Cuisine

Neighborhood

CUISINE: American (New), French, Fusion
NEIGHBORHOOD: Upper East Side

photo from nicknamemicket

I’m back from hiatus after a dinner at Café Boulud — because there’s nothing like some white tablecloths to get a girl in the mood…for food writing.

A word to our gentleman readers: do not take a girl here on a date.  Unless you are already retired, have taken to wearing sweater vests, and your lady friend has helmet hair and a Chanel purse that debuted in 1986, you will feel out of place.

A word to our foodie readers: If you like good food — the type where things come in towers and there are elaborate swirls of sauce spiraling outwards from a pristinely-plated dish — Boulud’s is where it’s at.  But you already knew that.

The meal started with a bottle of champagne (and an argument with the sommelier who seemed to think he knew more than I did. JK, he totally did and I let him make all the decisions) and a great table from which to view the aged clientele.  This isn’t really a normal, “what do you want for dinner tonight, honey?” joint — there was an anniversary in front of us, and some sort of business meeting going on to the left.  There were a lot of dark suits.  There were a lot of wrinkles. 

Anyways: the food.  It was good.  I like writing lists, so that’s how we’re gonna do this.

>The amuse bouche: One ricotta truffle fritter.  (An aside: truffles are the easiest way into my pants. Take notes.)  It was lightly fried.  Anything fried tastes good.  Something with truffles fried tastes better.  (A second aside: marketing idea; McDonald’s truffle fries.  Yes? Yes? Yes! Show me the money!!! [I’m in advertising.])

>The first course: Hamachi tuna.  I’ll be honest: this was a special, so it probably won’t be there when you go.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t taste good.  There was jalapeños on it.  I can’t really think of anything else to say.

>The main course: Striped Bass en Paupiette.  (Ready for a tangent?) I am so glad I took two years of French in college.  I went to NYU.  It costs a lot to go to NYU; about four-thousand dollars, per class, per semester.  I took it for two years, which means my French is valued at 16,000 dollars.  Am I fluent? NON JE NE SUIS PAS (that means no.)  BUT, I can order things with somewhat accurate pronunciation, which is incredibly valuable when you are trying to impress your waiter.  My parents would be thrilled to learn how I am putting my education to use.  Anyhow, the dish comes with pommes purée, which is another way of saying mashed potatoes.  There was a leek and truffle terrine, which is another way of saying Rachel likes truffles.  And there was sauce périgourdine, and I don’t know what that is.

[Miniature side note: my dining partner had the Boeuf A La Bordelaise —aka pretty meat — which was an exercise in food art, and arrives beautifully plated: braised short rib, seared entrecôte, parsnip puree and sauce bordelaise.]

>The dessert: I didn’t order dessert.  I did have one of the free cookies: a steaming hot little lemon Madeline that was wrapped in a napkin like a present.  Presents: good.  Waiting for the check: bad.

By then it was 11 pm and the clientele had all gone to bed.  My friend and I decided it was time to end our sojourn as party-girls-in-residence.

The End.

P.S. The food is brilliant and superb, so this was totally worth it.
P.P.S. I didn’t pay.
P.P.P.S. Thanks for dinner Grace.

Posted in FOOD on November 12, 2010 9:16am by Rachel Hochhauser | 28 comments

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We are young (early 20's) and hungry (for knowledge! music! art! food!) friends living on (or in areas which border) Manhattan. We moved to the city seeking higher education, and an alternative to frat parties and gin buckets. We prefer a bottle of Chianti to a keg, lunches at City Bakery to a dining hall, Joe's to Starbucks, Frankie's Amatriciana to Batali's. Our uniting factor is our love for food. For detailed, personal information, keep reading.
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