Let’s continue (like it or not) on yesterday’s post… moving on to the places that came in in the actual top 50 spots on this year’s list. Two that I’m not going to expound on – Le Bernardin at #26 and Eleven Madison Park at #4 – as it’s been 20 years since I’ve been to either of them. The latter isn’t even serving the same kind of food they did when they first opened and I went. Interestingly (to me), in this group, there’s only one that I’ve tried to go to and not gone, Arzak, which during my four days in San Sebastian, maintained that there was simply no possibility of a reservation or a walk-in seat. Surprisingly, for me, as it hasn’t been true in past years, I’ve been to more in the top 50 than in the 51-100 group.

 

A simply amazing and elegant dining experience at the original (well, not really, as it’s moved, but at least original city) Astrid & Gascón in Lima, which came in at a well deserved #39 (it may deserve higher, I certainly enjoyed it more than a couple of the upcoming ones).

Pretty stunning building, no? And service is much more casual, the staff aren’t all done up in tuxes and dresses, they’re in much more classic waiter garb. There’s an open kitchen where you can watch the magic happen. It’s lively, it’s light, it’s immediately attractive. And while it’s still expensive, and obviously I’m comparing across two different countries, it isn’t ridiculous, especially for the quality and creativity of food.

 

When I wrote up Boragó in Santiago a couple of years ago, I was cautiously polite. The chef is friends with several of mine, and I didn’t want to say anything bad about the place. But I’m coming up on 60 this year, and I’m feeling entitled to start being a touch curmudgeonly. And I have no desire to go back. When I have the urge to pen a trashing of a restaurant, I often just write it up for myself (and maybe a few friends) and save it in a file, but then I post something a bit more innocuous, or, just don’t post at all. So for this one, and one more coming up, I’m going to place here what I really wanted to say.

And yes, that’s a pile of rocks on a platter with a tube of ice in which there’s an oyster and a couple of batons of chive. That was 1 of 16 courses on the tasting menu. Here’s what I wrote in that file:

I truly wanted to like this place a lot. It came not only with its reputation, but high recommendations from friends. It was, unfortunately, a jarring experience from moment one. It’s deathly quiet, and tables are spaced well apart, feeling like a research library. There’s barely time to sit down before the first course is in front of you, certainly no time for the proffered cocktail, the food is there before any beverage – water, cocktail, or wine arrives (I was on the third course before water “collected from a hidden pool in Patagonia” or a glass of wine got to the table). And the pace is unrelentingly fast, and a request to slow it down wasn’t even politely declined, just declined with a “No”. The cooks bring the food to the table and explain it, but they don’t have the hospitality skills of trained waiters, and the waitstaff who are there are relegated to order taking and beverages.

The food was intellectually interesting, and beautifully presented, and some of it was good, but no more than that. Some of it seemed little more than a gastronomic joke – several reviewers have mentioned the shiitake ice cream, a flavor and texture that I was still trying to erase from my memory and tastebuds hours later. For me, however, the literal stone soup, a bowl of hot water with three stones soaking in it “imparting their different flavors” left me, as the acronym goes, ROFL.

 

Although I’ve been, I don’t feel like I can truly appreciate Cosme, in New York City, which came in at #25. Having had a fantastic dining experience at Pujol (coming up next), the chef’s flagship restaurant in Mexico City, I really wanted to try it. I originally had dinner reservations there with my friend John, but on arrival they were so far behind on reservations, and the place was such a zoo, that we cancelled and went elsewhere. I returned solo for brunch the same week, just to get a sense of the place.

I have to admit, I’m a little surprised at the overwhelmingly amazed and breathless writing about this place. It’s not that it’s not good, they’ve got quite delicious food, but from what’s been written about it you’d think it was the same sort of intricate, elaborate, delicate preparations that his team is turning out for tasting menus at Pujol. Instead, it’s just prettied-up, really tasty, versions of the same sort of dishes you could see at any Mexican spot in town – tamales, enchiladas, burritos, tacos… not even with particularly offbeat ingredients.

 

A truly delicious meal at Pujol in Mexico City, which rightfully jumps from #20 last year to #13 this year. It’s nice to see restaurants in Latin America getting their recognition in the worldwide list, not just the Latin American list.

Thumbs up for inviting me back into the kitchen to see it and meet the chef de cuisine, I just wish it had been at the beginning of the meal rather than after… oh my… a cocktail, three glasses of wine, and a shot of mezcal that somehow the sommelier and I put together for me as a pairing sequence. I’m not sure I was entirely coherent nor my usual charming self – it’s kind of a blur, as are later parts of the meal. … But back to a summation – beautiful room, impeccable service (albeit, apparently, they will ply you with mucho alcohol), and delicious, beautiful food. Expensive. Worth it? Yes. Do it again? With fewer pairings, yes.

 

Likewise, Quintonil in Mexico City jumps from #22 last year to #11 this year. Personally, I liked Pujol more for the overall experience, particularly service and the room. The food, I liked them both quite a bit, but I didn’t really care for the ambiance at this place, and service was kind of stiff.

It’s not quite what I’d expect – it’s on a little side street off of a small plaza, it’s got a sliding patio door to enter it, and, it kind of looks inside like some sort of corporate lunchroom where they’re trying to convince you that they’re at least vaguely “green”. Service is… odd. It’s correct, it’s efficient, it’s emotionless – I don’t think I saw any expression on anyone’s face in the place that didn’t seem wooden. It doesn’t mean they didn’t come across as helpful and friendly, but it was like they’d all been trained not to let their face muscles loosen. … So, overall, the room doesn’t impress me. The service is as I described it above, correct but a bit wooden. The food, quite interesting, and for the most part, delicious. Not bad at all for one of the top restaurants out there.

 

Oh boy, this one hurt. Mugaritz in San Sebastian was, unequivocally, the worst dining experience I’ve had in a fine dining restaurant in my life. Another one where I tried to keep it polite in my original review, but kept the more sordid version in a saved file.

Seriously, I don’t get it. I’ve had “modernist” food in many places, and of varying quality, and I’ve eaten at high and low end dining spots the world over. I have no idea how this place rates so high. I felt like I was on the receiving end of practical joke by the kitchen gods. It’s a beautiful setting, no question, though a long drive from San Sebastian (add 20 euros each way to the cost of your meal). The room is pretty, though the tables are spaced so far apart that it doesn’t feel like there’s any energy in the room.

And unfortunately that carries over to the servers. With the exception of head waiter Jose Ramos, who seems to truly enjoy his work and chatting with people, not one server on the floor, at any moment, looked like they were happy to be there, I don’t think I’ve seen such a dour bunch of front of house staff, anywhere, anytime in my career. And most of them couldn’t answer simple questions about either the food nor the wine. The two sommeliers were just blatantly condescending and rude. When asked about the options for doing their full menu wine pairing, I was informed “it isn’t worth my time to do a wine pairing for one person”. A complete lack of hospitality.

And the food… I truly don’t even know what to say. I get the whole experimental thing. I get the whole let’s be creative and push the envelope thing. But given Mugaritz’ reputation, I expected that to be backed up by solid cooking, seasoning, and flavors. As the evening dragged on, I just wanted to cry, as dish after dish, gorgeously presented, arrived under or over seasoned (mostly under), and with clashing flavors and unpleasant textures – not in the way that provokes one to think about what one is eating, but in the, “why did you do this to this poor ingredient” way. Twenty plus courses, and not one of them memorable in a good way, and not one of them being something I’d want to put in my mouth again.

Honestly, of all the high end dining places I’ve eaten in my life, and of all the modernist spots I’ve been to, this has to rank at the bottom. And one of the most expensive meals I’ve ever had, anywhere.

 

I’ve eaten at Maido in Lima three times during my various visits. This year it shifts slightly from #8 to #7 on the list. I‘ve had great, even amazing food, all three times, and twice nearly impeccable service, with an off-day on the middle visit where service was just simply… off. I also spent a half-day in their kitchens with chef Mitsuharu Tsumura, a fantastic experience, capped off with a tasting menu afterwards.

I have to admit, by not much past midway in this meal, I was seriously considering bulimia as a lifestyle choice. It would have been fine had I not already been sampling my way through the kitchen for a couple of hours beforehand. Service was, thankfully, back to flawless, and good as the sushi that I’d had before was, there’s no question that the nikkei food is where this restaurant shines. And, very cool to make a new friend in Lima!

 

On that same trip, I’d hoped to get a chance to spend a little time in the kitchen at Central which came in at #6 this year, a drop of one position from #5 in 2017 (and #4 in both 2016 and 2015). But, it was not to be. Nor was a table in the dining room, the best I could do was a seat in the bar and a short bar menu to choose from. Henry and I had dinner there a couple of years earlier and it was a very good experience, but I’m not sure that I’d go much above that. I understand the creativity is what gets the place a lot of attention, as well as the service and the space, but I can’t say that I ate anything that wowed me, as I have at some of the places above. This year, I reserved to do the whole tasting menu, but then cancelled – I just couldn’t get excited enough to go there again, sorry.

Was it worth it? As a splurge evening out, yes. Is it the sort of place I’d rush back to? Probably not – it’s the kind of food I enjoy trying but not a regular basis, and for the price not that I’d expect more quality, which was top notch, but more quantity, which was a little lacking. Still, Recommended.

 

And that kind of wraps it up. There are places that I’ve been to in my travels and where I’ve lived that I don’t understand how they don’t make it onto the list. Tetsuya’s in Sydney comes to mind – easily the best dining experience of my life, but then, that was back in 2002, and it was on the list from 2002-2010, five of those years in the top 10. I don’t know what happened that it dropped off the list after that. I think of places like Nomad or Jean-Georges in New York and wonder how they don’t make it into at least the top 100.

And given what did make it onto the list here in BA, I can’t fathom how Aramburu, Chila, and Puratierra aren’t on it either. In Lima, why not Osaka or Amaz, both of which are among the better places I’ve ever eaten. In Santiago, Ambrosia stands out as a fantastic place to eat. Tábula in Bogotá and Marea in Cartagena stand out among amazing dining experiences in Colombia. Park Café in San Juan, Costa Rica well deserves to be on the list. And that’s just South and Central America. But of course, much of this gets back to my write-up on how this award is, awarded, and how the voting is tabulated.