César – New York, NY

Hard to believe my last post on a blog that costs me $40 monthly to keep online was in July. As is too often the case, I have a lot of catching up to do, and I figured the hallmark meal of my most recent trip to New York City back in May was a good place to start.

Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare was a fairly radical concept when it launched in 2009. Tucked into the back of a grocery store in its eponymous borough, the restaurant brought hyper-fine dining away from white tablecloths to a metal chef's counter; away from gilded breastsummers and velvet banquettes to the back room of an otherwise granola bodega; and away from Manhattan to Brooklyn, of all places!

A somewhat rare photo of the interior of the original Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare. PC: Eater

Chef César Ramírez had the city's (and the Michelin Guide's) attention, and commanded almost godlike respect among critics and diners for his sprawling tasting menu, which could last dozens of courses and span three or more hours. A full complement of Michelin stars followed, to this day the only three-star joint in Brooklyn's history.

At the same time, Chef's stern hegemony over his kitchen and dining room was also infamous––absolutely no phones, no photos, and no note-taking. Don't follow the rules? To paraphrase another opprobrious New York chef: "no uni toast for you!"

Puzzlingly, despite having "Brooklyn" in the name, the restaurant relocated to Manhattan in 2016. Three-quarters of a decade after the move, New York Times critic Pete Wells called Ramírez's mastery of ingredients “almost supernatural.” But less than a year later, the simmering tensions between Chef and the restaurant's owner boiled over, and the culinary world reeled from the news that the kitchen had closed and Chef César and CTBF had parted ways.

Chef César at the pass in his new digs. PC: Grub Street

In the midst of the litigation and accusations deployed by both parties since the closure, Ramírez quietly leased space in the up-and-coming Hudson Square neighborhood of SoHo. In 2024, his new venture, César, opened to diners, swiftly earning two Michelin stars with a goal to reclaim the former glory of three. Chef's Table, meanwhile, reopened and re-earned two stars of its own from kitchen co-leaders Max Natmessnig and Marco Prins, former employees at the original CTBF.

As with the projects of most public figures embroiled in intrigue and controversy, the launch of César hasn't been without PR bumps. And indeed, some lukewarm reviews I read online gave me pause about choosing César as the spot to enjoy a tasting menu on my most recent trip to New York City. But after hearing a resounding endorsement from Chef Justin at Aubergine, I booked a table for two, to be joined by New York friend and fellow fine dining enthusiast Jake on my last night in the city. After all, no sense passing judgment until you've experienced the thing yourself!

An old printing press building from the 1920s is César's home, with 16-foot ceilings and a view of the open kitchen and kitchen staff in comically tall chef hats from every table, with Chef César himself presiding over the pass. The pinnacle of the action is at the chef's counter, where about a dozen seats overlook the kitchen, but the counter seemed to be intentionally empty this particular evening; instead, Jake and I were sat at one of the best tables in the corner of the dining room with a wonderful perspective over the elegant space. On the table was a whimsical little card welcoming us, and Chef made his way over to briefly greet us as we got settled in.

The sommelier greeted us with a glass of anonymous Champagne, and though we brought two bottles to open, an absolutely outrageous $200 (!!) corkage fee per bottle pulled us back to just opening one bottle. I perused the somewhat brief list for a suitable white wine to accompany the first half of the meal, planning to open a beautiful red Burgundy with the meatier dishes. I settled on a Smaragd Riesling from one of my favorite producers in the Wachau in Austria––F. X. Pichler. Austrian dry Riesling is absolutely electric, with arresting acidity and a lush underbelly of aromatic, waxy fruit. Glorious and versatile with each of the first dishes.

A cylindrical cracker filled with smoked trout rillettes was first up, with an effortless crisp that faded right into the smoky creaminess of the fish. Swiftly after, a take on a piece of nigiri featured a glistening slice of shima aji over nori with ginger and a light balsamic drizzle.

Sweet Norwegian langoustines were the basis of the next dish, served inside a monaka shell, a Japanese dessert snack traditionally filled with akuzi bean paste. The langoustines were topped with caviar and shiso flower––delicious. Next was a take on fish and chips, with kisu, or Japanese whiting, "woven" into a potato chip, which was the least successful of the first four bites, but still perfectly tasty.

Jake would remark that the first quartet of dishes reminded him of very elevated permutations of things you might get in a Japanese convenience store––mostly in a good way! The shima aji and the langoustines were particularly compelling, and the Pichler was a killer pairing with each bite. A strong if not perfect start.

If Chef César has a signature dish, it is his uni toast. A square of brioche is the vehicle for generous heaps of sea urchin from Hokkaido atop a layer of black truffle. With all the hype for this dish, I almost anticipated being underwhelmed, but certainly was not. And Jake, who enjoys uni in only limited quantities, offered me the balance of his toast as well. So much glorious, urchiny goodness.

The uni toast, though, would only be the dish of the night fleetingly, quickly dethroned by a lean bluefin tuna "parfait" gelled into tomato water with caviar atop. Each bite was delicate yet impossibly flavorful. Jake and I agreed it was the best plate so far, and the first "wow" bite of the night. A consommé with ramps and mushrooms was a lovely taste of springtime and also quite lovely, but paled compared to the two course that preceded it.

The sommelier reappeared to let us know he thought it was a good time for red wine, and I had brought a bottle of Burgundy from D'Angerville, their Volnay Champans bottling from 2016. This was terrific and in a great spot, resplendent with aromatic red fruit and cherries, with some earth and umami and the marked intensity of a low-yield vintage.

With the first sips of Volnay came "Surf and Turf," playing with perfect barely-touched scallop and seared foie gras and served with fresh spring peas. Seared sawara, or Spanish mackerel, followed shortly after, seared rare and shining with the addition of a mouthwatering vermouth and yuzu sauce.

Last on the regular menu was chef's signature squab, with a zucchini flower stuffed with squab farce. Every bit as glorious as promised, and with the earthy D'Angerville was truly exceptional. As we say in the restaurant and wine biz, 1+1=3!

We'd added all the supplements for this meal and so closed the savory courses with a bonus A4 Wagyu with mole bordelaise sauce as well as huitlacoche, a savory fungus used in Mexican cooking that infects corn. What I loved about this dish was it was the first to reflect Chef's Mexican heritage. The mole was soulful, yet elevated, and while the beef was just slightly undercooked for my liking (I tend to think fattier cuts of meat deserve a tiny bit more temperature than medium-rare to help the fat render, without sacrificing tenderness), the dish as a whole was a lovely way to end the savory courses.

Jake and I must have either been feeling lightheaded from the wine or deep in conversation, because my notes end at the last savory course, and since I'm revisiting this meal months later, I have little idea what was included in the dessert selections.

There is, however, one important exception––Chef's signature frozen soufflé, made with strawberries. Like an icy cloud with the essence of early-season berries, it was a wonderful way to end the meal, and was a rather successful pairing with the last gulps of the Volnay!

Chef Ramírez and team are clearly on a mission to reclaim the third star he held at Chef's Table. Some of the smaller dishes like the uni toast and tuna in tomato water with caviar belong firmly in the three-star column, while others could, to my mind, use a shade more development––the "fish and chips," for example. The mains, meanwhile, were with few exceptions magnificent, and while not necessarily boundary-pushing and generally classic in composition, make a strong case for a third star in the future.

The only offensive thing about the meal was the $200 corkage fee. As a professional in this industry, I understand that corkage is an important tool to claw back some of the money that you may have lost from not having a guest order off the list, and to deter diners from bringing their own wine and instead encourage them to make a selection from the cellar. But $200 is bananas, especially for a wine program that is still very much in its infancy and developing––three-starred SingleThread, for example, one of the most expensive restaurants in the world, charges $150 per bottle, and openly discourages guests from bringing their own wine, but SingleThread has one of the most comprehensive cellars in the country, and even they haven't pushed their corkage to $200. Indeed, while I found this to be an excellent meal, I also found the price of the menu itself pretty unreasonable.

But still, a wonderful meal and another excellent trip to New York City! The deluge of rain finally cleared on my last morning, and I got a magnificent shot over the city on a vibrant spring day on the departure from LaGuardia.