Balthazar
It took us a week to get a reservation, but who cares? It’s Balthazar.
The hostess was very kind and seated us at an end table, the Parisian kind that is scooted out to accommodate the woman in the couple. We were close to a couple from Texas, but there was enough buzz in the restaurant that we felt alone in the managed chaos. Our server was extraordinarily kind, very helpful and gracious. He made us feel like locals and had no question that we belonged in this restaurant, in this culinary palace. We started with field greens, which were fresh and lightly dressed, but over salted. The bread, however, was a spongy dark French sourdough that we could both eat forever (and perhaps we will.)
The entrees were entirely French in their conception and execution. I had steamed mussels in a white wine sauce, while Blake chose the duck confit. My mussels were served with pommes frites (French fries!) We both enjoyed our entrees immensely. Mussels take time to eat, as if you have to go wading for them, but that’s more than half the fun to me.
The portions were of a reasonable size, allowing for us both to order dessert. Blake chose the blackberry financier, while I went for the French mainstay of crème brulee. Both were very rich, but fafntastic. My crème brulee came in a very shallow, yet wide dish, allowing for an excess of crunchy burnt sugar surface area.
Balthazar was long a fantasy of mine and will remain a fantasy, filled with laughter, low golden lighting and the most fantastic French food available stateside.
The hostess was very kind and seated us at an end table, the Parisian kind that is scooted out to accommodate the woman in the couple. We were close to a couple from Texas, but there was enough buzz in the restaurant that we felt alone in the managed chaos. Our server was extraordinarily kind, very helpful and gracious. He made us feel like locals and had no question that we belonged in this restaurant, in this culinary palace. We started with field greens, which were fresh and lightly dressed, but over salted. The bread, however, was a spongy dark French sourdough that we could both eat forever (and perhaps we will.)
The entrees were entirely French in their conception and execution. I had steamed mussels in a white wine sauce, while Blake chose the duck confit. My mussels were served with pommes frites (French fries!) We both enjoyed our entrees immensely. Mussels take time to eat, as if you have to go wading for them, but that’s more than half the fun to me.
The portions were of a reasonable size, allowing for us both to order dessert. Blake chose the blackberry financier, while I went for the French mainstay of crème brulee. Both were very rich, but fafntastic. My crème brulee came in a very shallow, yet wide dish, allowing for an excess of crunchy burnt sugar surface area.
Balthazar was long a fantasy of mine and will remain a fantasy, filled with laughter, low golden lighting and the most fantastic French food available stateside.
posted by Elin at 6:41 AM
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