LWF&D experiences Nougatine... finally

Nougatine, the slightly more casual part of Jean-Georges Vongerichten's flagship Jean-Georges restaurant, has been on my list of places to go pretty much since I moved to NYC. Now that I'm imminently moving south to Philly, I wasted no time in checking it off my list once and for all, toting Mom along for a delightful dinner.

And delightful it was. We were a little underdressed, to be sure, but we could appreciate the relaxed decor, the friendly and professional servers, and the eye-catching open kitchen bustling with activity at the end of the room. My only room-related gripe was the table: It stood on a tapered pedestal that was thick at the bottom (kind of like a mushroom), which cut drastically into the table's foot room. Kind of a bizarre choice.

But once we got beyond that, it was smooth sailing. One of the greatest things about Nougatine, I discovered, was that they offer wine in half (3oz) pours as well as full pours, which meant I could try two different kinds of wine! I started with a half pour of Domaine Carneros bubbly, which was fantastic, and finished up with a superlative Torrontes that was aromatic, crisp, and pretty darn delicious. Also, notably, for some reason they offer Cristal by the glass (and half glass). Huh.

Bubbles

Two half glasses = more than 1 glass. Yay!

To accompany the wine (and club soda, for Mom), we started with bread. Though the butter was cold and hard to spread, the bread was delicious, with a slight sourdough tang and an irresistibly stretchy inside.

And they give you two pieces at once!

Oh, and there was an amuse-bouche as well. A shot of warm carrot soup was surprisingly yummy; the accompanying rye toast was pretty standard, but it certainly got the job done.

Dollhouse food

To start, Mom went completely rogue and ordered the artichoke with mustard mayonnaise. Crazy town! After a steep but rapid learning curve in terms of how to eat it, she declared her love for the dish. I sense a long and happy artichoke-laden future for her.

The 'choke!

On to the entrees. Mine was warm asparagus topped with mixed mushrooms and a vinaigrette. Though there were only four thick spears (a bit paltry, in my opinion, for an $11 dish), all the ingredients were top-notch and remarkably flavorful. I particularly loved the mushrooms, which were actually the best part of the dish for me.

Lots of flavor, little portion

Mom chose the red snapper, with asparagus, shiitakes, and sesame vinaigrette. It was as satisfying as she expected, with perfectly-cooked fish sporting a crisp crust and a flavorful, Asian-inflected gingery sauce.

Really pretty fish

Of course, dessert was up next. The dessert menu was extensive and enticing, with everything from carrot cake to hazelnut dacquoise. It was hard to choose, but we did. In a startling turn of events, Mom chose the warm chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. She loved it, but I thought it was surprisingly plain for a Jean-Georges dessert: pretty standard chocolate cake, above average vanilla ice cream, job done.

Mod chocolate cake

Mine, however, was transcendent, one of the best desserts I've had in a while, in fact. This was a coconut and mango-passion mint vacherin with exotic fruit chutney. A cylinder of mango-passion sorbet-ish substance sat atop a dish of crunchy meringue, all crowned with whipped meringue and crystallized mint and surrounded by a small-dice tropical fruit salad. The plate was painted with passion fruit puree, and a long stick of meringue provided both garnish and textural and visual interest. The dessert was an explosion of flavors, fresh and vibrant and sweet and satisfying. And the textural range was impressive, from soft and silken purees and whipped meringues to firm, toothsome fruit to crunchy baked meringue. In.Sane.Ly. Good.

Explosion of color and delight!

Oh, and to send us off were three tiny mignardises each: two pates de fruit of indeterminate flavor and a chocolate-covered orange jelly stick. These were ah-kay, nice sweet bites but nothing too special.

Freebies

All in all, though, Nougatine is quite a special place. The food is spectacular, and the service and overall experience are both pretty great as well. It's a four Offset Spatula destination that's perfect for special occasions and any time you want to feel, well, delighted.

Nougatine
1 Central Park West
212-299-3900

A midweek stop at Oceana

After an impromptu midweek shopping excursion (or, since nothing was purchased, more like a wandering excursion), Mom and I ended up hungry in Midtown. The wastelands of Midtown, to be exact-- Sixth Avenue, near Rock Center. Is that a tumbleweed I see? Yeah. Fortunately, just when despair was about to hit, I spotted Oceana-- and in we ducked gratefully.

We were there quite early, so we didn't have trouble snagging a table. The hostess tucked us at a huge two-person table in the dining room. As befits a fancy restaurant of Oceana's caliber, the place is incredibly comfortable-- luxuriously expansive tables, cushy couch-like banquettes with mercifully padded backs. While it's a large-scale dining room, it's a comfortable place to be.

Oceana is a fish place (obvi), and I'm a vegetarian, so would this unlikely match work out? Let's start with the bread, a choice of warm honey-whole wheat rolls or a sourdough baguette. I'm not the hugest fan of honey-flavored bread (something about the sweet flavor when I associate bread with savory purposes always turns me off), but the sourdough baguette was aggressively crusty and delicious. Deducting the obligatory points for providing three pieces of bread for two people, Oceana gets extra points for having room-temp, spreadable, salt-sprinkled butter. An enjoyable bread course overall.

The dreaded trio

Speckled bread

A surprise amuse-bouche interrupted the bread course. It was lobster and asparagus soup with olive oil and toasted croutons, so unfortunately I did not get to taste this beauty. But Mom raved about it-- she said it was unusual and tasted really strongly of the lobster. She'd never had anything quite like it.

Spring green

Mom started off her meal with the salad of local greens with shaved vegetables and sherry vinaigrette. Once again, this was a hit (and I tried a mouthful of greens to confirm). The greens were fresh, and the dressing was notably tangy and salty, lending good flavor to the mixture.

Probably the largest portion of anything we ordered

Then on to the main courses. I went with the watercress and date salad, with beets and hazelnuts (I requested no gorgonzola, which usually accompanies the dish in the form of gorgonzola cream decorating the plate). This was, it must be said, a really small portion, but what was there was high quality. The watercress was lively without an overwhelming peppery bite, and the crushed hazelnuts dotting the mixture added both texture and appealing flavor. The beets were beets, and I assume the sweet red smear on the plate was something date-related, because otherwise there were no dates in the salad. The salad verged on the sweet side, but it was enjoyable in its creativity.

Appealing to the eye, and the sweet tooth

Mom chose the tamarind-glazed mahi mahi, which came as a hunk of fish on a plate, rather sloppily unadorned. But once again, it shined in terms of flavor-- Mom pronounced it delicious and impressively moist.

Compared to the rest of the presentations, this one fell flat

To add vegetable interest to our meals, we ordered a side of wild mushrooms to share. These mushrooms, served in a delightful little pot, were an impressively exotic mixture and mercifully ungreasy. The fresh herbs added spikes of fresh flavor to an otherwise umami-heavy dish. In short, these mushrooms were addictive.

Yum

Dinner, despite not being large in quantity, was filling, but that doesn't mean there wasn't room for dessert. In fact, we both had room for the chocolate sticky toffee pudding, which usually comes with stout beer ice cream. We replaced the offending stout with chocolate and vanilla ice cream for Mom and me, respectively. The pretty little cake arrived in the form of a two-layer rectangular log, draped demurely on one side in a thin blanket of caramel. The bottom layer was a molasses-flavor cake, and the top layer was a sticky, date-flavored concoction of glossy goodness. There was a buttery oatmeal tuile piercing the cookie on one side, and the sphere of French vanilla ice cream that sat atop a pile of cookie crumbs was surrounded by bizarre and strongly-flavored cubes of stout gelee. I passed on these cubes. I managed to pack away all of the ice cream and much of the cake before getting too full. Is it weird that I found that tiny square of caramel to be the best part of the dessert?

Mom's had chocolate ice cream

As a final bit of deliciousness before the check, we were presented with two tiny little ice-pops apiece, one a creamy and tangy tangerine flavor, one a dead ringer for a fudgsicle. What an unexpected delight!

Awwww

Oceana isn't cheap, but a meal in the comfortable space is undoubtedly a fine-dining experience. With all the well-planned extras, you get quite a bit of food, even if the portions are rather small. And for a pescatarian, there's nothing better in terms of variety and quality. So Oceana earns four Offset Spatulas, even if it wasn't necessarily the best meal I've had in recent history-- I realize I'm not the best judge, and my mom was pleased as punch. If you're into the stuff from the sea, make a stop at Oceana and revel in its bounty.

Oceana
1221 Avenue of the Americas, at 49th Street
212-759-5941

Daniel blows our minds

For Hannukah two years ago, my parents were kind enough to give me a substantial gift card to the Daniel Boulud restaurant group. I've been trying to find an opportunity to redeem it since then, and finally--finally!-- I secured a reservation at DB's flagship restaurant, Daniel. It's a fancy place, so AV and I got all dolled up in suits and other finery last Saturday night and made our way to East 65h Street.

As we were seated, we discussed how strikingly pretty the dining room was. We were located at a two-top on the periphery of the room, up against a balcony that overlooked the sunken dining room. All around the room, groups of people were enjoying the incredible food, and the room hummed rather noisily with conversation. It was a vibrant and beautiful scene.

But enough about the room-- let's get to the food. Or the drinks, at least. The Daniel wine list landed with a thud on the table, but we bypassed the 1.5-inch-thick tome for the shorter document listing the cocktails, beers, and wines by the glass. AV chose a Belgian Duvel, and I selected a glass of Domaine Bailly Reverdy Sancerre. The wine's incredible aroma of grass and fruits reminded me of why I like Sauvignon Blanc so much, and I vowed to resume drinking it with frequency.

The beer's glass was pre-chilled

My delightful Sancerre, in beautiful glassware

Our meal then began in earnest with their tiny little appetizer bites. AV's included a tiny piece of cuttlefish, which was smoky and not too fishy; a dollop of carrot mousse, with an intriguing hint of unusual spice; and a bit of snapper ceviche, which was salty and had a reasonable texture (this according to someone who doesn't eat raw fish).

Beautifully composed

My choices were a melange of carrot pieces in basil oil; a dish of the same carrot mousse; and a single piece of (pickled?) turnip. All was light and delicate, with the carrot mousse being particularly enjoyable.

Note the creative presentation, on a wood plank that balanced right on the plate

Following our appetite-whetters, we embarked on the bread course, which we were both looking forward to. A dish of exceptionally creamy butter was delivered, and a gregarious bread man approached wielding six-- count em, six-- enticing bread selections. AV chose the garlic cheese focaccia, which he termed "a donut of deliciousness." One stolen bite made me believe AV's declaration that this may be the best bread he's ever had.

Incredible

That's not to say I was unsatisfied with my choice-- quite the contrary. I had selected the olive and rosemary focaccia, with big chunks of black olives buried inside. It was pretty much perfect, with the rosemary taste definitely noticeable among the assertive olives.

I managed to keep my bread consumption to half a roll in anticipation of the food to come... go me!

In a flourish of synchronized serving, our appetizer course arrived. AV had chosen the homemade spinach tortelloni, which came with all sorts of interesting accompaniments, including the newfangledly faddish black garlic. While he noted that the bits of dried pork were slightly overwhelmingly salty, AV said that you could taste the freshness of the spinach in the tortelloni, and overall all the different parts of the dish worked very well together.

Well-composed

My choice was the demurely-titled "fall mesclun salad with mustard dressing." It was an ample pile of incredibly fresh baby lettuce, studded with all kinds of surprises-- a sliced beet here, a lilliputian mushroom there-- and topped with a flurry of something crispy (fried porcini, perhaps?). I marveled at the dish's creativity while gobbling the delicious produce down.

All sorts of goodies hidden inside

We paused for breath as our appetizer plates were whisked away. Bear with me, readers; we're not nearly done. Some thoughtful sips of wine primed me for the entree course, which was on its way. Behold, AV's selection: the duo of dry aged black angus beef, with a red-wine reduction drizzled on the plate tableside. There was so much going on with this dish that it's almost overhwelming-- a small rib-eye, a small shortrib; a pile of trumpet mushrooms; a cube of parsnip and potato gratin smothered in gorgonzola cream; all divided by a Mason-Dixon line of strong crushed pepper dust. AV pronounced the cuts of beef outstanding; he usually takes his beef medium, but he would have eaten this rare. He also enjoyed the mushrooms, usually not his favorite food either. Well played, Daniel, well played.

Insane composed tableau

My choice, the tasting of broccoli, actually came from the appetizer side of the menu. This dish was anchored by four dollops of crazy rich broccoli cream, topped with pieces of fried and steamed broccoli and each crowned with a flag-shaped sliver of roasted red pepper. These sentries were surrounded by an army of lemon-pine nut gremolata, tiny cubes of ricotta salata, little disks of cucumber, and harissa coulis. I've never had broccoli this rich or savory before; let's just say that by the time I laid down my fork in exhaustion just over halfway in, my mind was blown.

Outrageous

Having already consumed more food than I usually do in a week's worth of dinners, why not press on to the dessert course? Well, dessert "course" was what we were prepared for; what we received was a full dessert meal. Let's start with the desserts we ordered. AV went with the warm Guanaja chocolate coulant, which is a fancy name for a molten chocolate cake. It came with an oozing caramel center and a quenelle of milk sorbet, as well as the requisite topper of gold leaf (obvi). AV termed it warm, delicious, and outrageously rich, which is incidentally just how I like my men. Hey-o!

Like a little chocolate popover

The ooze

My chosen dessert was the chocolate and peanut butter ganache. It was a compact book of thin chocolate encasing layers of chocolate and peanut butter ganache, all studded with little bits of crunchy praline fueilletine. There was some peanut butter mousse on top and about an ounce of indeterminate powder, perhaps milk-flavored. The scoop of caramel ice cream was out of this world. It's almost superfluous to say that overall this dish was a delight, but it was. Rich, chocolately, creamy, satisfying. Yup.

So, that was dessert, right? Seems reasonable. Uh, no. For some reason, we were gifted yet another dessert on the house-- this one a pumpkin cream with brown sugar biscuit. The pumpkin and brown sugar was spicy and comforting, and there was an interesting log of what seemed to be ginger cream in the center of the plate. Oh, and if that weren't enough, there was also a scoop of pomegranate sorbet. Of course.

The pumpkin platonic ideal

But of course not even that would constitute an appropriate ending to a meal at Daniel. Alongside our three desserts dropped a plate of six mignardises, and of course, despite being full to bursting, I had to try each one. Clockwise from the bottom left, the flavors I recall: a passionfruit tart; vanilla pastry cream on a biscuit; some sort of pistachio mousse; a lemon macaron; some sort of citrus log; and finally a weird bite covered with the dessert version of caviar that I didn't quite enjoy.

Dessert bite collection

Oh, but we were not ready to throw in the towel quite yet. A waiter approached with a parcel of warm, just-baked madeleines. We groaned, not necessarily in pleasure, as we each popped one in our mouth. They were insanely buttery. I'm sure they were also really good, but at that point I was so full I just wanted a flat surface to lie on and perhaps a sleeping pill, not really another dessert.

Total overkill

When two more empty plates appeared in front of us and a waiter approached with five kinds of chocolates to finish our meal, I flashed AV a look that was something along the lines of "please help me." I managed to kindly decline the chocolates, thank god, but AV took one for the team and tried the dark chocolate offering. He said it was the perfect mix of fudgy brownie and regular chocolate; if we had known they were coming, we definitely would have saved more room to try one of each.

The singular chocolate on a plate

And finally, the meal was finished. We were utterly, completely spent, and it took a superhuman effort to pay the bill and roll ourselves to the sidewalk to catch a cab. There is no question that Daniel is a five Offset Spatula restaurant: while the service is less effusive and hospitable than that at Eleven Madison Park, from the beautiful bathrooms to the mind-blowingly creative plating, a dinner at Daniel is truly an experience. And, let's face it, any place that offers five dessert courses as part of a regular meal is a restaurant after my own heart.

Daniel
60 E. 65th Street, between Madison and Park
212-288-0033