Our dinner at BR was Thursday evening, their second night in business. The overall experience was almost too good and too smooth to think this was a restaurant in its infancy.
Knowing we weren’t in Paris, the room had the faintly reminiscent feel of a New York “power” restaurant—a very large room with high ceilings, but where all manner of action and people watching could be done with unobstructed views across the entirety of the place. It was not completely full at the seven o’clock hour (perhaps they didn’t want to take every possible reservation so that the staff wouldn’t be killed so early on), but there was a nice hum to the place—not too loud or too soft. Most of the patrons were smartly dressed, though I did spot one jackass in an athletic jersey.
It seemed from the start there was no shortage of staff. If anything, there were almost too many people, including a roving manager with a Trekian earpiece (note to management: if it’s that important to have someone teleconnected, provide them a discreet listening device that Secret Service guys and network anchors wear. Then you won't have a Spock look-alike patrolling your perimeter) . But more on the service later.
We began with a salade frisee and onion soup gratinee. The salad was generously overlarded with lardons, which were big smokey chunks with a nice ratio of bacon to fat. They were heaven on a fork. High marks also on the egg, poached perfectly. The soup was a rather standard issue baked-over affair, although I gave it points on two scores. First, the cheese stayed spoonable throughout, never turning into a gross gloppy indigestible wad. Second, the broth had a good balance tending toward the sweet, and did not fall victim to the typical onion soup problem of saltiness.
Our entrees were skate, served in a lemon butter and caper sauce, and steak tartare. The skate was nicely grilled and was on a bed of haricot vert (which we also ordered as a side dish, not aware the beans would appear as part of the fish). Curiously, Mrs. Olde School and I never give a thought to portion sizes (large or small), though we both remarked how skimpy the serving seemed to be. The reality is that she left a bite or two on her plate, but we both thought the small size could easily become a sore point for others. The tartare came out looking slightly appetizer-like because it was served in a small chilled glass bowl and not on a plate (in fairness, our waiter had initially suggested we consider sharing the tartare as an appetizer). Still, I adored it. It had a quail egg in a half-opened shell on top of the mounded mixture, and its addition gave a silky creaminess to what was a highly seasoned rendition of this classic—lots of pepper, anchovy, worcestershire. The tartare came with frites, served in the now ubiquitous paper cone. They were slightly thicker than the McD-style fries often seen in brasseries, and cooked browner. I thought they had great potential, though they arrived not quite hot and slightly limp.
The service was excellent, getting right up to the line of annoying without crossing it. It was clear no one wanted anything to slip through the cracks and leave any table in want for a thing, so the waiter, back waiters, bus boys, and managers were all doing the bending over backwards thing. It never got to the point of having our water refilled after each sip, but we did get the hop-to from start to finish. It was much appreciated, but I think we will like it more when the staff settles in to a service choreography that’s not always at DefCon Five or Orange.
Dessert for us was a shared pot au crème, served in a lidded jar. This was a great dessert of custardy goodness with a liquid caramel base. I engineered my spoon around every interior surface to make sure not a molecule was left behind.
We did see a few people at the bar taking their dinner there. There looked to be about 20 seats, and I thought this might be a good option in the future. When I sat at the bar having a drink, however, the chairs seemed three or four inches too low for comfortable eating, given the bar height.
Our meal was $127, not including tip. This was for a Grey Goose on the rocks, two glasses of wine (one $8 and one $15), the two appetizers, two entrees, one side, one dessert and two coffees. Not cheap, not horrible. Ironically, we typically have to spend more at Mirai, with a dinner of sake, salads, and sushi.
BR is in our neighborhood, and we look forward to going back.
See, I'm an idea man, Chuck. I got ideas coming at me all day. Hey, I got it! Take LIVE tuna fish and FEED 'em mayonnaise!
-Michael Keaton's character in Night Shift