M Bistro

Restaurant Review

Anecdotes & Analysis

Even if you never dined in a Ritz-Carlton, you probably know that its food is stunning, unusual, excellent, extremely well served, and expensive. And you're right. But you'll need further adjustment to your expectations to slide easily into the program at Victor's, the gourmet room at the newly-opened New Orleans Ritz. They haven't just raised the bar, they've written a new code. Victor's is buried deep in the center of the former Maison Blanche Building--about where the bedding department used to be in the old store, if I remember right. It's just off the main lobby which, with all the restaurants and most other services, is on the third floor. Two glass walls look out into the large lounge area and ultimately into the courtyard. Tables are big and spread well apart; a couple of special tables are ensconced in small satellite rooms from which you can see without being seen. The restaurant bears the name of a much-respected late-1800s dining establishment. The first location of Victor's was torn down to make room for the Maison Blanche Building in the early 1900s. (Victor's then moved around the corner on Bourbon Street, where it evolved into Galatoire's.) There is no other connection here with that era of New Orleans dining. Or any other era, for that matter. The Ritz-Carlton Victor's comes at you in a way that's almost radical. Think about it as offering nothing but chef's tasting menus at dinner. That's not exactly true, but it's not far off. The basic menu is $65. You allegedly get a first course, an entree, and a dessert. But there's more. They're a little too quick to tell you about it--like the neighborhood waitress who lets you know you get a salad and the vegetable of the day with your entree--but never mind. Four other courses are included in the deal, and suddenly the dinner becomes one of those all-night events. And this $65 dinner is the low option. For $75, another couple of courses is added. And for $115, there's something called the chef's proprietary dinner, in which the chef tailor-makes a ten-course feast to match your tastes. Nudge it up to the full $150, and you get a different wine with each course. Well. Clearly this is something different--more akin to a special wine dinner than a la carte service. And how are you going to eat all that food? I'll tell you how. The courses are small. Count the forkfuls on the fingers of one hand. Nothing stands out as a main course. They even have special plates. The most unusual looks like a flattened funnel, with a small pocket at the bottom where the single scallop and the three beet sticks reside. But if you know all of what I just told you going in, you'll have quite the memorable evening at Victor's. I did a couple of weeks ago--twice, in fact. The first time around it was our anniversary, so we shot the works. We reserved the little semi-private room (it's big enough for about six people at least, so this was absurdly luxurious). The dishes we had will probably not be available when you go--they change the menu every day--but I think what we had captures Victor's style. We started with the best taste of the night: a thick puree of lentils and cream with a mild curry flavor, with slivers of duck ham (cured duck breast) and a few drops of basil oil floating on top. It came out in the kind of cup used for espresso. Then thin crisp wafers with crabmeat between each, and a slice or two of truffle on top. Ho-hum, and hard to eat. The seared scallop was first-class: big, meaty, taste of the sea, all I wanted. The beets and the horseradish were interesting foils. Now comes a couple of grilled shrimp with a sauce made from blood oranges and (get this) olive oil ice cream. The olive-oil flavor, if I wasn't completely imagining it, was very subtle indeed. Shrimp with ice cream? Not bad, actually. Name of the night: fricassee of frog. Little morsels in a stew with trumpet mushrooms and oversized green gnocchi of parsley mousse. I loved it; for my wife, it became emblematic of a problem this place has (about which more later). Then turbot (a big European flounder), grilled simply, served with simple garnishes. And the breast of my favorite bird, squab, done rare and looking like beef as usual. Very tasty. Then a cheese cart--just like the ones in the grand restaurants in France--arrives. Its glass-covered board is full with at least a dozen different varieties from all over the world. Fresh to aged, cow's milk to sheep's, mild to stinky. All ripe, served properly at room temperature. Pick all you want--it's part of the dinner deal. That's a great idea, because even restaurants making the effort to assemble a good cheese course usually watch it rot because nobody ordered it. This way, it moves and stays fresh. You get a pre-dessert. This night it was a chocolate rice pudding with pecan brittle ice cream. Which was better than the main dessert, another in a long series of attempts to create a dessert based on coffee and chicory au lait. The wines they served with this were astonishing. They ran the gamut from Alsace Pinot Gris to both a red and a white from Austria (that's the hot pour for a with-it sommelier to do these days), with Tokaji Eszencia with dessert. Service throughout the night left nothing to be desired. Now, my wife's legitimate cavil. She's not a bold eater, and although she enjoyed the room and the service and the whole event, the food was "way too gourmet for me." Why would someone like her come to a place like this in the first place? As the date of someone who loves this kind of food. But what is she supposed to eat if she can't do fricassee of frog? There is no apparent option for people like my wife. Where's the filet, or the broiled fish? Well, actually, it's available for the asking, but it's not on the menu. Which scares some folks. This is something Victor's needs to be more sensitive to. And even though you really do get enough to eat (certainly if you order the bigger dinners), the teeny-portion thing will not fly well with many New Orleans diners. All that said, this is a great advancement in the possibilities for adventuresome dining, and I look forward to many fascinating evenings at Victor's.

Backstory

Even if you never dined in a Ritz-Carlton, you probably know that its food is stunning, unusual, excellent, extremely well served, and expensive. And you're right. But you'll need further adjustment to your expectations to slide easily into the program at Victor's, the gourmet room at the newly-opened New Orleans Ritz. They haven't just raised the bar, they've written a new code. Victor's is buried deep in the center of the former Maison Blanche Building--about where the bedding department used to be in the old store, if I remember right. It's just off the main lobby which, with all the restaurants and most other services, is on the third floor. Two glass walls look out into the large lounge area and ultimately into the courtyard. Tables are big and spread well apart; a couple of special tables are ensconced in small satellite rooms from which you can see without being seen. The restaurant bears the name of a much-respected late-1800s dining establishment. The first location of Victor's was torn down to make room for the Maison Blanche Building in the early 1900s. (Victor's then moved around the corner on Bourbon Street, where it evolved into Galatoire's.) There is no other connection here with that era of New Orleans dining. Or any other era, for that matter. The Ritz-Carlton Victor's comes at you in a way that's almost radical. Think about it as offering nothing but chef's tasting menus at dinner. That's not exactly true, but it's not far off. The basic menu is $65. You allegedly get a first course, an entree, and a dessert. But there's more. They're a little too quick to tell you about it--like the neighborhood waitress who lets you know you get a salad and the vegetable of the day with your entree--but never mind. Four other courses are included in the deal, and suddenly the dinner becomes one of those all-night events. And this $65 dinner is the low option. For $75, another couple of courses is added. And for $115, there's something called the chef's proprietary dinner, in which the chef tailor-makes a ten-course feast to match your tastes. Nudge it up to the full $150, and you get a different wine with each course. Well. Clearly this is something different--more akin to a special wine dinner than a la carte service. And how are you going to eat all that food? I'll tell you how. The courses are small. Count the forkfuls on the fingers of one hand. Nothing stands out as a main course. They even have special plates. The most unusual looks like a flattened funnel, with a small pocket at the bottom where the single scallop and the three beet sticks reside. But if you know all of what I just told you going in, you'll have quite the memorable evening at Victor's. I did a couple of weeks ago--twice, in fact. The first time around it was our anniversary, so we shot the works. We reserved the little semi-private room (it's big enough for about six people at least, so this was absurdly luxurious). The dishes we had will probably not be available when you go--they change the menu every day--but I think what we had captures Victor's style. We started with the best taste of the night: a thick puree of lentils and cream with a mild curry flavor, with slivers of duck ham (cured duck breast) and a few drops of basil oil floating on top. It came out in the kind of cup used for espresso. Then thin crisp wafers with crabmeat between each, and a slice or two of truffle on top. Ho-hum, and hard to eat. The seared scallop was first-class: big, meaty, taste of the sea, all I wanted. The beets and the horseradish were interesting foils. Now comes a couple of grilled shrimp with a sauce made from blood oranges and (get this) olive oil ice cream. The olive-oil flavor, if I wasn't completely imagining it, was very subtle indeed. Shrimp with ice cream? Not bad, actually. Name of the night: fricassee of frog. Little morsels in a stew with trumpet mushrooms and oversized green gnocchi of parsley mousse. I loved it; for my wife, it became emblematic of a problem this place has (about which more later). Then turbot (a big European flounder), grilled simply, served with simple garnishes. And the breast of my favorite bird, squab, done rare and looking like beef as usual. Very tasty. Then a cheese cart--just like the ones in the grand restaurants in France--arrives. Its glass-covered board is full with at least a dozen different varieties from all over the world. Fresh to aged, cow's milk to sheep's, mild to stinky. All ripe, served properly at room temperature. Pick all you want--it's part of the dinner deal. That's a great idea, because even restaurants making the effort to assemble a good cheese course usually watch it rot because nobody ordered it. This way, it moves and stays fresh. You get a pre-dessert. This night it was a chocolate rice pudding with pecan brittle ice cream. Which was better than the main dessert, another in a long series of attempts to create a dessert based on coffee and chicory au lait. The wines they served with this were astonishing. They ran the gamut from Alsace Pinot Gris to both a red and a white from Austria (that's the hot pour for a with-it sommelier to do these days), with Tokaji Eszencia with dessert. Service throughout the night left nothing to be desired. Now, my wife's legitimate cavil. She's not a bold eater, and although she enjoyed the room and the service and the whole event, the food was "way too gourmet for me." Why would someone like her come to a place like this in the first place? As the date of someone who loves this kind of food. But what is she supposed to eat if she can't do fricassee of frog? There is no apparent option for people like my wife. Where's the filet, or the broiled fish? Well, actually, it's available for the asking, but it's not on the menu. Which scares some folks. This is something Victor's needs to be more sensitive to. And even though you really do get enough to eat (certainly if you order the bigger dinners), the teeny-portion thing will not fly well with many New Orleans diners. All that said, this is a great advancement in the possibilities for adventuresome dining, and I look forward to many fascinating evenings at Victor's.