Keith Levenberg
Keith Levenberg
Finally got a chance to check out the new Veritas under Chef Gregory Pugin. The word must already be out since even on a weekday it's gotten harder to get a table than it's been in years, but I'm pretty sure this is the next N.Y. star chef sensation that you'll be completely sick of hearing about by this time next year. He had me as soon as the frogs' legs came accompanied with a "fingerbowl" so you could pick 'em up and instantly de-grease your hands! Not since the invention of the public restroom that enables you to do your business, flush, wash your hands, and open the door without actually touching anything has my heart been so gladdened.
It doesn't come cheap with the 6-course tasting menu at $155, but they don't skimp on the pricey ingredients (oscetra caviar, foie gras, Wagyu beef) and while it's not at the level of what Humm's doing now at Eleven Madison (where the 11 courses are "only" $145!) it's pretty damn close to what Humm was doing when he first arrived. So, there should be even greater things to come. The wine list ain't too shabby either.
Started with Domaine Michel Niellon 1989 Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru "Les Vergers" and Louis Jadot 1990 Chevalier-Montrachet "Les Demoiselles." There's an exceptional purity to the lemon/lime flavors in the Niellon, tasting far younger than its age and so bright and fresh it'd make a serviceable Sprite substitute except that it's also a pretty serious wine, with a chalky crushed-pebble sensation that adds dimension and texture to the otherwise gelatinous, creamy fruit filling.
The Demoiselles is rich and butterscotchy, almost more Batard than Chevalier to me, and in comparison to the purer and less bassy Niellon this legendary grand cru is actually upstaged. Until the lobster comes along, and like the turn of a key unlocks the true personality and hidden depths here, rendering the wine at least a decade fresher and many ticks on the spectrum brighter in fruit complexion, the jammy finish replaced by a cleansing chalk-spackled minerality that turns as briny as a rush of ocean water. Credit the wine but also credit the critter. Park Smith happened to be sitting next to me at the bar and said of the new chef, "He taught us a new way to make lobster." It's not often that a fancy chef can improve on a broiled lobster with Ritz crackers in a New England lobster shack, but this one does.
Fortunately the foie gras (poached in red wine) and Dover sole are designed to be red-wine dishes, so there's no pressure to turn to Sauternes in the middle of the meal and we can go straight to some awesome reds, featuring Domaine Mo-Camuzet 1985 Vosne-Romane 1er Cru Les Chaumes and Domaine Mo-Camuzet 1990 Vosne-Romane 1er Cru Aux Brules. Henri Jayer is reputed to have made Mo-Camuzet's 1985s, and this Chaumes amply demonstrates a Midas touch, the first Chaumes I've ever had that really does resemble its fancy neighbors uphill. Its enticing aromatics of gingerbread cookie dough and billowing sweetness and flesh on the palate remind me more than anything of Montille's incredible "Christiane" though of course with the benefit of two decades' aging to turn the texture even more graceful and silken.
The Brules is a muscle car in comparison. More exuberant than the '91 vintage of this wine and also more acidic -- in fact it started out so disjointed I was thinking it must have been acidified, but a few minutes in a decanter pulled it together more seamlessly. Mo's Brules just might be one of the ultimate examples of Vosne-Romane in existence. With a crunchier red-fruit profile than the Chaumes preceding it, this has the intoxicating Arabian spice-bazaar aromatics so classic to the commune driven by a deep, rumbling torque that's reminiscent of Richebourg in its power. Every sip slathers the palate with the essence of Vosne and out of all the wines we had this is the one still lingering on my breath the next morning.
Didn't know quite what to make of the Trimbach 1989 Riesling Clos Ste. Hune Vendanges Tardives. It was poured blind to us and while it seemed very Alsatian in construction it didn't have any riesling character to me. Making things odder, it smells like a sweet, late-harvest, botrytized wine but tastes bone dry. The result is a somewhat incongruous and, dare I say it, lifeless wine, without much sense of freshness owing to the jammy scent and deep, dark complexion but also without the sweetness that normally enriches and fleshes out a wine of this profile.
It was at this point I realized that the one defect in the new menu is the Atkinsesque near-total absence of carbohydrates, which makes raiding the wine list as punishing on your head the next morning as it is on your wallet.
It doesn't come cheap with the 6-course tasting menu at $155, but they don't skimp on the pricey ingredients (oscetra caviar, foie gras, Wagyu beef) and while it's not at the level of what Humm's doing now at Eleven Madison (where the 11 courses are "only" $145!) it's pretty damn close to what Humm was doing when he first arrived. So, there should be even greater things to come. The wine list ain't too shabby either.
Started with Domaine Michel Niellon 1989 Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru "Les Vergers" and Louis Jadot 1990 Chevalier-Montrachet "Les Demoiselles." There's an exceptional purity to the lemon/lime flavors in the Niellon, tasting far younger than its age and so bright and fresh it'd make a serviceable Sprite substitute except that it's also a pretty serious wine, with a chalky crushed-pebble sensation that adds dimension and texture to the otherwise gelatinous, creamy fruit filling.
The Demoiselles is rich and butterscotchy, almost more Batard than Chevalier to me, and in comparison to the purer and less bassy Niellon this legendary grand cru is actually upstaged. Until the lobster comes along, and like the turn of a key unlocks the true personality and hidden depths here, rendering the wine at least a decade fresher and many ticks on the spectrum brighter in fruit complexion, the jammy finish replaced by a cleansing chalk-spackled minerality that turns as briny as a rush of ocean water. Credit the wine but also credit the critter. Park Smith happened to be sitting next to me at the bar and said of the new chef, "He taught us a new way to make lobster." It's not often that a fancy chef can improve on a broiled lobster with Ritz crackers in a New England lobster shack, but this one does.
Fortunately the foie gras (poached in red wine) and Dover sole are designed to be red-wine dishes, so there's no pressure to turn to Sauternes in the middle of the meal and we can go straight to some awesome reds, featuring Domaine Mo-Camuzet 1985 Vosne-Romane 1er Cru Les Chaumes and Domaine Mo-Camuzet 1990 Vosne-Romane 1er Cru Aux Brules. Henri Jayer is reputed to have made Mo-Camuzet's 1985s, and this Chaumes amply demonstrates a Midas touch, the first Chaumes I've ever had that really does resemble its fancy neighbors uphill. Its enticing aromatics of gingerbread cookie dough and billowing sweetness and flesh on the palate remind me more than anything of Montille's incredible "Christiane" though of course with the benefit of two decades' aging to turn the texture even more graceful and silken.
The Brules is a muscle car in comparison. More exuberant than the '91 vintage of this wine and also more acidic -- in fact it started out so disjointed I was thinking it must have been acidified, but a few minutes in a decanter pulled it together more seamlessly. Mo's Brules just might be one of the ultimate examples of Vosne-Romane in existence. With a crunchier red-fruit profile than the Chaumes preceding it, this has the intoxicating Arabian spice-bazaar aromatics so classic to the commune driven by a deep, rumbling torque that's reminiscent of Richebourg in its power. Every sip slathers the palate with the essence of Vosne and out of all the wines we had this is the one still lingering on my breath the next morning.
Didn't know quite what to make of the Trimbach 1989 Riesling Clos Ste. Hune Vendanges Tardives. It was poured blind to us and while it seemed very Alsatian in construction it didn't have any riesling character to me. Making things odder, it smells like a sweet, late-harvest, botrytized wine but tastes bone dry. The result is a somewhat incongruous and, dare I say it, lifeless wine, without much sense of freshness owing to the jammy scent and deep, dark complexion but also without the sweetness that normally enriches and fleshes out a wine of this profile.
It was at this point I realized that the one defect in the new menu is the Atkinsesque near-total absence of carbohydrates, which makes raiding the wine list as punishing on your head the next morning as it is on your wallet.