Forget Thomas Keller: David Kinch is the new chef to bow down to in the Bay Area. His restaurant, Manresa, is tucked away in an unobtrusive yellow bungalow on a sleepy side street in the wealthy enclave of Los Gatos, and was just named to this year’s list of Top 50 Restaurants in the World by Restaurant magazine. Some refer to it coyly as French Laundry South, but to call it that dismisses with a flick of the pen what might be the area’s brightest new star.
Recently there's been much ado over Manresa, especially in food blog circles; after Saturday night, I consider myself one of the converted. I can only hope that our dining companions that night – C., who has been angling to guest star on my blog for ages, and his girlfriend C., who dropped out of the picture 7 months ago (much to my chagrin, oh-ho, MUCH to my chagrin) and is now back in the picture (I literally did a little dance when I saw her for the first time again in Manresa. Everyone stared. Who cares? I was ECSTATIC!) – will not be disappointed to find that this post focuses entirely on the food, the food, oh, the food. I beg their forgiveness for, though they are witty and wise, I have 16 exquisite courses to get through. And at Manresa, it’s all about the food. The service is professional and relaxed, the décor cozy and decidedly not pretentious, but trust me – it’s all about what’s on the plate.
And so it began, with a glass of champagne and a reunion of good friends, two of them back on track after a few months of momentary insanity (that’s C. and C., folks, not me and Mr. FM.)
Black olive madeleines and red pepper gumdrops The olive-laced madeleines, warm and crisp on the outside, would have made Proust weep. The savory gumdrops balanced them with a hint of the pepper’s natural sweetness and a dusting of sugar.
Citrus salad in oolong tea gelée with fresh mint Tiny precious segments of orange and grapefruit swam in a clear tea sea. Light and bright.
Foie Gras Cromequis Heaven and Orgasm rolled into one. What looks like a small cube of fried, breaded cheese is really foie gras. Eat it in one bite and shake and shudder in ecstasy as the foie gras, rendered liquid by the high heat, oozes into your mouth with its earthy, sensuous goodness. Oh, God...
“The Egg” Considered a nod to Alain Passard's famous egg at l'Arpege in Paris, this egg is coddled for 60 seconds and served in the shell with a drizzle of maple syrup. Dip your mother-of-pearl spoon all the way to the bottom and scoop up the soft, golden yolk, pillowy clouds of egg white and whipped cream, and a hint of Mother Nature's sweetener. (For a photo of Passard's egg, click here and then again when you see Chaud-froid d'oeuf fermier, Sirop d'érable.)
Broccoli soup with foie gras and a Parmesan crisp The Parmesan crisp, meant for sharing, came to the table in the shape of a hook. It looked like a Mexican churro, sans cinnamon and sugar, with deep grooves etched all the way around. Its crisp skin oozed butter and reminded me of the Perfect French Fry. The soup combined broccoli, pureed smooth, with more foie gras.
Scallop sashimi and yuzu consommé The raw scallop had been minced into nearly microscopic pieces, then recomposed in the scallop's familiar oval shape. Served in a mother-of-pearl shell with equally miniature chives and quivering consommé made of yuzu, a citrus fruit found mainly in Japan that hovers between tangerine and grapefruit.
Soft shell crab with avocado and wilted dandelions One half of the plumpest, juiciest soft shell crab I've ever had the good fortune to place on my tongue. Lightly fried and served atop gently mashed avocado with echoes of lemon, and thin strands that resembled cabbage or bean sprouts but which careful questioning revealed were, in fact, dandelion.
Black cod with crab and salmon roe A small morsel of ebony-skinned cod, served skin side up and bathed in a bit of broth and butter, fresh strings of sweet crab meat and fat globes of salmon roe like none other I've tasted: creamy and rich, no hint of fishiness or brine. I relished each as it popped in my mouth and slid down my throat.
Veal sweetbreads Don't turn up your nose; these succulent sweetbreads were fried with an easy touch and served with round baby carrots, orange slices and wild asparagus whose stems were so delicate and its buds so top-heavy, it was hard to imagine them standing up on the mountainside at all.
Squab with cherries and cippolini onions One thigh and breast of luscious dark meat, the color of an old Burgundy, with warmed cherries and caramelized whole cippolini onions.
Venison with fried squash blossoms The quarter-sized piece of venison was accompanied by a mound of minced dried fruit, not oily enough to call a pesto but that's the best I can do. The zucchini blossom was stuffed with spinach and a mild creamy cheese (ricotta?) before being gently fried.
Mini ice cream cones In rainbow colors of cherry, rhubarb, mango and green apple on crisp homemade cones the color of caramel.
Mini strawberry soufflé with lemon custard Served in a teacup-sized soufflé pan, the soufflés airy and ethereal as any soufflé should be, one small, perfect red slice of strawberry baked on top.
Chocolate marquis with condensed milk ice cream A mousse-like cake, fluffy in consistency but dense in flavor, with an ice cream so rich it deserves a new name.
Chocolate madeleines with strawberry gumdrops The meal came full circle and ended as it had begun, with dessert madeleines and gumdrops.
Manresa, Los Gatos, 320 Village Lane, 408-354-4330
What a sublime meal and fabulous menu! Oh, to live in the Bay Area ...
Posted by: tara | May 27, 2005 at 06:59 AM
You could always fly down for a wee holiday!
Posted by: Catherine | May 27, 2005 at 08:20 AM