The French Laundry: The finale

I hope you enjoyed yesterday's photos of The French Laundry. (And if you didn't, feel free to leave a scathing comment here.) Now it's time to get to the real meat of the meal and answer everyone's burning question: how was it?

I am struggling with the answer. It's not because I don't know the answer, but because I worry how it might sound. After all, I know it is a privilege to be able to eat there -- and I don't mean in a we-got-a-table! sort of way, I mean in a we-can-pay-the-hefty-Visa-bill sort of way. Somehow, criticizing a meal that many people would never, could never,  have the opportunity to eat seems crass. It seems pretentious and self-absorbed, and even wackier when you consider that every bite was absolutely delicious.

But the truth? The truth is that we were not blown away.

The first time I went to The French Laundry was nearly four years ago. It was Mr. Food Musing's 40th birthday and I wanted to do something special. At the time, I didn't write about food for fun, much less for money, and I hadn't eaten at very many high-end restaurants. Still, our expectations were high. How could they not be? The French Laundry could quite reasonably be called the country's best restaurant run by the country's best chef.

That first meal exceeded our expectations.

But this time it was different. For one, we have eaten there before. We have also eaten a lot of other very nice meals both here and abroad. That is not to say that we would be considered true epicures by certain standards, but we have been exposed to ingredients, preparations, and combinations that we hadn't the first time around. Our palates are changed. Hell, nearly half the cells in our body are new. We are, simply, different people.

We have also been through a life-changing tragedy, the kind that shapes you into a different human being with a different outlook on everything, including food. That is probably the biggest reason that I hesitate to critique the meal: I don't want to. It feels like looking a gift horse in the mouth. In the end, it is much more important to enjoy the meal's wondrousness than to belabor its downfalls.

The trip itself was perfect, one of the best days we have spent since Mr. FM's accident. We set off after lunch with the sun beating down on the tops of our heads and arms as we headed across the Golden Gate Bridge. Even with my eyes closed -- don't worry, I wasn't driving -- I knew the second we crossed that invisible line into Wine Country,  knew instantly because of the smell. (If only I could bottle that hot, dry, full, sweetly fecund smell and dab it behind my ears on sad days and rainy days...) Once we checked in to our hotel and realized there was a pool, we zoomed back up the road to Target (yes, even in Eden there is a Target) and bought swimsuits. We spent the rest of the afternoon by the pool, reading, snoozing, swimming. We poured a glass of wine, then changed for dinner and walked past a riot of pink and purple flowers lining the road to the restaurant. The sun followed everywhere we went, warming me through and through in my short sleeved dress. We enjoyed a leisurely meal and breathed in the sweet night air on the walk home again. In the morning, we walked down the street in the opposite direction, I in my sundress and Mr. FM in bare feet , and brought back a bag of buttery croissants and sweet cheese danishes, brioche toast and caramel macarons from Bouchon Bakery. I moved a chair into the crescent of new sunlight on the patio and read the paper. I forgot about all of the things bothering me back home. Bliss.

So maybe you can understand my hesitation to admit that it was not the best meal of our lives, that it was not nearly as exciting as we'd remembered or as wonderful as other meals we've had. But the bottom line was it was just not that interesting. Was every dish cooked to perfection? Yes. But is a seared scallop over thick, applewood-smoked bacon and English peas innovative? What about foie gras on toasted brioche, or steak with bordelaise sauce? Even if these dishes are perfectly prepared, they are not that intriguing. Dare I say it? I could even make some of these at home. Not with as much artistry or skill; surely the sauce would be muddier or the peas less sweet, the steak imperfectly cooked or the brioche (certainly) not homemade. But still, these are dishes I could replicate closely enough and, more importantly, conceive of in the first place. I didn't eat very much that was truly eye-opening.

Still, the high points of the meal are worth noting. Looking back over the photos, the thing that stands out is the exquisite beauty of each plating. Another thing to celebrate is the third course, our favorite, with its smoky Japanese eel and silky sea urchin; the candied pine nuts sent this dish over the top. Just that small detail, that small extra nuance of nuttiness, toastiness, and creaminess made it otherworldly. My tortellini with fava beans, olives, and mint foam was so much more than the sum of its parts. The sweet, pure tomato confit on my small tuile cone that started things off. The "oysters and pearls," that much-celebrated dish of creamy tapioca, oysters, and caviar* is practically worth the trip alone. These things deserve their due.

But in the end, I couldn't help feeling disappointed that nothing really "got" me. Nothing made my feet dance beneath the table. That is what I was looking for, and I am sad, and just a little bit let down, that I didn't find it.

* * *

*It is my one regret that I did not request the "oysters and pearls" with my vegetarian meal because let me tell you, turnip cream and umeboshi jelly does not even come close, folks. But otherwise, I didn't feel cheated by ordering the vegetable menu. 

 

Comments

[NS]

So, it's finally happened -- another food blogger less than blown away by TFL. I was starting to think that I would be the lone voice in the wilderness forever!

[ChuckEats]

It is not exciting food but it is very well done - for what it is. After eating in my fair share of French restaurants over the past year, I'd say it is 3-star Michelin quality.

W/r/t the "i could've cooked it myself" comments - that about sums up most of the Bay Area dining scene. However, TFL is far more technical than most restaurants. If you really could cook it, I'll pay reduced prices :-)

Is TFL the best in the bay? No way... A certain 2-star (the only legitimate one in Michelin's wacky list) has clearly taken the lead.

[Catherine]

NS -- I remember you said that you think it is not as good as it once was. I haven't been enough to judge if that's the case or not, I just know how the meal struck me this time. The bloom is off the rose, I guess.

ChuckEats -- I definitely didn't mean that I could cook at that level -- I hope I made that clear! I was simply pointing out that the innovation of the dishes was not, for the most part, in their component parts. As you say, they are brilliant technicians. No question there.

I am curious to know which 2-star you mean...?

[Jennifer Jeffrey]

I know how hard this was to write - I felt the same way after my visit there in March. I just kept thinking: what am I missing? Why isn't this meal exciting me?

I don't think we have to apologize for having high expectations. TFL has positioned itself as the game to beat... and certainly its prices follow suit.

But, like you, I feel lucky to have had the chance to form that opinion!

[NS]

After reading your post, I went back and read my last review of TFL (from 2005) and found it to be remarkably similar. Some of the dishes we were served that evening were outstanding, but more than a few were just fine without being inspiring. And yes, I definitely feel that the TFL has dropped precipitously from where it stood during my early meals at the restaurant in 2000-2001.

As for Chuck's comment, I can only assume from his writings elsewhere that he's referring to Manresa. I, too, have thought that Kinch has been giving Keller a run for his money for the past few years, especially when you factor in the cost of a meal at the two restaurants. That said, I was rather underwhelmed by the Passard dinner at Manresa back in March. The ingredients were certainly pristine, so the menu was enjoyable in that sense in a Chez Panisse kind of way. But the preparations and flavor combinations, with a few notable exceptions, failed to blow me away -- which was surprising given how much I've enjoyed Kinch's regular tasting menu in the past. Similarly, when I ate at L'Arpege for the first time a few weeks ago, it became shockingly clear that the full extent of Passard's genius did not even come close to translating properly in Los Gatos. I guess this was one of those rare instances in which the total may have been less than the sum of its parts!

[Catherine]

Jennifer -- I think this is why I didn't come home and sit down at the computer right away. I needed some time to think about how I wanted to say what I needed to say.

NS -- I assumed he meant Manresa too, but I was afraid of putting words in his mouth since I am an unabashed Manresa lover! It's interesting to read your comments about L'Arpege...I can't wait to read the entire Paris epic...but mostly I am reassured that Passard can cook. I also didn't find his dishes at the Manresa dinner overly inspirational.

[ChuckEats]

NS - i completely agree w/ your Manresa & L'Arpege comments. I talked to Kinch briefly about this and, being just an eater, I didn't realize everything that must come together for such an effort to work. Nevertheless, if Passard comes back next year, I'll return. L'Arpege is definitely a must-go for anyone traveling to Paris (assuming one has the budget b/c its expense can dwarf TFL.)

I should be eating at TFL sometime this summer but I've now learned how to play the expectations game - lower them and let them exceed :-)

[ChuckEats]

I forgot to mention. This is a relatively new blog, but the main writer has more eating experience than all of us put together.

She also happens to be TFL's best (or 2nd best) customer - over 100 meals. This is what happens when the TFL gloves come off and they let loose a little:

http://refinedpalate.vox.com/library/post/review-2-meals-at-the-french-laundry.html

[Cynthia]

The presentation of the dishes look really supberb. Thanks for the review. Don't know if I'll ever get to TFL is this life time.

[Tiffany]

I really enjoyed reading this. I always think it's amazing how much life events and a new perspective can change the same experience so much. I really loved all the pictures, and especially the heartfelt review. I followed the link and read about Mr. FM's accident and I am bowled over. What a tragedy, and what amazing people you both are! It doesn't surprise me at all that a fancy meal is a different experience now.

[Catherine]

Chuck -- I too know someone who's eaten at TFL nearly that many times. It's NUTS! But I am eager to read that blog you posted and see how different it can be if you're a good customer.

Cynthia -- glad you enjoyed it! Truthfully, I'm even more excited to try Ad Hoc, Keller's family-style American eatery just down the street. They don't take reservations at all, which seems so democratic!

Tiffany -- It's been a rough year. I don't feel very amazing; I find that you just get up every morning and keep on keeping on. There really is no other choice. Luckly, Mr. FM is much better now, and I look forward to the day when he is all the way better. That would be better than ANY meal, no matter how fine!

[Tea]

I love your comment about how you meant lucky for the experience, not just lucky to get in. I try to keep my feet on the ground and remember how fortunate I am to be able to be picky about my olive oil and gourmet salt (and I am). It's a rarified world up here, so many have so much less.

That said, it sounds like the entire trip was a wonderful experience (and I'm still laughing over the Target in Eden line).