Finest Binge: Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare

Securing Friday night seats at Cesar Ramirez's Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare locked in the dates I'd travel to New York.  My first awareness of Brooklyn Fare came when reading of New York's Michelin-starred restaurants.  The phrase "3-star BYO" grabbed my attention.  By the time I made it back to NYC, the price had been raised & it was no longer BYO.  Despite that, I was intrigued by the concept.  Stripped down creature comforts and outstanding food--a Michelin 3 star meal at a stainless steel counter--is a unique proposition.  As I have always cared much more about food than service or atmosphere, I was excited to see this taken to an extreme.

We were rushed to arrive in time for our 7 o'clock reservation and were politely directed to take 2 stools in the middle of the stainless steel countertop.  After flipping through the new, well-thought-out wine list and chatting with the Chef I settled on a bottle of 2009 Prager Steinriegl Riesling.  Quickly, food began to appear.

First came a warm butternut squash soup with yogurt & citrus; pure squash flavor, a very good start.  Then many raw seafood bites.  These sashimi courses shared several similar components: a piece of meat, one or two flavorful sauces (a scant amount, typically hidden beneath the protein), one or two garnishes (wasabi, horseradish, scallion, etc.), and a service piece seemingly crafted for that specific, perfect specimen of meat.  A scallop bite suffered from too potent of a lime foam, but all others were deliciously prepared and showed great skill in complimentary flavors.  This raw portion of the meal was roughly 8-10 courses (taking notes or pictures is not allowed, and when Chef caught us trying to memorize all the courses--via "the picnic game"--he scolded us.  "Don't be so serious, it's just food.  Enjoy it.").

By this point in the meal, we were catching onto the room's rhythm.  Most of the dishes & sauces were already prepped, so the kitchen staff's (4 people total) primary activity was plating.  This invoked significant, precise use of tweezers to pull ingredients from small metal trays and build the end dish.  We admired the collection of glowing copper pots and the simplicity of the operation.

Enter the warm dishes.  Still entirely seafood-focused, with some accoutrements similar to the cold dishes, but featuring different proteins and the inclusion of various cooking techniques.  A bit of sea urchin with black truffle was especially memorable.  One item (Fluke) was overcooked but all others were spot-on.  Servings progressed to be slightly larger, requiring a couple bites.  Many courses into the warm portion, Chef pulled out a caviar tin.  The tin in one hand, a large spoon in the other, he scooped.  We watched.  He dropped--the full spoon--into a service piece.  Our jaws dropped with it.  I believe one tin made it through 7 servings, then he opened another to finish the remainder.  A stunningly large dollop of caviar, which was placed atop creme fraiche with only minor additional flavor components, then given a dose of woodsmoke & capped for a couple of minutes.  It was creamy, rich, savory, and delicious--a knockout.  We estimate 6-8 small warm courses were served.

Basking in the glow of smokey caviar, we were settled in, past the half way point, enjoying the food & experience.  Impressive wine service & stemware (Zalto), continually creative service pieces, and an attentive staff belied the reality that this is, in plain terms, a kitchen attached to a grocery store.  Chatting with Chef & watching the crew plate was a unique, enjoyable perspective.  The only component of the setting that happened to detract on this night: the seating arrangement.  Guests to our left were, bluntly, rather large.  The male of that couple was seemingly unaware of this fact, making my personal space Poland to his frame's Germany.  Among restaurants serving the caliber of food present at The Chef's Table, this is likely a unique problem.  Some may be put-off by the stools themselves--we weren't--but the consequences of a broad-set neighbor will be felt by anyone subject to the scenario.  Luckily my ladyfriend & I, both on the small side, could comfortably scoot closer together.

Next came a few composed plates; dishes of multiple ingredients and sauces.  The standout here was a dish of abalone, fois gras, a ravioli-esque dumpling, multiple sauces, and a few other components.  This was a fantastic course showcasing great skill by cooking & combining multiple proteins in a way that the textures and flavors worked perfectly together.  A delicious duck plate was also served, heightened by a mushroom component the burst with flavor.  Then came the cheese course, which my friend greeted by saying, "No...no.  This means we're near the end.  I don't want to be finished."  I agreed; the quality of the meal had made time and 20+ courses fly by.  The dessert courses were creative--riesling sorbet and chocolate ice cream with gold flake among them--and worthy of finishing the dinner, but not standouts in the context of earlier dishes.  We were sad to see it end, but left grinning.

Discussing this meal in the days that followed, we consistently praised the precision and flavors showcased throughout the night.  This is clearly market- and chef-driven omakase executed at an extremely high level (plus the new Brooklyn Fare wine list was impressive).  However, while the in-the-kitchen view is a unique concept, I'm not sure that it is more enjoyable than a dining room setting.  Only a modest amount of cooking occurred at the time of service, so most observable activities were plating, blending, and saucing.  Considering the limited privacy (and space, given my experience) due to guests' proximity and the engagement feels a bit like being at a party where you only know one other person.  That said, it's an impressive, unique dining experience and any downside of the format is more than made up for by the quality of the food served.  Clearly of the highest quality, this meal was a great way to start our week of memorable meals.