Thank you, Dom, for articulating better than I think I’m able to why I had pretty much the same reaction. I’ve been working on this review off and on for several weeks but, in the end, I left the meal and conclude this review in the same place—feeling conflicted.

Welcome

Centerpiece

Edible pond
This meal is probably the most difficult one to summarize or react to because I had very different reactions to different aspects of the meal. I wasn’t a fan of the taste of the food but I was often blown away by some of the imaginativeness and creativity. Vegan would not be my diet of choice but I’ve got no problems eating a meal that’s only vegan. And while there were undoubtedly courses that I liked more than others, nothing made me sit up and say, “Wow!” I just didn’t find any particular thing so delicious that I craved seconds or thirds. That said, the ingenuity, the sheer genius in the way ingredients were used, the way dishes were put together, and the creativity with both the food and the presentation may be the most impressive of all the meals I’ve had at Next (the Lovely Dining Companion and I have had every single one except Childhood).

Rock with stuff
The opening course with the crackers, avocado puree, and “stuff” (including fried kale and sprouted tempeh) on top exemplifies the meal for me. The flavors were clean and distinct even if they didn’t do anything for me, but I thought that the inventiveness was amazing. My only complaint with this course is that food kept arriving even as we were working on this course and I felt more than a little rushed to hurry up and eat so as not to fall behind. I hate that feeling and didn’t know why there was the sense of urgency to get things going so quickly. Our reservation was for 6 and the room was perhaps a third full when we arrived.
The pity of falling behind a bit at the outset is compounded, I think, by the fact that the single best bite of the evening, in my opinion, followed the rock: the frozen baked potato. It’s easy to see an Alinea connection here and this is really the single bite I remember liking the best.
I’m not going to do a blow-by-blow of each course. Partly because my theme is largely the same throughout: astonishing creativity, stunning presentation, top-notch execution, all in the service of food I didn’t particularly like. I make an exception right away though for the frozen baked potato. Probably my single favorite bite of the evening.
Next, driftwood with two items: a nori dumpling and a rambutan, the latter carefully hollowed out and (re-)filled with Earl Grey-flavored rambutan custard. In the interest of full disclosure, the LDC really loved the dumpling. Me? Meh. The rambutan was delicious but I’m not sure I understand (or sufficiently appreciate) the pairing.
Roasted artichoke hearts

Artichoke heart and (eaten) rambutan half.
The roasted artichoke heart was fine. If you like artichokes (and I do), it was lovely. Perfectly roasted, attractively presented, but, in the end, a roasted artichoke.

Tin Man’s Oilcan (used to create):

Apple cider vinegar

Green apple sorbet plus etc.
This was followed by what was presented to us as apple cider vinegar. We were so uncertain we heard right, we asked again and were told, yes, vinegar. Frankly, fermented cider makes more sense. It was unexpectedly rich and deep with only some of the acidic edge one associates with vinegar (again, in the interest of full disclosure, LDC couldn’t stand it, claiming it was far too acidic for her). Much as I enjoyed the drink, I liked the plated portion better: a sorbet redolent of green apples, lichen, and other things. (This is, indeed, one of the greatest problems I have with tasting menus—whether at Next or elsewhere. There are so many ingredients, so many components to a dish, that it is impossible to keep track of the sixteen different things in every course. Unless you bring a tape recorder or take copious notes—both methods making true enjoyment impossible—I’ve always had enormous difficulty knowing what everything on the plate is, much less recalling it days later.)

Having just eaten at Alinea a few weeks before, we should have known that something was up with the small glass “aquarium” that served as the centerpiece. At Alinea, a similar “prop” became a critical part of a course and so, too, here. The floating flora were scooped up and placed in small glass dishes. (It’s worth noting that, as always, the serving ware is nothing short of stunning. In one case, we were told Chef Beran commissioned the making of some plates that we had admired. Sure, they use things over again for different meals. They’d be idiots not to; but that doesn’t detract from the sheer beauty of much of the plates, bowls, dishes, and other containers and implements.)
Rice cracker and rice yogurt
The rice cracker reminded me of nothing so much as a shrimp cracker largely devoid of flavor. So I was the more thrilled to find the rice yogurt surprisingly luscious and even a bit sweet. Other than sharing a sense of whiteness with the white asparagus and the poached pear, I’m again at a loss to “get” the combinations. Everything was fine (there’s that word again) but nothing blew me away.

Salsify several ways
The salsifys (salsifies?) were another lovely presentation of an increasingly popular ingredient. Multiple various uses of salsify from raw to roasted and more with multiple various greens presented in different manners. Um, nice. Fine even. Indeed, this is the course where I began to realize what Dom pointed out above: the kitchen’s (over-)reliance on acid. When you take so many ingredients out of your pantry, you’re forced, inevitably, to rely on far fewer things to accomplish what those missing ingredients can do. And that means two things: overuse and what I’ll call, for lack of a better phrase, palate fatigue.

Swiss chard tempura/douchi (fermented soybeans)
And here is where my brain finally began catching up with my stomach: eye-catching presentation, impressive execution, and perfectly adequate flavor. The dish(es) were just not hitting the right note, for me at least. LDC liked this course (and most courses, in fact) more than I do but she, too, is more impressed with the creativity, the inventiveness, and the presentation more than sheer deliciousness—at least on this one.
Kombu Atoll
I don’t really have much to add to BR’s thoughts. There was nothing objectionable about the flavors but neither of us would rush to order it if it were on a menu. We did, however, acknowledge that the house-made tofu was extraordinary. I remember having the best tofu of my life at Kajitsu, in New York (a meal I reviewed
here), but though this isn’t on that level, the quality is quite remarkable for “amateurs”—and I use that in the literal sense of the word, not as a diminutive in the least. Very, very impressive.

Mushroom cart
We had pretty much the same reaction to the mushroom cart as BR. We’ve seen carts of many kinds over the years, but never a mushroom cart. It was a break intended, we presume, to show us (or showcase for us) some of the mushrooms that would be featured in the soon-to-arrive risotto. Given the perfunctory oral catalogue of mushrooms displayed, this struck us as a huge lost opportunity. If you’re going to go to all the trouble of creating this wonderful idea and then executing it, why not spend more than thirty seconds on it. Don’t just tell us what’s on the cart, explain them to us, tell us what some of their characteristics are. Educate us. But they didn’t.

Risotto with farro
Some of these mushrooms (all of them?) made their way into a mushroom risotto, but Chef Beran substituted farro for rice. Sunflower seeds. Whipped sunflower milk. Sunchokes. In a nutshell, my reaction is: given the choice, I’ll have my risotto made with rice, thanks. As BR noted, it was creamy and retained the high standards of Next but just didn’t quite make it. I suspect that it was the absence of dairy (butter, Parmesan) but all in all, just “fine” yet again.

The Alex Stupak “Thai larb” course. I think I’m better off just stopping at the picture.


Curry Roasted Cauliflower

Naan
Interactivity! Roasted cauliflower and (many) other good things. Using the single chopstick laid before us, we push out the ingredients in the glass tube (note to Next: both of us had a little trouble and were seriously concerned about the glass tube breaking in our hands. Maybe the items inside can be placed in a little less snugly). The charred cauliflower was very good but I thought the naan was just plain not good: it had no airiness at all; it was more like a dense, chewy bread that should have risen but didn’t. While the flavor was alright, there was no lightness to it whatsoever; just very dense. Not tough, not leathery, just not good.
The dessert courses opened with a silver teaspoon on which was carefully placed a bit of olive oil jam and a Szechuan “button.” Instructions were to chew until your mouth felt the tingly, slightly numbed sensation you get from Szechwan peppercorns. It worked although the feeling was much milder than I had anticipated. And, probably for the better, it didn’t last very long. What followed immediately was a host of items: a bowl of chocolate, freeze-dried strawberries, and black truffle. Ahem. Pleasant.
Hibiscus and Pistachio
The LDC, who was much happier with the meal overall, didn’t care for this. I think I understand why, though I confess to enjoying it. Served atop a large “coaster” of a log was an awful lot of items—perhaps too much: shortbread crumbs, pistachio, hibiscus syrup, frozen yogurt, hibiscus and more. I liked the individual flavors but there were so many different things that again, I found the whole somewhat less than the sum of the parts.

Steamed Crepes
Three kinds of steamed “crepes” arrived: passion fruit, exceptionally dark chocolate, and toasted vanilla/maple. Very light, but calling them crepes (while accurate) puts you in the wrong frame of mind, I think. They’re not like crepes at all. They were, as BR noted, far more like miniature sponge cakes. Quite lovely, though they had one interesting characteristic that caught us off-guard. They were far more like typical Japanese desserts than we expected in the sense that the sweetness was dialed down substantially. That doesn’t mean there was no sweetness, only that it’s not like standard American fare, overly sugary.
Overall, a very good meal. However, as I’ve probably made over-clear, more for all the various aspects except sheer deliciousness. The virtuosity of the kitchen, both in terms of sheer ingenuity and their extraordinary learning curve, is second to none. But at the end of the day, no matter how much you wow me with ingenuity, creativity, inventiveness, execution, presentation, etc., I want to love the food. I didn’t. I suspect, as I noted above, some of this came from what I called palate fatigue—the over-reliance on a few things to accomplish the results ordinarily achieved by the use of more and more varied ingredients. Much as I might have enjoyed occasional items or bites, on the whole there was a “satisfying-ness” that I found missing. I can’t really do a better job explaining why I was disappointed, I don’t think.
A word on the non-alcoholic drinks: disappointing. Every single drink seemed overly thought-out. There was too much going on in virtually every drink I got. Too many admittedly interesting components that didn’t combine to create a positive overall effect. Usually, there are at least a couple drinks that wow me; this time, not a single one all evening. Some, to be sure, were more, um, pleasant, than others (thus, I didn’t mind finishing the passion fruit/yerba mate/pineapple concoction served at the outset or the tamarind/aloe/pea drink that came with the Kombu Atoll). On the other hand, the strawberry/rhubarb/black pepper (accompanying the salsify course) left me remarkably underwhelmed and the malt/bitter chocolate/black sesame that came with the hibiscus just didn’t work. I just didn’t think that any of the drinks, not one, had any synergy from the various ingredients. I left feeling slightly cheated and unhappy. I don’t question that a lot of work and thought went into each combination. But while I don’t expect to love every single thing that is presented to me, I sure do expect to like at least a couple things far more than I did. There were six drinks—and no refills, at least not for me.
All that said, it certainly won’t dampen my enthusiasm for Next. We noted, again, the turnover in staff, but the quality of service seemed better to us than the previous visit. Maybe it was luck of the draw. I’ve also noticed that, over time, there seems to be less genuine enthusiasm among the servers we’ve had. They’re still well-informed, professional, and adept. They just don’t seem to ooze the passion, the eagerness, the thrill that we enjoyed the first several times we were there.
It’s impossible, my complaints notwithstanding, not to walk out impressed. As always, the level of execution is amazing. The creativity and passion are clear. If you’ve never had vegan food or never thought much about it, you owe it to yourself to give this a shot. It’s thought-provoking in the best possible way.
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)