Sacrilegious: Pho shame

Venue: MissChu

Style: Vietnamese, Hawker

Address: Shop 2, 297 Exhibition Street, Melbourne [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9077 1097

Hours: Mon-Sat 11:00am-10:00pm

Prices: Snacks $2.50 - $8.00 / Mains from $13 / Desserts $3.50

Bookings: Unnecessary

Website: http://www.misschu.com.au/

Amongst Melbourne diners, there are certain edible articles of faith that inspire something approaching fanaticism. It has less to do with fashion than it does with the fact that some eating experiences defy trends: enduring, uncomplicated pleasures like the smoky finish of good espresso, the architectural wonder that is a well-made burger and the more-ish quality of xiao long bao (burns to the roof of my mouth be damned).

It was only a few weeks ago that I finally experienced another sacrosanct linchpin of the Melbourne eating scene, in Sydney ironically. It's been theorised that phở is a northern Vietnamese interpretation of the French classic pot-au-feu. Slim cuts of boiled beef are tossed into an aromatic broth with rice noodles and finished with garnishes of Thai basil, fresh lime, chilli and bean sprouts. The broth was wonderfully bold and spiked with ginger, with the garnishes adding heat, aniseed and acid. And whilst my late grandmother was no aficionado of Asian cuisine, she would have been delighted by such tender, flavourful brisket.

So I was puzzled to find MissChu offering a Wagyu beef phở on their menu. I wasn't clear on why you'd drown such produce in an aggressively flavoured broth, but I felt duty-bound to test out another phở and both Mr. S and I enjoyed the look of the rest of the menu.



By night, MissChu is a very cool, casual venue offset by flickering candles. They've made the most of a narrow space which serves just as well a relaxed diner or a pre-drinks stopover (indeed, I plan to return on a non-school night to sample the coconut crush mixers). Peruse your tuckshop order forms, as well as the specials board and place your order at the counter.

Mixed rice paper rolls

Mixed rice paper rolls are moist and refreshing, which is the very least you'd hope for from the self-styled "Queen of Rice Paper Rolls" ($6.50 for 2). Inventive combinations are also on offer, like the egg omelet with creamy avocado and caramelised onion with balsamic.

Prawn and crab net rolls

Mr. S and I share a serve of the prawn and crab net rolls ($5.00 for 4), which I misunderstand to be your typical spring roll, with filling whorled up inside of a single sheet and fried. Rather, these net rolls are a solid snack offering: delicate and crunchy without being greasy, with firm, juicy chunks of seafood within. I ensure each mouthful includes a lashing of sweet chilli dipping sauce and a few pieces of crisp lettuce. Mr. S agrees that the net wrapper is inspired and we consider ordering more, however, we've another course on the way...

Wagyu beef pho 

MissChu's Wagyu beef phở ($14) is a problem. Premium ingredients aside, it is the sort of thing that draws people in - or turns them away - all on its own. If your basic dish is handicapped, you won't solve its deficiencies by dousing it in truffle oil. Likewise, this bowl of pho is a disappointment. The broth is not particularly flavoursome, even with the addition of the condiments. Worse, the hero of the dish - the beef - is chewy and doesn't taste of much. Sadly for MissChu and for me, the Wagyu tag comes across as nothing more than a cynical attempt to exploit premium cachet.

This goes some way towards explaining some of the negative reviews MissChu has received, I believe, as overall, Mr. S and I liked the food and the venue and we'd return. We capped off our meal with a bowl of coconut ice-cream studded with chunks of coconut flesh and topped with toasted almonds and fresh mint.

The Queen of Rice Paper Rolls is certainly adept with food, if not marketing.

Relative cost and outcomes: Dessert recipes

Some years ago, I was heartened by a confessional piece penned by food journalist Matt Preston, wherein he admitted that his guiltiest pleasure was Coco Pops with a dollop of cream. This resonated with my definition of what it means to be a gourmand: to embrace food as something both nourishing and sensuous. It may also encompass an appreciation for the refined but it shouldn't exalt this aspect above all others, because to do so is to limit oneself. In the words of Clive James, "The human personality is a drama, not a monologue." Passionate foodie that I am, I vacillate between desires, from the wonder of cutting edge palate cleansers to the unapologetic satisfaction that is packet Mi Goreng at the end of a long Saturday night.

As far as techniques go, making mousse barely qualifies as cooking. Much more skill is required to make, say, individual dessert tarts. Nerd that I am, I can't help but think of this in terms of cost-benefit analysis. Individual tarts require a significantly greater investment of time and effort than mousse; will the resulting pleasure derived from eating the tart be higher than that of the mousse, reflective of and equivalent to the extra work put in?

Laziness won out in this instance and I went ahead with the mousse. What I did not anticipate was the reception this basic dessert would receive. Granted, it is delicious and I adapted it from Bill Granger's recipe to exhibit the flavours and textures that I like best: a velvety mouthfeel, crunchy almonds, sweetness, citrus and bitterness.

I've struck out the egg yolks, as I feel the mousse is rich enough already.

White chocolate mousse w/ orange and almonds

Serves 2 [simply double the quantities to make more]

Ingredients:
100g white chocolate
2 egg whites
35g caster sugar
80ml thickened cream
20ml milk
1 tsp vanilla extract (vanilla essence will work as well, but extract delivers better flavour and the visual pay-off of the little black dots from the vanilla pod)
2 tbsp flaked almonds
1 tbsp Grand Marnier (substitute in more orange juice if you're going for a non-alcoholic version)
1 orange, reserving 1 tbsp juice plus zest

To decorate:
Orange zest
White chocolate curls (these can be shaved off of the edges of your white chocolate block)

Method:
1) If decorating, make your orange and white chocolate curls first. Orange zest curls can be made using a very sharp vegetable peeler.
2) To make white chocolate curls, shave along the edges of the chocolate block using your vegetable peeler. This can take a few attempts to get right. If you're a klutz like me and it takes you so long to work out that the chocolate starts to soften in your hands, whack it in the fridge and then try again.
3) Break the chocolate into pieces and melt with the milk and vanilla extract in a heatproof bowl over a double boiler, stirring until smooth and set aside to cool to room temperature.
4) Beat egg whites until, gradually adding caster sugar until glossy peaks form.
5) In a separate bowl, beat the cream and then fold into egg white mixture with a large spoon.
6) Fold the cooled chocolate mixture, orange juice, Grand Marnier and flaked almonds into the egg whites and cream mixture with a large spoon.
7) Pour mixture into serving bowls/glasses and allow to set in the fridge.
8) Once chilled, top with orange zest and white chocolate curls and dive right in.

Circus in the clouds - Vue de Monde @ Rialto

Venue: Vue de Monde

Style: Modern French, Molecular Gastronomy

Address: Level 55, Rialto, 525 Collins Street, Melbourne [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9691 3888

Hours: Lunch Tue-Fri & Sun 12:00pm-2:00pm / Dinner Mon-Sat 6:00pm-11:00pm

Prices: Lunch Express $60 / A la carte 4 courses $150 / Gastronomes 10+ courses $250

Bookings: Absolutely necessary, should be made online

Website: http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/

If your significant other is anything like me, Vue de Monde may not be the place to take them, unless you like the idea of feeling cuckolded by a plate of brioche.

At the base of the Rialto, we're a little confused by the numbers in the lift well, which end at level 54. We're approached by a woman in a neat black skirt-suit who advises us she's just sent the elevator up but that it will be back for us shortly. Having checked our booking and muttered into her handheld transceiver, she confirms that our mission, if we choose to accept it we may ascend.





The Lui Bar is a stunning space to enjoy pre-dinner drinks of Irish whiskey (1995 Knappogie Castle) and a Negroni, served with blanched almonds in Campari and orange toffee. Unlike the restaurant proper, the bar does not take reservations and is open to all and sundry. And with a snack menu that includes head-scratchers like "Roadkill terrine," I'm bound to pay another visit soon (for investigative purposes, obviously).

Shannon Bennett's shift to the upper echelons of the Melbourne skyline only see him amplifying the depth and complexity of flavours on show; the food is bolder than ever, which suits the dramatic, low-lit interior and the tables dressed in kangaroo hide. Accents of fur-lined seating and tableware fashioned out of vine sticks and river stones are all the more rugged looking, set against the yawning, glittering view across the city.








It is a given that my attitude towards this establishment is rapturous. After Shannon visits our table to welcome us and finish plating the first course, I explain to my darling Dom that the guy is a rock star as far as I'm concerned. This is Dom's first time at Vue de Monde and while his lust for food is on par with my own, he has no taste for pretension and spends much of the evening sweetly mocking me.

To wit, we're both stumped by the coin-slot openings in some of the river rocks on our table. The waitress clarifies that they're for holding steak knives, but Dom has already decided that they resemble something less than savoury.

You decide

The meal begins with five different amuse bouche:

• crisps with mayonnaise,
  
• crunchy pumpkin pieces,
  
• smoked eel encased in white chocolate and topped with caviar,
  
• venison tartare sandwiched between dried wagyu, and
  
• translucent pouches of oyster and lime.

Dom places the venison sandwich in his mouth and asks if we might have ten more of those. He is also impressed by the smoked eel and white chocolate, which I am enjoying for the second time with its lip-smacking combination of salty, oily, smoky and sweet. The pumpkin pieces are bland by comparison, but the crunch has its place amongst the softer appetisers.

Mixed amuse bouche

Finished with a grating of lime zest, a plate of spanner crab is crunchy, salty and bright, the kind of delicate opening to a meal that I favour. Dom can take it or leave it and is having a much better time with the hot, plush sourdough and quenelle of cultured butter at the centre of the table.

Spanner crab, broccoli, beetroot, crustacean dressing

Our attendant returns with the Cona Vacuum Coffee Percolator and I assume we're to enjoy VDM's signature bouillabaisse, but the broth is too dark for that and the upper chamber contains pine needles. New plates are placed before us, with a selection of mixed mushrooms (wild, pine, enoki) and we're told that the kitchen staff refer to this dish as a 'walk through the forest.'

Percolating pine needles...

This was a polarising dish. I didn't drool all over myself per se but I found the aroma and depth of the broth to be very seductive. The pine needle flavour was definitely there, as well as a caramel-sweetness and some nuttiness. Perhaps it was too aggressive for Dom, because while he finished off the whole mushrooms, he insisted I finish his broth, as I clearly enjoyed it far more (he also maintains that he needs a much fancier spoon to eat with).

Pine mushrooms, walnuts, bird's cress, cona infusion

The last time I enjoyed VDM's extravagant surf and turf, I ate each component separately. I can safely say now that eating all three parts at once is the way to go, even though it means the experience is a little briefer. The marron remains the veritable king of crustacea, with its meaty flesh that is less sweet and more savoury; I slather it in the hazelnut butter and crown it with the beef sandwich.

Marron, beef tongue, brown butter emulsion

As for the next course, be still, my beating heart. I'd had a variant on this dish before but it's been refined and the sex has been amped up, with the depth of flavour of the onion jus, the creaminess of the purée, richness of the egg and the decadent earthiness of the truffle shavings ricocheting around my mouth like a culinary multiple orgasm.

Fried duck egg, lamb sweetbreads, pickled onion and fresh black truffle

Along with our cutlery being reset, we receive, without a word, a wooden pestle...

 

Mystery pestle

We're each served a bowl that is pretty as a picture, which is ironic in that I didn't have time to capture a photograph of it. A mix of miniature flowers and herbs is finished with a cascade of dry ice, which we're then asked to grind up using our pestles. Once reduced to a fine-ish powder, scoops of cucumber sorbet are placed on top, forming our delightful palate cleanser course.

Cucumber sorbet, crushed herbs

Having taken a break on the outside balcony, we reconvene for the arrival of one of the stars of the evening. The colour says it all: perfectly seasoned, succulent, yielding kangaroo flesh, with crisp accompaniments and the conversation ceases as we eat with gusto. Unfortunately, the daubs of lemon mousse are a misfire, much too bitter and tasting of a chemistry set.

Kangaroo, radish, swede, turnip, lemon

Thoughts of misfires evaporate however with our final savoury course: pieces of Blackmore wagyu beef finished with cherry sauce, crisp chestnut slices and fragrant garlic foam. I closed my eyes and chewed each piece well beyond what was necessary to aid digestion. I did not want the experience of eating this beef to end. Flavour to make your knees weak and luxurious marbling.

Blackmore wagyu beef, chestnut, wild garlic, cherries

As for dessert, I ask our attendant to surprise me. In the meantime, Dom discusses options for a cheese plate.
 

Cheese chatter

His selection includes a mild goat's cheese, a rich and creamy Délice de Bourgogne, a sharp gruyeres and a very generous piece of unpasteurised Roquefort. Accompaniments include pear mousse, rhubarb in syrup, apple matchsticks and candied fruits, with the fig really standing out. The unpasteurised cheese is like no blue we've tried before, exceedingly moist and a little bit fizzy in the mouth. Dom prefers the gruyeres for its wonderful sharpness, whilst I cannot get enough of the Roquefort.

Mixed confit, cheese selection of goat's, Delice de Bourgogne, gruyère & unpasteurised Roquefort

For dessert, I receive a VDM classic: their elegant chocolate soufflé finished with warm crème anglaise, spiked with plenty of vanilla. It wobbles slightly as my spoon dips in, coming up with a big helping of soufflé, sauce and crème.

Chocolate soufflé with chocolate sauce...

...finished with warm crème anglaise

In spite of the fact that we're too full to even consider tea and coffee, our attendant brings us a selection of gorgeous petits fours anyway. She really ought not to have done so, because Dom does not have a sweet tooth and I am just about forced to eat them myself, as I cannot abide waste. The slippery, sweet and sour lemon jub-jubs return along with thyme marshmallow puffs and "lamingtons," which are actually little squares of chocolate mousse topped with jam and coated in coconut. New to me is the VDM Golden Gaytime, a little bite of buttery smooth ice-cream with a crunchy coating.

Petits fours

With another exquisite meal at Vue de Monde at an end, I'm interested to know Dom's thoughts. While not everything was to his taste and he would have preferred double helpings of anything featuring meat, he called it an experience like nothing he'd had before. The circus claims another disciple.

Red Spice Road to ruin

Venue: Red Spice Road
Style: Thai, Vietnamese, South East Asian
Address: 27 McKillop Street, Melbourne [Google Maps]
Phone: (03) 9603 1601
Hours: Lunch Mon-Sat 12:00pm-3:00pm / Dinner Mon-Fri 5:00pm-late, Sat 6:00pm-late
Prices: Set Lunch $25 / Banquets $45-$75 / E $4.50-13.50, M $26-38, D $13-15
Bookings: Necessary, telephone or online
Website: http://www.redspiceroad.com/



GLUTTON, n. A person who escapes the evils of moderation by committing dyspepsia.

~ The Devil's Dictionary (C) 1911

Between the dim lighting, red accents and walls lined with comely maidens who've misplaced their shirts, Red Spice Road has the look of a den of iniquity. The sexy and raucous atmosphere coupled with the diverse scents emanating from the kitchen lulled me into a sense of abandonment I've not felt in some time (the 2010 Balgownie pinor noir probably played a part, cheap drunk that I am) and I gave my lustful appetite free reign. While the meal didn't qualify as a 10, our table discerning a number of missteps, you certainly wouldn't kick this one out of bed (perhaps my mixing of metaphors should cease here).





A starter of lamb ribs crumbed in chilli salt and cumin meets with universal acclaim. Will expresses a desire to forgo the rest of the menu in favour of MORE RIBS, as the meat is so soft and perfectly seasoned. I look forward to enjoying this dish in summer with a Belgian white ale.

Lamb ribs with chilli salt, cumin and coriander

..no morsel left behind

Our three shared mains along with fragrant rice arrived shortly thereafter, including a Panaeng (sic) curry of venison shank, soft shell crab salad and Red Spice Road's lauded signature dish of pork belly with apple slaw, chilli caramel and black vinegar.

 

Soft-shell crab salad of green papaya, peanut and tomato

I fail to detect much papaya in the accompanying salad but the soft-shell crab is beautifully crisp on the outside, tender on the inside and quickly annihilated.

We move on to the pork belly, divided into neatly-sized mouthfuls that are entirely deserving of rave reviews. Despite being partially immersed in the slaw dressing, the pork retains firmness and has a luscious mouthfeel, offset by the sweet and sour of the apple and vinegar, respectively.

Venison shank Panaeng curry with kipfler potatoes

However, it was the venison shank curry that proved to be my undoing. Unorthodox spelling aside (Panaeng?), this plate of food was so comprehensively pleasing that I ignored the fact that I was full and forged on. Like the ribs, the venison had been cooked until it was almost slipping from the bone. A mouthful of meat, curry sauce, potato, nuts and coriander was rich, crunchy and fresh-tasting, with the gentle flavour of coconut also coming through.

At this point, the only disappointment was that our second serve of rice was overcooked - tragically mushy.

The guys insisted upon ordering dessert, which I was receptive to provided we were sharing. I hiccuped and thought ruefully of the 'gluttony' scene in Seven...

Lemongrass pannacotta, watermelon jelly, mango marshmallow and peanut praline / Lychee-filled doughnuts with palm sugar and coconut ice-cream

Sadly, the lemongrass pannacotta was a bimbo of a dessert: pretty as a picture and bland, with no lemongrass registering. Both watermelon constituents also lacked taste and the peanut praline was of such negligible quantity as to be worthless.

Fortunately for our tastebuds (and unfortunately for my stomach), the lychee-filled doughnuts made for an inspired dessert. I've never before seen doughnuts stuffed with whole fruit; the dough had obviously been fried rapidly, leaving a light outer layer that gave way to the bright juiciness within. Additional fresh lychees flanked quenelles of coconut ice-cream.

There is a great deal to like about Red Spice Road, not least of all the generosity of flavour and serving sizes. I should also mention that most seating is communal, which is a set-up I quite enjoy, although in this instance, I suspect the party atmosphere contributed to my excesses.

So it was that I ate with alacrity and lost my head...and my appetite for the next 16 hours.

And I, for one, welcome our new zombie overlords

Rose and vanilla infused pannacotta with pomegranate sauce

The popular consciousness' preferred symbol of terror, the vampire, has been challenged in recent years by the spectre of the zombie. No longer a relic of genre films or a stock character in an Ed Wood production, the zombie can now be relied upon as a true agent of horror, in the wake of the vampire's softening up. Nowadays, however, zombies are not merely the preoccupation of film studio executives; between Carleton University's mathematical analysis of a zombie infection outbreak and the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's suggestions around how to be prepared for a zombie-related emergency, serious thought is being devoted to the idea of a zombie apocalypse.

So in the interests of being ready and well fed (because you cannot be the former without the latter), our friend Cheryl marked her birthday with a gory bash consisting of:

- brain hemorrhage shots,
- brain-bowl soup of hollowed out rolls filled with 'grey matter' (potato and leek),
- eyeball arancini (firm mushroom risotto balls with a black olive 'eye'),
- bloodied (sauced) chicken fingers with melted cheese, and
- an appalling-looking rose and vanilla infused pannacotta lashed with pomegranate sauce.

I had my heart set on making gravesite-inspired cupcakes, with miniature plastic hands emerging from the surface, but alas, plastic hands eluded me and going all Ed Gein on a dozen Barbie dolls seemed like a lot of work for something you can't actually eat.

I settled on edible gravestones instead and made up the following, adapted from my mother's flourless chocolate cake recipe which makes for the sexiest, richest consistency, better than anything made with flour (although she is amenable to the living dead, Cheryl cannot tolerate gluten).

Added inspiration for this treat and some of the techniques are derived from the Cupcake Bakeshop blog, a testament to baked goods as both pornography and conduit for experimentation.

Flourless chocolate gravecakes w/ spiced pumpkin mousse

Makes 22 cupcakes




Ingredients:

Decoration
150g LSA mix (a ground mixture of linseed, sunflower seeds and almonds, find it in the Health Food section)
Biscuits suitable to make headstones (I used 11 of Eskal's gluten-free vanilla tea biscuits, with their little borders resembling funerary decoration, though I did have to scrape off the little coffee cup impressions with a knife)
Green food dye
1 cup pure icing sugar
90g softened unsalted butter
1 tbsp milk

Spiced pumpkin mousse
150g pumpkin, seeds and skin discarded and flesh grated, cooked, pureed and cooled
250g double cream
1 egg white
50g brown sugar
2 tsp ground allspice

Cupcakes
200g softened unsalted butter
8 eggs
200g dark chocolate, broken into pieces
300g hazlenut meal
1 cup caster sugar

Method:

Decoration
1) Beat butter with an electric mixer until pale and soft. Gradually add sugar and milk until combined.
2) Add a drop of green food dye and combine, adding more for colour, depending on how green you like your icing.
3) Refrigerate.
4) To make headstones, use a sharp knife to split biscuits in two; if you can be bothered, use the tip of the knife to inscribe "RIP" or little crucifixes - or the names of your friends if you want to be cute.

Spiced pumpkin mousse
1) Ensure pumpkin flesh has been reserved, grated, cooked until soft, pureed and cooled.
2) Beat egg white until glossy and stiff and gradually add sugar to form a meringue, set aside.
3) In another bowl, beat cream to whipped and gently stir pumpkin through with a spoon until combined - do not do this if the pumpkin is hot. Warm is ok; don't be alarmed if it looks entirely unappealing, remember, it's going to be hidden inside the cupcakes.
4) Stir allspice through, add more if desired.
5) Fold meringue through pumpkin mixture and chill in fridge.

Cupcakes
1) Preheat a fan-forced oven to 180°C / 356°F.
2) Melt chocolate and butter together over a double boiler, stirring with a wooden spoon and set aside to cool.
3) Separate the eggs into two metal bowls and beat whites to stiff peaks; set aside.
4) Beat sugar into yolks until pale and stir in cooled chocolate until combined - don't overmix.
5) Fold hazlenut meal and then egg whites into the chocolate mixture.
6) Distribute between cupcake liners and bake for about 20 minutes, depending on the efficiency of your oven - test that they're cooked by inserting a metal skewer and checking it comes out clean. Set aside to cool.

Assembly:

1) Take a cupcake and using a short, sharp knife, cut around the top of the cupcake at an angle, making an upside-down cone. Lift out and cut off the cone, so that you are left with a flat, round cupcake "lid".
2) Place a spoon of spiced pumpkin mousse inside the cupcake and replace lid.
3) Grease the top of the lid with a little butter or spray oil and sprinkle LSA mix to cover; pat LSA mix down as necessary.
4) Gently insert biscuit headstones; you may need to hold your lid down as you do this so that it does not become upended.
5) Green icing can be applied around the edging with a knife and blades of grass can be made using a fork; I used a piping kit with a star tip to make an edging of green rosettes.

glutto-NY: Dispatches from a jet-setting stomach

Venue: Café Boulud
Style: French Asian fusion
Address: 20 East 76th Street, New York, NY, 10021 [Google Maps]
Phone: +1 212 772 2600
Hours: 7:00am-10:00am, 12:00pm-2:30pm, 5:45pm-10:30pm (Sun from 8:00am)
Prices: 3-course Lunch $38 / 7-course Degustation $125 / E $16-28, M $34-48, D $10-28
Bookings: Yes, telephone or online
Website: http://www.danielnyc.com/cafebouludNY.html

Note: All opinions expressed herein are solely those of my stomach and do not reflect the opinions of my brain, heart or any other component within my personal make-up that exerts influence over my behaviour.


Soren Kierkegaard wrote, "People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something."

Presumably, Kierkegaard would not have been the type vying for a seat aboard one of the many Hop-On-Hop-Off sightseeing buses that offer visitors an abridged experience of New York City. Even I, a mere stomach, principally concerned with sustenance and other perfunctory tasks as I am, cannot imagine the character of a city being unearthed in this way. Now I don't always see eye-to-eye with my fellow organs when it comes to priorities, but if there's something that the brain and I absolutely agree upon, it is this: the experience of traveling is diluted when it is reduced to a series of boxes to be checked off.

So of course I was less then pleased today when a visit to the Frick Collection spanned more than two hours. Two FRICKING hours! Apparently the brain erroneously imagined that the heart and soul of New York City was going to be found in a museum loaded with EUROPEAN artwork (a mere two American artists rated appearances amongst the cavalcade of German and Italian masters). The gallery was formerly the opulent residence of industrialist Henry Clay Frick, so I was afforded a moment's entertainment when we set foot into the formal dining room, where we learned about the dinners Frick once hosted, usually to 20+ male guests, who might have enjoyed caviar, sweetbreads braised in mushrooms, roasted pheasant and strawberry tart.

Indeed, there is much to be understood about people, history and places in terms of what was being eaten and by who. Frick's mansion, like the meals served therein, is a relic of what it used to mean to be wealthy in America. The definition, like the aforementioned menu, has been transformed into something considerably different. To wit, having left the museum in search of lunch, I exerted my discerning influence such that we wound up at Café Boulud, where even someone of modest means today can eat like the aristocracy of yesteryear. Say what you will of capitalism, but was truffle butter ever going to be made available to the masses under socialism? I think not.

Amuse bouche of arancini

Café Boulud is a solid example of what it means to be moneyed and unpretentious, where the food stands as an elegant tribute to modern French cooking and the wait staff treat you like royalty. Case in point, the feet on which I depend to ferry me between restaurants were clothed in a truly unappetising pair of sneakers today, however, the maître d' did not miss a beat in his warm welcome.

While perusing the prix fixe options, a complimentary baguette landed upon the table, along with a loaf of quality, cultured butter. I had thought up until now that bread was just not something that New York City diners place much importance on, given that up until today, every last piece had been somewhere between "OK" and "balsa wood." Adding even further weight to this argument is the fame achieved by Magnolia Bakery, where hypercolour butter-cream frosting takes precedence over actual baking technique. So I was pleased to find the baguette was of artisan standards, crusty, yielding and plush on the inside (it was also gigantic, so of course I wrapped up three-quarters of it and stashed it in my handbag for later).

A starter of cold soba noodle salad epitomises the fusion of French technique and Asian flavour; the soft noodles glisten with a delicate sesame dressing and are finished with a scattering of peanuts. Firm little bites of shiitake mushroom and crunchy scallions make for a balanced dish, diverse in texture.



As tempted as I was to order yet another steak, after two profoundly impressive experiences already, I cajoled myself into trying something else, to see if surf 'n' turf is something that New York takes as seriously. A course of pan-seared salmon wrapped in bacon is satisfying if a little unremarkable; the fish is lovely and mild and thus upstaged by the smoky bacon wrapper. Romaine lettuce puree is a little baffling to me, but the cherry tomatoes hiding beneath the greens offer a welcome hit of sweet and sour.



Characteristically, I am not terribly interested in dessert, but I relent on the basis that I need to examine how NYC does high-end sweets; "An entirely reasonable justification," brain chimes in. Well. Showcased in the dessert course is Jivara chocolate, famed for its velvety texture and hints of malt. Boulud serves it as a mousse, along with a whipped coffee ganache, chocolate Grand Marnier foam and nougat ice-cream. It's lust on a plate, with a dozen techniques being showcased. From the airy foam to the dense, thin layer of cake beneath the mousse, this luxurious dessert was a veritable sampling of four miniature sweets at once. And in the midst of my rapturous state, brain could be heard, far away, muttering, "Aren't we glad we've been walking everywhere? Another on-foot jaunt from W. 104th to Times Square should do the trick."



To finish, a decent macchiato and a complimentary bowl of feather-light madeleines, citrusy and warm from the oven, bringing the meal to a magnificent conclusion and ensuring that I will not be in need of dinner.



It would be a mistake however to imagine that this sort of meal is the norm in New York City, despite Café Boulud being pitched as a casual dining destination. It tells a story about a certain kind of diner, but when you're working on acquainting yourself with the soul of a city that has to feed around 20 million residents and almost 50 million tourists annually, you need to immerse yourself in a great many stories. The sheer ubiquity of options is astounding, no matter what part of the city you are in or what the time is.

Things I've learned so far?

• New York takes its steak very seriously;
  
• Capitalism triumphs once more by the healthful demands of the market prompting someone to open a place called Chop't, selling some of the sexiest salad I've ever inhaled;
  
• I will always and forever more side with multiculturalism, if for no other reason that I can dine on $2 Colombian snacks on Friday, Jewish knishes at the deli on Saturday and high-end French-influenced South East Asian fare on Monday (booked in as I am at Jean-Georges Vongerichten's Spice Market);
  
• New York apparently has the highest density of Starbucks of anywhere in the United States and they always appear to be busy, belying an attitude to coffee that is less concerned with espresso than it is serving sizes and syrups (but then I suspected this when I worked for them as a teenager, watching them all but fail in Melbourne, where quality coffee has been known to inspire behaviour also recognisable amongst cults).
  

Where I lay my fork is home.