Eleven Madison Park

• 11 Madison Avenue
• New York
• Official Website

In a city with an endless supply of restaurants to explore, it is sometimes too easy to overlook the latest openings in favor of one’s tried-and-true favorites. I had been to Eleven Madison Park a couple of years ago, when a different chef was in the kitchen. That meal didn’t exactly leave me clamoring for a return visit. But then things changed. Chef Daniel Humm took over the kitchen back in early February 2006. He came from Campton Place, and most reports seemed to suggest that San Francisco’s loss had been New York’s gain. Clearly, this was a restaurant that now warranted a second look. After this meal, I wondered why I had waited so long to give it one.The three of us arrived just in time for our Thursday night reservation to find the restaurant almost full. I neither know nor care enough to estimate the number of seats the restaurant has, but it is certainly no small place. Many people love the cavernous, art deco interior with its 35-foot ceilings. Others claim that a cold feeling comes from dining in a space as wide open as this former bank. I fall somewhere in between. The room certainly does have its charms, but I will concede that the openness can be a bit overwhelming.

We were shown to our table, and presented with menus. As we are wont to do, we quickly chose the tasting menu. In this case, the elegantly titled Gourmande Menu, eleven courses preceded by hors d’oeuvres and followed by mignardises. Just seconds after we had made our selection, we received a small dish of warm gougeres. They had a light, puffy texture with a creamy Mornay sauce on the inside. The warmth really brought out the nutty aroma of Gruyere cheese, as well.

Next came an array of hors d’oeuvres. The goat cheese croquant had a light, almost marshmallow-like goat cheese filling sandwiched between two parmesan crisps. Slightly tangy, but still a subtle flavor overall. The hamachi tartare was fenced by a thin layer of sliced cucumber, and topped by wasabi-spiked tobiko. This was a nicely balanced bite, the wasabi-flavored tobiko adding a nice top-note to what would otherwise be very simple and clean flavors from the fish and the cucumber. The sweetbread cornet was quite tasty. The exterior was cripsy, the interior that smooth and creamy as the sweetbreads were cooked beautifully. I feel like this would make a great bar snack, and I mean that as a compliment. Our unanimous favorite among the bunch, though, was the foie gras and black truffle macaron. Okay, so maybe we’re a bit biased, as we happen to consider macarons one of France’s greatest contributions to mankind. But still. A delicate crunch on the outside gave way to an ultra-creamy interior of foie gras mousse, all infused with the wonderful aroma of truffles. It tasted as good as it sounds, which is to say, wonderful.

Next came the bread service. The selections were whole wheat, baguette, and sourdough, all sourced from Tom Cat Bakery, we were told. I managed (as usual) to have one of each type during the course of the meal. While the sourdough and baguette were both quite pleasant, the whole wheat stole the show. It was phenomenal. The butter, too, was nice, and thankfully served at room temperature as it should be.

The first proper course was Royal Sterling Caviar — Veloute of Smoked Columbia River Sturgeon. Not a huge fan of smoked sturgeon when unaccompanied by a bagel, the description of this dish didn’t really thrill me. This was even compounded by the fact that I knew what dish this had only recently replaced: “Fantasy of Eggs”, egg yolk cooked in the shell with sea urchin and cauliflower foams and caviar. We had actually asked if it might be possible for them to prepare that particular dish, but they claimed sea urchin was no longer in season (as for the validity of that, I really have no clue). Nevertheless, this dish turned out to be a nice start. The sturgeon was only lightly smoked, so as to neither overwhelm nor compete too much with the caviar. The caviar was fresh, briny, and bright tasting. Providing a subtle middle-ground for these flavors to meet was a delicious and creamy cauliflower custard.

Back on land with the next course, we moved on to the Provence Asparagus — Cappuccino with Oregon Morels and Quail Eggs. Certainly reminiscent of the much-lauded sweet pea cappuccino, sort of a signature EMP dish from the pre-Humm days. This was lovely and, as you can see, beautifully presented. The layers of asparagus and morels were delicious, the taste of springtime in a glass. The foam above this was frothy yet substantial and full of flavor. And the quail egg resting on top brought a nice richness that tied everything together nicely.

Next up, we had the California Strawberry — Gazpacho with Hawaiian Prawns and Guanciale. Vibrantly colorful and wonderfully refreshing. The salty, porky guanciale kept the natural sweetness of the strawberries, tomatoes and prawns in check. This was nicely seasoned as well, with just a slight peppery spice lingering in the back of your throat after each spoonful. Well-balanced flavors, overall.

We then moved on to the “Elevages Perigord” Foie Gras — Torchon with Venezuelan Cocoa and Rhubarb. Alongside the silky-smooth torchon, we were each served a round slice of brioche marbled with cocoa in the same beautiful way as the foie gras. Certainly any well-prepared slab of goose liver and brioche toast will put a smile on my face, but I found this presentation to be particularly nice. I didn’t think the pairing of the sweet-tart rhubarb with the foie gras worked very well, though. As I ate this course, I found myself gradually brushing the thin veil of rhubard off to the side and enjoying the liver on its own. Certainly a well-prepared slab of foie gras, but an unfortunate flavor combination, I thought.

This minor gripe was quickly forgotten with the next dish, though. The Scottish Salmon — “Mi Cuit” with Florence Fennel and Meyer Lemon Confit was phenomenal. Cooked sous vide, the texture of the fish was unreal. Tender, flaky and moist inside, with a paper-thin breaded crust on top. A sliver of crisp skin provided a nice crowning touch and another contrasting texture. The combination of fennel and meyer lemon was bright and refreshing, the citrus and anise flavor notes complementing the fish very nicely. Definitely a knockout, and easily the best dish of the meal up to that point.

After that dish came the Nova Scotia Lobster — Slow Cooked with Garden Peas, Carrots and Coconut. A layer of frothy sweet pea soup gave way to generous chunks of tender lobster and a carrot soup with the lovely scent of coconut. I thought this last flavor element was a particularly nice touch. Another enjoyable dish, and I was beginning to really appreciate Chef Humm’s knack for providing such a refreshing sequence of courses that felt just right on this spring evening.

Next we moved on to something much richer, with the Four Story Hill “Ris de Veau” — Sauteed with Celery and Perigord Truffles. Ah, the ubiquitous practice of listing the name of the purveyor in the menu description. But hey, at least he has chosen a good one. The sweetbreads from these milk-fed calves had a creamy texture and rich flavor. Certainly a striking departure from some of the lighter dishes we’d been served that evening. The lightly breaded, sauteed sweetbreads sat atop a creamy celery root puree and were dressed with a nicely aromatic black truffle sauce. My friends did not much care for this course (of course, not everyone cares for sweetbreads), but I found it to be pretty nice, if not quite as nuanced as some of the other dishes.

Then the show-stopper: Vermont Farm Suckling Pig — Confit with Cipollini Onions, Dried Plum Chutney and Five Spice Jus. Easily the best dish of the night, and frankly, one of the best I’ve had this year. A (very) slow-roasted chunk of pork was pulled, then compressed under a layer of crispy pork skin. The meat was so unbelievably moist that adjectives fail me; it fell apart into a juicy strands of heaven with the slightest movement of the fork. The top layer was a wonderful contrast — a crispy, salty crown. The remarkable thing about the meat was the way it felt on the tongue. There was the rich, full flavors of fat and meat, but none of the greasy mouthfeel that so often accompanies these sensations. The dried plum chutney, the five spice, the caramelized cipollini and the green onion all complemented the pork so well, too. Just a remarkable dish, all the way around. I should also mention that at this point, we asked our waitress if it might be possible to have a second round of the foie gras and truffle macarons we’d had at the meal’s beginning. She happily obliged, returning a couple of minutes later with an additional macaron for each of us. Very nice.

Transitioning toward the sweeter end of the meal now, it was time for cheese. The Lynnhaven “Chèvre Frais” — Heirloom Beets, Laudemio Olive Oil and Fleur de Sel was a refreshing presentation for what is often a course comprising nothing more than wedge of a couple of cheeses and some bread. The goat cheese had a wonderfully smooth texture, with a delicious creamy and only slightly tangy flavor. It was presented in the form of a ring, creating a basin for a pool of fruity, slightly spicy Tuscan olive oil. Resting atop the goat cheese were small rounds of red, orange, and yellow beets, adding their lovely earthy-sweet flavor. We were also each presented with a small dish of fleur de sel and fresh cracked peppercorns to season the cheese to our own taste. For me, just a few coarse crystals of salt added a wonderful crunch and lifted the flavors in the dish even higher. I definitely enjoyed this course.

Our first dessert was Pistachio — Macaron with Ruby Grapefruit and Strawberries. Did I mention that I love macarons? Well, I do, and I also happen to love pistachio. At first I worried the bitterness of the grapefruit might drown out the sweetness of the strawberries and the pistachio macaron, but I found this to be a very well-balanced dish. A vanilla-bean spiked zabaglione-like custard provided the glue to hold the the slices of fresh strawberry and grapefruit to the macaron. A single candied edible flower petal was the crowning touch. I had read of some people’s disappointment with the desserts at EMP, but as far as I was concerned, they had started out on a very good note that night.

I was the only one among the three of us who chose to stick with the second dessert listed on the menu, Bittersweet Chocolate — Moelleux with Passion Fruit Bourbon Sour. Granted, this sort of molten chocolate cake has been done again and again and again. But the passion fruit bourbon sour sounded interesting, so I was game to give it a shot. I found the texture of the cake to be just a tad dry and crumbly around the outer layers, but the inside was nice and moist, and the bittersweet chocolate flavor was pleasant. The passion fruit bourbon sour, though, I quite enjoyed. In the bottom of the glass was a passion fruit gelee; the middle was a sort of passion fruit custard; and topping it all off was a sort of passion fruit cream. The different levels of sweetness and creaminess really created a nice range of both texture and flavor as you dug your way to the bottom.

Adam and our friend who joined us that evening both chose to replace the bittersweet chocolate dessert with something else that caught their eye on the dessert menu: Asian Pear — Slow Cooked with “Streusel-Croquante” and Rooibos Tea Sorbet. Their curiosity was punished in this case, as they both agreed (and I concurred) that this was just not a successful dish at all. The pear was bland and slightly mealy. The tea sorbet tasted of over-steeped tea, and that is certainly not a complement. Even the pleasant texture contrast provided by the tasty streusel on which the sorbet rested was not enough to save this dish. After one or two bites, they each cut their losses and politely asked if they might possibly try something else instead.

Our very nice waitress’ suggestion was the Gianduja Chocolate — Mille-Feuille with Cocoa Nibs, Coffee and Salted Peanuts. Aside from the coffee and coffee foam in the glass, which seemed somewhat extraneous, we all agreed this was the best of the three desserts. The texture of the gianduja was wonderful, kind of like an ultra-creamy haute version of a Kit-Kat with tiny, crispy little bits throughout. The salted peanut chunks and the salted peanut cream were nice touches as well. There is something about salt and chocolate that just plain works for me.

The Mignardises consisted of warm beignets, cold chocolate-covered peanut cream sandwiches, and vanilla macarons, all playfully presented on sticks in a small pot of cocoa nib “soil”. My favorite of the three was (surprise!) the macaron, with its thin crispy shell and creamy vanilla-bean cream filling, but all were pretty good. And just in case all these sweets had not been enough, we were presented with small panettone-sized cherry brioches. These made a nice snack on the subway ride home. I mean, uh, a nice breakfast…the next morning…Yeah, that’s it.

It’s rare to have a tasting menu this long that delivers consistently across the board. But this meal’s few misses were more than made up for its many hits. The salmon and the suckling pig, in particular, put Chef Humm firmly on my radar as one of NYC’s great young talents to watch over the next several years. He has single-handedly taken what was an almost-stodgy restaurant into what is frankly one of the most exciting places in the city to eat right now, in my opinion. I look forward to my next visit to see just how brightly this star will continue to shine.