Le Bernardin and Central Park

Aug. 11:  Even two days in NYC is not anywhere near enough.  It’s a true statement even taking into account that I go there regularly so my accumulated NYC time is pretty substantial.  Yet NYC, like Paris, is one of those places that people, including myself, keep going back to again and again and again.  So next year or later this year will be another chance to people watch and eat my way through NYC.

Le Bernardin came highly recommended to me through Dan.  I fully trust his foodie advice so a month prior to our trip, I made a lunch reservation for Woody and myself.  I didn’t know all that much about Le Bernardin or Eric Ripert, but I didn’t need to.  It is one of six restaurants in NYC that have been awarded three Michelin stars, so assuming Ripert is not another Paul Bocuse, we were in business.

Woody and I were dressed to the nines.  When we stepped out of Penn Station into the broiling city, I was able to tolerate the heat in a knee high white dress.  To get some exercise, we began walking to lunch, yet Woody was in a black suit and he quickly realized we weren’t going to make it there alive.  We walked back to Penn Station to get a cab.  They have a very organized system and it’s far more civilized than I would have thought it to be.  No pushing old ladies out of the way to catch a cab.  Just wait in line – and wait and wait.

We arrived at Le Bernardin and we were immediately welcomed, our bags were checked and we were escorted to our table.  I really liked the warm tones used to decorate the space.  The walls looked like they are woven out of wood.  Very striking. 

Our head waiter came to explain how the menu works.  Like Aldea, there was a seven course tasting menu.  I am sure it would have transported us into some gastronomic heaven, possibly never to return to earth.  However we opted for the three course prix fixe.  Restaurants like Le Bernardin serve small portions, but they have a way of filling you up.  The menu is divided into Almost Raw, Barely Touched, and Lightly Cooked.  We were told we could each pick one item from the first two categories, and one item from the third category and later we would be given a dessert menu.

 They brought us an amuse bouche of the best salmon spread ever.  It was made from smoked salmon and poached salmon.  So it had that raw, ultra-nutritious taste to it.  With homemade crackers served in something like a napkin holder.  Addictive.

The bread basket was irresistible.  Literally.  I try to limit eating gluten, but I could not resist.  The bread waiter described the varieties.  Pumpernickel and raisin walnut and pretzel to name a few.  And the butter – it was like buttah!!  We were given a generous portion of butter in a dish and, as we nibbled away, a waiter would come in and swoop it off the table and replace it with a fresh one.  Now this I didn’t quite understand, other than they wanted to create an effect.  I assume that the 80% of the butter left in the dish was destined for the garbage and that upset me.

Woody asked me if we could order oysters a la carte even if we were on a prix fixe menu.  I didn’t know, but I had him ask the head waiter.  To my surprise, we could.  And we splurged on the chilled beausoleil oysters, which were adorned with two types of caviar, sea grape, and pickled shallot “seaweed water” gelee.  The taste was incredible, but the careful placement of each component was even more so.  We were brought out bowls of warm water to wash our hands after eating the oysters.  Very posh.

 

Our next two dishes were Barely Touched.  Woody ordered b­­­arely cooked scallop (the only way to eat scallops, IMHO) with roasted bone marrow calamansi-butter emulsion.  Calamansi is a type of citrus, so it brings levity to the butter.  The fish sat in the perfect amount of broth to provide body to the fish.

I ordered crab filled calamari à la plancha bamboo shoot with wood ear mushroom pot au feu.  I don’t know how Eric gets the squid to be tender, not chewy.  But he does.  And combining it with another seafood like crab meat was a totally new way of consuming it.  Very original.

Selecting our main course, Lightly Cooked, was no easy task.  Everything was so unique.  The way the ingredients and spices were combined were signs of a true culinary artist.  We had gone back and forth, exchanging ideas on current favorites and attempting to see which two dishes would work well together.  Probably any of them would have and we were over analyzing.

Let me interject to say I was admiring how handsome and what a man of the world Woody was.  We both are super casual and living in frumpy Eugene, Oregon, there’s nowhere to get dressed up, even if you wanted to.  So the gastronomic tour was a great excuse to look and act our best.

Back to the meal.  I had baked striped bass accompanied by baby leeks, sea bean-sea urchin “rouille” bouillabaisse sauce.  The leeks were topped with a homemade tapioca cracker.  Tapioca, otherwise known as cassava in the tropics is one of the blandest foods on earth.  So for Eric to transform it into haute cuisine is pretty phenomenal! 

Woody feasted on the pan roasted lobster.  A stuffed zucchini flower adorned with a tangy Persian lime sauce was served aside it.  The flower stem was wrapped with a slice of zucchini.  And like Aldea, the lobster tail was removed from the shell and it remained intact.  Our respect for the Eric and what he does as a chef continued to grow.

As you can see, this restaurant focuses on seafood.  And it is lightly cooked, at most.  So Eric has barely touched the raw elements, yet whatever touching he does, he seems to have the golden touch.  Really, every single bite was out of this world.  And when you consider that in theory you could buy the same fish at a market and take it home and eat it raw, or drizzle lemon juice on it, but it wouldn’t even come close to approaching what Eric has put before his patrons. 

And the service was impeccable.  Completely attentive, but never intrusive.  There were lots of staff walking around.  Plates were constantly being cleared, more bread was offered, fresh butter was provided.  And when the food was served, it took a small team to do so.  The head waiter to explain the meal.  And two other servers to place the food down in unison and pour the sauces.

Dessert menus came next.  The one dish that called to me, black forest, was not available that day.  Brandied cherries, whipped vanilla cream, and smoked chocolate cremeux would have to be eaten next time.

I am not a big dessert person, yet I do have a weak spot for great chocolate.  So I got the Peruvian chocolate.  A miniature warm chocolate cake, a caramelized fig, and a perfect dollop of spiced chocolate ice cream brought me into an elated state of being.

Woody had the mango parfait with a hazelnut dacquoise and a Thai basil mango emulsion.  The most interesting aspect of this dessert was this mango fruit leather of sorts, which decorated the parfait and looked like a golden wrapper.  It did not even look edible, but it indeed it was.  And it was consumed with every last morsel of the rest of the dessert.

Some cappuccino completed the meal and we sat and digested for a while, taking in the scene.  The table next to us was an Asian couple with a child probably not older than five.  He was very well behaved!  His parents must have trained him in etiquette since he stopped nursing.  Then there was the chatter boxes three tables down, whom you couldn’t ignore if you tried.  Any American restaurant would not be complete without the ugly American.  ANNOYING.

In the couple hours we were there, we saw lots of tables finish and a lot more get seated.  The restaurant was mostly filled to capacity, which doesn’t really surprise me.  But when you think about how many people are eating this quality food each and every day, and the production it takes to maintain such an establishment, it’s pretty boggling.  Feeling physically and spiritually full, we retrieved our backpacks at the coat check and went outside to join the real world.

We weren’t that far from Central Park, so we walked over there.  It was exactly what you would expect for a hot, summer day.  Young boys playing soccer, children playing with bubbles, couples lying down in the shade, and more adventurous types splashing in the sprinklers.  We found some restrooms, changed into street clothes and joined the adventurous types in the sprinklers.  It was some much needed refreshment!

Scenes From Central Park on a Summer Day

One thing I had never done in NYC that really appealed to me is to go out on rowboats in Central Park.  The idea of an outdoor adventure in a big city is pretty cool and speaks to people’s desire to feel free and experience nature, regardless of where they are.  Paris has rowboats in the Bois de Boulogne and NYC has rowboats in Central Park.  Same thing, different continent.

The boats required one rower and Woody wanted to row.  So I sat back to enjoy the ride.  The backdrop of fountains and lots of people and skyscrapers was a pretty cool combination.  We took our time and explored nooks and crannies within the lake.  We admired a gondola type boat carrying a group of (presumably) tourists.  We listened to the beat of the drums, as there was an impromptu drum circle going on by the shore.  All was well, until a thunder and lightning storm appeared out of nowhere.  Now I am not one to be ruled by fear, but I do have the sense to not want to hang out in a metal boat on the water during a lightning storm.  My grandmother died in a summer lightning storm and this was something my mom drilled into my head as a child.  If it starts lightning, get inside a building or in a car.  Woody rowed as fast as possible and we returned the boat.

In the hour or so we had been on the lake, the park was transformed from a hub of bustling city life, to an almost empty green space.  Where had all the people gone?  I don’t know, but they were nowhere to be seen. 

One of the things I miss about the east coast are the warm rains of summer.  I used to go outside as a child and sing and dance when it started raining.  Sometimes I even shampooed my hair and washed it in the rain.  I was loving the rain and the solitude of Central Park and wanted to keep walking.  Woody voted for taking a cab, only because we were headed to another nice restaurant for dinner, and he didn’t want to show up looking like a drowned rat.  Fair enough.

We hailed a bicycle cab and headed toward Columbus Circle, where Masa Bar is.  By the time we got to Columbus Circle, the rain had subsided, and the crowds were back.  Woody struck up a conversation with the cab driver and we chatted for a bit.  He said he was from Timbuktu.  We assumed that was in Africa, but neither of us really knew where it was.  We let him know people in the states say Timbuktu when they want to describe somewhere really far away – like No Man’s Land.  We found out it’s in Mali, in Northern Africa.  He works summer months in NYC and goes back a few months a year to visit his family.  He was going on and on about politics and while we agreed on many fronts, at some point, we excused ourselves and headed up to Bar Masa.

This was a new addition to our gastronomic tour.  The chef, Masa Takayam, apprenticed under Jiro, from Jiro Dreams of Sushi, a documentary about the worlds’ greatest sushi chef.  Since the movie came out, it’s been a one year waiting list to get into his restaurant in Tokyo.  Since Tokyo is not on our radar, we decided to see what he had to offer in New York  Masa has a three starred restaurant, yet we were not prepared to take the financial dive to eat there.  Dining at Bar Masa was a way tosample the renowned chef and we were all over it. 

Bar Masa is on the fourth floor of a mall across from Columbus Circle.  Half a block up is Jean Georges, in one of Donald Trump’s buildings.  And on the same floor as Bar Masa, is Per Se.  It is a Thomas Keller three starred restaurant, although it got panned pretty severely by Pete Wells the New York Times restaurant reviewer.  It was becoming obvious that Columbus Circle is a real haven for foodies.  Too many places, too little time.  Per Se is on the list for a future visit, just so I can form my own opinion.

So, Bar Masa has tapas style dining.  Lots of small dishes, some hot, some cold, some veggies, some fish, some meat, some sushi.  The menu was more expansive than you would normally see at a Japanese restaurant.  We had some basic dishes like eggplant with miso sauce, as well as some other dishes that had common ingredients, but with a spin on them.  Jalapeño charred octopus, shrimp ceviche with sea urchin and maitake mushrooms with shaved truffles.  The food was super flavorful, prepared simply, not overly oily, and satisfied us very much.

We also ordered a few sushi rolls.  This is where they fell short.  They tasted fine, but they tasted like sushi I could get at any decent sushi joint.  And the portions of fish were minute, perhaps a quarter of what you would expect.  And considering that the sushi rolls were four times the price of what you would pay anywhere else, it was a losing proposition.  I can’t speak for the sushi served at Masa, but if it resembled what we had, I would say – please go elsewhere.

You know what the most outstanding dish was?  The strawberry mille crepe cake!  Mille crepe is a French cake that translates to “thousand crepe cake.”  It was barely sweet.  Crepes are mostly egg, very little flour, so that contributed to the light feeling.  And then there was some sort of pastry cream between each layer.  And the occasional smattering of strawberries, which had sort of melted into the cake, really elevated the whole dish.  The result was an ethereal, fruity and creamy dessert that had us digging our forks in one bite after another.  I am sure we could have gone through the better part of the cake, not just one slice.

While were had our meal, the restaurant had filled in.  I would describe the atmosphere as casual, but upscale casual.  Most people looked like they had gotten off of work and were there to kick back for some tasty Japanese food and a few drinks.  We were probably a bit underdressed (being wet didn’t help), but in no way out of place.

We finished up there and by now it was dark and The Big Apple was in full swing with nighttime energy.  We didn’t have any particular place we were trying to get, so we slowly made our way back to Penn Station, hitting some of the prime spots on the way.

Columbus Circle was all lit up.  It’s tame compared to the Place Charles de Gaulle in Paris where the Arc de Triomphe is, yet it’s not tame enough to wander across without paying attention.  In the center is a tall statue of Columbus as you might expect and all around the edges are fountains.  It’s a real slice of New York.  We saw the horses and stopped to pet some of them.  Last summer we did a nighttime horse ride through Central Park and down to Time Square.  And we may do one another time, but not tonight. 

We walked east toward Fifth Avenue and headed south.  Fifth Avenue is always a fun walk, even for those who never plan on shopping there.  We stopped in the Apple Store.  Part of what makes NY incredible, is that the shops are as busy at 10:30pm as they are 10:30am.  There cannot be 1,000 people needing to deal with their iPhones at almost midnight – but you go to the store, and yes, there are 1,000 people in there. 

Rockefeller Center was another stop.  I love the flags that surround the plaza, to symbolize that NY is a melting pot.  It really is one of the few places on the planet where so many ethnicities exist in relative peace.  Remarkable in so many ways.  Kids are running around like they are at recess in elementary school.  Woody is grown up now, but even when he was little, I liked cutting him loose in settings such as this.  Why shouldn’t a five year old go berserk for an evening at Rockefeller Plaza?  I can’t think of any good reasons.

We eventually headed south and cut over to go through Times Square.  Now that is really a hopping place!  People are packed like sardines, shoulder to shoulder for a few blocks.  Minnie and Mickey Mouse will try to get you to take a picture with them, then come chasing you down for $20 – it’s hysterical!  And women in American flag bikinis draping themselves over those who cross their paths.  If you ever wondered why people call New York the city that never sleeps, just come to Times Square at 11pm, and you will fully understand.  I am sure if I were there at 3am, it would be the same scene.

Well, all good things must come to an end and our brief stint in NY has come to a close.  We had an awesome time.  We had two extremely tasty meals, one absolutely outstanding meal, and one meal that has been burned into our DNA forever (thanks Eric- you rock).  I let Woody know that next time we get to New York, we would have our stay on Long Island and follow it up with a few consecutive days in the city.  That way we could have the pleasure of sleeping and waking up there.  Because one just can’t get too much New York.