Next: Bocuse D'Or

Next's Bocuse D'Or menu officially starts tomorrow. Some of the tickets went on sale earlier today and Nick Kokonas posted a video teaser: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSnhoOwo ... e=youtu.be

This "theme" looks very promising; I was not crazy about the past three menus but am extremely excited for this one (though will not be attending until early December). Hopefully some first hand feedback will be posted within the next few days; look forward to hearing what people have to say.

THey are having power issues tonight and are refunding all the tickets
https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php? ... =notify_me

People are understandably upset because they are just being cancelled on and not offered another date.

I don't know why I care, but I don't think Next needs a new thread every time the menu changes...

TCK wrote:I don't know why I care, but I don't think Next needs a new thread every time the menu changes...

I like a separate thread for each incarnation, but maybe we should have an index thread that links to each separate one?

Independent George wrote:

TCK wrote:I don't know why I care, but I don't think Next needs a new thread every time the menu changes...

I like a separate thread for each incarnation, but maybe we should have an index thread that links to each separate one?

We keep them separate because it's the best way to keep discussion of the very different menus organized in a useful way. For now, we're not planning an index. If you search on Next, you'll find each of the dedicated threads. Hopefully, that will be adequate for the times folks want to go back and read about the previous menus.

Thanks,

=R=
for the Moderators

ronnie_suburban wrote:

Independent George wrote:

TCK wrote:I don't know why I care, but I don't think Next needs a new thread every time the menu changes...

I like a separate thread for each incarnation, but maybe we should have an index thread that links to each separate one?

We keep them separate because it's the best way to keep discussion of the very different menus organized in a useful way. For now, we're not planning an index. If you search on Next, you'll find each of the dedicated threads. Hopefully, that will be adequate for the times folks want to go back and read about the previous menus.

Thanks,

=R=
for the Moderators

This is an interesting point of discussion to me, and it extends beyond LTH. For example, I am not the first to question that Phil Vettel reviews every menu. The first year or so, I think there was a lot of hype, some promoted from within, that it is "a new restaurant every three months" (later four months). Currently, however, it is clearly "one restaurant", with a menu that changes a few times a year, as do most establishments with tasting menus (Elizabeth and Feast & Imbibe are two I recall that specifically announce the end of one seasonal menu and the start of the next, pun not intended, rather than gradually phasing out or tweaking courses). While Ronnie identified "the very different menus", I don't think it is a very different experience any more, from season to season. There are many features of the menu design, beverage program, ticketing system, and service style that make it a uniquely identifiable and consistent experience from meal to meal, despite the changing food on the plates. Even as I write, I think, "Does this comment belong on the Bocuse thread or should I have gone back to the original Next thread?" And that is the reason that I believe that it would now make sense to merge the threads, or connect to an index. The posted dates would tend to correspond to a particular menu, but there would be a continuity that reflects the growth and progression of the restaurant, and more comfortably allow for discussion beyond the specific menu theme.

What TCK and Smassey said.

Essentially, Next is guaranteed a brand new thread all to itself three times a year. How many do Blackbird or Vie or (fill in the name of any other Chicago restaurant) get?

Folks,

We're going to keep the Next threads separate. It's easier to navigate them and search for information that way. It isn't preferential treatment. In fact, it could be argued that keeping them separate is actually a negative for the restaurant. But in the end, it's just a logistics issue.

Thanks again, for the comments.

=R=
for the Moderators

Roger Ramjet wrote:How many do Blackbird or Vie or (fill in the name of any other Chicago restaurant) get?

And how often do Blackbird or Vie (or any other Chicago restaurant) completely and totally change their menu every four months? Changing not only the menu but the entire focus, cuisine, and presentation (overall) of what they serve? Tweak, sure; add and subtract dishes, sure. But redo the menu from top to bottom, changing continents, time periods, etc. I agree wholeheartedly with the mods' decision on this. As a practical matter, it would be a nightmare. Some of these individual threads go on for hundreds and hundreds of posts. At least, if I search on the Paris 1906 thread, I'll find the vast majority of posts related to that specific menu (plus, as always, too many people posting about the ticketing system, the ethics, morality, genius (both evil and otherwise) of the concept, of the ticketing system, etc.)

Has anyone gone yet?

I notice that they can't accommodate for allergies (not surprising, given how intricate the preparations must be). I have a shellfish allergy, and I'm wondering if it's something I can eat around (skipping certain courses, or just avoiding eating the prawn on my plate).

Worst case scenario - I take a pack of Benadryl with me, and make a break for Stroger just after dessert. I am determined to go.

Gypsy Boy wrote:

Roger Ramjet wrote:How many do Blackbird or Vie or (fill in the name of any other Chicago restaurant) get?

And how often do Blackbird or Vie (or any other Chicago restaurant) completely and totally change their menu every four months? Changing not only the menu but the entire focus, cuisine, and presentation (overall) of what they serve? Tweak, sure; add and subtract dishes, sure. But redo the menu from top to bottom, changing continents, time periods, etc. I agree wholeheartedly with the mods' decision on this. As a practical matter, it would be a nightmare. Some of these individual threads go on for hundreds and hundreds of posts. At least, if I search on the Paris 1906 thread, I'll find the vast majority of posts related to that specific menu (plus, as always, too many people posting about the ticketing system, the ethics, morality, genius (both evil and otherwise) of the concept, of the ticketing system, etc.)

Uh huh.

Discussion of that issue appears to have been quashed.

Thank you for your contribution though.

has anybody been yet? I am going in a few weeks and am itching for some spoilers!

also, this will be my first time at next, and I was wondering if most men wear suits.

streaksinthesky wrote:has anybody been yet? I am going in a few weeks and am itching for some spoilers!

also, this will be my first time at next, and I was wondering if most men wear suits.

Some men wear suits. Most wear dark jeans with a button down and sports jacket. I usually wear dark jeans and a nice button down (no jacket). I would go comfortable and be prepared to drink a lot of wine and eat a lot of food.

Personally, I would not wear a suit. I would feel out of place there

streaksinthesky wrote:has anybody been yet? I am going in a few weeks and am itching for some spoilers!

also, this will be my first time at next, and I was wondering if most men wear suits.

There are pictures and feedback on Next's Facebook page. I have had a few friends go and been hearing very positive feedback overall us far. Dress wise you definitely do not need a suit; dress pants or nice jeans with a collared shirt will suffice if you want more casual.

Sigh. I had a chance at getting tickets on the opening Friday, but couldn't pull the trigger due to scheduling. Haven't come close getting tickets since.

[tease]Ate there last night. Just the Lovely Dining Companion et moi. I never thought anything could come close to Paris 1906. Suffice to say, I was wrong. Even the pictures came out. Deep in editing (and writing) mode right now. Will try to post in the next few days. Figured no one wanted to see pics alone with no text (or am I wrong?).[/tease]

On the clothing "issue": dress ran the gamut from jeans and motorcycle jackets to extremely fashionably dressed. No one pays much attention; everyone in the room is pretty much focused elsewhere.

I also ate there last Wednesday night as part of a foursome. I guess I'm the outlier because I very much enjoyed it, but it was my least favorite of the three I've been to (also Thai and The Hunt). My dining companions liked it much more than I did too. Everything was very well done, I think this particular cooking style just isn't my favorite. Some of the earlier stuff felt like recipes out of a 1960s cookbook (like ham mousse in aspic) and I'm just not into that even if it is perhaps the best execution of that dish possible.

In particular I found some of the earlier items disappointed me, but then the meat and dessert dishes were really outstanding (the menu goes from smaller bites to fish to meat to dessert). Service was generally good, but really slowed down to the end (we left just after 11:30 for a 7:30 reservation). I also have pictures of each course but haven't been able to put them online yet.

If anyone is interested in attending this menu, my girlfriend and I are looking for another two to join us on Thursday, October 3rd at 8:00 PM. Tickets are $259 per person inclusive of tax, tip and water service. You can upgrade to beverage pairings at the restaurant (and we likely will).

Please send me a note if interested. Apologies if this is in the wrong place.

Should you go? In a word, hell yes. I wouldn’t presume to advise how you should get tickets, but I will say that the only meal at Next that the Lovely Dining Companion and I have not had was Childhood, so I think we have a fairly solid sense of history and context. Paris 1906 has always been my favorite among them all by a comfortable margin. I’ve enjoyed most of the others and been variously intrigued, impressed, and otherwise amazed by each. This meal comes a very close second in my culinary universe to Paris 1906.

Although there are many things to say about the room, the service, and the intention of the evening, I think it best to just jump right in with the food and address the other things at the end. So, you will begin, as we did, with a beautiful and beautifully presented terrine. (Our server identified it as veal and pork but the souvenir menu says nothing about pork.)


Veal terrine: the presentation


Veal terrine: the bite

Unfair in the extreme: you receive this absolutely lovely presentation, slice of terrine laid across the bottom, frisée sprinkled lovingly atop. A pair of “dressings” alongside: a whole-grain mustard and cipollini marmalade (more like a jelly in my estimation). Then, as they place the bread before you, comes the warning. “Don’t finish it.” They are speaking the gospel truth; heed them. Make sure not to eat it all. You’re not intended/expected to nor would you be wise to. You don’t want to spoil your appetite, now, do you? Yes, as a matter of fact, I damn well do. Maybe not the best terrine I’ve had, but very enjoyable and the cipollini marmalade was top-notch. The mustard was, well, mustard. The disappointment was the completely unremarkable, room-temperature bread. Not even a ghost of warmth—or real crust for that matter.


Osetra caviar: the presentation


Osetra caviar, beurre blanc: the bite

According to the staff, it seems that some people insist on using utensils to eat this. A perfectly composed amuse ensconced in a ciabatta crisp. You can see a single pine nut in there and other little tidbits—I don’t take notes and this is why I’d love some sort of take-away menu that lists everything. There’s too much going on in the moment to remember all the little bits and pieces and it would be nice to look back and be able to point to something that added that little something. Alas. The bite? Classic.


Mousse of Darden Ham: the presentation


Mousse and aspic, a cross-section

I thought I heard the server say something about jamon Iberico. The souvenir menu, however, says nothing about it, leading me to believe that it’s probably not there. (I also believe that they mean Darden ham; the menu spells it Dardon, which identifies nothing I’ve heard of, whereas Darden Ham from Smithfield County, Virginia….) Either way, the mousse had a wonderful texture, was well-balanced, and flavorful but two things made it a bit less than great for me: I found the mousse a trifle salty and I thought the madeira aspic much too thick. In the event, quibbles. The presentation, as you can see, was lovely and the plusses (read: the taste) overcame the minuses; of course I’d be more than happy for another serving, thank you.


Soufflé of prawns

I start with my quibble: either the soufflé stayed in the oven about thirty seconds too long or it waited to be served just a minute too long. The top was ever so slightly dried out, not quite the right texture. Otherwise, a beautiful item: surprisingly, amazingly redolent of prawn. And if you have a mind to dig down to the bottom, you will be rewarded with a bit of oil that oozed from the prawn chunks and a much moister souffle. But again, I quibble. A remarkable dish. Exactly the right portion. One other note: it had a definable sweet note, more than could possibly be attributed to the seafood. So I asked: Chef coats the sides of the dish with sugar! It’s exactly the perfect amount: it heightens the natural sweetness of the prawns without making it a sweet dish. Think sea salt on caramels—in reverse!


Cauliflower custard with frozen rose

O my dear lord, what a perfect dish! Cauliflower custard? Yup! With foie (yes) and verjus rouge (usually, but not always, the pressing of distinctly unripened grapes—for acid and for flavor; I neglected to ask the source). Speaking of foie: notice the tiny rice-like pellets. That’s foie. Our terrific server (Alex) got the technique direct from Chef Beran; it’s lengthy, complicated, and results in this meltingly divine presentation. Oh, and did I mention the rose? This is Next. The amazing isn’t enough of itself. Think Next, think oh, say, liquid nitrogen. Who else would take the rose that served as the centerpiece, dunk it into liquid nitrogen, then rub it gently as the petals break off, only to spoon the shards over the dish? (I wouldn’t say that putting the damaged rose back in the vase is necessarily the brightest move, though.) You may think you don’t like cauliflower. Think again. A strong contender for favorite dish of the evening.


Charred romaine. And bottarga. And bonito. And peanut.

Chef likes to burn things. That’s what the server said. So, one day, as he was burning some lettuce, he noticed that it changed the flavor to something almost peanut-like. Me, I don’t get it. Didn’t get the whole dish, truth be told. But LDC loved it. Something very Japanese about it (and I’m not just speaking of the togarashi in the “soup” portion). This was the only course out of fifteen that I had to push myself to finish. I kept thinking, “I’m gonna get it, I’m gonna get it. There’s something just waiting to fall into place.” Nothing ever did. The dish simply never clicked for me. But that’s okay: 14 out of 15 is a pretty good percentage.


Deconstructed brook trout


Deconstructed brook trout, alternate view

I’m tempted to say that there was simply too much going on here: if you look closely, you can see the desiccated spine protruding from the complete fish head. Not for the squeamish (and I’m not entirely sure I agree with their decision not to even mention this). Taken as a single bite, the head is nothing more than crispy; little flavor remains. Green blueberries were added for their acid punch, no doubt. But I thought that they were too sour and didn’t bring enough acid. The trout was wonderful but what with the coddled eggs, the celeriac, the olive oil sphere, the kaolin "eggshell," and the multiplicity of other things I’ve forgotten, the plate is a little too…busy. Don’t misunderstand, the centerpiece of the course was excellent, both as to quality and taste. But it was almost lost in the variety of other ingredients and things happening in your view and in your mouth.


King salmon

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not a salmon fan. I’ll eat it, I might even enjoy it, sorta. But I’ll never be a fan; it will never be a treat for me. This dish showcased salmon. I expected to like it less than I did. King salmon from Neah Bay in Washington State. Poached—after a fashion. You’ll notice it retained its color and the texture was superb. Mildly flavored and just a wonderful dish, complemented by the beets. I feared they would overwhelm it but they simply didn’t. A lovely little brown butter and a really pleasurable dish. (Note: the course is served on a glass/plastic? sheet over a hollowed out slice of log. Under the surface on which the food is placed are the various aromatic items that have been heated or grilled, a somewhat more rustic version of the lavender pillows at Alinea and serving the same function.)


Consommé of roasted mushrooms

This is a tribute to Chef Bocuse. He invented the dish (albeit with truffle instead of mushrooms) for his “client” at the time, the president of France, Valery Giscard d’Estaing. (If I recall correctly, the dish is known as ‘Consommé VGE’.) Here, Chef Beran features a variety of locally foraged mushrooms (I think I heard Wisconsin, Indiana, and up near Rockford)—“local” being an element of the competition—reduced to the most intense, clearest, richest consommé you can imagine. I was a little dismayed on breaking through the puff pastry top to discover only about one-quarter cup of consommé. Silly me. It was so rich that you’d be hard pressed to have any more and still have room for all the dishes still to come. High on the “course of the evening” list.


Pheasant two ways

The presentation reminded me of the poussin course in Paris 1906. But here we are given pheasant, prepared two ways. I defy you not to love this dish. First, a diamond-shaped slice of the bird has been smoked in hay and is presented with sauce blanquette. (The sauce is a classic sauce simply flavored with mushrooms and herbs.) Then, in a pastry flowerpot sits a tiny leek plant growing in dirt composed of finely ground pheasant skin and pumpernickel crumbs. The two little spheres are apple soaked in ginger juice. And the kitchen very thoughtfully pre-slices the grilled leek (which would have been very difficult to slice with the knives we had). Absolutely killer dish. (Not to mention that it picks up on a number of the Bocuse d’Or’s criteria, such as local and seasonal ingredients.)


Ribeye with “potato marrow” and béarnaise nugget

The last savory dish. Talk about going out with a bang! A small slab of ribeye rolled around some boudin vert. So carried away was I by this dish that I neglected to ask the ingredients in the boudin vert; the internet informs me that it is a Belgian sausage made of equal parts kale and pork. Hmm. Don’t know. More to the point, don’t care. The ribeye is presented with a generous nugget of béarnaise. There’s also a chunk of carrot roasted to a delicious sweetness. Oh, the bone, you ask? Perhaps you have heard of Joël Robuchon’s mashed potatoes? Perhaps not. Either way, move over M. Robuchon! Potatoes mashed to pillowy consistency with bone marrow. If I could have picked the bone up and licked it clean without embarrassing my wife, I’d have done so. Words simply fail me. The entire course was just exquisite.

The pity, as LDC noted quite aptly, is that by this point in the evening, you’re likely to be feeling sated. Hell, you’re feeling pretty full and you begin to feel that you can hardly do these courses justice because your appetite has diminished. Substantially. None of the portions is particularly large (only now do we recall, with regret, not quite taking the server’s words of advice on the terrine to heart) but the richness begins to overwhelm.


Shaving the tête de moine


Cheese course

Featuring the fascinatingly cheesy tête de moine, a cows’ milk cheese from the Swiss side of the Jura, we were told. On the other hand, we were not told that the name means “monk’s head” nor was the significance of the name explained. I thought the presentation exquisite, the cheese quite interesting, and the course as a whole, wonderful. Inside the globe when it was presented were already cashews, pear, and milk skin (or as the server said, yuba). The server shaved away at the cheese while explaining its provenance. It has a definitely nutty flavor and also retains a tang that some may not care for. I have to confess that doing my post-dinner research on it, I found a descriptor that’s probably a first: “musty wood mold.” I still think you should try it. The complements were well-chosen and the course fit well into the overall feeling of a French dinner.


Bombe “in the style of apple pie”


Squash, huckleberries…

My experience is that when we get to desserts, it gets personal. One person’s “delectable” is another’s “it was alright” and someone else’s “you’re joking, right?” And so I found it with these desserts. The LDC loved this deconstructed apple pie: ice cream bombe (white chocolate ice cream), marshmallow shmear, apple “caviar,” pastry lattice, while I found it more creative than scrumptious. On the other hand, she wasn’t much taken with the distinctly autumnal squash and huckleberries (plus a pecan oatmeal cookie to a recipe from Chef Beran’s grandmother). I don’t know what the flowers were but they were fascinating; the butter pecan ice cream, however, was downright odd. I don’t know what accounted for the distinctively sour note (yogurt?), but it overpowered any butter pecan flavor, to my personal dismay. But the squash cube was playful, seasonal, local, and delicious.


Mignardises

Forgive me but can we move on now? I understand the desire to leave on a last note like this: sweet, tiny, and designed to put a smile on your face. An evening-ending amuse, as it were. And, like most mignardises I’ve had most places, they were fine. I ate them, as I always do, and I liked them (as I almost always do). The pumpkin macaron in particular was nice for the same reasons as the squash dessert. A fleur de sel caramel dipped in 99% (!) chocolate. Truffle with chocolate, raspberry, and hazelnut. Mignardises are the new bacon. Enough already. Let us bid them a not-so-fond adieu and end with port and cigars! Or better still, a Pedro Ximenez sherry.

A few odd and sundry notes

This meal is presented as the Bocuse d’Or. In other words, it is presented as honoring the competition. The room is decorated with dozens of miniature national flags, three television monitors playing nonstop feeds from the competition (complete with highly excited commentary, most of which is in French), and a couple hours into dinner (depending on your starting time) a parade—literally—of oversized (and breathtaking) presentations (as at the competition itself).


The room

We understand the intention, we appreciate the desire to pay tribute. But it felt a little bit like eating dinner on the “Iron Chef” set. It is undoubtedly hard to decorate a room to celebrate a competition, especially a culinary competition, but until the room filled and conversation overtook the television monitors, the breathless commentator got tiresome quickly. And even the parade of oversize platters didn’t come off as I think they might have intended.


The Platter Parade

The room lights come up full. Platter bearers with absolutely enormous “trays” appear. These platters have breathtaking presentations and are slowly carried up the aisle and back. But it’s hard to really know or even appreciate what you’re seeing as the bearers walk by in a moment as camera flashes go off—the servers actively encourage flash photography of this display and no one there needs to be asked twice. I suppose it contributes to the “feel” of a competition, but I’m not sure that’s the way to go in the middle of service.

Because the evening is designed around one service, there is no pressure to turn the tables and we found the experience more relaxed. We’ve never felt rushed at Next, but there have been times when pauses would definitely have been welcomed. On occasion we’ve taken turns pretending to visit the restroom simply to give ourselves the time to decompress, to wait, and to allow things to proceed a bit more slowly. There was no need to do that for this meal. All the servers (and we note, again, an apparently substantial turnover in personnel) seemed to be more relaxed, to take a breath, and to allow themselves and the service to proceed a trifle more slowly. Though most were fairly polished, one or two seemed like they were reciting memorized scripts. The slower pace was definitely noticed and appreciated. The first tables begin at 6 pm and the room did not become entirely full until sometime around 8 pm, I’d guess. All of which helped slow the pace and allow for a more relaxed feel. Until the room filled, the room was quieter, the pace calmer. (Except for the frenetic television commentary.)

The Grand Summation

This meal exemplifies why we—meaning the LDC and I—go to Next. You probably won’t like every dish, but the creativity, the inventiveness, the presentation, the quality and range of ingredients, the serving ware, the execution…everything is on such an astonishingly high level that you cannot walk away without being impressed. Oh, and the food tastes pretty good, too. You can’t imagine what’s coming next—either in the context of the meal or in the context of the season. But you can’t wait to find out. It’s what makes Next the place it is.

Thanks for sharing your pictures and thoughts! I am really looking forward to this meal.

Considering the (excellent) photos, it is clear that this is a tribute to the Bocuse d'Or competition, and not to Bocuse. Many of the dishes seemed very contemporary and modernist, not characteristic of Chef Bocuse at his height. Of course, the label says precisely this, but given that some have called it the "Bocuse" dinner (in line with the Escoffier dinner or the El Bulli dinner), the clarification might be useful.

Gary,
You are partly right. In fact, I deleted a lengthy paragraph of my review devoted to this precise issue. In fairness, some of the courses were either directly inspired by or close versions of Bocuse's dishes. Thus, the souffle (swapping local mushrooms for truffles) and the mousse (adding the aspic). The souvenir menu actually says: "We are giving a nod to the cuisine of esteemed chef Paul Bocuse, the competition's namesake." And Bocuse's approach was often honored as well. It's not hard to discern his nouvelle cuisine beneath a number of the presentations, contemporary though they may be. Still, it's a fine line to draw and I wish they had been clearer about it; the distinction bothered me as well and I particularly wish that either the souvenir menu or the introductory patter had been explicit about who Bocuse was and why he is such a giant.

I was not a fan of the Vegan or Hunt menus, but I enjoyed this one. There was only one dish I didn't like and that was the trout dish, which as Gypsy Boy notes, just has too much going on and the elements themselves both clash and aren't very good individually. When I was served the dish I thought the skin on the trout was beautiful, like a mottled peacock. However, there is a good reason it's not usually served that way. Eating that skin was like trying to eat a piece of cling wrap. I gave up. Maybe that sort of thing is why the US never wins the Bocuse D'Or.

Otherwise there were a couple of well-executed classics like the terrine and some truly outstanding dishes like the silky bone marrow potatoes, the fragrant rose cauliflower custard, and the melt in your mouth pheasant. It had highlights I felt the last two menus lacked and far fewer lowlights. I do think some of the dishes were a bit salty though, like the ham aspic and the consommé. The staff didn't seem that thrilled with carrying the parade "floats."

mgmcewen wrote:...truly outstanding dishes like the silky bone marrow potatoes, the fragrant rose cauliflower custard, and the melt in your mouth peasant.

JeffB wrote:

mgmcewen wrote:...truly outstanding dishes like the silky bone marrow potatoes, the fragrant rose cauliflower custard, and the melt in your mouth peasant.

Truly a luxurious dining experience.

Selling two tickets for the menu on 12/1.

Tickets are $259/ea, tax and tip included, without pairings (can purchase pairings at meal).