My dad had the tomato soup in puff pastry and the daube au boef, both apparently delicious. I tried the the Quenelles with Pike in a Lobster sauce. To describe: imagine a great cup of gefilte fish, but take away the preservative jelly and whatnot and replace with creamy essence of lobster. Voila. I happen to be a huge fan of gefilte fish, but I know this description may not make the dish sound as delicious it was. Quand meme.
Next up was steak tartare. Those who know me know how much I enjoy this dish. To take a raw ingredient and make it palatable is a miracle that requires the freshest of ingredients. And my North Star, to refer to an unfortunate oral argument, is that served at Bistro Max and Julie in Houston. Theirs has a wonderful unctuousness from the raw egg that mixes very well with the brininess of the capers, all resting upon the well seasoned and fresh beef. But, Jeanty is my new North Star. All of the above qualities were present, but the beef had a sweetness I've never experienced before. It was a though Elsie herself and procured my cut. Thank you, Elsie.
All the while I had a nice glass of pastis in a really cool Ricard glass, though I'm a Pernod man.
If there was a downside it was that neither the bread nor the butter had anything on Vegas' Bouchon, but I got some of that at dinner, at the French Laundry . . .