Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Molto Mario: Please Forgive Me

So it has taken me over a week to write this blog and I want to apologize to any loyal readers for the delay. This blog needed to be written seconds after the experience, but I felt that, emotionally, I wasn't ready until now.

Last Friday (2 Fridays ago) my boyfriend took me to Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich's new restaurant Del Posto. We had seen a show on the Food Network about the building and opening of Del Posto, and we both looked forward to seeing if Mario had succeeded in opening a 5 star Italian restaurant. Del Posto is located on the uberly-trendy West Side of Manhattan in the Meat Packing District. The restaurant is in one of those great converted factories that has a very industrial feel to it. The restaurant is also in (what I have coined as) "Celebrity Chef Central" as Masaharu Morimoto's restaurant is right across the street.

So on this once in this month experience (because seriously, you say it is a special occasion, or a once in a lifetime opportunity but that, I think, is just rhetoric for a New Yorker) we dined at one of the most expensive New York City restaurants for my birthday. For the occasion, I wore a new summer dress, a new Celine sandal and my culinary critic's hat.

From the moment we walked into Del Posto I was a critic. Even though I watched the Food Network's show on the making of this venture and I had an idea of what the restaurant was supposed to look like, I was initially stunned by the architecture and interior design of Del Posto. The ceiling was skyscraper tall, Romanesque columns everywhere, marble floors, marble stairs, marble, marble, marble. For a brief moment I thought I walked into one of those gawdy catering halls/wedding palaces somewhere in mid-Long Island. Come on, Mario, you can do better than this...you are situated in the heart of the trendy Meat Packing District…take advantage of the space and keep the industrial integrity of his building. At first, I thought the restaurant's theme should have mirrored its neighborhood – industrial, hard, exposed piping, stainless steel fixtures, but as you will soon find out, I had a change of heart.

The food, albeit spectacular, was also on my critical hit list. George (my boyfriend) and I completely splurged and we both ordered the 10 course Del Posto tasking menu. Our first dish (a cured meat medley) was palately pleasing. The second course – not so much. The second course of this eating extravaganza was a roasted summer vegetable insalate with fresh ricotta. First, let me say, that the presentation of each course achieved levels of aesthetic perfection I did not know existed. There wasn't a piece of out of place parsley, a meandering morel, or a sporadic spot of sauce. Everything was perfectly placed on every dish. As I do believe that presentation embodies much of the food's taste, I was surprised that this exquisitely crafted summer vegetable insalate had less of a summer vegetable taste and more of a parsley taste. The parsley was overpowering. I felt that with every bite, the parsley was cleansing my palate and I wasn't able to taste the flavors of the summer squash, peppers and more importantly, the ricotta.

The fourth dish (I think) was perch over truffled green beans. Even though the descriptions of each course had my mouth watering like a fire hose, I was especially excited about this fourth course. I love truffles. LOVE TRUFFLES. In fact, I will say that the smell of truffle oil is by far one of the most sexiest and sensual smells I know. Any man brave enough to wear truffle oil as cologne would make me one happy woman! I digress, but perhaps a blog dedicated to truffles is now in order.

Okay, so the highly anticipated perch and truffled green beans arrived and I took a forkful of green beans and tasted no truffle. Mario, you hathe forsaketh me… There appeared to be shaved mushrooms in the dish, but they weren't truffles. I will concede that my knowledge on the various fungi is limited, and perhaps there are flavorless/scentless truffles out there, but the dish just wasn't as good without the strong sensual flavor of the truffle I know.

In the interest of brevity, I will forgo a detailed account of each and every course and conclude by saying this. Del Posto was by far, hands down, no questions asked, the best dining and culinary experience I have ever had. I may have been wearing my critic's hat during the entire 10 courses, but my criticism was concededly pedantic.

It has taken me over a week to write this entry because Mario's sense of perfection far exceeded my novice tongue. Certainly, there was not too much parsley in my roasted summer vegetable insalate – it was probably meant to be a main ingredient, not the garnish I thought it should be. As far as the design and style of the restaurant goes, I retract the trailer trash label I gave it earlier and will say that it is precisely appropriate. The style, in all its Romanesque flare, is the perfect compliment to Mario's exquisite menu. I was wrong and Mario, my critic's hat has been apologetically removed.

Until next time…

2 Comments:

At 10:07 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Larisa (and George, the boyfriend) -- I am a trufle oil-wearing Queensian, of the Rockaway Beach fare, and have too visited Del Posto. The very reason why the architecture works is because it is a piece of Roma in the world's greatest city. Recently, I completed an exquisite reading of the legend of Hannibal as he crossed the Alps to challenge Scipio, the Elder, and he Roman legions. I remember the minutae of the details of the story, especially the grandeur of Rome. That is memorable. When you go to the Meatpacking, what do you expect to find? The uber-hot exposed piping and the minimalist's expression of art. Boring! La extravanganza of this project will surely make it memorable. As for the food, well, I don't quite remember it, which means it was pretty delish. So ease up on the paisan, and recommend to all your friends, especially the Wall Street types, to spend some good paper and cheddar on a perfectly assembled piece of focaccia e ricotta. Buona sera.

 
At 10:10 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Larisa (and George, the boyfriend) -- I am a trufle oil-wearing Queensian, of the Rockaway Beach variety, and have too visited Del Posto. The very reason why the architecture works is because it is a piece of Roma in the world's greatest city. Recently, I completed an exquisite reading of the legend of Hannibal as he crossed the Alps to challenge Scipio, the Elder, and his Roman legions in the battle to control the western Mediterranean. I remember the minutae of the details of the story, especially the grandeur of Rome. That is memorable. When you go to the Meatpacking, what do you expect to find? The uber-hot exposed piping and the minimalist's expression of art. Boring! La extravanganza of this project will surely make it memorable. As for the food, well, I don't quite remember it, which means it was pretty delish. So ease up on the paisan, and recommend to all your friends, especially the Wall Street types, to spend some good paper and cheddar on a perfectly assembled piece of focaccia e ricotta. Buona sera.

 

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