The Riches Of Humm: Eleven Madison Park

[Pigging by Wilfrid: February 22, 2008]

Daniel Humm is well-established as one of the most gifted young chefs in the city, who elevated Eleven Madison Park (EMP) from a palatial dining room delivering competent, interesting new American cuisine to simply one of the best restaurants in the city.

I visited frequently in chef Daniel's early days, and only desisted as the menu paused on a number of well-considered signature dishes.  But it has continued to evolve of course, so I returned...

(Above: foie in a pain d'epices millefeuille; tuna-radish with hint of fennel; crisp sweetbread cone - slightly oily, a little bouche the filling of which I forget.  Then the same again, backwards.)

...with a party of experts, of course.  I didn't order or eat all the food you'll see here, although I tasted most of it.  Nor, I should say, did I take all the photographs - which reveal an entertaining diversity of styles.

Describing is better than reviewing, for once.  Assume it was a top-flight experience.  If there was any complaint, it's that the charming Humm, unlike many chefs in town, manages to coax huge flavors out of the food - sometimes almost too much.  The meticulous detail of the dishes should put a number of noted New York chefs to shame.

Two oral explosions here, if I may, one to follow close upon the heels of the other.  An earthy goat cheese - milk from Lynnhaven's Nubian dairy goats my research tells me; a halo of olive oil.  Heirloom beet; a touch of balsamico.  But these are chill bubbles which burst on the tongue.   I thought the vinegar accent not so harsh as to be reminiscent of pickled beets, but one feeder disagreed.  I found it a good wake-up.

Contrastingly soothing was a foamy velouté of parsnip with floating mushrooms, scented with hazelnut oil, and too virginally white to be worth photographing.  Nice, but the chanterelle velouté recently enjoyed at Grayz just eclipsed it.

The older I get, the more I agree with the school of thought which finds crab the tastiest and most worthwhile of common crustacea.  Well treated, it does have a deeper, sweeter flavor than most lobster.  Here, succulent crab meat from Cape Cod Bay is touched with lime and yoghurt and encased in avocado - which, importantly, did not dominate the dish.  Avocado can be pushy.

Kampachi raw, with hearts of palm.  A pretty picture.

I was pleased to see the menu has ceased boasting the foie's provenance as "Elevages Périgord", because I would never have tired of reminding them that it was, in fact, from Quebec.  Anyway, this is a preparation I've not seen at EMP before: a very soft and smooth terrine with the contrasting tangs of grapefruit and pickled onion.

A scallop tartare, which caused an unseemly squabble over the little dabs of uni.  I remained aloof, of course.  Apparently excellent.

Gnocchi, made from "La Ratte" potatoes and garnished unusually - I thought - with shrimp and squid.   

An outstanding halibut dish, even if a little sweet.  The sauce is a creamy nage with pieces of seafood.   

One of the restaurant's signature touches is now the pouring of flavored oil at the table to give a dish a last-minute lift.  This crispy piece of Mediterranean sea-bass was anointed with chorizo oil, and I believe it's wrapped in paper-thin chorizo too (I had thought prosciutto, but no...).  The colors represent the flavor: a vivid dish.

One of the only visually flat creations to come out of the kitchen, the rectangle of venison is sitting on a grey-ish, but perfectly pleasant, mushroom sauce.  The meat had been prepared using one of those sinister long-cooking techniques, rendering it butter-soft without cooking it past pink.  It wasn't gamey venison (sourced from Millbrook Farm).  I think the sheer silkiness of the texture made it a little cloying.  A shred of bacon perched on top.

This course, like the rabbit, threatened to overwhelm through the sheer punch of the accompanying side.  The chef had take shoulder of venison, braised it, and served it like a shepherd's pie with a creamy potato topping.

Compare this grand composition: it must be about the loveliest rabbit dish I've ever seen.  Celery and foie sauces.  For domestic rabbit, about as good as it gets.  The side dish here was de trop.  Braised rabbit, this time, with a topping of soft polenta.  Very good, but you only needed a spoonful. 

The blockbuster, though, is the duck, roasted for two people with a sweet lavender honey glaze and a swarm of spices.  The precise contrast between crunchy skin and tender flesh has made this a famed dish. 

Althought dessert is included in the prix fixe, the series of amuses and sheer heft of flavor in the meat dishes left most of the party defeated.  Perhaps for the first time in my life, I didn't try to name every cheese on the cheese trolley, and settled for the server's selection.  This left me room to fall upon the petits fours.  Macarons with a chocolate filling, tiny brioche sliders, jam tarts, a fittingly gooey and decisive finish to the evening.

I resorted to fine Marc de Bourgogne to aid digestion.  Another aid was the check, which thanks to the restaurant's exceptionally generous BYO policy (four bottles per table with no charge: correction, $35 per bottle up to four bottles*), didn't exceed $200 including tax and tip for this feast, with cocktails and digestifs. 

On the subject of BYO, I should mention a staggeringly good 1973 Viña Bosconia, which shed gust upon gust of old Rioja vapors - library, slippers, cigar, leather gloves, nuts 'n' raisins - while maintaining fruit and some tannic grip.

Full disclosure: the member of the party who made the reservation was known to the restaurant, and several others were doubtless recognized.  But we paid our way.

If you haven't already, make EMP's acquaintance here.

*I am not sure if we were charged corkage, as I didn't see the check.  I think that's still a generous policy, but it's worth knowing that there's a $250 sommelier fee if you exceed four bottles.  Probably better to order the fifth from the list.