Brooklyn Fare
Dinner at Brooklyn Fare is something to covet, an individually intimate experience shared each time by a different group of twelve. In Alan Richman’s glowing review for GQ, he fawned over the chef, Bouley alum Cesar Ramirez, and teased readers about the difficulty of scoring a reservation — boy was he right. Back in February, when I dined there for my mother’s 60th, Chef Ramirez admitted that they were booked through July, at which point the kitchen will undergo some renovations and emerge as a slightly larger (18 seat) version of itself “with the same focus but better”.
Ramirez is constantly experimenting. I noted what I thought was a plastic lobster - the kind you’d find at an AYCE seafood buffet - perched on a shelf, but was informed that it was instead a disintegrated lobster skeleton; the result of cooking [it] at low temperature for an entire month straight. I’ve no idea how or if it was implemented in one of his dinners, but it approaches evil in its genius.
The meal acts as more than theater — it’s an interactive experience. Sitting at the stainless steel island, diners are treated to an operatic show as Chef Ramirez pieces together a parade of studiously composed plates whose sourcing and composition the calculating toque is more than happy to discuss with waiting patrons. We were treated to 17 courses (10 amuse, 7 tasting), and they all sang. Knowing the back story of a dish can help you understand it better, sending your taste buds searching for flavors you might not have initially sought out.
Standouts from the meal included a piece of simply grilled sardine woven through a potato chip with crispy sage, the tender fish serving as contrast for all that crunch. Kindai toro, a sustainable farmed tuna from Japan, came dressed with mustard, soy and crispy leeks, and melted the way only toro can. Monkfish and foie gras, bound together with cabbage and already decadent on its own, was boosted by parsley root puree and a luxe chanterelle cream, and a stunning dish of rouget and escargot in a gleaming Iranian saffron sauce elicited wide-eyed stares. Of the three meat dishes, the most clever was a small ball of freshly baked bread injected with liquefied smoked foie gras that burst like a very grown up Gushers. Ramirez is immensely talented, a maestro with all things marine (you should see him in a sea captain’s jacket). Best of all, the man makes Alan Richman blush — and we can all sleep easier knowing that.
