Bon Anniversaire: La Panetière

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Opened in 1985 by Jacques Loupiac, La Panetière is celebrating its 31^st Anniversary this year. The French restaurant has been serving Rye, New York, from a handsome house built in the 1800’s for thirty-one years, and their reputation for modern French cuisine remains stalwart.

 Entering La Panetière is like arriving at a retreat in Provence, complete with foliage clinging to the face of the 19^th century home, the charming colorful Provençal décor filled with folklore, and a delicious twist on classic French cuisine. The restaurant is intimate and romantic, cozy like a lovely cottage; however, the food is refined and elegant while the team is knowledgeable about the dishes and wine. There is a focus on the highest quality seasonal ingredients and authenticity inspired by the southeastern region of France.

To commemorate the anniversary, Loupiac and his team put together a veritable birthday party including a special six-course prix fixe dinner with a wine pairing option and an accordionist playing tableside. La Panetière regularly offers both a lunch and dinner prix fixe, but this menu was especially created and presented between August 2^nd and 4^th to celebrate its anniversary.

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The first course comprised of a ring of thinly sliced scallops dancing around a bite of briny sturgeon caviar in a pleasant pool of bittersweet grapefruit aspic. Fresh tomatoes and cleansing celery dotted the scallop carpaccio completing the fresh and clean flavors.

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A petit Hudson Valley foie gras flan was the second course of the special anniversary menu. It was both savory and creamy, complex without pretension. The flan was light as air grounded in earthy simmered mushrooms.

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The sizzling casserole of Maine lobster achieved a lovely balance, with raw almonds adding crunch and bite to the buttery succulence of the lobster tail peeled from its shell at the table. The green beans remained fresh and lively, bringing even more brightness to the aromatic third course.

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Veal filet mignon medallions rounded off the savory courses combining fragrances and malleable textures. The meat was tender and buttery, the curry was like a soft hum, and the vegetables were soft but not lost in the hearty quinoa.

The fifth course, a sweet course, piled summer fresh cherries in Greek Yogurt with a tingling mimosa jelly and Kirshwasser cappuccino. The summery dessert was refreshing, light, and not too sweet, but it was also decadent and layered with unexpected flavors.  

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To end, a caranoix cake, a mix of pecan nougat and caramel with nutella mousse, appealed to luxury. The expertly layered chocolaty dessert was decadent but not too heavy or overwhelming despite a variety of textures.

La Panetière offers an escape to the south of France in the middle of Rye using delectable food, superb service, and a warm atmosphere, all reminiscent of Provence. Here’s to more years of excellence! Joyeux Anniversaire!

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8.16.16

NYCRW: Park Avenue Summer

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Summer loving happened so fast. A prix fixe lunch at Park Avenue Summer for New York City Restaurant Week moved more quickly than desired on the sticky summer’s day, contrary to the languished sighs of summer and the current theme of the space.

There was hardly time to soak in all of the curated details of the restaurant space, which are meant to transport the diner to the summer season: bright yellow walls emulating sunshine, foliage appearing wilted with oppressive summer humidity, and white casts of turtle shells.  Like the menu, with each season the space is transformed to represent the appropriate time of year, and at this moment Park Avenue Summer felt like the dog days of summer, hot and sticky, sweltering with a feeling of lusty temptation.

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Cornbread, bright like the walls of the eatery, radiated fresh warmth and summer corn sweetness. The puffy cornbread bites initially looked like Madeleines, all ruffles and butter, but there was a hint of savory heightened by the spicy brick-red marbled compound butter. The cornbread spoke of lazy days at the end of summer, a familiar feeling even in the City’s unique heat.

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A sole orb of bursting burrata rested on top of a smear of salsa verde, which was bright but not quite right. The creamy cheese oozed from the firm outer skin, melting into the thick tangy salsa verde, colliding with the summer sweetness of peaches and moments of savory basil. Crunchy panzanella added a jolt to reality, bringing a firm texture to the appetizer, like the return trip from a mixed vacation.

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Despite their slightly crunchy exterior, the gnocchi were soft and heavy on the inside, the potato flavor pronounced. Black truffles were shaved on the spot, falling, forming soft peaks, another layer to the appetizer.  Creamy corn with studs of fresh corn surrounded potato pillows. The moat was sweet with an underlying zing that was bright relief from the decadence. This appetizer was a balancing act of light and heavy, sweet and tart, a mix of sun and clouds like an early August day.

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The branzino dish was architectural as two slender steaks of fish were stacked on one another and crispy skin maintained structure. Whimsical disks of firm summer squash echoed fat dots of saffron aioli, a contrast of density and flavors as well. A shallow pool of stewed vegetable ratatouille gave warmth without an expected heaviness. It was an odd but accurate encapsulation of summer.

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Again, corn came to play, but this time with four succulent scallops and tiny pickled peppers. The corn felt raw and tasted green, much like the pretty peppers toasty and slit lengthwise. The dish was a mix of shapes like modern art, while there was more toothy bite from the golden corn and little heat from thin wheels of peppers.  Salt clung to the sweet scallops, like warmth when the sun sets and lingers, mixing with the melodies of the other seasonal ingredients.

Cool and refreshing like the blushing pink frozé, the peach basil sorbet dessert, tickled sweet and savory notes. The basil made the disappointing honey poached peaches sweeter and more refined. However, the poached peaches were reminiscent of those in canned pie filling— saccharine to excess with the constitution of the summer stone fruit compromised.

The fruit tart was pretty as a picture, a collection of summer’s berry bounty. Deep velvet red cherries, striking strawberries, royal blueberries, and gem-like raspberries were looked painted, like glossy jewels on top of the thick short crust and tangy passion-fruit flavors. It tasted like summer should.

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Like the seasons, the dishes and pace were imbalanced. There was not time for constants and stability, subtly or depth. Flavors were intense and at times abrasive much like the celebrated season. The meal mimicked unpredictable and contradictory summer days, with harsh, hot, sun casting a golden glow in one instant, and glowering clouds clinging heavy but ushering cool refreshing raindrops.

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8.1.16

our time : Maritime Parc

It was the last date night before all hell broke loose. I exaggerate… just a little. But it was the last time we would sit down, peaceful and calm, happy and hungry, before the storm. It was the storm of parent-teacher-student conferences and a frenetic work schedule that seemed limitless.

This was our time.  

We held hands in the hushed restaurant and laughed with the backdrop of crisp contemporary and the winking sky-line.

We spent too much time examining the Maritime Parc menus that we were faintly familiar with, weighing the options as if these were our last choices. To do the prix fixe or not do the prix fixe? To do the wine pairing or not do the wine pairing? We mixed and matched. We indulged.

We oohed and awwhed at the refined array of appetizers like the intensely savory French onion soup mussels, salty with bacon and briny with the sea. Or the decadent lobster gnudi that slid on the tongue like exotic silk and cream seeped with luxury, studded with sweet squash and crisp, bitter Brussels sprout leaves.

We wanted to taste every entrée offered, struggling to imagine each flavor and dish without proof. But we couldn’t. We wouldn’t. We made up our minds and clung to old favorites, specialties that we could not escape, nor did we want to. We plunged our forks deep into lemon scented spiraled strigoli pasta with plentiful seafood gem obstacles.  We reveled in the succulent scallops, using the sides of our forks cute our prizes and shift earthy bright green peas and clear corn to create tiny voluptuous bites.

We chatted and chuckled. We observed soon-to-be-married couples, exploring tasting menus and venue perks, and sipping pretty colored cocktails that danced in the mood lighting. And we devoured dessert, despite our satiety from our lounging dinner.  We noted the sweet, the spice, the cold, the warm.

We relished. We enjoyed. We slowed down and savored all of the morsels and washed down all the delicious memories with bubbling prosecco. We lived this meal.

This was our time.

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2.4.16

LONDON calling: The Pantechnicon Rooms

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This is just a wee bit more than your typical pub. So we had a wee bit more than your typical lunch at Pantechnicon. With a pitcher of summery Pimms on deck, it was a veritable feast in celebration of our arrival in London after many years away and old friends.

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The starters were mixed: some stronger than others, some memorable and some lost. Four miniscule Scottish scallops were surrounded by wisps of fennel and peas and dribbles of chorizo dressing. It had a little bit of everything from spicy fatty chorizo to sweet earthy peas and tender scallops, just not enough. Fried calamari came in a basket, crisp, hot and fresh with just enough cooling lime dressing and spicy chilli sauce. It was typical, familiar and tasty. The sharing plate trio was much less appealing— the short rib pastrami was dry and burnt, the pulled pork croquette was flavorless, and the pork ribs were dull.

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What possessed me to get a salad is beyond me. Maybe it was that crispy duck egg that hypnotized me. Sometimes salads are your favorite, but this “salad” was missing what makes a salad. The base of the “salad” was a thick bed of chewy, stiff, dark wild rice, which was mostly inedible in my book. The crispy duck egg, figs, zucchini and almonds, however, were tasty on their own. There was so much crunch from the egg and a creaminess from its soft yolky center that added richness to the merlot dressing and summery ingredients. Good thing my friend and sister are much lighter eaters than I am.

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Both mains were hearty, not extremely creative nor memorable, but solid and satiating. The flanks of pork rib eye were tender and juicy, topped with a chunky apple chutney to complete the classic pair. The sweetness of the round sweet potato contrasted the earthy mushy peas, highlighting the salt of the meat and long crunchy chicarron. Even the spicy baby chicken was well executed but just chicken with a fat scoop of mashed potatoes. The bone marrow and Madeira jus and mushroom sauces added oomph but were unnecessary in the end.

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Yes, lunch was necessary and nourishing, but it was just a backdrop for memories, laughter, catching up and the essential Pimms. It was more than just a meal; it was the start of a great trip with great friends.

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everything has its reason: the FINCH

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Stepping into The Finch is kind of like walking into your own kitchen, only it’s cooler. The lines are cleaner, the painted white brick is brighter—it’s just better.

And then passing the very open bar and the even more open kitchen, you step through a doorway, and you are transported to somewhere else. Wherever it is, it’s just as cool, just not as clean. This dining room has a formula, just as the front space does, it’s just not the same equation. Its exposed brick brings Brooklyn in and the classic furniture ties it to the front.

You sit down, and you want to explore. Your eyes wander, catching the mortar between the bricks, the different textures on display, the changing light coming in, and the many shades of green of plants. It’s intimate back here too, but it feels airy and open, almost outdoors.

The different spaces echo the streamlined menu and beautiful dishes; it’s apparent each is created, tested and perfected, but here too, there’s a formula. Everything’s there for a reason, even if you don’t want to believe it—like that unfinished back wall. Ingredients seem a little haphazard and unconnected at first, but you want to try everything, you want to see how it all works out.

And somehow, it does.

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Your appetizer is split gracefully into two large shallow dishes, one for each of you. Its arrangement is artful, crafted like sculpture, elements hidden and exposed. The sweet beets are roasted and red, soft and perfect, while the toasted traviso is bitter and smoky, cooled by creamy salted burrata. A savory brittle made with pine nuts crunches and plays to the sweet strengths of the beets and the mature savory moments of the traviso, while all unites with the mild and sensuous cheese. 

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Pork two ways makes for a whimsical dish, imaginative and sensible, hearty and delicate. A crunchy pork croquette, perfect and stringy, rests on a bed of soft cabbage and sunchokes studded with large pearls of mustard seeds. Every element melds to combat the delicious fattiness of the fried item, while a smooth apple puree marries pink centered slices of pork. There is no redundancy and yet a brilliant continuity is achieved.

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Your scallop entrée is a sexy surf and turf, bringing together sea and land seamlessly. The dish is a texture playground, where multiple feelings are playing tug of war. Stalemate. The soft, succulent scallops counter the rubbery, meaty snails that, too, have its own tenderness. There is heat and wonder written in slinky slender mushrooms and kernels of chewy Einkorn. Green things and grains bring in earthy tones and brilliant color, but you can swim in the richness and the decadence without getting lost…

Each bite and memory is meticulously constructed, precise and crafted, but also delectable and indulgent. You almost forget where you are and that your kitchen is nowhere as cool.

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4.9.15

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