It was four years since my last visit to the French Laundry. Since then, Chef de Cuisine Corey Lee left and opened San Francisco’s Benu, with Timothy Hollingsworth taking his place. It’s an interesting situation being the chef de cuisine at a restaurant of this caliber where the executive chef no longer cooks. On the one hand it’s an incredible opportunity for a chef to propel his career, but unfortunately, the dishes still have to further the concepts and passions set forth by someone else: Thomas Keller.

Sometimes there’s synergy between an executive chef and a chef de cuisine, and at other times, a discontinuity. While I’ve never been lucky enough to eat dishes prepared by Thomas Keller, Chef Hollingsworth comes close to what I’d imagine chef Keller’s cooking to be: precise and composed. My last meal was delicious, but it felt sterile and soulless. This time around it was better: there were glimpses into chef Hollingsworth’s inspirations.

This was my first time at French Laundry for lunch service, and the dining room felt very different. Candle light was replaced by bright sunlight pouring in through the windows. The mood was more casual, the ambience lighter and more approachable. It felt less intense.

Our meal started with an iPad, holding an electronic copy of the restaurant’s wine list. Having simply heard that the restaurant handed iPads to diners to choose their wines I might have thought it was gimmicky, but it was actually really helpful. For the first time I could search through a wine menu and filter by the grapes I liked.

Our meal started with a glass of champagne and some small snacks.

Warm gougères - Piping hot puff pastries of cheese, with a generous helping of salt to really focus the flavor.

Salmon cornets – “Grab a cornet and eat it in two bites,” our waiter instructed us. There’s a reason these black sesame cones filled with salmon, dill, and red onion crème fraîche are always on the menu: they’re delicious.

Oysters and Pearls - A sabayon of pearl tapioca with Island Creek oysters and a generous dollop of white sturgeon caviar. This is a very rich dish that is unbelievable every time. My friend the ulterior epicure likens the texture of the sabayon to “warm mayonaise.” While he has a point about the dish’s creaminess, for me the refreshing brininess of the caviar really helps cut through the fatty mouthfeel of the butter. The 3-bite portioning also helps, although I would have no problem eating three of these. This course remains one of my favorites of Thomas Keller.

Royal Ossetra Caviar, Compressed Summer Melon, Nasturtium and Black Pepper Crème Fraîche – This was a dish that was far prettier than it was tasty. In fact, it looked like the ingredients were chosen for their aesthetic value rather than their flavor: what did the mealy flavors of the flowers contribute to the dish? The melon helped bring out the minerality of the caviar, but everything else on the plate was mere decoration, or at least I didn’t get it.

Moulard Duck Foie Gras “En Terrine,” French Laundry Garden Strawberries, Cucumber, Young Coconut and Greek Basil – This was the first time I didn’t like one of The French Laundry or Per Se’s foie gras dishes. This was really disappointing. The golden, buttered brioche was warm, rich, and perfect — it was even replaced half-way through the course. But the liver itself was flavorless tasting like dense whipped cream. The basil seeds looked great on the plate, but they really didn’t add anything to this dish either. The two supplemental courses I was the most excited for: the ossetra caviar and the foie gras, were the most disappointing of the afternoon.

A little bit down from the previous two courses, we splurged and ordered a white burgundy, a 2006 Puligny-Montrachet 1re Cru Les Folatières. This was a younger sister of one of my favorite white burgundies, one that we ordered at El Bullí in 2010. Its flavor was of apricot and honey. This marked the point where our meal took a turn for the better.

Spanish Mackerel “En Escabèche,” Heirloom Tomatoes, Crispy Artichokes, Mizuna and Pine Nut Vinaigrette – A bowl of mackerel and colored vegetables. The strength of the mackerel helped it stand up to the fried artichokes. This was a dish about textures, every bite was a different combination of crunchy and smooth. I thought this course was brilliant.

Atlantic Cod “Confit à la Minute,” Summer Squash, Toybox Tomatoes, Parsley and Sweet Garlic Cream - A large filet of atlantic cod wrapped in squash with tomatoes and garlic cream. The cod itself was pretty flavorless, but the squash helped add a bit of vegetal flavor and texture. The tomatoes added a hint of acidity. This dish was about everything except the fish.

Sweet Butter-Poached Maine Lobster Tail, Fennel Bulb, Mission Fig, Marcona Almonds and Aged Balsamic Vinegar – Supple chunks of sweet lobster claw over sweet corn with fig. The real highlight of this dish was the crunch of the sweet corn with the richness of the salty butter. The lobster claws were a bonus. The fennel and marcona almonds didn’t add much to this dish, but the corn and lobster was so fantastic I really enjoyed this course.

Devil’s Gulch Ranch “Épaule de Lapin,” Black Eyed Peas, Arrowleaf Spinach, Glazed Bing Cherry and Black Truffle-Maple Jus - Making the transition from fish to meat came a small rabbit loin  glazed in a black truffle and maple jus. This was a heartier dish served in a small portion which left us wanting more. This was a great course.

Smoked Liberty Farm Pekin Duck Breast, Royal Blenheim Apricot Purée, Romano Beans, Mustard Frills and Turnip “‘Mostarda” - Thin slices of thick-skinned duck with a fruity apricot purée to contrast against the duck’s fat. I would have liked that the skin be a little bit crispier to give some textural contrast, but the doneness was perfect — almost like a piece of lean tuna. Really liked this course.

Snake River Farms “Calotte de Bœuf Grillée,” Dill Pasta, Red Beets, Horseradish Mousse, Roasted Shallot and “Sauce Borscht” – A gorgeous, beet-read cut of grilled beef served over a “borscht” sauce. The acidity from the vinegar in the sauce really made this dish, cutting through the fatty mouthfeel of the beautifully marbleized meat. The beef was uniformly rare with a paper thin crispy surface from where it touched the grill that gave it just a hint of char. This was a great dish.

Before the cheese course and desserts, we stepped onto the patio and took a 45-minute break. The weather was absolutely perfect.

“Comté Reserve,” Eggplant, Sultana Raisins, Marcona Almonds, Frisée and Red Snapper Essence – For this composed cheese course, slices of 24-month aged comté were wedged between small eggplant and patches of frisée. I love comté; I really didn’t understand everything else on the plate. It just seemed arbitrary. Call me a purist, but I like comté by itself.

“Caramélia Chocolate “Crèmeux,” Gros Michel Banana, Georgia Peanuts, “Dentelle” and Salted Popcorn Ice Cream – A cylinder of sweet milk chocolate mousse contrasted against salty popcorn ice cream and caramel. This was a great dessert, really a balance of sweet and savory. The peanuts and crispy caramel layer added a textural contrast making this one of the few chocolate desserts I have enjoyed.

“Nectarine Melba,” Sicilian Pistachio “Pain de Gênes,” Andante Dairy Yogurt, “Biscotti,” and Raspberry Sorbet – A delicate pistachio cake crowned with slices of ripe nectarine. To the side was a biscotti crumble and a raspberry sorbet. This dessert was fruity, sweet, and full of color.

Coffee and Doughnuts - A Thomas Keller signature: cinnamon-sugared doughnut holes with a “cappuccino semi-freddo.” This dessert is always available at both Per Se and The French Laundry and with good reason: it’s one of the best. Simple balls of deep-fried dough coated in in cinnamon and sugar.

After coffee & doughnuts, we ordered some real coffee. Too bad there were no more doughnuts.

Mignardises – A selection of chocolates: (clockwise) olive oil, meyer lemon, peanut butter and jelly, michigan cherry, hazelnut, and ginger.

At the end of the meal we took a walk into the kitchen where Chef Hollingsworth and team were preparing for dinner service. The tone in the kitchen was remarkable: no yelling or shouting, everything was in order and the staff focused, calm, and collected. It felt like an operating room in its precision with Chef Hollingsworth its chief surgeon.

Would I go back? Absolutely. Chef Hollingsworth made the French Laundry worth re-visiting. But right now, it would be mostly for the experience, the service, and the way the restaurant allows diners to spend a relaxing meal with friends. The service is flawless, the wine list nonpareil, and the Napa valley gorgeous. The meal was good — better than my experiences under chef Corey Lee, but it still lacked that spark that I can only imagine existed when chef Keller was in the kitchen. As Chef Hollingsworth grows, he’ll be able to direct more of the restaurant’s culinary vision, hopefully pouring some of his own passion into the cuisine.

Open thoughts:

• How has the French Laundry changed since Thomas Keller stopped cooking?
• What are some differences you’ve noticed between chefs Corey Lee and Timothy Hollingsworth?
• How does chef Corey Lee’s cuisine at Benu compare to his cuisine at The French Laundry?
• Is it necessary for a restaurant to convey time and place?

Related Posts:

• The French Laundry
• Manresa
• Saison
• L2O
• Alinea Revisited

My journey at The French Laundry began with a trip through the garden. With an hour to spare before our reservation, we explored the autumn-colored late-season tomatoes practically falling off their vines in ripeness. I turned to my left and noticed, in shock, a farmer pruning the vines and discarding these perfect tomatoes. “We’re clearing the vines out today, want some tomatoes?” he asked. That may have been the fasted I’d ever ran looking for a bag; as I knew, The French Laundry grows and has access to some of the finest ingredients in the world.

During the first decade of the restaurant’s operation, Chef Thomas Keller melded California’s impeccable ingredient quality with innovative fine dining. The restaurant has won numerous awards and accolades, arguably making it the most famous restaurant in the country. We hoped to find the same inspiration that made the restaurant famous now that chef Keller is no longer in the kitchen. Our meal overall tasted very good, but it felt uninspired.

I loaded up three shopping bags with the freshest and sweetest tomatoes I’d ever seen. Onlookers thought I had a bit too much to drink, ravaging the tomato vines in a suit with a garbage bag. These three hefty bags of heirloom tomatoes made it to my car, back to my hotel, and on the plane with me to New York the following day. You should have seen the faces of TSA as bags of tomatoes passed through the X-Ray machines.

We brushed the dirt off our shoes and walked across the street to the restaurant.

Our table was a quiet one on the first floor in the corner of a hundred-year old house. The dining room was dimly lit and romantic with nothing but whispers and the clanking of utensils and glassware to be heard. We ordered a glass of champagne and settled in for our first course.

Gruyère gougères – Warm cheese puffs piped with Mornay sauce. These were generously salted and went nicely with a crisp glass of champagne.

Salmon cornets – Small cones of raw salmon tartar in a sesame tuile with sweet red onion crème fraîche. Our waiter asked us to pick a cone from the specially made holder; we ate it in our hand like a savory ice cream cone. These cones were outstanding, a balance of a sweet nutty tuile with fatty salmon and light vegetal crème fraîche.

Soupe de musquée de provence with kakai pumpkin seeds - A thick, creamy pumpkin soup with crunchy bits of pumpkin seeds. The flavor of the soup was earthy and rich. I liked the idea of a textural contrast, but the hard, shiny surface of the pumpkin seeds made for too stark of a contrast; the broth just slid off the sides without integrating.

Paired with a Schramsberg Vineyards, “J. Schram,” California, 1999

Oysters and Pearls – A sabayon of pearl tapioca with beau soleil oysters and white sturgeon caviar. This Thomas Keller classic is always on the menu at both Per Se and The French Laundry. This incredibly rich, buttery hollandaise-like sauce works great with the cold briny caviar and plump oysters. The remarkable thing about this dish is that it is always identical. After having this dish about a dozen times now between Per Se and The French Laundry, I don’t think I have ever noticed a difference. It is always a great way to begin a meal.

Sashimi of pacific kahala – Thin slices of Applewood smoked kahala served with blis maple syrup. Our waiter brought us a covered glass with thin cuts of kahala, and when the cover was lifted a small cloud of Applewood smoke was released. This was a dish where the puff of smoke smelled better than the fish tasted, or did not taste for that matter. The fish was relatively flavorless by itself. A dash of soy sauce may have helped to extract some of the flavors.

White truffle custard - Served in an egg shell with a ragoût of Perigord white truffle. This wasn’t a very fragrant dish despite the inclusion of white truffles, instead, the truffle added a mushroom-like earthiness to the custard that was addictive. After three bites the egg was hollow; we wanted more.

I generally don’t comment on wine pairings because I think they’re more about the experience of drinking wine with friends than enhancing the flavor of each course. However, this is one of the two best wine pairings I have ever had. The sweetness of the fruity, fortified wine really contrasted against the salty, earthiness of the truffles. The net effect was a stronger truffle flavor, as if eating this dish through a magnifying glass. The sommelier should win an award for this combination.

Paired with a Barbeito, Sercial, Madeira, Portugal 1978

Air-cured wagyu with 100-year-old balsamic vinegar - Thin, translucent slices of heavily marbleized wagyu beef garnished with arugula leaves, toasted pine nuts, and sweet, syrupy aged vinegar. This was the oldest vinegar I had ever tasted. I can only imagine the size of the original barrel. (I’ve heard rumors that 500L reduces to 1L in 75 years.) This was a composed meat course that I really enjoyed; the air drying of the fatty beef really helped to concentrate its flavor while reducing the fatty feeling in the mouth. That being said, I couldn’t help but notice a glaring sterility on the plate. The modernization of such a rustic dish somehow made it seem less appealing.

Paired with Naia, Verdejo, “Naiades,” Rueda, Spain, 2005

The French Laundry had held off on bread service due to our request for an extended tasting. But how can one say no to a buttery, shiny, caramel-colored bread such as this?

Hand-cut tagliatelle – Served with parmigiano reggiano and shaved burgundy white truffles. This was the highlight course of the night, and likely of all the meals I’ve had at Thomas Keller restaurants. This dish was straightforward and delicious: flour, egg, butter, parmigiano-reggiano cheese, white truffles, salt, and pepper. That’s it. The white truffles were unbelievably fragrant. This dish is proof that simple is sometimes better.

Paired with a Tor, Chardonnay, “Durell Vineyard,” Sonoma, 2004

Columbia river sturgeon confit à la minute – Served with potato rissolée, english cucumber, pickled pearl onions, sorrel, salmon roe, and dill crème fraîche. I love fish; it’s my favorite food. But a 6-bite chunk of white fish in the middle of an extended tasting, especially after a shaved white truffle course, is just boring. The best part of this dish was everything around the fish, the way the pickled onion interacted with the salmon roe and fruit. A good dish on its own, the river sturgeon was a let down after some of the other courses.

Paired with a Schloss Gobelsburg, “Renner,” Grüner Veltliner, Kamptal, Austria 2005

Sweet butter-poached Maine lobster mitts - Served over sautéed foie gras, hazelnuts, sunchoke purée, and a coffee-chocolate emulsion. This was another incredible dish, a surf and turf of lobster and foie gras. The liver was creamy, buttery, sweet while the lobster well-salted and also buttery. The coffee-chocolate emulsion gave off a slight bitterness which made the foie taste even sweeter (much in the same way that grapefruit can enhance foie gras’s sweetness as well). The ground roasted hazelnuts added a perfect textural contrast against the soft meats. This was a delicious, decadent course.

Paired with a Spencer Roloson, Viognier, “Noble Vineyard,” Knights Valley, 2005

The lobster and foie gras was also served with a selection of six different salts: sal gris, fleur de sel, black lava, himalayan, and local salts. It was fun to try the different salts, each with varying salinity and minerality. Our waiter left the salt tray on the table for us to enjoy with bread service.

Scottish red-legged partridge - Served with glazed chestnuts, caramelized splendor apples and spiced bread purée. I loved how the salty, crispy skin really brought out the flavor of the partridge. I really liked this course, but again, something about the course felt very sterile.

Paired with a Brewer Clifton, Pinot Noir, “Rio Vista,” Santa Rita Hills, 2005

Rib-eye of Elysian Fields farm lamb “plat de côte braisée” - Served with toasted pearl barley, niçoise olives, sweet peppers, and baby artichokes. This course was proportionally inconsistent with the other courses: 10-bites of meat in a tasting of this size induces palate fatigue. The meat itself was cooked very nicely with a uniform doneness throughout the interior and a lightly singed caramel skin. The meat was juicy and earthy, indicative of the cattle’s grass diet. This dish would have worked much better as part of an à la carte menu, but it weighed down the meal and was overshadowed by the tagliatelle and foie gras – lobster dishes.

Paired with Ridge, “Home Ranch,” Cabernet Sauvignon / Merlot / Petit Verdot, Santa Cruz Mountains 2002

Tomme brûlée - Torched sheep’s milk cheese with a gratin of broccolini and sauce mornay. Both Per Se and French Laundry serve a cheese course but it’s always composed, usually paired with cooked or raw vegetables. This cheese from France’s Basque region was earthy and nutty. There was nothing particularly wrong with this course, but I’m a simple guy: I like my cheese, and a lot of it, by itself. Heck, I don’t even put it on bread.

Persian lime sorbet - A light citrus sorbet served with coconut granité. This refreshing course cleansed the palate, especially the oils from the warm cheese from the composed cheese course.

Coffee and Doughnuts - A Thomas Keller signature: cinnamon-sugared doughnuts with a “cappuccino semi-freddo.” Like oysters and pearls, the kitchens of Per Se and The French Laundry have the production of this dish down to a science. It is always consistent, always delicious. The cappuccino semi-freddo had a texture of a pot de crème with a fluffy mouse up top. It had the distinct taste of coffee without having much of the oxidized flavor coffee-flavored products sometimes have. Its sweetness was just right. This was delicious. The doughnuts were served hot.

Paired with a Domaine Fontanel, Rivesaltes Ambré, 1997

S’mores - Peanut butter parfait, caramel délice and sauce à la Guimauve flambée. The best part of this dessert was the salted peanut butter with its brittle-like sandiness. This dish was a bit of a stretch from a s’more, perhaps the connection is the “guimauve flambée” or burnt marshmallow.

Paired with a Kiralyudvar, Tokaji, “Cuvee Ilona,” Hungary, 2001

Mignardises - We finished the meal with a parade of sweets including marzipan, pumpkin pâtes de fruit, and small macarons.

Then came a vanilla bean pot de crème with a thin layer of sweet strawberry preserve at the bottom.

Last, a selection of chocolate truffles. These truffles were absolutely delicious, but at this point in the meal I was very full. I wish I could have put a few of them in a box to bring home.

I enjoyed the meal. There was nothing particularly wrong with it. In fact, it was technically flawless and well-executed. The ingredient quality was impeccable. The service was some of the best I’ve experienced in a restaurant. Given the lengths we’d travelled to eat here, our waiter made us comfortable and kept us laughing throughout the evening. The sommelier was incredible. But something still felt like something was missing.

I couldn’t put my finger on it until a few days after, at which point the problem with the meal became quite obvious and glaring: there wasn’t much character.  While this works for dishes that never change, like oysters and pearls, the salmon cornets, and coffee and doughnuts, once the assembly line went off track everything else felt impersonal and disconnected: like a museum tour of what fine dining should be, disconnected from time and place.

Would I go back? Absolutely. But I’d be driven more by the romantic idea of eating in Napa in an old house with friends over a long dinner with great wine. The restaurant does one seating for lunch and one for dinner, so diners are almost never rushed. After the meal the courtyard is open to continue the conversation, lasting long into the night. The French Laundry, for me, is more about the experience than it is the food, and while that’s not something I look for in a restaurant, there are times when the experience is what’s important.

Open thoughts:

• Must Thomas Keller to be in the kitchen to maintain the same quality of food?
• How important is the non-food experience when factoring in enjoyment of a meal?
• Is soul a prerequisite for good food?
• How much freedom is Corey Lee given to explore his own concepts?

Related Posts:

• The French Laundry Revisited
• L2O
• Alinea Revisited
• Alinea
• Sant Pau

I have since been back half a dozen times, each time a completely different menu and experience. Each meal has been progressively better. The ever evolving cuisine reveals a chef with tremendous versatility, precision, and passion. For these reasons, I believe Chef Kinch is currently the best chef in America.

In person, chef Kinch is soft-spoken and humble, rarely talking about himself or his current inspirations. The best way to understand chef Kinch is to understand his food. This is what makes each visit to Manresa special: each meal is a speechless conversation with chef Kinch, and he has a lot to say. During my first few visits, his food spoke of recent trips to France, revealing inspiration from Alain Passard and Michel Bras. He returned obsessed with vegetables, forging a partnership with Cynthia Sandberg of Love Apple Farms. More recently, his food spoke of visits to Tokyo and Kyoto: walks through tsukiji market and kaiseki meals at Koju. While chef Kinch’s cooking is enjoyed by everyone, it speaks even louder to diners who have eaten in Paris and Tokyo. David Kinch is a foodie’s chef.

One of the things I most admire about chef Kinch is his disregard for culinary politicking. Like Quique Dacosta of Spain, his cooking style reflects his current passions, regardless of what’s en vogue. Noma‘s ascension to the top of Pellegrino’s best restaurants list has not affected Kinch’s food in the slightest. This is a breath of fresh air. He’s a no-nonsense culinary rebel.

Manresa, named after the small Spanish north west of Barcelona, is about an hour south of San Francisco. A winding path leads from a quiet street to the restaurant. After passing the reception desk, the newly added modern dining room hangs left while the original dining room remains off to the right.

Black olive madeleines and roasted bell pepper pâtes de fruits – Our meal started with a Manresa staple, a cake-like madeline of black olive and a sugar-coated jelly of roasted red bell pepper. These two vegetal snacks, disguised as sweets, hint at the restaurant’s deep connection to local produce. It’s hard to describe these as delicious, but there is an addictive quality to them.

Roquefort cheese sablé – A crispy, salty, cheesy snack that really complimented the crisp green apple from our champagne.

Paired with N.V. Diebolt-Vallois Champagne Blanc de Blanc Brut à Cramant

Garden beignets, crispy kale, vinegar powder - Warm beignets counterbalanced with the subtle acidity of the vinegar powder. The crispy kale added a vegetal bitterness. This was a small arrangement of textures all held together by the leafy green taste of the garden.

An elemental oyster - A local oyster lightly poached in its own shell, topped with an ocean water gelée, and a sprinkle of nori flakes. The oyster was impeccably fresh — sweet and briny — and the subtle poaching enhance the oyster’s natural sweetness. The ocean water gelée extended the texture of the oyster making it taste twice the size. The umami of the dried seaweed enhanced the shellfish’s natural flavors.

Paired with Hangar One Kaffir Lime Vodka

This pairing with the vodka was too intense for me. While the vodka did have a clean taste and a pleasant citrus component from the kaffir lime, the burn of the alcohol distracted from the delicate flavors of the oyster.

Fig leaf curd, coriander granita, marcona almond, strawberry gazpacho - Wow. This was summer in a bowl. A rich lather of chilled strawberry gazpacho was poured into an herbal, ice cold coriander granita. This was an exceptionally fragrant and balanced dish highlighting the fresh produce of late summer.

 Japanese sardines with beets, watermelon, radish, and a garden sorrel sauce - A small sardine carried by the fresh vegetal bitterness of the chilled sorrel sauce. The sweet chunks of compressed watermelon and beets added a hint of sugar to an otherwise savory dish. This was a minimalist dish exemplifying how the freshness of raw vegetables can enhance the freshness of the sea. A simple dish with little cooking, where chef Kinch took a step back and let the natural ingredients speak for themselves.

Raw milk panna cotta, Monterey bay abalone and an abalone-dashi gelée - This was an exceptional dish, one that demonstrated chef Kinch’s deep understanding of Japanese cuisine and simplicity, and how to apply those techniques with local ingredients. With a texture like chawanmushi, room temperature raw-milk panna cotta formed the base of this dish. The panna cotta was covered with a thin layer of transparent abalone gelée.  The gelée was delicately salted and dotted with chunks of warm, meaty abalone. This was one of the most memorable dishes I’ve tasted this year.

Albacore tuna, runner beans, crispy bean shell bouillon, lemon verbena, olive oil - This was chef Kinch’s sashimi course in a traditional kaiseki sequence. The tuna was lean but still buttery with an herbal note that grounded the dish to California.

Razor clams – A small bowl of razor clams with wild rice, chrysanthemum and roast chicken gelée, topped with fennel fronds. This was another incredible dish. Chewy, plump grains of wild rice topped with chunks of razor clam whose meaty flavor was enhanced by the roast chicken gelée. The chrysanthemum and fennel fronds added an anise-like herbal dimension that kept each bite interesting. This was a dish that took me back to the rice courses from some of my favorite kaiseki experiences in Japan.

Paired with a 2007 Izadi Viura from Rioja

A summer tidal pool - A David Kinch classic, a dish that has taken on various forms over the years. This was the best version yet. Chunks of Monterey bay abalone, sea urchin, foie gras, local spot prawn, and hinoki mushroom swimming in a beautifully salted dashi broth. It was as if chef Kinch took a list of my favorite Japanese ingredients and combined them into one dish. This was a simple dish with a very complex flavor; sweet sea urchin and prawns, buttery foie gras, meaty abalone and earthy hinoki combined into a broth of absolute perfection. This is a dish where chef Kinch exercised culinary restraint, letting a simple dashi broth serve as the clean canvas for the natural flavors of the sea.

Paired with a 2009 COS Rami 50% insolio and 50% grecanico from Sicily IGT

Into the vegetable garden - A handpicked showcase of the day’s herbs from Love Apple Farms combined into a beautiful, colorful potpourri. I loved this dish and Kinch’s local interpretation of the gargouillou. This dish was a collection of textures both smooth and crunchy and herbal flavors ranging from sweet to bitter. My only complaint is that it’s a bit awkward to eat these delicate, almost weightless leaves with a full-sized fork and knife; it would have been easier with a pair of fine chopsticks or culinary forceps. This is a dish that connects Manresa to its surroundings, a reminder that California has the finest produce in the country.

Paired with a 2010 Domaine du Salvard Sauvignon Blanc from Cheverny

The meal could have ended right here and it would have been one of my all time favorite dining experiences. The last seven dishes made one of the best sequences in a restaurant I’ve ever had. What came was still outstanding, but of a very different foundation from the first half of the meal. The meal took a turn from Japan and headed back to Europe.

Late season fava beans - A risotto made from late season fava beans with a farm egg, morel mushrooms, and sheep’s milk ricotta. This was a very original, creative dish where the chewy fava beans were cooked to mimic the texture of risotto. The butter and generous salting carried this dish, enhancing the earthiness of the mushrooms. The ricotta thickened the sauce making it really texturally close to a risotto.

Paired with a 2009 Bruno Clair Rosé of Pinot Noir from Marsanny

Monterey bay abalone - A firm medallion of abalone cooked in brown butter topped table-side with a pesto of pickled cucumber and walnut. A few leaves of Malabar spinach added a vegetal, tannic component to the dish. The butter really helped bring out the flavor of the abalone, and the pickled cucumber pesto brightened the meatiness of the shellfish.

Poached halibut - Thick cuts of poached halibut served with thinly sliced young celeriac and romanesco. This was one of my least favorite courses of the night. There was nothing particularly wrong with the dish, but after a heavenly sequence of abalone, razor clams, sea urchin, spot prawn, and foie gras, giant chunks of poached halibut seemed boring. This would have been a great dish as part of a smaller tasting menu, but at this point in the sequence, it didn’t make much sense.

Paired with a 2006 Domaine de la Tournelle Terre de Gryphees Chardonnay from Arbois, France

Suckling porcelet – A generous cut of young pig served with chanterelle mushrooms, apricot-anise purée, courgette velouté, and a pistachio pesto. This was a heavier course and although fatty, the crispy skin really helped diversify the texture; the crunch was the best part of this dish.

Paired with a 2007 Jacques Puffeney Trousseau from Arbois France

Potatoes and duck fat “paillasson” – A crispy hash of potatoes cooked in duck fat, garnished with fennel and turnip. There were also small drops of bitter orange and olive. This was a very balanced dish with almost no oily mouthfeel, despite having been fried in duck fat.

Paired with a 2008 Domaine Maume from Gevrey-Chambertin

Summer berries and cream - Summer berries, both roasted and raw with a lemon cream. Underneath the berries was a bed of açaí granite and yogurt sorbet. This was light and sweet with the cream sauce giving the dish some substance, but the lemon ensuring it tasted bright and refreshing.

Paired with a 2008 Pride Mountain Cabernet Franc from Sonoma County

Chocolate-caramel cremeaux – Dollops of chocolate-caramel cream with fleur de sel ice cream and a popcorn custard. I really don’t like chocolate-flavored desserts (I love pure chocolate) but this was pretty good. Mainly because there wasn’t much bitterness in the chocolate, and the popcorn added a buttery, nutty component that made this really interesting.

Paired with a 2009 Earl Champalou Les Tries de Champalou Chenin Blanc from Vouvray

The cheese cart – Bent river, Blond d’Espèce, Pleasant Ridge reserve, Amarello de beta spacious, Garden Variety’s Moonflower, Gabriel Coulet Roquefort, Redwood Hill’s Bucheret, Chèvriere Cendre, and Cypress Grove Midnight Moon.

We chose a few pieces from the cart: Roquefort, Chevrière cendre (concord grape ash), Gouda-style Midnight moon, Cow’s milk Pleasant ridge reserve, and Bent River.

By this point in the meal, we were left with a gorgeous gradient of wines.

Petits fours - Strawberry pâtes de fruits and chocolate madeleines. We finished the meal much in the same way we started, only with fruit instead of vegetables.

I loved my recent meal at Manresa. The cooking was consistently flawless, and the flavors balanced and delicious. While this was an incredible tasting, the meal really felt like two tastings in a single sitting, one of Japan and one of France and Spain. I’m tempted to return to try the shorter menu next time in hopes that it could be even more focused.

The overall experience was refined and comfortable: this restaurant has really transitioned from a local, neighborhood place to one that deserves a lot more international attention than it’s currently receiving. The restaurant currently has two Michelin stars, but if this isn’t a three star restaurant at this point, I’m not sure what is. In the meantime now is the perfect time to go; I have a funny suspicion the restaurant is about to get a lot busier.

Related Posts:

• Saison
• RyuGin
• Les Ambassadeurs
• Favorite Meals of 2011
• Favorite Dishes of 2011

Chef Skenes is obsessed with flavor and how best to enhance it. In contrast to restaurants that over-embellish dishes and add complexity at the expense of flavor, Skenes takes away. Flavor is paramount for chef Skenes; everything else comes secondary. There is a firm Japanese influence in his cooking rooted in its simplicity, from his cuts of sashimi and live prawns to his use of sea vegetables. Skenes builds on this base of Japanese ingredients and applies fire, culminating in a magical and unique cooking style.

At the center of Saison is its hearth, an open wood-burning oven which nearly every dish utilizes in one form or another. Roasting over the hearth deeply intensifies the flavor of the ingredients. Sometimes Chef Skenes uses the hearth to roast an entire fish or meat, other times he’ll roast the bones as a component for a stock used to make a sauce to accompany a meat. Whether intense or subtle, the subtle smokiness and depth from the wood-burning hearth seems to make its way into every dish. The result is an addictive, rustic, wholesome flavor that makes every bite interesting.

The restaurant itself is set back in a barn-like industrial space off a quiet street in San Francisco’s Mission district. It was only after hearing the clanking of pots and pans that I realized I was in the right place. While the restaurant is soon to change locations, the current warehouse-like space is beautiful. The warm glow from the embers of the hearth permeates through one of the two dining rooms. The space is pastoral and romantic, its unassuming decor exemplifies the simplicity of the food Saison serves.

Reserve caviar – Wild reserve caviar from white sturgeon lightly smoked over the embers of the hearth. The smoking is just for a few seconds to firm the texture and add a smokey depth to the flavor.

Alongside the caviar was a Sardinian “music paper,” a thin cracker cooked in the hearth topped with a layer of smoked crème fraîche, artichoke citronne, artichoke purée, shad roe, egg yolks and whites, ficoide glaciale (ice plant), salt wort from Saison’s farm, and wild foraged herbs. This herbal garden was dusted with gold leaf.

Trio of canapés - Three plates of bite sized snacks.

The first was a Marin miyagi oyster filled with diced cucumber, borage, and drizzled with olive oil and a dash of fermented lime. Its flavor was bright, briny, and clean.

Second was a glass of tubers: giant carrot purée with parsnip milk and a purée made from crisp and roasted parsnip. Underneath was a creamy layer of salted egg yolk, oxalis tuber and leaves. The dish was garnished with mallow flower and crispy ice plant.

Third, a sandwich of sliced radish topped with radish gelée. Inside was bitter melon glazed with roasted pig butter and nasturtium honey. The delicate balance of sweet and bitter is what made this dish, and prevented the sweetness of the honey from becoming cloying.

Flight of fish - A selection of seven colorful fish, some aged and some straight from the sea.  From left to right: Red sea bream (aged 3 days), lobster tail wrapped in white radish, pen shell clam, horse mackerel, Kindai bluefin tuna belly, striped jack (aged 5 days), and amber jack (aged 7 days). With the exception of the Kindai bluefin tuna, all of the fish were wild and caught with a rod, line, and reel. This was a seemingly simple dish; it was only after speaking with Chef Skenes that I understood the great amount of detail that went into each piece of sashimi to deepen the flavor.

Each fish was brushed with a white soy sauce infused with the bones from that fish, lightly roasted over the embers of the hearth.  Chef Skenes calls this “bone sauce.”  While the subtle addition of “bone sauce” is imperceptible by looking, I couldn’t help but notice a meaty depth to the fish; an umami quality that enhanced each fish’s flavor.

The flight of fish was served with a rice crackling dusted with river vegetable, shrimp floss, and perilla salt. To the side was a small bowl splashed with a “bone vinaigrette,” a vinaigrette of wild seaweed, dried fish, and citrus infused with the roasted bones of the above fish.

This was an absolutely brilliant course, both conceptually and in terms of flavor. It was essentially a tour of the textures and flavors of the sea, each fish enhanced with aging and the smokey embers of the hearth.

Brassicas - Various wild strands of the mustard family (ruby streaks mustard, malabar spinach, arrowhead and oxheart cabbage) each either poached or gently roasted over the embers of the hearth until crispy. Toasted grains add texture to the dish, including barley, emmer wheat, wild rice, and sonora wheatberry. The broth, poured tableside, was made from wild seaweed and an assortiment of dried fish including flying fish, sardine, and bonito. Drizzled throughout the dish were puffed grains to add textural contrast.  Crowning the dish was a small quail egg.

Vegetable aspic – A transparent bowl of fava beans, peas, zucchini and squash roasted over the fire of the hearth. Burried within was a crispy chip of eggplant skin and a generous wedge of buttery avocado. All of the vegetables were bound with a gelée of tomato consommé. The vegetables and their consommé sat atop a corn pudding glazed in olive oil with pimenton de la vera and basil seeds soaked in basil water.

This dish was a balance of textures and temperatures all held together by the subtle smoke and meaty quality of the tomato consommé.

The vegetable aspec was served with a salt made from prawn roe. The salt had the concentrated taste of shellfish, which also tasted really, really good on bread with butter.

Crustaceans - A dungeness crab ragôut gently warmed in crustacean butter, served with santa barbara sea urchin and wild nasturtium leaf which had been gently roasted over the fire of the hearth until a crisp.  Our waiter added a cool meyer lemon whipped cream, and later poured in a crustacean bouillon table side, made from lobster, crabs, and spot prawns. This was unbelievable.

To the right was a live spot prawn just pulled from the tank and gently poached in its own sea water. The prawn was sweet and exceptionally fresh. I could have easily eaten a hundred of them.

Pasternack’s rabbit - Rabbit meat ground with foie gras and rolled into collard greens. This was gently poached in rabbit bouillon. Also in the bowl were kidney and liver roasted over the embers with herbs.  Most of the herbs, leaves, flowers, and tips were wild and foraged, everything else came from White Crane Springs community ranch.  Our waiter poured in a reduction made from rabbit bones slowly roasted over the embers of the hearth. This was a gamey, buttery chunk of meat that was enhanced by the vegetables and the subtle depth from the hearth.

Heartbreads – Medallions of heart breads from Four Story Hill farm. These are slowly roasted over the embers with berbere spices, brown butter, and fir honey. This was a magical combination of oozy, buttery, and rich veal hypothalamus coated in sweet and crispy honey. Again, the subtle hint of smoke from the hearth really added an element of depth to this dish.

Nuvola di percora – Warm nuvola di pecora piped into a freshly baked brioche with honeycomb. This was one of the most memorable desserts I have ever tasted. Salty and velvety nuvola di pecora oozing out of a light and fluffy butter brioche coated in a layer of thin, crispy honey.

When sliced in half, the sticky honeycomb cracked in two and the warm cheese poured out of the center. This was a dynamic dish that tasted great when placed on the table piping hot, and as it cooled and the cheese began to firm.

Preserved lemon A mixture of meyer lemon cream, lemon sorbet, and candied lemon from meyer lemon preserved on Jan 27, 2011. This was a mix of temperatures and textures all held together by the brightness of the lemon. The preservation process tempered the acidity making the lemon taste sweet with a hint of bitterness, rather than overly sour.

Melon – Melon with sparkling vanilla sorbet, and shiso cake.

Popcorn ice cream - A cool and creamy sphere of buttery popcorn ice cream, nicely balanced with a dash of salt.

Candied raspberries - The natural flavor of raspberry enhanced with a thin layer of sugar. The sugar crystals also added a textural contrast to the soft raspberry. These were addictive.

Chef Joshua Skenes is onto something big. Of all the restaurants I visited in the bay area during my recent trip, this is the meal that keeps haunting me. Skenes use of the hearth as a tool for flavor intensification defines his very unique cooking style. Every course had at least one component that was touched by fire. It’s this traditional cooking that makes Skene’s food rustic, honest, and straight-forward.

I can’t wait to go back. If Chef Skenes continues on his current track, with time, his cooking can only get better.

Related Posts:

• Manresa
• Favorite Meals of 2011
• Favorite Dishes of 2011
• The French Laundry Revisited
• L2O

Perched on the second level of the luxurious Two Rodeo shopping center, Urasawa sits above some of the most famous designers in the world: Fendi, Cartier, Tiffany, Prada, Cerruti and Versace to name a few. But unlike the downstairs world of fashion and style, upstairs, flavor rules. But it’s not like the outside world is hidden; in fact, sunlight pours in through the large windows overlooking the most famous shopping street in the United States. Rather, the simplicity of the space combined with Chef Urasawa’s humility, sense of humor, and genuine good nature encourage pretense and entitlement to be left downstairs. Without a doubt, the combination of Chef Urasawa’s personality, skill, and selection of ingredients made this my best sushi meal in the United States.

Shortly after being seated Chef Urasawa introduced himself and asked Aaron and me for our names. While his soft-spoken sister Yoshi was taking our drink order he jotted them down on a piece of paper so he could address us each personally, an endearing gesture that would we certainly wouldn’t have seen at Masa most other sushi restaurants. He asked us if we had dietary restrictions or if there were fish we particularly didn’t like to which we happily explained: we eat everything. No; everything.

A few minutes later we got started with live Hokkaido botan ebi (spot prawn) with yuzu zest, shiso, and shiso flower atop a small bed of sweet daikon radish. While the placement of the small decorative flowers atop this dish may seem random, don’t be fooled — each petal was placed by Chef Urasawa with exacting precision. This was a very sweet dish, particularly because of the fresh shrimp and the shiso. The refreshing watery crunch of the daikon radish combined with the fresh shrimp’s firm chew made for a nice range of textures. I would have enjoyed a slight pinch of salt to lift the flavors of each ingredient a bit, but that would have masked the incredible natural sweetness of the shrimp.   We weren’t sure whether we should consider this dish an amuse bouche, or the first of the thirty three ”courses” that were to come.  But I guess that’s all a matter of who is counting.

While finishing the shrimp, Aaron and I began to hear small rhythmic crunches, like someone was jumping on a pile of leaves. In fact, Chef Urasawa was crunching the bones of a hamo, or king eel, a creature notorious for its abundance of tiny bones that, if improperly cut, can make the fish inedible. The eel was deep fried, marinated in a sweet and sour sauce, garnished with minced shiso and grated carrot, and served cold. The texture was meaty and firm, similar to a thick cut of turbot. The flavor was clean and refreshing; the dish lacked salting of any kind.

The next course exemplified Chef Urasawa’s modesty and devotion to seasonality: a single wedge of misu-nasu, or water eggplant, with what he called “a very special soy sauce.”  Sometimes a perfect vegetable needs neither cooking nor garnish. What an interesting texture this eggplant had: slightly more crunchy than a typical purple eggplant yet not at all starchy. We ate this with our hands which allowed us to feel the smooth, but not slimy, skin. A quick dip into the delicious soy sauce added just the right amount of salt, which worked to balance out the previous two sweeter dishes. I was tempted to ask for some more of this; but unsure of the quantity of food to come, I savored the moment and awaited what was to come.

If heaven came in a bowl, it would likely be the course that came next: a warm edamame custard with chilled Santa Barbara uni and live Botan ebi, topped with a sea of sweet ikura and garnished with miniature chives and gold leaf. Chef Urasawa insisted the gold leaf was good for the stomach, as well as visually beautiful. After the first bite Aaron and I began to laugh. This was the freshest salmon roe we had ever had: where was the salt?! Each bite was a burst of sweet nectar that made eating the sea urchin and shrimp not only incredibly flavorful, but fun! Urasawa explained that he marinates the roe himself. Not sure how he achieves this magical texture; it was as if the ikura would burst at the slighest pressure of the tongue … the “shell” was almost non-existent, like a bubble about to burst in air. The crunchy chives added textural contrast to the smooth custard. Basically, this dish had everything: sweet and salty, warm and cold, crunchy and smooth. This was dish I will likely continue to taste for a long time.

I never thought I could enjoy bouquets as gifts; but I was proven wrong. Sashimi bouquets from Urasawa are welcome anytime. Chef Urasawa served us otoro (fatty tuna) from Boston, kanpachi (yellowtail) from Toyama, and tai (red snapper) from Kyushu. Slices of these three fish sat among a lovingly prepared arrangement of fresh flowers, assorted seaweeds and freshly grated wasabi. This was all placed upon a hand-carved solid block of ice that Chef Urasawa explains he carves himself every morning. Both functional and beautiful, the block of ice resembled a rotating star. The white frosting around the ice made it look like origami from afar yet the temperature told otherwise. Butter-soft tuna was the first bite; the fat gently melted as it warmed in my mouth. The red snapper was surprisingly light. But the highlight was undoubtably the kanpachi, whose texture was in between crunchy and smooth, Aaron put down his chopsticks for a moment (a rare occurrence) and exclaimed “Oh god” — a sure sign of enjoyment.

Chef Urasawa’s dobin mushi came next, a warm therapeutic soup of matsutake mushroom, botan ebi, uni, tai, and ginko nut to contrast the cold sashimi we’d just eaten. This was served in a clay tea kettle with a cup so that all the ingredients, particularly the broth, could be enjoyed a bit at a time. Aaron sat back and waited for me to be the idiot to burn my tongue; this was hot. I was very happy with my bite of the red snapper which somehow neither fell apart nor became firm after sitting in this broth. The ebi’s firmness increased and became similar to a miniature lobster tail. There was also a wedge of yuzu bathing in the broth to add a citrus element to the flavor… a really nice addition to brighten things up. Two cups of the broth was enough for me; but a glance at Aaron’s kettle revealed a light blue pattern at the bottom, only visible when empty. I wish there had been some more gingko nuts… after marinating in the teapot they became chewy, aromatic and delicious.

Next came two small slices of lightly battered tender northern California awabi (abalone). Urasawa explained that he boils the abalone in sake and soy sauce for over six hours before deep frying them — this is how he gets the texture so succulent. The abalone was served on tempura paper with a small wedge of yuzu to cut through the oily mouthfeel. I tried to keep this in my mouth for as long as possible, though the amazing tenderness wasn’t making that easy. It was absolutely delicious — salt, citrus, brine all at the same time — and I didn’t want it to end. I tried to distract Aaron by telling him that his idol favorite chef David Kinch had just walked in; but he wisely ate his abalone before looking. Maybe next time.

Our waitress placed two hot stones in front of us with several cuts of grade A-5 Kobe beef. There was no pedantic instruction on how to use the stone, or a lesson on “how things are done here;” rather, Chef Urasawa’s sister quietly and lovingly cooked each slice for us, lifting it from the hot stuff at just the right time. The room filled with the mouthwatering aroma of smoking fat. The stone was hot enough that it locked in the moisture of the meat while nicely searing the edges. A bite of this meat revealed its true secret: tender enough to you know it is meat yet subtle, melting and juicy enough that you know it has to be Kobe. When I asked Chef Urasawa what makes this Kobe beef so tender compared to others, he explained that, “nice people make good beef.” A statement that not only reflects his contageous positive outlook on cooking but his desire to follow the ingredients from his kitchen all the way back to the source: the rancher is a close friend of his.

Next came a miniature shabu-shabu of ebi (shrimp), hamo (king eel), Kobe beef, foie gras, and hotate gai (scallop). The foie gras was dropped into the hot broth first since it takes the longest to cook through. It’s also the fattiest and the deposited an amazing richness that enhanced the broth.  After the foie went in, the hamo, scallop, shrimp, and fatty beef each took turns jumping into the pool. When ready, each slice of meat and fish was removed from the boiling broth held in a thick paper bowl and placed in a small bath of vinegar, soy sauce ,and scallion to cool. I found the scallop a little bland in flavor but with an interesting texture. The hamo became surprisingly firm when cooked this way, and its rough edges became more pronounced. The foie gras was smooth and silky. The beef was sliced fairly thinly in order to cook quickly, and as such it was not quite so juicy as the previous course. But by now little bubbles of unbelievably flavorful fat popped up around the surface of the broth, and Aaron and I were given spoons to finish every last drop of this liquid gold that had now collected flavors of foie gras, kobe beef, scallop, eel, and shrimp.

To accompany the sushi I ordered a half bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru from Abbaye de Morgeot. This slightly acidic and bright wine left a slight trace of vaseline on the tongue. The wine was light enough so as not to compete against the subtle flavors of sushi to come. A young girl to our right asked Chef Urasawa if it would be possible to leave out the wasabi (Aaron learned his lesson last time). He responded that he would be happy to leave out the wasabi; but suggested that she try it first since it was freshly grated and not so poignant as powdered substitutes. She tasted it and chose to leave it on.  A great chef, and a great role model to future generations, this guy.

Our assortiment of sushi emphasized seasonal fish. In order we had: otoro, kanpachi, grilled otoro, aji, tai, maguro, shima aji, ika, shitake mushroom, kohada, uni, mirugai, abalone from Chiba prefecture, kuruma ebi, grilled pike mackerel from Hokkaido, negitoro, unagi, and tamago. Despite being eighteen courses, the smaller portioning of rice (180 grains/piece, he said) made it all incredibly enjoyable.

The kanpachi made another appearance, thankfully, with its chewy crunch — perhaps this unique, but welcome, texture is a factor of the season. I have only been to two other places in my life that serve ika (squid) like this: Kozue at the Park Hyatt Hotel in Tokyo, and Masa in New York. I’m not sure what makes this consistency so chewy; but it is absolutely my favorite sea creature to eat raw. It could be its ice cold temperature or the knife scores realized by expert chefs such as Chef Urasawa. Whatever it is, it is unlike any other squid I have tasted outside of those two locations.

While we were finishing up the giant clam we saw Chef Urasawa’s brother-in-law beginning to prepare the live kuruma ebi (tiger prawn). And by prepare, I mean behead. I became aware that those shrimp needed to be on my plate ASAP before they die a moment of respect and awareness was in order at this stark reminder of the circle of life. They were lightly brushed with a sauce made from the shrimp brains — no part of the creature was wasted.  And every part was utterly delicious.

The giant collection of Santa Barbara sea urchin roe firmly overflowed the edge of the rice. Our friend dining next to us from Refined Palate summed it up nicely: “can you just inject the uni into my veins?” With only one bite, this was a tease. An utterly delicious tease.  The tamago was also particularly interesting with a subtle sweetness and a texture more like pound cake than egg.  ”The most important test of a sushi chef”, Chef Urasawa told us, is the tamago.  If that’s the case, he passed with flying colors.

Dessert was to follow the sushi, an asian pear gelée with umeboshi (pickled plum) and goji berries. The gelée had a smooth but mildly grainy texture on the tongue that immediately gave it away as pear. This dish was sweet by Japanese standards, but it wasn’t excessive — the sour umeboshi prevented the dish from becoming cloying. The gelée melted in my mouth rather than breaking apart. The mix of sweet and sour was well-balanced, making this simple dessert engaging and pleasurable.

My favorite dessert of the evening came next, black sesame ice cream with red bean paste. It’s hard to describe this dessert as ice cream since the texture was so creamy it almost didn’t want to melt. It was more like an thick, cold, black sesame butter that was so nutty, the fragrance of sesame could be detected from several feet away. A small dollop of red bean paste rested on top adding a coarse contrast to the smooth ice cream. This dish was served with warm matcha green tea, whose subtle bitterness synched in harmony with the sesame’s sweetness. This was one of the finest drink-dessert pairings I had ever had. This was so good, in fact, that it pushed me over the decorum edge: I asked for another round. Unfortunately they had run out, but we were very kindly given some assorted wedges of mochi ice cream and very hot toasted houji tea, instead. The sad realization had come: this was the end of the meal.

Chef Urasawa prepared a meal that can easily stand against some of the finest French and New American dining establishments in the country. However it was only afterwards when I realized just how ridiculous that really is. Chef Urasawa does not have a huge kitchen brigade — this is a one man show. And to prepare such unique and delicious meals (not to mention the worldwide acclaim he receives) without letting it get to his head is truly a special quality of the highest regard. Chef Urasawa responded with a gleaming smile to all of our questions no matter how trite. He encouraged the use of cameras and even held up some fish for us. He somehow got complete strangers talking to each other like close friends after just a few courses. I have never felt so comfortable in a place with this quality of food before.

Comparing Urasawa to Masa is not such an easy task. Objectively, if all external variables are removed, the quality of food is nearly identical. Both Masa and Urasawa serve the freshest most flavorful sushi in the country. However, when considering warmth, comfort, presentation, and enjoyment of the experience of a whole, Urasawa is the clear winner. It was just so enjoyable to eat there.

I anxiously await the next opportunity to return… like, tomorrow.

Related Posts:

• Sushi Kanesaka
• Kyubei, Ginza
• Sukiyabashi Jiro
• Manresa
• Quique Dacosta Revisited