Stop ordering entrees
It’s a sucker’s game.
My friend Andrew claims this site is just a place for me to, “Be mean and pretentious about restaurants.” I disagree.
Here I am being nice to Mattos Hospitality. Here’s a dedication to my favorite spots in Los Angeles. Here are a lot of words from lovely restaurant chefs on how they make aioli, objectively the best condiment.
But I like a direct challenge. And last week’s post was called, among other things, “Not your best work,” and, “So emo.” So, here is one mean thing I’m fine saying about a majority of American fine dining institutions: Their entrees are a waste of time.
On Thursday, a friend and I had what was otherwise an amazing meal at Place des Fêtes in Clinton Hill. Wonderful service, a good wine recommendation, the classic mussels en piquillo and sardine toast. It was great. But then they closed the savory portion of the meal with this pork rib that carried a one-note taste of sweet honey and little else. We just kind of shrugged at each other.
This is a common occurrence, especially in New York. An active NYC diner can scan Pete Wells’ top 100 restaurants list and remember dozens of standout smaller plates, including:
Every vegetable at Via Carota or Lilia
The crab cake at The Grill
Anything that’s been on the Estela menu for more than five years
The live scallop and escargots bourguignons at Le Rock
Torrisi’s specialties section
Gage & Tollner’s clams and devils on horseback
Lodi’s crostini di fegato
Le Coucou’s veal sweetbreads
Dhamaka’s gurda kapoora
Wildair’s pommes darphin
That’s just a start. But then you pass the sandwiches and pasta sections of these menus — very much not entrees — and you end up paying between $40-$120 for some fairly predictable preparations. There are the steak frites. The au poivre with a nontraditional protein. The roast duck. A butter poached fish. A large maitake or lion’s mane mushroom presented like a chicken. Something, somehow, still being topped with bone marrow. A return to simple cooking framed as a transgressive act. Trying to gamify bang-for-your-buck on the Resy notify list remains lame and misguided, but that doesn’t mean you have to make bad decisions when you order.
And this happens for a reason. Many people, of course, very much expect an entree as part of their dining out experience. Some tables even get one entree per person, a truly wild move. And professional kitchens accommodate this despite most not really being set up to blow you away every time. Instead, many attempt to execute the main courses you crank out at home with 10% more precision and slightly higher quality ingredients.
Here’s Jason Stewart, suddenly one of the best food critics in America, sneaking in good entree slander in his otherwise glowing Horses writeup:
I admire how Horses pays homage to an era of cooking that was popular when many of the kitchen staff were likely in diapers, such as with the aforementioned veal sweetbreads or pork rillettes with cornichon and grain mustard. But not their Cornish hen, a dish I never reach for in restaurants, as I roast a weekly chicken myself. Mine is not better than their poultry playbook, but when I drop $250 on a Wednesday dinner, I want to eat things I don’t cook at home.
Exactly. Shopping at Cookbook and honing your kitchen instincts will help you reliably come close to restaurant quality entrees at home whenever you want.
I avoided working the sauté station for as long as possible during my stint as a line cook. Mostly because it was hard and stressful. But also because it was my least favorite food coming out of the kitchen (sorry, Q!). We had a steak frites set that let the sauce, a brown butter bearnaise, shine. A mix of seafood dishes that were enjoyable once but not stellar repeat bites. Variations on mushrooms. When friends visited, I’d try to crush them with everything but entrees until they got to dessert.
A lot of the reason for this is informed by logistical constraints. If you cook every steak to order when the ticket prints, you’ll fail. Instead, when that first steak is ordered-in at 5pm, you start working four steaks to medium rare, anticipating future orders. You’re still cooking with care and technique, but you’re also surviving in ways a home cook doesn’t need to worry about. One of my favorite quotes about restaurant dining came from Rostam, who told the How Long Gone guys — and I’m going to paraphrase this one — “Saying the best thing you’ve ever eaten came from a restaurant is like saying you had the best sex of your life with a prostitute.” Yes, thank you.
You don’t find this as much in Mexico City or London. The portion size and price disparity between small plates and entrees is less jarring. The flavors are more compelling. The meal ends on a high. We had eight dinners in London in December and seven memorable entrees, like the teal with radicchio and preserved cherries at Lyle’s or the venison with a mushroom vinaigrette at Cadet. The best spots in Mexico City are the ones you hit at 2pm and snack and drink at until it starts to get dark. In America, inertia and more punishing restaurant financial realities often wipe out those possibilities.
Ultimately, this comes down to what you want in a fine dining experience. Is it a good time? Sustenance? Mesmerizing food? A humming room? Are you just there to signal that you were, in fact, there? Or do you need it all, every time?
That’s up to you and the people at your table. But you’ll leave happier if you ignore the bottom third of the menu.
Exceptions to the rule: 10 entrees around the country worth repeat visits.
These basically fall into one of two categories: High-quality proteins prepared so well that they blow you away, perhaps with a nice little flourish or two, or a large format, do-your-own-thing-with-it presentation.
Duck alla mulberry | Torrisi | NYC
A perfect steak au poivre | Bell’s | Los Alamos
Whole grilled snook | Coni’s Seafood | LA
Lamb barbacoa | Cosme | NYC
Stuffed quail | Odd Duck | Austin
Any larger seafood special | Found Oyster & Anajak Thai | LA
Fried skate | Cervo’s | NYC
Lamb neck shawarma | Bavel | LA
Roasted chicken | Zuni Cafe | SF