Cafe Boulud

Maybe because it was Saturday night, or maybe business casual just doesn't mean the same in NYC than it does in SF, maybe Daniel Boulud's name just commands this kind of crowd, or all of the above. Whatever the reason, Cafe Boulud was full of well-dressed, important-looking (read sophisticated, older, but very "upkept") people, making me wish, at first, I had worn one of my dresses. It made sense, since the dining room really was beautifully decorated, but no worries, we ended up seated in the back row of the restaurant with the rest of the not-so-famous, not-so-beautiful people - not to be seen, but to see (we had a great view of the rest of the restaurant).

And see we did! In fact, we saw Daniel's fellow Frenchman Eric Ripert!

Did you spot him in the grey blazer over Mark's right shoulder? And who is that he got up to talk to? At that table is a man both Mark and I recognized, but could not place. Mark thought he was a chef that guest judged on Top Chef a few seasons back, but I thought he was an actor that I've seen play an attorney or politician on television before. Mark was right.

The food was as good as everyone said it would be. We could see why Chef Boulud himself is known to eat there more often than his original restaurant Daniel, and others like Chef Ripert does, too.

They started us off with these hot, black truffle and fontina cheese-filled balls.

Mark had the seared foie gras, which was perfection, with sweet pear to balance the fatty liver. I remember having foie gras this good before only once or twice before, and I think it was in Paris. These French chefs really know their foie gras.

I had a beautiful house-made papardelle with a really nice mozzarella, pine nuts and basil pesto. We all know how good papardelle is, and this was probably the best I've ever had. With starters like these, it baffled me why anyone would start with a salad. I suppose some people really like their salads, and I'm sure they're very good salads, but come oooooonnnnnnn!

Mark had the beef duo as his main course, which included a braised short rib and seared coulotte (top sirloin), and was perfection. It was served with a cauliflower gratin and swiss chard to offset the richness of the beef. I had a butter poached Dover sole stuffed with an herb mousse with sunchoke puree, citrus braised endive and sauce Americaine. No clue what's in a sauce Americaine, but it was delicious.

For dessert, I chose a hazelnut gateaux with gianduja chocolate mousse, caramel fondant and hojicha tea ice cream. Mark chose the deconstructed apple tart tatin with a pecan bourbon ice cream that was to-die-for. The tart tatin tasted looked nothing like its namesake, but it tasted like the perfect French memory, each element individually delicious, and mind-blowing when combined.

The only chink in the armor showed up at the end of the meal when they failed to give us the mini-madeleines everyone was was served post-dessert. I had no room for it, but it was a mistake, and I didn't expect any mistakes from them. Maybe next time I'll get my hair professionally done, wear some makeup and more impressive jewelry.