The Avenue

I had the opportunity to eat at this french restaurant for my fathers birthday. Located on the new promenade boardwalk in Long Branch, New Jersey, the main dining floor is surrounded by towering windows leading to extremely high ceilings with hanging chandeliers in the center. A fireplace marks the center of the far wall, which almost seems out of place because of the very urbanized loyal customers, almost manhattanite decor(besides the high ceilings of course).
Regardless of my scrupulous observance, the meal and the company I enjoyed were definately memorable.

I had two dishes which I would have never imagined eating five years ago.

My appetizer was handmade Veal Cheek Ravioli's with roasted butternut sqush. I was so amazed by the flavor of the veal cheek stuffing inside the ravioli. Better than the most perfect short rib I have tasted(or as I interpret as perfect to this point in my palate's experience). The butternut squash complimented this by adding a smoother texture to the shredded texture of the ravioli filling.

My entree was braised wild boar. This was less than great but still ambitious. Whether it was ambitious for the chef to put it on the menu or for me to order it at a table filled with females, I am not sure. I truely am a sucker for papperdelle pasta and the braised wild boar was listed on the menu with one of my worst temptations (its pathetic, most peoples are chocolate). Unfortunately, the pasta was the best part of this dish. The meat resembled a cross between the flavor of a pot roast and the texture of a poorly executed beef bourginon. I was disappointed but I still managed to search the entire plate for that unique wild boar flavor I had anticipated, but didn't find. Maybe I was just hungry.

Guy Savoy

I just finished reading an article in Gourmet Magazine by Colman Andrews, about the venerated Guy Savoy. The article is a brief but effectively stated description of the somewhat new Restaurant Guy Savoy in Las Vegas. Andrews continues by making minor but surprising comparisons to the legendary Restaurant Guy Savoy in Paris, particularly that the sole he had in Las Vegas was more flavorful than the sole he had in Paris. Would this imply that the seafood in the desert is better than such in Paris? By now, probably.

I found this article most interesting because it allows me to bring up the cultural divide between native French and American chefs. “…Savoy start young:… and once said that his proudest moment was when he first cooked a perfect omelet at the age of seven or eight.” Seven or Eight! When I was that age I had absolutely no responsibility, job, ambition, or even a desire for any of them. I rollerbladed with my friends when I wasn’t in elementary school and probably didn’t even know what an omelet was, I ate waffles with jelly and butter for breakfast, or that such a thing could be prepared perfectly.

Had I been aggressively pursuing a food related career at seven or eight, I would undoubtedly be at a serious advantage by twenty two. But how many American children are actually encouraged to take such a route? When my sister asked my father if it would be a good idea to change her concentration from Journalism to Hospitality Management he recommended otherwise. It was not until I threatened to waste the tens of thousands of dollars already invested in my education by dropping out and attending culinary school did my father finally accept that his son was not going to be a Doctor. Once I finally cooked for him he began to strongly encourage my choice and I will be graduating December 15th with a degree in Hospitality Management, my proudest moment (so far).

But in 1993, when I was eight years old, would it really have been acceptable for my father (an American Doctor) to encourage his son to pursue a career in food service? I think not, and considering the amount of time I could have spent gaining cooking experience while in public schools/college, I may have a minor disadvantage to overcome.

(note: I am very grateful for my public school and college education. The last sentence may seem unappreciative but was not intended to be.)