Docsconz- The Blog

Twenty-One

Our eldest son just turned twenty one. When he was still a toddler, my wife and I bought a case of Chateau Lafite Rothschild  1989 to put away for this occasion. It is now officially his. Last night for dinner at home to celebrate that birthday, he opened his first bottle.

...made the first pour... 

and had the first sip...

...before decanting it and drinking it with his birthday meal.

The wine was magnificent. Still young, dark and purple, it opened up with power and force, holding a lot of complexity and finesse within, promise for future special occasions.

Happy 21st, L.J.!

May you have many, many more healthy and happy ones!

Dining at Mikla

 

It has been some time since I dined at Mikla, chef Mehmet Gurs’ penthouse restaurant in Istanbul, but the flavors from the night are still fresh in my mind. The meal was a fitting end to a spectacular foray into Turkey; much like the days I spent there; each dish was rich with Mediterranean flavor.

Before I delve into the meal itself, I would like to thank Chef Gurs for accommodating my seven-person group so handily and on such short notice. It was only two weeks before our dinner that the group even decided to travel to Istanbul, so Chef Gurs’ swift generosity in offering a table at which I could celebrate my dad’s birthday from afar must not go unnoticed. We were not an easy group to host, either. Out of the seven of us, only three had the desire to budget for a tasting menu, which made the timing quite difficult, and regrettably unsatisfactory for some.

Although I was assured that everything would be taken care of (it was), I was given a scare when I arrived at the reception to find a reservation for “Johns Gonzo –Party of Two”, written in by the chef himself. Naturally, I assumed that this was meant for me, and that it was incorrect, which caused a bit of difficulty. It was not until a few minutes later when the chef’s very capable manager, Ms. Sabiha Apaydin, found the reservation in my name, two spots underneath Mr. Gonzo’s. I was immediately relieved, and was able to enjoy my evening from that point on.

We spent our first hour at the restaurant’s bar, half of which is an open terrace at what feels like the top of the world, where we drank the sunset along with our Turkish wine. After the sun was down and the city illuminated, we moved to our table at the other side of the restaurant to begin.

The meal began with an amuse of chilled pea soup with the slightest hint of mint – a promising beginning.. The soup hit just the right spot after a hot day in the Turkish sun, and refreshed my palate before I even knew it was necessary. I played a game with the globules of olive oil that dotted the surface as I alternated between spoonfuls of soup laced with olive oil and without. Following the soup was a Carpaccio of North Aegean grouper with Kalamata olives, lemon and dill. Both as a follow-up to the chilled pea soup and simply on its own, the dish was magnificent. Thin slices of grouper were laid out neatly on the plate, with olives and herbs distributed pleasantly along the fish’s surface which made for an exciting time in scooping up all the little bits of flavor. The dish seemed to be the pure essence of the Mediterranean, although I would hardly have pegged it as Turkish. Misconceptions can be funny like that.

The next dish did not play the same tune as the previous two, and instead of light and airy the dried beef with Turkish cheese (that bears resemblance to Parmesan Reggiano) struck a decidedly heavier chord. A hint of nutmeg lined the periphery of the tousled beef while the cheese accented the plate’s hearty attitude. Simply marvelous. The meal seemed to alternate themes from this point forward and pleasantly contrasted my expectations. From the beef and cheese course we were taken back to the Turkish countryside with a plate of goat cheese and fig, accented with a special Turkish preparation of honey, truffles and arugula. My mouth is watering at the thought of succulent fig and honey juxtaposed against the dryness of the goat cheese and arugula.

While the previous courses evoked thoughts of Tuscany, it wasn’t until the next course that it became clear that Mikla is a Turkish restaurant, first and foremost. The cherry wood smoked lamb loin with a walnut pistou and pinto bean puree precisely satisfied my preconceptions of gourmet Turkish cuisine. The walnuts complemented the nuttiness of the rare protein, and as such the three of us doing the tasting were absolutely floored.

The next course saw a return to the sea, and featured grilled grouper, anchovy and olive oil-poached artichoke. Its artful presentation added to the course, with splashes of color provided by tufts of asparagus, zucchini and a fantastically flavorful red/green olive puree around the uniform tones in the center of the plate. This is fish done right.

The final savory course was a beef cheek and vegetable “pot au feu” with some more pea soup serving as a sauce if one so desires. I did, and so consumed my simultaneously light and substantial entrée with gusto. The light mint of the soup wonderfully lifted the darker flavors of the beef cheek into a very successful balance. Although each seafood dish performed wonderfully on its own, it was the clearly the turf that took dinner to another level.

We finished up with four phenomenally prepared desserts, each one as good as the last. Starting off was the “Bergama Tulum” (Turkish cheese) with a fig confit and walnut puree. The richness of the nuts and cheese paired well with the sweet confit and the resulting plate felt distinctively Turkish, much like the lamb. Following that was the vanilla panna cotta with a wild lavender flower preserve. Although the preserve was very sweet, when taken in moderation with the panna cotta it made for a wonderfully creamy and delicious dessert.

The final two courses seemed to depart somewhat from the Mediterranean theme, with a warm raspberry soup and vanilla ice cream, as well as the “Truffled Truffle”. The raspberry course was reminiscent of a deconstructed pie, and the inclusion of the vanilla ice cream made it seem vaguely American. That isn’t to say it was bad, it was in fact far from it, but it was certainly unexpected. The small truffle was served under a glass dome on top of its plating, which intrigued me greatly. Inside of the chocolate exterior was a creamy concoction of cognac, truffle, and more chocolate, which absolutely blew me away as I finished out the meal.

Altogether, I was thoroughly impressed by Mikla. Mehmet Gurs’s operation on top of the city gets my wholehearted recommendation for the smoothness of its operation, its friendly service and particularly the incredible quality of its food. I’m sure that he has developed some new dishes over the four months since I’ve been there that I would love to get out and try. It’s just too bad I won’t be able to travel abroad again for a very long time.

A Dinner at noma - the Snacks

 

Having spent a good part of the day visiting noma and getting a behind-the-scenes look at its operations, Chef Scott Boswell and I made it back through the cold Copenhagen rain to relax a little and change before we returned for dinner at 6:30PM. Our wives and my son spent the day sightseeing in the city and on this night would have dinner at Kodbyens Fiskebaren, a seafood oriented restaurant not too far from our hotel. As they would be dining with us at noma the next day for lunch, neither Scott nor I felt too guilty about doing this noma day on our own, especially as Fiskebaren was another restaurant we also wanted to get to. We had to settle this time for a vicarious experience from there.

That Scott and I would be doing both dinner and lunch at noma was a direct inspiration taken from this post by the esteemed Food Snob, a man whose dining experience leaves us in awe. While we were not to follow the exact format of Food Snob's noma marathon, we did keep to the spirit of it. Our dinner was to be taken from the current noma menu, including some brand new dishes. The lunch would be comprised of dishes from over the last three years or so. The snacks were to be the same in each meal and representative of the current menu. This post will focus on the snacks with subsequent posts focusing on the principle plates from each meal.

 

By the time the early evening rolled around, the rain had stopped and the weather had become pleasant. While not clear, the sky was reasonably bright, which was fortunate as we were seated comfortably at a table next to a window with plenty of space to set up my camera. Once we sat down, our dinner started promptly with a glass of crisp, non-vintage brut nature Champagne from André Beaufort and the start of the snacks. These proceded to follow one another with a fairly rapid, but not too rapid pace. We were allowed to enjoy each one, but did not have to wait long for the next delight to follow.

 

The first snack, Nasturtiums and Snails, were already on the table, comprising a significant part of the floral arrangement. The snail, from Sweden, was embedded in the flower along with some remoulade. Taking the wild foraged nasturtium straight from the centerpiece, we ate it in one bite as instructed. It was a wonderfully clever, whimsical and tasty way to begin this adventure of a meal. 

What initially piqued my interest in noma several years ago, were the descriptions of a chef using ingredients from an area not particularly known for its native cuisine in fascinating new ways, creating a new Nordic culinary style. The nasturtium and the snail as well as the rest of the meal followed that path. 

 

Sea Buckthorn Leather and Pickled Hip Roses quickly followed the first snack. This bite was colorful and tasty, sea buckthorn being an ingredient new to me, but reminding me of tutti-frutti chewing gum - in a good way! It was sweet and acidic and combined with the pickled rose petals, pleasantly floral.Rose can be an overpowering flavor, but this one carried just the right nuance. The texture was slightly chewy, but not persistently or annoyingly so. The combination wasn't just a happy accident. Both the sea buckthorn (a berry) and the hip roses grow by each other on the Nordic coast. As the cook who brought them said, "they know each other." The bite left a smile on my lips.

 

Fried Leek and garlic also brought smiles to our lips. A leek was brought for each of us. The root end had been dipped in a batter and fried and was served with a bit of garlic puree on the batter-fried roots. We were instructed to pick it up and take a small bite, not too far up the leek, as only the lower part was cooked. The combination of sweet cooked leek and crisp roots along with the flavor of the garlic worked nicely.

 

Earlier in the day, as Chef Redzepi was showing us around the workings of the restaurant, he received a shipment from a day-boat fisherman containing live fjord shrimp. He tasted one then and there to assess it's quality. When I asked if I could try one like that, he promised that I would - at dinner. That time had now come. Several of the small, live shrimp were brought out anesthetized on ice in a mason jar. They were to be picked up and dipped in a brown butter emulsion before being dropped whole in the mouth. The sensation of eating a live, wriggling shrimp was an odd one, as tasty as it was. While I had no compunction about it and quite enjoyed it, the next day, at lunch, my young gastronomically inclined son did not have as easy a time with it. He did eventually pop it into his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to chew it and swallowed it whole, thereby missing its fine and delicate flavor.

 

Next out was a savory cookie made with salt instead of sugar. It was served with a slice of "speck," which was described as Danish cured pork fat. It was topped with a black currant paste and a sprig of pine. The presentation of this snack was special. They were brought out in a cookie tin with each cookie sitting in its own little wrapper. A nice little touch though was the presence of empty wrappers in the container, providing a feeling that the cookies were a shared treat of hospitality, which in fact they were, albeit in a restaurant setting. This was also our first experience with pine during the trip, something that would pop up again, both at noma and elsewhere during our Scandinavian odyssey. Pine appears, largely due to Redzepi's influence, to be the "it" ingredient of the moment in Scandinavia.

 

Not all of the snacks were new to the menu, even though all were current to it. Our next snack was one that was described as a noma "classic" although the filling changes seasonally. It consisted of a template of crispy rye bread on top and crispy chicken skin on the bottom. The filling served to us consisted of Rygeost, a fresh danish smoked cheese that was blended with lovage leaves and yellow split peas. It was delicate and light, a lovely bite!

 

My son's favorite snack when he came to noma in March was the pickled and smoked quail egg. The eggs were brought out in an egg-shaped box that was opened at the table to reveal an egg for each of us sitting upon some lightly smoking hay. It had also been lightly smoked with apple wood and pickled in apple vinegar from the orchard of noma co-owner Claus Meyer. Popping the soft egg in my mouth in one bite and eating it was a delight as it contained a wonderful balance of flavor to go with its soft and gooey texture. I had never had an egg like it before.

 

I had tried the next dish before when Redzepi and his crew came to New York in June and cooked at Corton. The radish and carrot with soil and herbs was better for me this time, as I had a better understanding of how to eat the dish, scooping up the yogurt base and crumbly roasted malt "dirt" with the root vegetables,ensuring a more even distribution of flavor and textural contrasts.

 

Conceptually similar to the rye bread/chicken skin cookie, the next snack was a "sandwich" of sorts. This one consisted of a base of wavy crisp bread with dots of a cod roe emulsion placed on top of it and with various herbs placed on top of them. This was then dusted with a vinegar powder and the whole thing was covered with a "crispy duck stock" made from the natural film that forms atop a duck stock. The film was skimmed off, then dried. Though difficult to eat gracefully, this take-off on the traditional Danish open-faced sandwiches called smørrebrød was a quite unusual and quite extraordinary bite.

 

I saw Chef Redzepi make aebleskiver, Danish pancakes, in Madrid in 2008 when he presented at Madrid Fusión. These savory lard-fried pancakes contained cucumber, vinegar powder (vinegars are used to provide acidity to dishes in lieu of citrus, which is used more commonly in southern Europe)and a preserved sardine-like freshwater fish from Finland called muikko, which appeared to be swimming directly through the pancake.

Redzepi has plenty of experience working and learning outside of Copenhagen, including at elBulli for the 1999 season. His use of "snacks" to open the meal bears the stamp of the Adrias' influence, but while Redzepi owes a debt to that experience, he has forged his own identity.Like the snacks at elBulli, this part of the meal  was fast, but appropriately paced,  as the various snacks were generally one or two bite morsels.While all were delicious, they also were fun and playful.  Other than the format and the sense of playfulness, noma's snacks bear little resemblance to those served at the Catalan cove as those from the Adria's had a tendency to represent Mediterranean or other world culinary influences, while Redzepi's focused directly on Scandinavia. Regardless of influence, the snacks made for a marvelous introduction for what was yet to come.

noma at Corton: Redzepi Meets Liebrandt

We arrived at Corton for our 9:30PM reservation to find a festive atmosphere. When Mario Batali arises from his seat at the next table to pull out the chair for one of my dining partners and intones, "Welcome to Corton," you know it is bound to be a wonderful evening! Indeed, scanning the room to see Drew Nieporent (of course), Jeffrey Steingarten, Daniel Humm, Anya Von Bremzen, Christina Tosi, Jon Bignelli (WD-50 Chef de Cuisine), Batali and others, I was awed by the company we were in. But then scanning my own table, I was awed by the company I had there. Along with my wife and two eldest sons, I was joined by Alex Talbot and Linda Anctil, two good friends of mine and a couple of the absolute finest bloggers and culinarians out there. It was a social crowd too, as people took the time to chat from table to table as well as amongst themselves. It turned out that I was sitting directly behind one of the world's great bon vivant's, the admirable FoodSnob, to whom I was introduced by none other than Rene Redzepi himself.Food Snob had come from London for this dinner and was sitting with a number of gentlemen who had traveled even further - from Australia. His account of two recent meals at noma is amongst the most salivatory meal accounts I've ever read. The fun and revelry continued as I got to meet and taste some of the personal wines of the generous Eddie Milstein. Adding to the scheduled wines of the evening, I got to enjoy 1981, 1985 and 1989 Krug Champagnes in addition to the wines served with the meal.

 

While the camaraderie was fun and helped make the evening even more special, the center of the evening remained the food. While my son, L.J. had eaten at noma, none of the rest of us at the table had. We all had high expectations. Often that can be a signal for a let down. Fortunately, on this evening it was not.

 

The meal opened with terracotta pot with Cru de Te's, Small vegetables," a new noma classic. The dish consisted of a whole radish "planted" in herbed yogurt with crunchy "dirt" that was comprised of roasted malt. This was a clever, fun and tasty start to the evening. It was paired a "Blanc Souverain Champagne from Henriot (NV). Had I not just been spoiled by the Krugs, this would have been a very attractive champagne.

A sensible conceit was that the plates were served by staff from the restaurant of origin. Redzepi's dishes were served by his staff and Liebrandt's by the Corton staff. Not only were the respective staff members better able to present the dishes, the practice also provided a clue to the dish's creator, which may not have been otherwise evident to the uninitiated, such as my son Andrew, who had previously never been to either noma or Corton. For those who had been to either, the styles and ingredients were give-aways as the the styles of the chefs are distinct. While they may be different in terms of how and what they put on the plate, Redzepi's and Liebrandt's cooking is not at all uncomplimentary to each other.

 

The next dish, Tar-tar of Beef and Wood Sorrel, was distinctly unlike anything I have ever eaten in a fine dining restaurant. Other than the unusual request that we scoop up the beef and sorrel with our fingers and mix it with the green sauce and ground juniper, the flavor profile highlighted a deliriously wonderful sour element from the sorrel and yogurt based sauce. This element of sour was much stronger in Redzepi's food than I have encountered anywhere else so far in fine dining, but while present and strong it wasn't overpowering or off-putting. I loved it. It was well balanced with the rich beef and the forest-evoking elements of the juniper and wood greens. While the radish was clever and tasty, this was brilliant in its sheer power, taste and audaciousness. The dish was well-paired with Domaine Weinbach Sylvaner 2008 from the Alsace, which also carried over to the next course.

Continuing with some wonderfully muted sour notes, this dish, Cooked Grains and Watercress, Dried Scallops, was also a textural tour-de-force.  The scallops had been sliced razor thin and slowly dried, maintaining their inherent sweetness. Combined with the hardy texture and depth of flavor of the grains and the spicy sharpness of the watercress, this was another sensational offering from this spring's noma menu.

Corton's waitstaff brought the next plate, Foie Gras, Cherries, Fresh Chamomile.  Paul Liebrandt has made his foie gras encased in beetroot gelee into a signature dish and a very worthy one. It has been fun to watch (and taste) its evolution since I first saw it at the initial Starchef's ICC in 2006. Its most recent iteration has been as a sort of culinary trompe l'oiel, playing off bing cherries. It's a dish that works very well, especially when the cherries are the quality of those on the plate, which came from Frog Hollow Farm in California. The addition of chamomile in the cherries to the dish's palette made for a brilliant twist to the the sweet cherries, while the slightly acidic apple orb in the center of the plate provided a tart counterpoint. The course came with a side plate of brioche with morel butter. My son, L.J., found the dish to be perhaps the best he had ever had.

The next course was the last savory course from Redzepi. The Slow Roasted carrot with Sorrel Stems and Truffle Sauce used a rare heirloom Scandinavian "blue" carrot. Much like the parsnip, I had earlier this year at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, a typically humble root vegetable was elevated to something truly special. While difficult to photograph, the dish was not at all difficult to eat - rich, savory, green and ultimately sublime. It paired nicely with a deep, bitter Mikkeller India Pale Ale "Cascade Single Hop" from Denmark/Belgium, a unique microbrew using European technique and Washington State hops brought by the noma crew for this purpose.

 

Liebrandt was not going to be outdone. He served the principle protein of the evening, Elysian Fields Farm Lamb, Yogurt Gnocchi, Spiced Mole that also came with a lime foam and a side plate of a hot sweetbread served with arugula and a "Mint Ice." a disc of frozen peppermint cream, that melted atop the sweetbread. The lamb was extraordinary. It had a bone marrow cap on it. Shown to us at the table prior to portioning, the lamb was tender and deeply flavorful. The molé added a little bite, while the yogurt gnocchi added a diverse flavor element while also cooling the palate.

Redzepi's dessert, Dried Berries and Walnut also contained an ice cream. Sweet, but not too sweet, the walnut flavor was in perfect harmony with its surroundings. Not ordinarily a nut favored by me, this dessert shone it in a new and stunning light.

 

Robert Truitt's Gold Bar with chocolate, Pedro Jimenez and smoked caramel ice cream completed the menu. Truitt is one of the most talented pastry chefs out there and this delicious and beautiful dessert showed it.

 

Another piece of evidence of Truitt's outstanding pastry talent is the amazing petit-fours that come from the Corton kitchen including the gelees, macarons and chocolate bon-bons. I had to taste each despite being quite full.  The most amazing ones though (and I don't know if these were from noma or Corton) were "marrow" bones filled with smoked caramel. The bones were quite real, but the caramels were unreal - heavy smoked balanced the sweetness beautifully. These were a revelation and a fantastic way to finish a fantastic evening.

Corton has been one of my favorite restaurants anywhere since I first dined there shortly after it first opened. It has provided me with some of the finest meals I've had over the past few years. This was no different. While my interest in dining at noma was high before, it is raging now. I can't wait to get there!

ed. note: Corton's usual no photos policy was waived for this event. Even Drew Nieporent was walking around with a small hand-held video camera!

Ferdinando's Fabulous Focacceria

 

Ferdinando's Focacceria has seemingly been around forever. While it has existed since well before I was born, it has  been in its current site on Union Street in Brooklyn only since 1904. I grew up with the place and its classic street food directly from Palermo and I am more than happy to say that while the neighborhood has changed considerably, the food at Ferdinando's hasn't. It is still wonderful and more unique in NYC than ever.

 

Visiting the area with my son, L.J., to attend the Omnivore events at The Invisible Dog on Bergen Street between Smith and Court, we slipped over to Ferdinando's late this past Friday afternoon for a quick snack. The decor is not a retro throwback from an earlier era - it is the earlier era, harkening to the neighborhood's 20th century mostly Italian-American roots. There is nothing fancy about it, but it is honest. Indeed, while we were there, there were a couple of older men from the neighborhood, sitting, eating and speaking Italian dialect to each other.

 

The temptation to get more than a snack was great, but we stuck to our guns and shared a panelle special sandwich and a huge arrancino. The panelle special sandwich from Ferdinando's is pure comfort food to me. Fresh, crisp fried panelle (flat chick-pea flour fritters) are bedded on a hot, crisp sesame roll and covered in fresh ricotta and shaved cacciocavallo cheese. The blend of textures, flavors and temperatures makes for an incomparably delicious sandwich.

 

The arrancino (rice ball) made from risotto Milanese rice balled around chopped meat ragu and fried to a crisp golden brown is preternaturally large. How these don't fall apart in the process of cooking is a small miracle, but they most certainly do not.

 

 We were tempted to eat more, but we had dinner plans with friends, so we grudgingly refrained. I hope Ferdinando's will be there forever. It deserves to be.

 

Turkish Pistachios

My son, L.J., just returned from  an extended trip studying Geography at Charles University in Prague.  During his nearly three months there he seized the opportunity to travel and explore as much as he could. One of the more fascinating places he visited was Istanbul, a city he absolutely loved. Though he did not bring me a t-shirt, he managed to bring something a bit better - Turkish pistachios. These pistachios are different than any I have ever had before. They are smaller, very flavorful and quite buttery on the finish. I'm not sure that I can say that I prefer them to some of the best pistachios I have ever eaten, such as those from Bronte in Sicily, but I can't really say the reverse either. It never fails to fascinate me, how one thing can be so different when it comes from different places. While terroir is certainly a hallmark of great wines, it is less commonly considered in other areas, but it is no less profound. It is diversity like this within a species as much as diversity between species that help keeps life interesting

Blog Finds: Czech Us Out & Spring in Prague

I have been following Czech Us Out and Spring in Prague since their inceptions earlier this spring. Both blogs are team written. Each one has two young female Dartmouth College students as their principle authors and photographers and each is chronicling the same basic experience - a Dartmouth College Geography Foreign Study Program based at Charles University in Prague in the Czech Republic. Each reflects very well the viewpoints of its authors and each is worth reading. Though my initial reason for following these blogs was very personal  as my son, L.J., is partaking of the very same program (In fact, he has just posted a guest piece on the Czech Us Out blog chronicling the last day of a short side trip to Istanbul - expect more here from L.J. when he gets the chance to detail some of his culinary experiences in Istanbul, especially a visit to the acclaimed restaurant Mikla), I have come to really enjoy each as they are both well written with good photography and provide an interesting and entertaining view of a part of the world previously relatively unfamiliar to me. The program ends at the end of this month, but I hope they all continue to blog! Should you read the blogs, I think you will hope so too!

Dining at noma

Before I begin, I would like to introduce myself. I am the eldest of DocSconz’s oft-mentioned sons, and have learned to harbor a great appreciation for good food as a result of my upbringing. At school in Hanover, New Hampshire, my options are often limited, particularly for a student with a small budget. The occasional meal at Carpenter & Main (briefly mentioned here: http://docsconz.typepad.com/docsconz_the_blog/2009/04/index.html) serves as a welcome respite from the repetitive dining halls and ill-equipped kitchens, but its prices prevent more than the occasional visit.

            My boring diet was one reason why I decided to apply for one of Dartmouth’s vaunted Foreign Study Programs, the Geography study abroad in Prague. Although the ability to experience traditional Czech cuisine was appealing, I was more excited by the opportunity it would present me to do some traveling and dining before classes began. I first met Chef René Redzepi at a cocktail reception during the 2008 Star Chefs Conference in New York, where my father introduced him to me as one of the best chefs in the world. At the time, I was just learning that a revolutionary culinary scene was emerging in Scandinavia, but I still had some difficulty accepting that such a thing could occur in the region that counts lutefisk among its most popular dishes. Still, my curiosity was piqued, so when I made my plans for my pre-study travel, I made sure to reserve a table at noma for my travel-buddy Austin and I. My dad, unable to travel to Copenhagen on such short notice, would live vicariously through me.

            As it turned out, my travel schedule permitted me only that one night in Copenhagen, so in effect Austin and I were traveling there exclusively to dine at noma. I’m glad we made the trip. Although some deception by Google Maps caused us to take a while to actually find the restaurant, we managed to allow ourselves enough time to arrive early. noma is beautifully situated at the far corner of the North Atlantic House, a site dedicated to the preservation of North Atlantic culture. Its other two sides are surrounded by harbor, making for a wonderful view of downtown as twilight sets in.

            When we entered, we found that we were among the only diners there, but others soon began to fill in the empty tables. One thing that I noticed over the course of the night was that noma would only fill a table once a night. I think that this approach makes sense, especially in the context of a restaurant that focuses on tasting menus. It would simply be a mistake to rush dishes from the kitchen and people out the door to make room for new customers – like any great restaurant, Chef Redzepi and the staff at noma recognize that good pacing is key to a good meal, and as it turns out, the pacing was flawless. Austin and I were brought a new morsel of food almost every twenty minutes, giving us ample time to savor our new course, but not enough time for us to grow restless while waiting for more.

At this point, I would like to offer my apologies for the lack of gastro-photography – we had a camera, but it was merely a point-and-shoot. Its photographs do not do justice to the beauty of each dish.

As we got comfortable at the table, the friendly and knowledgeable sommelier asked us if we would like anything to drink before we got started. Austin and I were baffled – should we go for the homemade fruit or vegetable juices, or maybe a flute of champagne? We ended up with neither. I hate to reinforce the stereotype of the beer-drinking student, but Austin and I couldn’t help but opt for the fresh, home-recipe Pilsner-style beer from noma’s own brewery outside of the city. The beer was served in a wine glass, and were it not for the foam head I could have mistaken it for a glass of white. Upon reflection, the flavors of the beer foreshadowed the style of the meal that we were about to enjoy – it was crisp, refreshing, and pleasantly aromatic.

            While I am on the topic of drinks, I suppose now would be a good time to briefly delve into our pairing dilemma. While I would have liked to opt for the full pairing to go with the twelve-course tasting menu, our budgets forced us to restrain ourselves a bit, so I asked the sommelier if he might be able to set up some pairings so that we could come as close to experiencing the best of the tasting menu as possible, while not breaking the bank. I have to commend the man because he did a marvelous job, almost on the fly. The seafood-heavy menu called for a majority of whites throughout, with the exception of a red to pair with two turf courses toward the end. Surprisingly, one of my favorite pairings was a glass of exceptionally flavorful carrot juice, which was served with two earthy dishes in the middle of the meal.

            It has now come time to get to the main event, the food. Our meal began with a series of seven “snacks”, which lived up to their name quite well. These were not included on the tasting menu, but it appeared as though other tables were getting a similar treatment. The concept behind noma’s snacks is that they are bite-size pieces that stand on their own, and that the diner is supposed to eat with his hands. Some of our favorite tastes were served as snacks, and Austin and I reached a consensus that the pickled and smoked quail egg was our favorite snack of the bunch. It was served without its shell and prepared so that the white functioned as the solid outer section and the yolk exploded into an incredibly rich and buttery sensation as I popped it in my mouth. To reference my childhood, it felt like a tiny Jell-O Easter Egg in my hand, and it blew up like a Gusher fruit-snack as I bit down on it.

            The other snacks were all phenomenal, but none of them stood out from the rest like the quail egg did. In addition to the egg, we were treated to snacks like a Speck-flavored cookie on top of an elderberry one, home-grown radishes served in a pot, with edible malt soil and yogurt, and a veritable garden placed on top of home-baked crisps. Along with the snacks, we were served some of the crustiest yet tender bread that I’ve ever eaten. It was made with special Danish wheat, and had a nice, hearty flavor. We were given rendered pork fat with bacon salt and some rich butter to spread. It’s not surprising that they take their bread seriously. Unfortunately, time has taken my memory of some of the other snacks and their ingredients, though if I think hard enough I can still taste them.

            Although the snacks were delicious, they were not substantial. With impeccable timing, the noma staff brought us the first course of the “real” menu just as Austin and I devoured the rest of the bread. Entitled “Razor Clam and Parsley, Dill and Mussel Juice”, the dish highlighted each of its ingredients in different ways. The clam was served raw, encased in a parsley gel with yogurt powder lined up next to it. In the bowl was a small pool of mussel juice, with dill oil forming little droplets in the juice. The eating got messy, but the clam was supremely tender – this course was a phenomenal start to the meal, and its clean flavors refreshed the palate nicely. It set the stage for the plates to come.

Next up was the “Beetroots and Sorrel, with Malt Flat Bread.” It served as an earthy contrast to the fresh, almost green-tasting plate that we were served before. The texture was also a nice contrast to the fresh clam.

            Upon tasting the following dish, I was able to tell almost immediately that it would be my favorite of the night, although I wouldn’t have known it by looking at the menu. Unlike my father, I’ve never been a huge fan of uni – despite trying it multiple times, there’s usually something about the texture that bugs me. So when the “Sea Urchin and Grilled Cucumber, Dill and Cream” was served, the brilliant green and yellow-orange hues were appealing, but the knowledge of what was on the plate was not. That all changed once I took my first bite; the sweetness and crunch of the grilled cucumber was married with the rich uni flavor, while reducing the intensity of its texture. The dill complemented this almost-perfect union quite nicely, and the cream served to enhance the smooth flavor of the entire course. I was absolutely wowed by this course, in a way that was not quite replicated again through the meal. The following courses were fantastic, but I think the dish’s refusal to play to my expectations enhanced my experience two-fold.

            Indeed, the cucumber and uni dish is a tough act to follow, which may be why the “Chestnuts and Bleak Roe, Walnuts and Cress Shoots” was one of my least favorite dishes. Keep in mind that this is all relative, but the water chestnuts seemed to dominate the course and it came off as rather bland in comparison to the previous dish. Perhaps contrast was the point, but it was not so memorable as some other plates I enjoyed.

Following the chestnut dish was one of the most fun dishes Austin and I enjoyed, the  “Langoustine and Söl, Parsley and Seawater”. In its preparation, the langoustine was placed clean on a scorching-hot rock, so when it was brought out only one side had been cooked. It was up to us to roll it over and dip it in the spots of parsley flavor that dotted the remaining landscape of the rock, thereby cooking and flavoring it further. This dish was quite unforgettable, and the memory of the experience has preserved the flavor in my head for later enjoyment.

            The “Salsify and Truffle from Gotland, Milk Skin and Rape Seed Oil” was an interesting addition to the lineup. The menu had previously been following a pattern of alternating seafood and earthy dishes, and this plate did not disrupt it. The salsify did a better job of contrasting the langoustine than the chestnuts did for the sea urchin, so I think that lead to my greater enjoyment of this dish – it felt very clean in the mouth, and the texture of the milk skin was quite unlike anything I’ve consumed before. It complemented the texture of salsify and the sauce, making for a very delicious and texturally interesting combination.

The next dish, “Vintage Potato and Whey, Lovage and Prästost” disrupted the aforementioned pattern, but it was delectable all the same. The tiny potatoes were bursting with pure, unpretentious potato flavor, and the greens and cream in the dish worked well to elicit a feeling of eating straight from the farm. I could taste the care that went into growing and preparing this dish, so that it made it my favorite earth-based dish till now.

            At this point, we began to enter into the heart of the menu, signaled by the arrival of “King Crab and Mussels, Leeks and Ashes”. This, too, married disparate elements and was served with minimalism in mind - it was served as two pairs of rolls, alternating on the plate, surrounded by mussel foam and flakes. One roll was leek rolled in ash, and the other a piece of king crab. It looked and tasted simple, but the flavors were clear. I consider crab to be my favorite crustacean, so the elementary presentation and flavor only enhanced experience. Although the implementation of ash was surprising, its perfect execution was not, and it made what would have otherwise been a good dish great.

After the crab came the “Pickled Vegetables and Bone Marrow, Herbs and Bouillon,” which I think was my favorite rustic dish. I’m not sure Austin knew what to expect with the bone marrow, but after scooping marrow straight from the bone at the Boston tapas bar, Toro (discussed here:  http://docsconz.typepad.com/docsconz_the_blog/2009/05/toro-tasty-tapas-in-boston.html), I knew that I was in for a treat. The acidity of the pickled vegetables foiled the creamy marrow quite nicely, and altogether made for an incredibly delicious package. It was simultaneously rich and acidic, and to be honest, just writing about it is making my mouth water.

            The peak of the tasting menu manifested itself in the form of “Ox Cheek and Endive, Pickled Pear and Verbena”. Its presentation was hardly so minimal as that of the crab and leek. The ox and endive was distributed around the plate in small pieces, each piece topped with a thin sheet of pickled pear and a verbena leaf. It was a fantastic end to the savory portion of the meal. The cheek was phenomenally tender, and the endive had a slight crispness to it. The pickled pear complemented the richness of the ox very well, and the endive served as a neutral balance between the two. Despite its powerful flavors, this dish managed to strike a wonderful balance.

            The dessert portions began with a full-on carrot dish, the “Carrots, Buttermilk and Anis”. Slices of differently prepared carrots, some pickled, some roasted, were arranged around a central globe of buttermilk, which in turn housed carrot ice cream. A bite of all three preparations together with the buttermilk set off an explosion on my taste buds, as the sublime sweetness of the ice cream set itself against the creamy-yet-sour buttermilk, while the pickled and roasted carrots each added hints of their respective preparations to the mix. Aside from carrot cake, I’ve never had a carrot dessert, nor do I expect to desire one again – I am perfectly content with remembering this dish as a substitute.

            Afterwards came “The Snowman from Jukkasjärvi, Cloudberries and Wild Thyme.” The snowman was composed of three separate flavors – his head was a small scoop of ice cream, his torso was cloudberry sorbet, and his bottom portion was a large piece of sour meringue. He was placed on a “snow-covered” plate, which was actually cloudberry jam with more of the yogurt powder from the mussel dish. Taken altogether, the dish was at once sweet, sour and savory – much like the dish before, except with a fruity tang. Indeed, both dishes carried with them obvious connotations of the North – the buttermilk orb looked like a snowball, and the Snowman was set in a winter wonderland. It was the fruity tang, then, that made all the difference.

            Our second to last course was actually a savory one, and illustrates a case in which the defiance of expectations does not necessarily have a better outcome. Austin and I were expecting another complex and sweet dessert, and although what we got was complex, it was rather far from sweet. The “Jerusalem Artichoke and Marjoram, Apple and Malt” seemed to be pretty heavily dominated by the artichoke’s flavor, which was a bit of a disappointment to us. I do not mean to say that it was a poor choice to put it on the dessert portion; in fact, it made me think more about my expectations for what a tasting menu should be, and what I expect it to be. It was almost a clever trick, and I appreciate the ingenuity that both the chef and staff had in placing that savory dish where they did in the menu. Overall, it enhanced the experience, although I did not appreciate it as much at the time.

            The final course of ours is a traditional Danish breakfast, if my memory serves correctly. Called “‘Øllebrød’ and Frothed Milk, Skyr and Toasted Rye Kernels”, the variety of textures and flavors led to a sweet end to an experience that I will savor forever. The Øllebrød was a sweet, warm, oatmeal textured component to the meal, which was complemented by a slightly acidic ice cream. The rye kernels lent a nice crunch and toasty flavor to the dish, which added some more complexity to what turned out to be my favorite dessert. Eating this as the final course really reinforced the authenticity of the meal, and sealed the legitimacy of Scandinavian cuisine into my frame of mind.

            To sum up the meal, it is clear to me that chef Redzepi had a lot of fun playing with contrasting flavors, both within dishes and among them. It seems to me that he deliberately ordered the menu to emphasize the contrasts between rich and light, and it seems that he has a fondness for sweet-and-sour flavors. I can’t fault him for that, as I do, too. As it is any time one goes out for dinner, the service is an important part of the experience; good service can make a forgettable meal memorable, and lazy service can make excellent food taste rotten. The service at noma was impeccable. It seemed as though a different staff member served us every new dish, and each one of them was eager to tell me about what I was going to eat, and how to eat it. The staff’s knowledge, congeniality and genuine enthusiasm served to make my night at noma even better than I could have imagined. They even managed to fit us into the small kitchen for an informative tour, too.

            Although I dined at and thoroughly enjoyed my meal at el Bulli about four years ago, I savored it under my parents’ careful gaze. At noma, a (perhaps false) sense of independence pervaded my stay, which magnified my entire experience – I suppose you could regard this as a coming-of-age tale. Now, instead of learning how to identify and appreciate complex flavors, I was consulted on wine and courses, and chef Redzepi even left me a note apologizing for his absence.

As for Austin, he had never been to an avant garde restaurant before. Now he can say he’s been to the best restaurant in the world. Based on my experience there, I can say that it is truly deserving of the title. Simply put, my adventure at noma was an experience that will stay with me for the rest of my life, and I strongly advise you to make the trek. You will not regret it.