Long Story Really Long
This post is all about the meal. If restaurant reviews bore you, skip it. If it makes you hungry, I did my job.
Dinner at Alex in the Wynn
Before lunch at Tableau, we had stopped by Alex to look at the menu. So we had already seen the marble bridge spanning the koi pond that leads the way to the entrance of dark brown doors with lead glass.
It was good that we did that, because as we approached at night we were practically whisked to our table. Just as we reached the stairs, the doors swung out for us. The hostesses, out of sight from the entrance, had pushed the doors open. They greeted us, and we had no time to take in the small bar and lounge area before we were escorted down the sweeping staircase and into the dining room. Our chairs were pulled out for us, and the hostess told N she would be back with a stool for her bag.
N did not really register what she said, but I knew that was coming because I read a
review that mentioned it. The hostess promptly returned with a stool (a small chair really, since it had a back) where N could set her evening bag.
I tried not to be gauche, but I had to capture that.
The waiter brought menus and explained the options. We could elect for the tasting menu, seven courses, sized appropriately, or select an appetizer, entree, and dessert from the choices of the prix fixe menu. He told us that any of the choices from the tasting menu could be prepared in a larger portion as part of a prix fixe selection.
We knew we were going to get the tasting menu, it was just a question of whether we would get the wine pairings or order a bottle. I looked at the wine list. It was extensive, hit many parts of the world (Slovenian whites, for example), and included a date stamp at the bottom of the page, bearing the day's date. Yes, it seems at Alex they reprint the wine list on a regular basis for accuracy.
There was no way I was going to pick a wine to match all of our food, and so we went with the wine pairings. We had done it before at other restaurants, and the wine portions were smaller, but you got more glasses, so that was fine.
Not at Alex, we discovered. The first wine we would get was a Pierre Peters champagne, and we got a full flute.
"How many courses?" N asked me.
"Seven, but I think we only get one dessert wine."
"I'm not going to be able to drink all that wine."
"Don't worry, I will."
After we ordered, our waiter brought out a small plate of food, four pairs of miniature dishes. Normally I would call this an amuse bouche, but the tasting menu included a course called "amuse bouche," and there were four of these, not just one so let's just call this course "nice [censored] bonus".
Bite number one: a panna cotta of celery root, with a sprinkling of fried leek. The panna cotta had been set in a propped up spoon, and chilled that way, then served to us as such so we could just pick it up and eat it. Celery root has a more subtle flavor than the stalk, and it worked well.
Bite number two: tuna tartar on a potato pancake. Maybe the size of a nickel. Excellent tuna.
Bite number three: a fritter, I think mushrooms. I was distracted because it was then I noticed that the panna cotta spoons are gone. Neither of us saw them cleared away. I love invisible hand service!
Bite number four: a breadstick about the size of a short pencil, with prosciutto wrapped on the end.
We looked around the room. Again, the same design elements, but even lusher. Billowy burnt orange drapes that spanned the large windows, high ceilings, the same curved chandelier shape, rendered in glass this time. On our table, a small oil lamp, again with the same squared off pyramid shape, also rendered in glass. A small glas vase on the table with a lone purple orchid. The main wait station in the center of the room had enormous glass vases, full three quarters with water, and floating on top of that dozens of the same purple orchids.
The first course (the real amuse bouche) was a cylindrical crisp, filled with a yellowtail (hamachi) salad and caviar served over carrot-ginger pearls. Yes, carrot-ginger pearls. There was a small bed of them, they were round, translucent, and orange, and looked like large salmon roe. They tasted of carrot and ginger, and I have no idea how they were prepared. Meanwhile the fish and caviar were great alone and together, and that was true of mixing them with the carrot-ginger. Plus the bubbly champagne did well to compliment the oil of the fried crisp.
Next wine, Turley "White Coat" a California blend of vmostly viognier and rousanne (a Rhone grape, I asked). Very flavorful, but very light mouth feel, not sweet cloying at all. Went extremely well with the first appetizer, scallops with parsley linguine served in a sea urchin sauce. The scallops cooked perfectly - to the point of doneness, and no further. Nothing remotely rubbery about them. The sea urchin sauce gave a brilliant pink-orange color and a mild fish taste. The linguine was flavorful and soft, melting in the mouth, just enough herb to offset the seafood of the dish.
At this point we also started commenting about the dishes. They were all different shapes. The small plate with our [censored] bonus course was a rectangle, the amuse bouche was a round dish with a small shallow bowl and exaggerated wide lip. Later dishes were diagonal, round plates, bowls or square. All with the same gold pattern around the edge. And of course, the silverware was silver. Back to the meal.
Next wine was another surprise. It was a white from the Loire Valley of France, Domaine des Baumard Quarts de Chaume. I can only remember this because after asking the sommelier later what it was we were having, he asked if we would like a copy of the day's menu. I am looking at it now. Although I had trouble with the name, I cannot forget the wine. It was a deep yellow, almost orange in color, thick, and sweet (hey got it right this time). Once again, it got even better with the food. The course was foie gras with a small salad of baby turnip greens, dried grapes (not raisins, the grapes were oven-dried) and blood orange, with a blood orange reduction.
It was beyond good.
I have had foie gras multiple times. I enjoy the rich fattiness of it, that round texture that is like other animal fat, but without any trace of a chewy texture. So I order it almost always if it is on a menu. This was a superior preparation.
The seasoning of the foie gras went almost to the edge of being salty, teasing out all of the flavor, melting the fat even before I could chew it. And the blood orange reduction added sweetness, accentuated by the wine, that mellowed it all out. Just perfect.
They could have served that to us two more times and we would have been perfectly happy.
As it happened we had fish next: turbot, which I find has the same moist smooth texture that Chilean sea bass does. It was cooked (probably pan seared) so that the skin took on a crisp texture and golden color, without burning. It was served in a red wine sauce and topped with a mix of salsafis, almonds, and black truffle shavings. The fish was delicious, and the wine, a French pinot noir, was another good pairing. But I want to talk about that little slice of truffle.
Unlike foie gras, or sea urchin, I had never had black truffles before. It looked like black glass, smelled like an earthy mushroom, felt like biting into a silky mushroom, and tasted of aged parmesan cheese. That was the unmistakable sensation I got - a mushroom of aged cheese.
Somewhere I had learned about
umami or "savory", the fifth basic taste to go along with sweet, sour, bitter, and salt. I also knew that aged cheese could be high in umami. Tonight I checked, and truffles are busting with umami. So I am not completely crazy.
The last course before dessert was wagyu beef in a bordelaise sauce, with parsley puree, porcini mushroom, and potato gnocchi covered with a slice of aged parmesan. Here's a picture:
When we ordered the tasting menu, the waiter told us (in his delightful French accent) that the Wagyu beef was very rich, highly marbelized, and that the portion would be 2 1/2 ounces. If we wanted more, we could order it now at $30 an ounce. I shook off the idea, not because of the price, but because I figured - it's a tasting menu, I'll have plenty of other food, even if 2 1/2 ounces is a really small portion.
Wrong
again, foodie wannabe! Those 2 1/2 ounces were unbelievably filling. I had no idea what I was in for.
I had also never had wagyu or Kobe beef before. I knew it was fattier, and shrugged off the reputation as snobbery. Not so, at least not with the selection of meat and quality of preparation we had that night. The easiest way to describe it is beef foie gras. It had that same unmistakable fat texture, only it was clearly beef.
The wine was a 2001 Valdicava Brunello di Montalcino, and it was delicious. The mushroom was really a stem, and a puree of porcini clinging to it like paint on a brush (gorgeous and delicious) and the gnocchi had to be as much dairy as potato. The parsley puree had a strong enough flavor to stand up to that richness, but a simple clean taste to balance it all out.
Still with me?
We got our dessert wine (a moscatel) just before the first dessert. That was a molten cheesecake, served in a shotglass, topped with a layer of passion fruit and a graham crumble. Imagine a cheesecake pudding, only more liquid. I almost licked the shotglass clean.
Next dessert - a vanilla nougat coated with a skin of dark chocolate, and praline ice cream with caramel hazelnut chunks. It was as good as it sounds. The nougat especially, had the consistency of a marshmallow, but the taste of egg, sugar, and vanilla. The chocolate skin was an unbelievably uniform coating.
Cartman voice: I could not possibly eat another bite of this goodness...wait, maybe I can.
Service all night was the same invisible feel as that first spoon vanishing. Dishes and glasses were taken away often without notice, new utensils and glasses often just seemed to appear. N used the ladies' room, and her napkin was not folded and put in place, but entirely replaced with a new one. The waiters were attentive without being obtrusive. The sommelier answered my questions without sucking up to me or talking down to me, and with humor and anecdotes.
We were sated, happy, and at least a little drunk. Time for coffee!
We both ordered espresso, and when it was served we also received a tiered plate of little sweets. The meal started with a gift course, and ended that way. But this time we simply could not do it. They were the size of dimes, and I could only manage a couple of nibbles.
Luckily for us, there was yet another gift. On the way out, a hostess gave us a small bag of macaroons to take with us. We ate one each the next morning, and had the rest when we got home. I still have the bag, now empty for close to two weeks. I'd rather not let it go.