Le Bernardin: New York

It Shouldn't Be New York City Entry #37

I last dined at Le Bernardin fifteen years ago. It was my last restaurant meal with my father, whose name, as it happens, was Bernard. I still recall that meal for many reasons, including the superb and sensuous fish (this was pre-Eric Ripert) and the somewhat dowdy space. This evening my dining companion was a friend who had known and worked with my dad in his days as a Freudian training analyst. So a certain nostalgia, mixed with a dollop of transference, hung in the air.

The space is now quite lovely: an expansive dining room with touches of Frank Lloyd Wright, a Japanese teahouse, glorious sculptural bouquets and a bit of Craft's downtown style thrown in for good measure. With the canonization of Le Bernardin as a temple of haute cuisine perfection, I imagined that my task would be to speculate on whether a restaurant devoted to the life aquatic could hold its own with restaurants drawing from sea, land, and air.

One of the finest meals I have experienced this year was the vegetable menu at Charlie Trotter's. Trotter, like Houdini, thrives by tying an arm and leg beyond his back. Of course, vegetable cuisine is the triumph of Eros over Thanatos. Produce is easy to cherish in the right hands. One can have subtle, pungent, or spicy preparations. Fish are not so forgiving. There are more ways to miscook fish than to perfect them. Accompaniments that are too bland and the dish disappears, a few seconds too long and one has pablum; too much spice and it is time for the trash. When fish are perfectly fresh, perfectly cooked, perfectly presented, and perfectly sauced, it is heaven on the plate. But if I don't trust the chef, serve me a stew anytime. Cooking fish is dancing on the highrope.

Le Bernardin should be the New York restaurant in which the diners realize that the finest fish dish can trump the finest game dish every time.

Tonight Le Bernardin revealed itself not to meet its own standards often enough. The last meal that I had at Brasserie Le Coze in Atlanta was a more satisfying dinner than at Maguy Le Coze's flagship. Perhaps the fact that Chef Ripert was not in the kitchen tonight, too busy at Barça 18, the downtown redoubt where he is a partner, explains matters. But restaurants at the level of Le Bernardin should be able to muddle through without serving that muddle. Someone hasn't been paying enough attention back on 51st Street.

Our first surprise was our choice of wine. We ordered a Gruner Veltliner Hiedler Loess 2003. When the bottle arrived, we discovered that it was the Hiedler Thal 2003. I don't know the vineyard sufficiently to distinguish. The wine was just fine, but we were disconcerted by the sommelier who cheerily announced that, despite the list, they didn't have the Loess, but only had the "regular" Hiedler. Puh-leeze. Still, this is a small enough error (It turns out that the Thal is a more expensive wine than the Loess: the listed price of the "Loess" was $68.00, although the wine is available for $11.00, a startling markup; the Thal is $22.00). A three star restaurant is permitted one such error each evening for the whole dining room.

The amuse managed to set things right. The barely cooked scallop in a tomato, garlic and clam foam was Neptune's gift. This scallop was oh-so-slightly warm, and was given oceanic purity by the clam froth. The tomato and garlic added flavors that allowed the dish to marry the sea with the garden, underlining the scallop's otherwise petite flavor. It would have done well as an appetizer.

Before the appetizers bread appeared. New Yorkers expect that bread can matter as much as wine, and nowhere should this be more true than in a restaurant spitting distance from Carnegie Deli to the North and Amy's Bread to the South. It is my sad duty to report that Le Bernardin's bread should be given a decent burial at sea. After filling up on splendid rolls at River Café earlier this week, I realized that those starches were no accident. Bernardin's whole wheat slice could have been a Gristede's special. The sourdough roll had a slightly greasy taste, an impressive feat given how dry it was. The third set of slices (I didn't catch what they allegedly contained) was cold and stale. When we complained, we were brought more slices: warm and stale.

In the three course prix-fixe one chooses a dish that is almost raw, one that is barely touched, and one that is lightly cooked. My companion's starter was Alaskan Wild Salmon, Marinated with Olive Oil, Lemon, Herbs, and Grapefruit (and unadvertised onion). In ordering raw salmon the comparison is Russ and Daughters, served with a smear. It was a draw. The hidden onion proved too powerful for the dish. The salmon was sea-fresh with interesting, if somewhat unbalanced, flavors. Nothing special.

In contrast, the quartet of raw fluke salads were a dream. The four small rectangular plates held a set of philosophical compositions including mild, spicy, Asian, and tropical flavors. I particular admired the final presentation, raw fluke with a touch of coconut milk, although the mild starter with scallions and cilantro was first rate too. This was superb showmanship, and reminded me of Grant Achatz's symphony of five preparations of hearts of palm.

As with the almost raw course, the second course - barely touched seafood - had one stelllar dish and one good one. The latter was Celariac Open Ravioli Filled with a Medley of Lobster, Langoustine and Shrimp. Le Bernardin has been criticized for its portion size. I felt that these three micro-ravioli were not weighty enough. The thin pasta did not provide enough contrast with the small scoop of fresh and fine shellfish. Around these three bites, our server poured a foie gras truffle sauce (pouring sauce around a cooked piece of seafood seems a Le Bernardin trademark). I could not understand the culinary logic, unless it was to place every luxury food on the same plate (I should have searched harder for a few grains of caviar). The contrast was not a failure, but the sauce, both too rich and too thin, didn't add much.

My companion's dish was the high point of this - and many - meals. She ordered Poached Lobster in a Lemon Miso Broth, Shiso and Hon Shimemi Mushrooms (Hypsizygus marmoreus for those who still celebrate the Latin mass of the woods). Wow. I cannot decide at this late hour whether the broth was rapture or whether it was the lobster. The shiso added that slightly bitter edge to the consomme which I treasure. The lobster was warm, sweet, and giving. This is the work of a mature chef, unafraid to blend classical and experimental techniques. It was a profound dish that may inspire a death bed memory.

Perhaps someone should remove the stoves from Le Bernardin's kitchen. The more Le Bernardin heats their fish the more of a chowder do they become. We had three main courses, none impressive, and one a disaster.

At the suggestion of our long-suffering (and competent) server, I ordered the Pan Roasted Monkfish, Confit Peppers and Fiery Patatas Bravas with a Chorizo-Albariño Emulsion. (Albariño is a Spanish wine). The dish was listed as "A Tribute to Gaudi." Huh? I expected some architectural feat that Alfred Portale might be proud to construct on his plate, but the dish with four potato wedges and several small coins of monkfish paid the magical architect no honor. Although the monkfish was cooked suitably, the spicy chorizo sauce smothered the lobster-like flavor of the monkfish. In a recipe for patatas bravas, baking potatoes were listed, but these wedges had turned grainy, demonstrating why baked potatoes require butter, cheese, and ham to hide an uncomfortable texture. Two of the four wedges had a firmer texture than their mates.

This dish was positively rosy by comparison to the Halibut "Salsa Verde" with Clam Juice, Roasted Garlic, Herb Puree and Lemon Juice with Warm Crab and Raw Matsutake Mushroom Salad. All of these free associations are nifty enough, but they depend on an edible piece of halibut. I have often fantasied about returning a dish to the kitchen, finally we had the chance. (The bread gave us the courage). The fish was stringy, flavorless and overcooked. It wasn't "off," just awful. I will leave other intrepid diners to judge the clam, garlic, crab, and all the rest. This dish is bleech-worthy.

Our server reasonably offered to replace the dish, and my companion chose Masala Spiced Crispy Black Bass, Peking Duck-Green Papaya Salad in a Ginger-Cardamon Broth. I didn't inquire why we were served "Peking" Salad on a menu that offers Patatas Bravas, Sancocho, Vitello Tonnato, and Hon Shimeji Mushrooms. Once again the spicy broth was extreme, exotic, silky, and magnificent. (Perhaps Chef Ripert can step in for Al Yeganeh now that our Soup Nazi has gone national). The crispy skin was worthy of the broth. The fish itself was rather bland and flavorless, and slightly overcooked. We finished the bouillon, but left bites of fish for the cat.

This trio of dishes should have been the pinnacle, but they revealed missteps and poor choices. We had no complaints over the quality of the fish, only what was done to the fillets at the stove.

Desserts, under the direction of Pastry Chef Michael Laiskonis, ranged from the excellent to the ordinary. To pacify us (although I could hardly be a sweeter and more accommodating diner), we were served an additional dessert. OK. It was the best of the trio: Passion Fruit Cream Enrobed in White Chocolate, Ginger Caramel, and Mandarin Sorbet. The "enrobed white chocolate" was a thin piece served on the side. Good, but not enrobed. However, linguistic defects aside (I'm still vexed about the Peking Salad), the passion fruit cream was delicious and the mandarin sorbet, if not as rich as some, made a suitable match.

The second dessert, Banana Crème Brulée with Citrus-Pistachio Biscuit, Beurre Noisette Ice Cream and Peanut Caramel, despite its many ingredients craved energy. The Crème Brulée sadly lacked its requisite crackly cover. I did enjoy the Brown Butter Ice Cream, but the biscuit was bland and dry.

The final offering was a Dark Chocolate, Cashew and Caramel Tart with Red Wine Reduction, Banana and Malted Rum Milk Chocolate Ice Cream. The tart was unexceptional - dark and rich, and about what one might find at a better bakery. The malted rum ice cream had a nice rum flavor, although the chocolate taste was muted.

Lovely dishes are to be had at Le Bernardin, but the inconsistency, particularly on "lightly cooked" list suggest that the kitchen may be distracted. Has the Bush economy forced worthy cooks to work a second shift to place better bread on the table? What good is a night job when your admirers wonder at the gaffes that should never happen during the day. Chef Ripert and his Sous Chef Chris Miller are making too many Freudian slips.

Before we decide if a great fish restaurant can match an unbounded restaurant, we must rediscover that great fish restaurant.

Le Bernardin
155 W. 51st Street (Between 6th and 7th Avenues)
Manhattan (Midtown West)
212-554-1515

http://www.vealcheeks.blogspot.com

Gary,

Beautiful pieces you're writing from NYC. Thanks for sharing them with us here at LTH.

I've been to La Bernardin at least 4 times since the mid-eighties and have hit a wide spectrum of results on the enjoyability meter. My experiences there were much more satisfying in the La Coze era of the early days than under the present Eric Ripert regime.


From special to benign, at least from the perspective of value is how I would describe La Bernardin today. Certainly far from being just another restaurant but not up to its glory days of yore.

I used to say that they easily created the best fish sauces I've experienced anywhere. True works of art on the palette.

However, on my last visit about 2 years ago, I remember walking out being less than impressed, foodwise, pretty much straight across the board.

One thing that I have found unwaveringly consistent there, though, is their amazing service. No matter who is running the show there, they have always had sensationally attentive and personable professional servers.

Have you ever tried the Park Bistro, across the street from Les Halles? I'm curious what your assessment of it would be since it's the one higher end place that I find myself running to virtually every time I'm in NY.



Park Bistro
414 Park Ave S
Btwn 28th & 29th St
Phone: 212-689-1360

I haven't been to Park Bistro, but the next time you and Trixie-Pea are in town we can arrange a LTH-NY event, with Di Fara for appetizer.

And, yes, our service was exemplary with the exception of the sommelier's gaffe - and we gave a fairly decent tip (about 18%). Given the problems, I didn't want to go as high as 20%, which to me means a superior dinner, but neither did I want to shortchange the very pleasant server.

Pigmon's parents, HowLop and Coco, so (beyond) generously treated us to a weekend in NYC a couple of years ago. And one of our flagship meals was at Le Bernardin.

The food at this restaurant is very traditional in its execution. You do not see a lot of dishes with more than 3 or 4 ingredients. Technique, over innovation is stressed, which in this time of hyper-creative chefery, is a welcome respite, especially when it's done well.

GAF, it was interesting to hear your critique on your Halibut dish because I also ordered a Halibut dish, however mine was billed as Halibut with a truffle cream. I also felt my fish was overcooked--but after reading through the Le Bernardin Cookbook, I see that Ripert likes to cook his fish all the way through. To my palette it seemed well-done, but perhaps this is just his way. Your description doesn't seem to fall in this category--but I think that the current trend is to serve fish rare, which Ripert apparently abhors. My truffle cream sauce was bland--and the presentation was white-on-white. White fish on a white plate, with white sauce--not even a sprig of parsley for contrast.

My dish, though, I believe was the low point of our order. Everything else seemed to range from good to quite good. Rob's Dad ordered the "surf and turf"--which was a braised short rib w/ roasted monk fish in a red wine reduction. Perfectly cooked (monkfish is hearty enough to stand up to good hearty roasting).

Now, here is where it gets interesting...Pigmon and Pigmon's Mom (PIGMOM?) both ordered the same dish: Poached Skate. The traditional method is of course, sauteed in brown butter with lemon and capers. Classic. The description on the menu that day, though, sounded unfamiliar...a poached preparation. Pigmon's mom requested that her skate be done in the more traditional fashion. Our waiter, who was superb, was more than happy to accomodate the request--but suggested that she might want to try the dish poached first and then, if she didn't find it to her liking, they would happily bring her the sauteed version. She was sold immediately! (I thought this was a wonderful approach to service.) The skate came and it was great. Moist and flavorful.

The best parts of our meal, though, in my opinion were the appetizers and the desserts. For an appetizer we all had a deconstructed bouillabaise that was one of the best soups I've had to date (although PIGMON's version is a mind-blowing experience). The bowls that were brought to the table contained a mound of pristine seafood, to which a hot kettle of impossibly aromatic seafood broth was poured over. The mound of shellfish melted into the soup. Just fantastic. The highlight of my meal.

Piggy and I are not dessert folks--but the pastry chef at Le B' was amazing. Delicate, not too sweet, complex, perfect.

Service was uber-professional. The experience overall was wonderful...maybe a little stiff for my personal taste...but a great meal, had with great people to celebrate the birth of our own PIGMON. (oink).

trixie-pea

PIGMON wrote:Gary,

Beautiful pieces you're writing from NYC. Thanks for sharing them with us here at LTH.

Gary,

Agree wholeheartedly with Pigmon. Though I don't have much to add to your NYC posts, I'm thoroughly enjoying 'eating' vicariously through your well crafted and interesting writing.

Enjoy,
Gary

Loaves and Fishes – Le Bernardin – New York

Nearly twenty years ago I had one of the most splendid and memorable meals of my life at Le Bernardin. As it happened, and although we did not realize it at the time, it was the last restaurant meal that I had with my father who died soon afterwards and whose given name was Bernard. How is that for irony! To be sure the circumstances of that meal cast a somewhat nostalgic glow on all that fish, but we both knew immediately how wonderful the meal was. Chef Eric Ripert had recently arrived at Le Bernardin, still working with Gilbert Le Coze.

Some fifteen years later I finally returned on my own dime: Dismay ensued. Chef Ripert was not in the kitchen that night and he had his mind on other matters (he was consulting on a failed restaurant opening). There were some astonishing dishes (a flight of raw fluke, for instance), but one dish was so overcooked that I returned it to the kitchen, caught between embarrassment and anger, perhaps the only time I have done that at a restaurant of serious mien. The expeditor had apparently gone AWOL. Other dishes were not brilliant either. And, as I noted at the time, the bread was cold and stale, which, when returned to the table, was presented warm and stale.

Five years later I returned. And Chef Ripert’s mind was now firmly focused on the plate: my wife and I were delighted with our choices, although as seems generally true at Le Bernardin, the less that the seafood is heated, the better for all concerned. Still before I discuss the courses, the great and embarrassing failure of Le Bernardin is still their bread service. Unlike most grand restaurants, they do not bake their own bread, and it shows. The bread was a notch above the slabs from five years back, but they were still mediocre and some slightly stale. When one compares the bread service with Per Se or Jean-George, well, one cannot compare the bread service. Think Olive Garden. Perhaps Chef Ripert believes that we should all live gluten-free.

The pictures tell the story: here is a chef who creates exquisite compositions with raw or barely warmed fish – oceanic and from the shell. The striped bass tartare with a watermelon radish carpaccio was a delight for all those who love radish (my father did and he passed that passion on). The scallop slivers with mandarin puffs and scorched lemon were a nearly perfect composition of sweet scallop and tarted-up citrus.


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Striped Bass Tartare, "Watermelon Radish Carpaccio," Mustard Oil, Red Dulce Seaweed Vinaigrette by garyalanfine, on Flickr


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Scallop Slivers, Mandarin Puffs and Scorched Lemon, Rosemary Vinaigrette by garyalanfine, on Flickr

Much the same could be said of the warm lobster carpaccio, hearts of palm and orange vinaigrette. Perhaps Chef Ripert overuses vinaigrette (although that serves to preserve the fish), but each dish stands on its own. The smoked yellowfin tuna “prosciutto” was stunning visually and compelling as an artwork for the mouth. Here is sashimi with a Gallic accent.


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Warm Lobster Carpaccio, Hearts of Palm, Orange Vinaigrette by garyalanfine, on Flickr


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Smoked Yellow fine Tuna "Prosciutto", Japanese Pickled Vegetables and Crispy Kombu by garyalanfine, on Flickr

Slightly – but only slightly – less successful was the barely cooked wild salmon with braised burgundy snails, heirloom potatoes, and pernod scented sauce. I felt that the combination was a little less than brilliant, but each ingredient worked on its own terms. Baked lobster with mole puree was not as strongly flavored as I expected, but at least the good, clean lobster was not overwhelmed.


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Barely Cooked Wild Salmon, Braised Burgundy Snails, Heirloom Potatoes, Sweet Garlic Parsley, and Pernod Scented Sauce by garyalanfine, on Flickr


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Baked Lobster, Mole Puree, Stuffed Baby Cabbage and Bacon Bordelaise by garyalanfine, on Flickr

Desserts were appropriately modern, if less memorable than the raw seafood. Pistachio mouse with caramelized white chocolate was pleasantly architectural, and the chestnut mousse was well-prepared and echoed with the baked chestnuts being sold by winter vendors on New York streets. But one does not dine at Le Bernardin for the dessert.


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Pistachio Mousse, Caramelized White Chocolate, Lemon, Bing Cherry by garyalanfine, on Flickr


Le Bernardin - New York - December 2010 - Chestnut Mousse by garyalanfine, on Flickr

Chef Ripert cooks in a modern style, but without the experimental techniques that one sometimes found at L20 under the leadership of Laurent Gras (Gras’ seared foie gras with cotton candy and bee pollen is a dish as memorable in its own way as Tom Keller’s Oysters and Pearls). Still, at Le Bernardin there was a commitment to quality this night as there had been some two decades back.

I understand from the proficient staff that the dining room will be restructured and revamped, and that some recognize that the bread service is not up to par (I hope that the chef is included in this worried minyan). I rather like the dining room, but in this Christmas season, let us not forget the miraculous pairing of loaves and fishes.

Le Bernardin
155 West 51st Street
New York
212 – 554 - 1515
http://www.le-bernardin.com

Vealcheeks

Very nice post & pics.

If nothing else, I really like the fact that menu features nary an asparagus or other un-seasonal item. Cheers to the Chef.

On our last day in New York, we hit Le Bernardin just as they were opening for the day. We sat right underneath their gorgeous painting, which only appears to be a painting when you're sitting directly underneath it and can view the brushstrokes. Le Bernardin has to be the prettiest restaurant I have ever dined in..




The moment we sat down, crisps came out

with a nice spread that included both poached and smoked salmon

and butter

my wife's fingernails did not belong in this restaurant.

First Course:

OYSTERS



TUNA Layers of Thinly Pounded Yellowfin Tuna; Foie Gras and Toasted Baguette, Shaved Chives and Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Tuna was great, but if I didn't know there was foie gras hiding underneath, I never would have known.


My wife's fingernails had been spotted by the staff

Main Course:
LOBSTER Baked Lobster “Goulash”; Light Potato Gnocchi Braised Pearl Onions



Tasted like it looked - phenomenal.

SKATE Poached Skate and Warm Oysters; Brussels Sprouts-Bacon Mignonette, Dijon Mustard Sherry Emulsion

Skate melted away, but there was a slightly sour taste to it that wasn't all that pleasant.

Dessert Course:
COFFEE Caramel Crémeux, Mascarpone Mousse, Coffee Ice Cream


CHOCOLATE-POPCORN Madagascan Chocolate Ganache, Candied Peanuts, Popcorn Ice Cream


While Chef Ripert's dishes were simple in execution choosing instead to highlight the fish, Laurie Jon Moran's desserts were pretty explosive.

MIGNARDISES

fluffy and sweet. A very nice ending to an enjoyable meal.

While not the dining highlight of my trip (thank you, WD~50), this was still a meal I'll look back on fondly.

"my wife's fingernails did not belong in this restaurant."

Banner quote. PLEASE?

And LOVELY post and pics, incite, as always. You provide both great visuals AND insightful commentary. Thanks!!