite that included freshness from the lettuce puree and crunch from the crouton.
Everything about this dish screamed, “I am too complex to make sense!”, and yet all of the elements complimented the others so perfectly. The apple puree had just the right amount of spice, and the darker sauce–which tasted like beef jus–gave just a touch of meatiness to an otherwise bright dish.
The roe on the tartare was WILD; it was flavored with what tasted like ginger to me. Now, I’ve come to appreciate roe in recent months because of the brine and texture it adds to a dish, but this roe was legitimately DELICIOUS. It was the first time I’ve eaten roe without consciously reminding myself of the fact that it’s kind of gross in theory.
But what I loved most about the dish was this crystalized mustard. It was like roe for people who don’t actually want to eat it, because while it added the crunchy texture, it didn’t fill my mouth with fish babies.
This was the one my boyfriend couldn’t stop talking about for days, and for good reason. TRUFFLES! And lots of them. We’ve never had a more truffley dish, in fact. It wasn’t just those two slivers you see on top but truffle shavings penetrating the entire bowl of grits. The contrast in texture between the nutty truffles, the creamy cheesy grits, and the gummy egg was just perfect. The bacon wasn’t crispy, the way I imagine most people like it, but it actually worked perfectly because it wasn’t at all fatty. It was all so rich and earthy that I couldn’t even finish the whole thing.
Plus, our wine pairing was so perfect that I couldn’t tell where the food ended and where the drink began. I wish I had gotten the sommelier’s name, because not only did he wow us with the taste everything, but he was full of information and seemed to love sharing it.
Slightly Asian-inspired, this was the best of scallop and the best of foie gras. The foie took away all of the fishy flavor from the scallop, and the scallop took away all of the bitter flavor from the foie. The rich broth was a wonderful contrast to the crisp vegetables that made a bed for the scallop. I’m really starting to understand why everyone’s into scallops: you get the sear of a steak, the texture of flan, and the slightest taste of ocean.
This was definitely one of the most interesting steak preparations I’ve had. Since it was only seared on one side, all of the flavors from blackened to rare were present.
That the restaurant cures its own meat is evident in the flavor. It wasn’t the most tender steak I’ve had, but I actually loved the toothiness of it. Obviously, I could’ve gone without the salad (and I did, for the most part), but LET ME TELL YOU WHAT. The egg and brioche on the other side of the plate was THE. BEST.
I kept telling my boyfriend, “This is the best thing I ever ate! You know that Food Network show ‘The Best Thing I Ever Ate’? I should be on that show! And I would say that this is the best thing I ever ate!!”
The brioche was just so crunchy on the outside and so buttery and sweet on the inside. And when the egg yolk burst and soaked into the bread–it was breakfast and dessert and everything that’s great in the world.
This was another Tocqueville dessert that didn’t make me miss chocolate. It was just a nice, refreshing, not-too-sweet treat, and I especially loved the slightly grainy texture of the sorbet. If this hadn’t been a tasting menu, I probably would’ve wanted a heavier dessert, but the lightness of it was welcome after such a filling meal.
Finally, we got a plate of petit fours that included a crisped rice one, a pure chocolate one, and one that reminded me of Fruity Pebbles.
And then, just as we finished, our sommelier whisked us off to the kitchen for a tour. Now, we’ve seen a handful of kitchens at this point, and to be honest, we’ve sort of just smiled through them and then later felt bad about how drunk and awkward we were with the chef.
Thanks to Chef Greg Vernick, though, we had the most non-awkward time. He showed us every square inch of the basement kitchen, from the walk-in cooler with its dry-aging beef to the dry storage with his favourite brand of olive oil to the cheese fridge, which he made us smell. He explained what equipment was available at each station and showed us the starters for their house-made breads and sauces. We got to see souffles right out of the oven and got to talk about his time at Jean-Georges, where we were going for lunch the next day. He was so knowledgeable, passionate, and willing to take time for us that it’s clear why the food has so much soul.
Then, we unexpectedly got a moment with owner Marco Moreira, who had caught me intently scrawling notes and taking photos while my hungry boyfriend tried to take discreet bites when I wasn’t paying attention. Again, he was humble and gracious and talked to us about the Hunter’s Menu we’d had a couple of weeks earlier and what we could expect to see on the upcoming spring menu.
All in all, it was one of the finest experiences we’ve had in all of our culinary ventures.
My boyfriend and I were talking the other night about the best restaurants in NYC, and I asked him, “Is Tocqueville my favourite?” We ultimately decided there’s probably one restaurant I’d rather go to on any given day, but it’s pretty clear how fondly I think of chef Marco Moreira’s cooking. I trust that I can walk into Tocqueville, order absolutely anything off the menu, and have it be perfectly comforting and satisfying yet entirely creative.
That’s why I begged for weeks to be taken in for the special four-course Hunter’s Menu with wine pairings. If anyone could convince me of the deliciousness of elk, wild boar, and grouse, it was going to be Tocqueville.
This palate-revver was all compliments: sweet butter, spicy herb, crunchy bread.
See that bright pinky/purpley little guy in the center of the photo? That’s a pickled cauliflower. And with all of the apple-like texture and citrus-like sourness it added to this dish, it’s my new best friend. The elk was surprisingly mild but wasn’t overpowered by the pleasant peppery bite of the arugula. We couldn’t discern the taste of the very tiny egg yolks (you can see one just to the left of the cauliflower), but we were delighted by the novelty of them, and all of the flavor from the Parmesan more than made up for it.
Reminiscent of the ravioli I loved so much on our last trip to Tocqueville, this dish could do no wrong in my eyes. Between the super-smoky bacon, the rich sauce, and even the meaty mushrooms, it was just the kind of homey, remind-you-of-mom plate only an orphaned model could say no to. Plus, papardelle is definitely my pasta-of-the-moment, so it could’ve been filled with live eel and raw tomato juice, and I would’ve been happy.
So many times, I’ll find myself wrist-deep in some fish or another, trying to impress my seafood-lovin’ boyfriend, and he’ll say, “Oh, man, if you had any idea what that thing looks like in the wild, you’d never eat it.” WELL, THANKS A LOT.
But grouse is one of the cuter animals you can eat. Sure, there are some freaky-looking ones with spiked feathers that puff up because of the air sacs underneath them, but ladygrouse are plump little beauties with a dumb/curious look about them that just makes me want to squeeze ‘em.
My boyfriend called this “the elk of the bird kingdom”, because the breast meat was red and not nearly as tender as we expected. The flesh from the confit leg, however, fell right off the bone, so evidently that’s the preparation to shoot for. We loved the deep flavors of the truffle and buttery pear sauce, and the combination of the foie gras, lentils, and egg left me exclamation-pointing all over my little notebook.
One of the reasons I’m leery of cheese courses is that when it comes time for dessert, I actually want sweets, and there are plenty of restaurants that think it’s okay to plop a plate of bread and cheese down in front of you and call it a night. Tocqueville, on the other hand, included candied pecans, jam, crusty raisin bread, honey with the comb, and a kumquat–perfect fodder for creating my own flavor combinations.
The cheeses were a semi-soft Wisconsin cow’s milk Meadow Creek Grayson that reminded me of my favourite cheese, Epoisses, a nutty Californian aged gouda from Two Sisters called Isabella, and a Rogue River Smokey Blue from Oregon.
I talked my boyfriend into dessert just so I could fulfill my near-constant need for soufflés. Unfortunately, this was like no soufflé I’ve ever tasted, and I wasn’t in the mood for messing around. It was a disc with the texture of banana ice cream that had melted and then been refrozen. I was not a fan.
However, I did love the sour yogurt sorbet. I eat Greek yogurt like they might stop making it tomorrow, and making it creamier and colder only causes me to spoon it in faster. The near-savoryness of it paired so nicely with the earthy roasted banana.
I probably wouldn’t order this specific dessert again, but I wouldn’t be ashamed to request a side of the sorbet with anything else.
This was brought to us on the house and was actually the better dessert, despite it being full of tofu and fruit and nothing chocolate whatsoever. It was a layer of soft, creamy tofu with a layer of something delicious and translucent on top that we thought might be solidified coconut milk. But really, it was that orange juice base that made us rave and want to go home and down a whole case of Sunny D. Or, um, I mean, fresh-squeezed OJ with absolutely no added sugar.
Once again, Tocqueville managed to impress me with new flavors while making me feel like I was eating something as familiar as mom’s meatloaf, and that’s why it remains a top contender for my favourite NYC restaurant. Interestingly, one of the factors that has given me pause in the past is the paltry amount of other diners we’ve seen; the place gets stellar reviews, yet during one of our weekend lunches, it was literally us and one other guy in the restaurant. This night, though, the entire dining room was packed and lively, and none of my usual this-place-might-be-a-little-too-formal-for-you warnings applied.
My boyfriend and I ate at La Silhouette last month and enjoyed their tasting menu of citrus-soaked daurade, veal that melted in our mouths, and the biggest chocolate soufflé I’ve ever seen. I gave the food 4.5 donuts but mentioned that the kitchen was still running a little slow with only two weeks of service under its belt, so co-owner Sally Chironis invited us back for a second chance.
Ironically, we had been looking for an upscale brunch spot only the Sunday before but had found every restaurant we thought of closed. Had we remembered that La Silhouette is now serving brunch, we would’ve been treated to:
I love a good bread basket, and this one had some real high points. The chocolate-banana muffin was the major one thanks to the crunchy sugar topping and the crust of chocolate chips. The buttery croissants flaked apart in our fingers, and the trio of fruit spreads that accompanied the basket were all delicious with the soft marbled pound cake.
This cocktail put your usual brunch mimosa to total shame. It was super sour and loaded with peaches, raspberries, blueberries, pineapple, and what my boyfriend thought was rhubarb. Rhubarb!
Unsurprisingly, I don’t drink bloody marys, but my boyfriend assured me this was a good one. He loves a little protein in his cocktails and welcome the baby shrimp, which even I tried and liked when swiped through the Old Bay Seasoning on the rim of the glass.
It’s funny that the menu called this the “classic” croque madame, because it tasted quite different than others I’ve had. I don’t think I even knew what a croque madame or monsieur was until a few years ago, and now it’s hard for me to imagine anyone eating anything else at brunch. It’s basically just a grilled cheese sandwich. Filled with ham. And then covered with more cheese. With a fried egg on top. What could be better, right? The difference with this one was that where most croques I’ve had have been mostly cheese-flavored, this one was heavy on the ham. Instead of a single slice, there was a big pile of thinly-sliced ham between the buttery slices of crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside bread.
The other plus was the side of Dijon mayo for dipping. I actually thought it was some sort of wasabi mayo, but of course a French-influenced restaurant went the Dijon mustard route. The chef noted the European fondness for mayonnaise on French fries but wanted to add a little kick to it. Oui!
My boyfriend has been wanting smoked salmon for breakfast lately, so this dish was perfect for him. Even I, usually so wary of the extra-seafoodiness of smoked fish, thought the flavors were very well-balanced. The smoke wasn’t overpowering thanks to the lemony Hollandaise, and I liked the way the firm English muffin provided a substantial base.
The night before, we had been to Serendipity 3, arguably the most famous dessert restaurant in the city, and we thought this sundae not only stood up to the one we had there but surpassed it in some ways. There’s a time and a place for over-the-top, brimming-with-every-topping-imaginable sundaes (more often for me than most people!) but Sunday afternoon is not one of them.
This felt like a sundae for adults. A sundae with lighter, better ingredients. It started with the crunchy pink meringue on top, which we later found tiny chunks of throughout the sundae. There was the Chantilly (vanilla) cream, the large slices of beautiful strawberries, the dark chocolate syrup, and the thick vanilla bean ice cream, too. I’m not usually one to praise desserts that don’t knock me over with richness, but this was just a great way to end brunch.
It doesn’t take much to make me happy when it comes to cupcakes, but these were just so-so for me. I didn’t think the cake portion of the red velvet one was moist enough, but the cream cheese icing with its bits of cake topping was incredible. The coconut cupcake was fine but not memorable. I loved the peanut butter cake of the chocolate-peanut butter cupcake, but the icing was like eating straight shortening. Peanut butter and chocolate are two of my very favourite flavors in the world, but this was my least-favourite cupcake.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t a huge fan of the cookies, either. I’ve been thinking about blondies for a couple of weeks now, so you can imagine my pleasure at receiving these. Only they were waaaay too dry for me. The double chocolate chip cookie crumbled in my mouth, as well. The coconut macaroon was the best part of the plate with its chewy interior and chocolate-dipped exterior.
La Silhouette was such a nice departure from the overcrowded, two-hour-long wait you get at the usual brunch places in the city. The sunken dining room was filled with natural light highlighted by a wall of electric candles, the noise level was low enough that we could enjoy quiet conversation, and our server was kind, professional, and impeccably dressed. I would certainly order the croque madame, eggs Benedict again, and even the $18 bagel with smoked salmon seemed like a deal when we saw how much fish was on the plate. I would skip the cookies and cupcakes, though, and order two of the La Silhouette Sundae instead.
I missed Macaron Day NYC last year and had to read about it after the fact, so you can bet I was on top of it this year, watching the website and following the planner of the big day, @francoispayard, on Twitter.
When the website revealed the date, it happened to be the very weekend my boyfriend and #1 dining partner would be out of town, celebrating Persian New Year in California with his family. I was distraught! He encouraged me to go with someone else, but I couldn’t think of anyone who’d be able to keep up with me for an entire afternoon of meringue-chowing.
A few hours later, though, my good friend Ash’s chat status changed to “I want French macarons!” It turns out she hadn’t even heard about Macaron Day but was just feeling the craving. How serendipitous! We consulted the map and decided to hit the four stores just below Central Park.
Sunday afternoon at 1, we met in front of the Time Warner Center to sample the fares at Bouchon Bakery. As it’s owned by Thomas Keller of Per Se and The French Laundry fame, we had both been wanting to check it out, anyway. And from all I can tell on the website, it does function as a bakery somehow, but when we approached, all we could see was a café area full of people and a line outside waiting to get in. There was a coffee bar, but that didn’t appear to have any bakery items, either. So call us cowards, but time was a-wastin’, and we left without hesitation.
The FC Chocolate Bar at The Plaza Hotel was a completely different story. When we came down the escalator into the concourse, there was a table set up outside the café where a woman was handing out macarons to everyone who passed. It was super-orderly and impossible to miss.
I got a cranberry macaron that was so delicate it started falling apart in my hands and actually did fall apart upon first bite. The veeeeery outside of the cookie was crusty, but everything farther in was moist and slightly chewy. The filling was creamy and helped hold the cookie together once it decided it wanted to crumble all over my plate, and the flavor was intense without being bitter.
Basically, for me, this is the ideal French macaron.
While there, I also decided to sample their George V, a baseball-sized disk of dark chocolate and vanilla mousse, filled with caramel and peanuts and covered in even darker chocolate. I took it for a three-bite dessert at first glance, but it was so rich it demanded grandma-sized bites (not the size of grandma but the size grandma would take). All of the textures–the creaminess of the mousse, the stickiness of the outer shell, the crunch of the peanuts–and the different chocolates made it a pleasure to eat. At $6.50, it was half the price of most of the desserts I’ve had lately and twice as delicious.
Plus, we got to see François Payard himself there! He came in with his motorcycle helmet, shook hands with the employees, and made trips back and forth from the counter to the kitchen. Not that we were, like, creepily watching his every move or anything.
Next, we were excited to try Macaron Café to experience an all-macaron restaurant. And it was glorious! Rows and rows of macarons in every color and flavor filled a display case, and friendly employees lined up to offer suggestions. I ordered the three above–pumpkin on the bottom, grapefruit in the middle, and pineapple on top–and chose the almond one to the right from their selection of smaller Macaron Day giveaways.
I absolutely loved all of the flavor choices (that was one thing lacking at FC Chocolate Bar), but the macaron texture was a little less successful for me. Ash had told me that in her experience, French macarons in France are very chewy and firm and not so moist. If that’s the case, Macaron Café is making authentic macarons, but I guess I’m not as much of a fan of authenticity. I like my macarons to melt in my mouth.
However, the decor at Macaron Café was very cute, as modeled by Ash here. The high-backed leather booths and marble café tables reminded me of dinner at Serendipity 3.
Next, we walked one block to the Park Avenue Mad Mac, but try as we might, we couldn’t find it. We had the building number and Google Maps on our phones, but even after walking all the way around the block and trying various locked doors, we never located it.
Instead, we decided to walk down to Rockefeller Center amidst the throngs of tourists and try the Jacques Torres in the lower concourse of 30 Rock. But they had run out of macarons! So I ate a super-melty chocolate chip cookie warmed on their burner, and Ash bought a bar of chocolate creme brulée she said was fantastic, and we were plenty happy.
Macaron Day NYC 2011 wasn’t quite as successful as we’d hoped between the confusion at Bouchon and not even being able to locate Mad Mac, but hopefully the kinks will be worked out before next year’s. And hey, five French macarons and a mound of mousse isn’t bad for an afternoon.
5 donuts: transcendent experiences
4.5 donuts: extremely awesome meals
4 donuts
3.5 donuts: good eats
3 donuts
2.5 donuts: food I could have made
2 donuts
1 donuts: dinners not fit for the dogs
