Last night I had dinner at Next – I would say “finally”, except that it was only a week ago that I made the reservation. It seemed longer, though, since I was starting to feel like a child waiting for Christmas morning. By the time the big day rolled around, I’d started to worry that a letdown might be inevitable.
Happily, I can report that post-dinner, there was no letdown.
As soon as we sat down, the twosome at the next table leaned over to offer some giddy commentary on the menu. “The duck is unbelievable!” “When you get the hors d’oeuvres, save the foie gras for last!” Then they turned to the table on their other side to take a few celebratory photos with them. There may also have been some high fives.
Bonding is quick at Next – it’s like being part of a secret club, with a lively, celebratory atmosphere that helps the experience and the food live up to expectations.
With the amount of exposure Next has gotten lately, every detail of the Escoffier-inspired menu has already been discussed and dissected online (and yes, I read most of it), so I had a good idea of how the dinner would progress. We started with a silver tray of hors d’oeuvres, each a tiny masterpiece – pork rillette on a cracker the size of a postage stamp, mushroom-stuffed leek, a quail egg topped with lemon zest and anchovy, brandade mousse with truffled egg custard served in an eggshell, and the foie gras, impeccably smooth and meltingly soft inside its brioche encasement. The guys at the next table were right – that was my favorite by far.
Next up, turtle consommé. I have a vague but persistent memory that some turtle species were once hunted nearly to extinction by would-be soup makers, so this dish made me a little uneasy. I ended up more interested in the unusual wine pairing, a “vin jaune” from the Jura mountains. It tastes almost exactly like sherry, though not fortified, and comes in a squat bottle that looks as if someone chopped the bottom third off a regular wine bottle. (Apparently this is meant to symbolize the loss of wine due to evaporation during the aging process.)
For most of the meal, everything ran like clockwork – each course was perfectly timed, the servers executed flawless handoffs, and there was never a crumb on the table. But it’s obvious that everyone working at Next is aware of the incredible expectations; one server confessed, “The next morning, we think back over every tiny flaw from the night before.” There were a few small hiccups in the service, perhaps unsurprisingly, given it’s week two, but overall I was struck by how knowledgeable and enthusiastic everyone was. I was also struck by the outfits – brownish shirts and high-necked black vests that looked like the uniforms of futuristic train conductors.
Our meal continued with two elaborately plated courses – sole and chicken. The sole was presented with a mousse-stuffed crayfish head and a golf ball-sized roll intended to sop up the rich sauce. (I ate my roll with butter instead. What can I say, I love butter.)
The chicken, a thin, diamond-shaped piece beneath a layer of foie gras sauce, was accompanied by two rounds of poached cucumber stuffed with chicken mousse and wrapped in thinly sliced pork belly. I was surprised by how much I liked the cucumber, which had a firm texture and far more flavor than I’d have expected. Since the chicken was so tender, I asked our server how it had been cooked. “Butter poached,” came the response. I couldn’t resist saying, “Oh, I thought maybe it was cooked sous vide” – and he laughed and nodded. The consensus at Next is that Escoffier would have loved this modern technology.
At last, it was time for the duck. For some reason, I had a vision of tableside duck pressing, but alas this was not to be. The sauce came in a gravy boat along with a platter of duck breast slices and confit leg and thigh, garnished with a big bunch of thyme. This was, without a doubt, the best duck I’ve ever had. Too often, I find duck breast a bit chewy and gamy. Here, the texture was buttery soft, and the sauce was perfect.
Salad came next, a refreshing break from the previous rich courses. Then it was on to dessert, a “Bombe Ceylan”. While it wasn’t quite as exquisitely presented as the savory courses, this is the dish I most wish I could have again – a light, seemingly simple ice cream dessert combining coffee, rum, and chocolate. The icy, rummy layer of the bombe was one of the best things I’ve tasted in a long time.
Every dish on the menu is listed with its number from Escoffier’s Guide Culinaire, so it’s easy to look up the recipes. Can I replicate the bombe at home? Well, the recipe for a Bombe Ceylan is this, in its entirety:
“Coat the mold with coffee ice and fill it with a rum bombe-preparation.”
Hmm.
Seeing the brevity of an Escoffier recipe makes me all the more appreciative of every detailed and creative dish I tasted. I’m already looking forward to the “next” iteration of Next.
Also at Next
Saroche barge in Champagne
Salzburg: a few of my favorite things
Next: French Laundry
Beach time!