Jean Georges

Last year, during my (literally) one day in the United States, I met up with my friend Andrew for lunch. He was in charge, and the only information I had about that fateful lunch was that I was commanded to wear a skirt. I arrived in Columbus circle; standing in that hectic center circle where all the cars whir past you without a second thought, it's hard to imagine any sort of serenity. But when Andrew led me into Jean Georges, I forgot all about the honking and the running and the swirling lights of Columbus Circle. In the tastefully gray themed dining room, you sit in a room of windows. The yellow taxis are just outside, but once you're inside that elegant world, it's hard to believe they're real.

Being students, Andrew and I could only go to Jean Georges for the surprisingly affordable lunch (fixed price of $25 for lunch!), but when I arrived in New York spontaneously yesterday, I decided to beg my father (a little more settled in his bank account) to treat me. He lovingly agreed, and only 30 minutes after arriving from New Haven, I was ushered into that graceful world I so fondly remembered. I would like to thank my father right now- just so it's clear- I'm very grateful. All the mockery of him that I'm about to record is true, but I say it with all the thankfulness in the world.

My dad was not prepared for the meal that was about to happen to him. I say "about to happen to him" because the minute you enter Jean Georges, you must abdicate control. Let your mind be under the rule of your stomach, and your desires be in the backseat to the chef's established genius. My dad didn't know the protocol. Within the first minute he had already broken a cardinal rule: arriving without a sport coat. Then, he didn't order wine. Next mistake: he asked to replace one of the pre-set courses for another. Doesn't he understand that the courses have been created laboriously with certain themes and orders in mind? I'm surprised that they didn't throw him out then and there. And then- adding insult to injury- his camera's flash went off after every course, disrupting the beauty of the fading light streaming through the glass walls. I can't really complain about that one- the pictures were for me. But still. Tsk Tsk.

We decided to each order one of the tasting menus, so we could have as many courses as possible. The two menus were different, but each course complemented the other meal's course so that two diners are able to have a similar experience. Andrew taught me that when you eat with someone else, it's always best to order the same thing so that you can share the experience. After all, eating is about pleasure, and sharing that pleasure with someone else is all part of the meal's glory. Jean Georges obviously understood this, but also understood that diners have different preferences. The two pre-set meals were able to reconcile these two conflicting perspectives, which only furthers my theory that Jean Georges is a genius.

Of course my dad messed the whole thing up by replacing a course with foie gras, but the chef was able to do his best to keep some semblance of respect for his plan. For that I give him a standing ovation.

The other thing that sets Jean Georges apart from other restaurants is the service. Each time a course was served, two separate waiters brought over each one of our dishes. The dishes were covered, and the waiters made eye contact in order to lift the cover at the same moment. The sauces were poured slowly and carefully, always artistically arranged on our plates. Our bread crumbs were cleared after every course (the table’s cleanness added to the restaurant’s stark décor- white plates, glass walls, grey chairs…) Every dish was explained to us, every question answered, every need met. When the waiter noticed my note taking, he brought over a copy of the menu for me, just so I would know the names of every dish.

The star of the evening (apart from the food, of course) was our main waiter. He made us feel like any request was manageable. He came over to explain cooking processes, inner workings of the restaurant, the back story of dishes, anything we asked. I admired his position in the restaurant, so he told me how he was hired, what drew him to Jean Georges, how to get involved in the dining world. He described the process of working your way up as an “intricate ballet”, where people move through different stages of food service as they gain experience and fame. You have to be known to be chosen to work at Jean Georges though, it’s not the kind of restaurant where people go to try it out. He noted his own enthusiasm as a deciding factor in his success. That made me feel better- I’m the model of food enthusiasm. Um hello! Pick me! Pick me!

And now on to the food.


As is typical of these fancy restaurants, we were first served an amuse bouche. Although this amuse bouche was anything but typical. Three one-biters on a plate, to be eaten in the order the chef suggests. First, quail egg with asparagus. Quail egg is… divine. I chose the word divine because it really is: delicate and smooth yet still a strong presence, rich but light. Slivers of asparagus on top for an added splurge of taste. I would never have eaten quail egg spontaneously anywhere else, but there’s no point of being scared of anything at Jean Georges. Next was grapefruit with shredded pecorino cheese. The grapefruit was subtle, and the citrus was a good contrast to the strength of the cheese. And last was hot miso soup with radish and miso foam (I love the idea of adding foam to food. Cooking is just chemistry, after all, and foam takes it to another level. Just showing what you can do). It was thicker than the miso soups I usually have, but a good end to the lightness of the two other bites. I would have preferred if the three items had been placed on the plate in the order I was supposed to eat them, but I’m not one to question.

The first course was egg caviar for me, and sashimi of madai for my dad. We were both supposed to have egg-caviar dishes, but my dad’s request for foie gras interrupted the prescribed order. I had to dip my tiny spoon down past caviar and foam into the egg innards. Every spoonful had different proportions of the ingredients, so it was exciting with every bite. My dad’s sashimi was light and fresh, covered is Muscat grapes and an herbal emulsion sauce. Not sweet but not salty, the perfect combination.


Next came the foie gras for my dad- covered in brown bread croutons and grapefruit. I love the idea of citrus with the fatty liver. it makes perfect sense to offset the smooth fat with the strength of a citrus fruit. And then the crunch of the croutons contrasted them both. My dad was thrilled. I had scallops with carmelized cauliflower on top, in a sauce that I think tasted like mustard. This might have been my favorite course of the night. Especially after the scallops I ate in France, I completely appreciated how good these were. They weren’t chewy, these scallops were thin and light. Also the cauliflower on top was perfect. Cauliflower doesn’t have a strong taste on its own, in my opinion, and went really well with the scallops and the sauce.


After this interlude, the original menu was back on track. I call this course the cream course. My dad had asparagus in a creamy mushroom sauce, and I had young garlic soup with frog legs. FROG LEGS! I just… did it. These looked like a smaller version of fried chicken and I was told to eat with my hands, so they weren’t intimidating. And I was told to dip in the soup, so I wasn’t worried about not liking the taste. And you know what? Not so bad. Again, I wouldn’t have tried them anywhere else but I trust Jean Georges. And now I can attest to having tried the full French trifecta of snails, oysters and frog legs. I am the man.




Also- just because it’s Jean Georges- I was provided with a finger bowl after the frog legs to clean up. Not that I considered myself dirty at all! Having the aftertaste of Jean Georges frog legs and garlic soup is not the worst thing to have on your fingers. But the water was warm, with lemon and flower petals. Ahh… Beauty.


Next came the fish course, where my dad got black bass with caramelized radishes (really good) and I got turbot with Jean George’s famous sauce. The sauce was the winner; apparently, this sauce was the reason our waiter decided Jean Georges was all it’s famed to be. The sauce is 2/3 carrot, 1/3 celery and onion reduction with chicken broth and white wine. It was a complete accident! (A GREAT ACCIDENT) and for a while didn’t even have a real name because it was just… stumbled upon. But now it’s a Jean Georges classic, one of his most well known achievements. I soaked up every drop with my bread, and it was the part of the meal we talked about most after we left. I would try to make it at home, but I’ll never be able to.

When the waiter explained the sauce to us was the moment when I really appreciated the restaurant. The food came out so quickly and flawlessly, so it was easy to forget the work and love that goes into making everything. But when the waiter explained the process, I remembered the effort that goes into creating the dishes, preparing the dishes, presenting the dishes. These feats should be commended and revered.


I was already starting to get full but I had a long way to go. The lobsters arrived next- mine with lemongrass and fenugreek sauce, dad’s with herb ravioli and gruyere broth. We liked this course, but it wasn’t our favorites. Lobsters are intense, really meaty, and too much in the context of everything else we were eating.


Time for the main course! My dad had rack of lamb with fava bean puree, and I had squab. Embarrassingly, we had to ask what squab is; it’s pigeon. Pigeon is soft inside, and it tastes fatty. Eating it, you can’t forget you’re eating meat. The best part was the side dish: foie gras sitting atop a corn pancake. I love corn cakes. I love love love love corn cakes. I was happy. But full. And ready to explode.


Not that I would have even considered skipping dessert. We were running late for theatre at this point, so they offered us to leave and come back for dessert after the show. Ahh Jean Georges, so accommodating. But we wanted it… NOW. The way dessert works at Jean Georges is like this: you choose a category (our choices being winter, citrus, apple or chocolate) and then you are given tasting bites of four desserts in that category. I had chocolate, which meant: a warm chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, chocolate gnocchi with nuts, aerated chocolate cake and a shot of chocolate egg cream. The best was the chocolate cake, which gooed warm chocolate fudge on the inside. My dad had the citrus selection, which I think wasn’t as good. It had: choclate poppy seed cake, noodles with tangerine and iced limonello, white chocolate yogurt lollipop, and a shot of blood orange sprizter.

But that’s not the best part. Dessert at Jean Georges ends with a selection of chocolates, gooey candies (lychee and blood orange), macaroons of different flavors and… marshmallows. Homemade, soft, delectable, and cut right in front of you so you know its fresh. We had lemon, vanilla and cinnamon varieties. The cinnamon blew me away. It was the perfect finish.



My meal started with quail egg and ended with cinnamon marshmallows. I was literally on a journey. The meal built up, crescendo-ed and denouement-ed just like a beautifully composed symphony. Except this was for my tongue, which I appreciated more.