Coi

Foie Gras Ice Cream.

Those four words alone could serve as a summary of the outstanding meal Lou and I shared on Friday night at Coi (pronounced Kwah).

I had read about Coi a few times over the last year, including most recently in the current issue of Food & Wine. I can’t say that anything I had read led me to want to break down the door, but it was on my list of restaurant to try. Then, Lou had dinner with a friend on Thursday night and when he mentioned that I had recently experienced a wonderful meal at Alinea while I was in Chicago in March his friend suggested that we try out Coi, where Daniel Patterson performs his own version of molecular gastronomy.

On the way to the pool on Friday night we called over to see if we could reserve a table. Success! They could seat us at 8:45. We hurried through our workout and headed over for dinner.

I was completely unprepared for what was about to unfold. My impressions about the restaurant were so vague and off-based that I did not know we would end up having one of the best meals I’ve eaten so far this year (it’s been a good year for eating out so far). We let the talented staff spoil and pamper us, we soaked in the sleek, but warm design of the dining room and we enjoyed every bite of memorable feast Patterson and his staff prepared for us.



You can see from the menu that Patterson has constructed an eleven course tasting menu, priced at $115. We chose the full tasting—as opposed to a four course mini-tasting menu priced for less—and asked that they serve us both options, which we would share, when the menu allowed for two choices on certain courses. I learned that lesson at Hatfield’s—we were able to taste everything on the menu. We also ordered the wine pairings to go along with our meal, in large part because the sommelier enthusiastically described some of his innovative wine parings (more on the wine later). Before we were seated, I did not know that the menu was designed as a tasting menu, so I was very much surprised, and delighted, to read about what was in store for us.

I’ll spare you every detail about each course, but a few of the courses are worth commenting on in detail:

The first course was a compote, I suppose, of pink grapefruit, ginger, tarragon and black pepper foam, served in a small bowl set on a long, rectangular plate. The bowl was set to the left side of the plate, and on the right side was a drop of Coi perfume (on sale for $49). Our server instructed us to rub the perfume on our wrists, smell it and then begin to eat the dish. The aroma was light and flowery (neither one of us could identify the exact flower scent), but the combination of the smell with the cool acidity of the grapefruit and the spice of the ginger and the depth of the tarragon, all topped with black pepper foam (which was actually white) was a thoroughly inviting way to begin the meal. The combinations were all fresh, light and airy, and I felt a little like we were settling on a cloud. The dish was paired with Champagne, of course, which only enhanced our sense of delight and good feelings.

Next up: Yuba “Pappardelle” with soy milk, English peas, fava beans and leaves and flowers. The dish was a modern twist on the traditional dish of peas and cream sauce over pasta, but Patterson’s version was modernized using more healthy ingredients. Yuba—the skin from tofu—replaced the pasta and soy milk took the place of the cream. The peas were still peas, though they were very fresh and enhanced by the addition of fava beans and “leaves and flowers.” I suppose the dish actually was healthier than the traditional dish, but what struck me about it was the lovely lightness and freshness of the dish, which pleasantly evoked the season and excited my palate.

The third outstanding dish was the slow cooked farm egg farro stew, garden rosemary, parmesan. I thought this dish was an interpretation on eggs and grits. The egg, which had been slowly simmered in the shell for several hours and then cooked in the stew, was perfectly set on top of the stew. The farro stew was white in color, creamy, somewhat thick, rich, and both soft and warm. A light parmesan foam, with bits of rosemary, rested on top of the egg and the stew. The yolk of the egg mixed in with the stew, and combined with the rosemary and foam to make tasty and rich comfort food. It was the best dish of all the non-dessert courses.



Finally, the piece de resistance was the second dessert. On the menu, the second dessert was listed as a chocolate parfait, served with cucumber ice cream. Interesting, huh? The cucumber ice cream by itself was light and refreshing; the way that water infused with cucumbers is light and refreshing. The chocolate part of the dessert was made up of a thin chocolate wafer, which separated the ice cream from a thick, dense, rich bittersweet chocolate mousse. Separately, the ice cream and the chocolate mousse were terrific, but together they didn’t quite work. Chocolate and cucumbers do not naturally compliment each other. It was the only dish all night that left us disappointed.

I told our server that I didn’t think the two worked well together, and she told us that the cucumber and chocolate combination was new. She said that they used to pair the chocolate with foie gras ice cream. I almost lost it. I oooed and ahhhed, and I told her I thought foie gras ice cream and chocolate sounded like an amazing combination. I also asked if we could taste the ice cream. She said she’d check with the pastry chef. A few minutes later she returned to our table with one new plate of chocolate parfait, with foie gras ice cream. We tasted the ice cream alone and then with the chocolate, and both ways it was better than I had imagined. The ice cream was uber-buttery and rich. The taste was not so much of foie gras, per se, as more just intense, smooth, soft and rich (perhaps that is the taste of foie gras). How can you go wrong with triple fat ice cream? But, with the chocolate, the ice cream was so over-the-top and amazing, I honestly can barely describe the sensation of each of those bites. The richness and the buttery flavor of the ice cream set a platform for the chocolate to soar (sorry for the cheesy language, but that’s all that comes to mind). It was inspired. We ate every bite.

We both raved to the server, and I begged her, for the good of all foodies in the world, to persuade the pastry chef to return the ice cream to the menu. She told us that they had only recently removed the ice cream because so many Coi diners seemed slightly unsettled by the idea of foie gras ice cream and the wait staff had offered to make so many substitutions that the chef decided to pull it from the menu. Shameful. Judging from the reaction of people I’ve told about the ice cream, I’m beginning to understand why they took it off the menu. Even though I enthusiastically described the dish to several people, most of them looked at me with more or less blank stares or made comments of indifference. Oh well. Foie gras ice cream is a dessert that no restaurant will top. Wow. Before leaving the subject, I wanted to mention how the pastry chef came up with the idea (I was somewhat shocked I had never seen it before). Our server told us that he had been served a savory dish of foie gras with a drizzling of chocolate, and that led him to think of pairing chocolate and foie gras, with the foie gras in the form of ice cream. I thought it was brilliant.

Finally—I know this has turned into a long posting—the wines. The very enthusiastic sommelier made some bold and risky choices, and I’m not sure all of them worked. While many of his choices were inspired—the sake pairing for the Kampachi Sashimi and the sherry for the artichoke dish—but the Madeira which he paired with the leek terrine while a good pairing, made for an abrupt change from the wines and sake served immediately before it. Also, the Chenin Blanc, to which he added freshly squeezed lime juice and was paired with the yuba pappardelle, was underwhelming. As a Chenin Blanc fan, I would have preferred to taste the wine without the enhancement, but it was interesting trying it out. Also, he served a second Madeira with the chocolate, and while a good pairing, I would have preferred a port or another wine, especially after having a Madeira earlier in the meal. He was charming and fun, and I’m happy we accepted his experiments, but overall, I’m not sure they worked.

Despite my grumblings about a few of the wine pairings, I highly recommend Coi. Go now, before you can’t get in without waiting two months!