Everyone knows how to read a menu, right? What could be simpler?
But do you know how to find the menu-within-the-menu? Do you know how to spot tendencies that might reveal a chef’s strengths? Can you identify slot-fillers?
In the first and second installments of How to Read a Menu, I took apart the menus at Preserve in Annapolis and The Riggsby in DC, showing you the various codes that chefs Jeremy Hoffman and Michael Schlow speak in and why, and helping you to make more informed decisions as a result.
This time, I’m going to deconstruct the menu of the most exciting restaurant to debut this season—no, not Momofuku CCDC, which, for those who have gorged themselves for years on pork buns and ramen at the New York original, has been a little like making do with a greatest hits compilation when you were looking forward to an album of new material. The most exciting debut belongs to Convivial, owned and helmed by Cedric Maupillier, the chef at Mintwood Place.
This is a confidently written, if sometimes confusing, menu—the document of a mature chef with a developed vision who, now that he has a place of his own, seems determined to impress you all at once with everything he knows. Fortunately, the confidence, not the confusion, is what stays with you, in dish after complexly flavored dish.
Note: Click on the highlighted menu items below to learn more about each item.
NIBBLES
In short: palate-priming dishes in a head-scratching format. Maupillier has divided his menu into “cold” and “hot,” with a preliminary section of “nibbles.” Grouping dishes into “hot” and “cold” is a bistro trope, one seen often in Paris, where casual menus are sometimes divided into chaud and froid. Chaud and froid have a certain charm, though; hot and cold speak in blunt, practical-minded English. It’s easy to understand Maupillier’s rationale: I may be doing French bistro cooking, but I’m doing it in an American city. Unfortunately, calling attention to the dishes as being either “cold” or “hot” gives this great-sounding menu the organizational design of a cafeteria menu. It also doesn’t tell the diner what sort of portion to expect. The fact that only two dishes cost more than $20 might lead you to conclude that this is yet another small plates restaurant; it’s not. Small plates tend to be slightly larger than appetizers, and these are not slightly bigger–they’re significantly bigger. But you wouldn’t call them entrees, exactly. Better to think of them as entreetizers–in other words: as dishes that are neither small nor big, neither inexpensive nor expensive. The richness of many of them means that more than two per person is probably too many, though the menu is clearly designed for you to cobble together a meal from three or maybe four. If the chef hasn’t given enough thought to how the diner is supposed to construct a meal from dishes that are not appetizers, or small plates, or entrees, this is not to say that he has not given enough thought to the dishes themselves. The care in conception is impressive, as is the vigilance in execution. In this, Maupillier is a little like the absent-minded professor who is so preoccupied with working out his many complicated theories that he doesn’t have time to attend to simpler, more practical matters. In the end, though, which would you rather have: a chef whose menu is comprehensible at a glance, but boring, and even more boring on the plate, or a chef who ignores the basics that most master and gives his all to the dishes?
sardine tartine · 9
Maupillier apprenticed for years under Michel Richard at Citronelle, and you can see the influence in a multitude of ways. For one, he has borrowed some of Richard’s menu-writing style, which eschews the lengthy lists of ingredients that some chefs favor. Richard prefers to underplay a dish description, the better to spring a surprise at the table. Note the stark simplicity of some items: sardine tartine; tartiflette fritter; brandade croquette; leeks dijonnaise. Nothing to give you a picture. Nothing that tells you you’re in for something special. This is the Richard feint. Take that leeks dijonnaise: leeks with a mustard vinaigrette. The sort of simple, no-fuss thing you think you could whip up at home on a weeknight. This is exactly what Maupillier and Richard want you to think. What the dish turns out to be is an imaginative and exuberant re-visioning of the classic combo, in much the same way the chef pumped life into the tired duo of beets and goat cheese at Mintwood with his marvelous Beet Mountain Pie. Here, the vinaigrette-slicked green onions fashioned into a round tart and garnished with fried capers, mini croutons, and chopped parsley and egg.
One of the things Maupillier is telling you, if you read his menu top to bottom, is that he’s a playful chef—he likes to invert, he likes to experiment, he likes to have fun on the plate. There are many dishes, here, that show the classical French foundation that gave Maupillier his footing, but there are even more examples that demonstrate the chef has grown confident enough to play with that tradition, to ring some clever changes. Escargot in a blanket is one—a tweaking of a concept from the menu at Mintwood, and an excellent exhibit of his cheeky Franco-American fusion. Sardine tartine, arguably the best three bites to be found on the menu, is another. It’s easy to imagine that the rhyme came to Maupillier one day in a moment of inspiration while he was in the shower, or shaving, or driving his car and that he just had to find a way to get the combination on his new menu. The dish exudes playfulness and passion.
tartiflette fritter · 7
Maupillier apprenticed for years under Michel Richard at Citronelle, and you can see the influence in a multitude of ways. For one, he has borrowed some of Richard’s menu-writing style, which eschews the lengthy lists of ingredients that some chefs favor. Richard prefers to underplay a dish description, the better to spring a surprise at the table. Note the stark simplicity of some items: sardine tartine; tartiflette fritter; brandade croquette; leeks dijonnaise. Nothing to give you a picture. Nothing that tells you you’re in for something special. This is the Richard feint. Take that leeks dijonnaise: leeks with a mustard vinaigrette. The sort of simple, no-fuss thing you think you could whip up at home on a weeknight. This is exactly what Maupillier and Richard want you to think. What the dish turns out to be is an imaginative and exuberant re-visioning of the classic combo, in much the same way the chef pumped life into the tired duo of beets and goat cheese at Mintwood with his marvelous Beet Mountain Pie. Here, the vinaigrette-slicked green onions fashioned into a round tart and garnished with fried capers, mini croutons, and chopped parsley and egg.
brandade croquette · 8
Maupillier apprenticed for years under Michel Richard at Citronelle, and you can see the influence in a multitude of ways. For one, he has borrowed some of Richard’s menu-writing style, which eschews the lengthy lists of ingredients that some chefs favor. Richard prefers to underplay a dish description, the better to spring a surprise at the table. Note the stark simplicity of some items: sardine tartine; tartiflette fritter; brandade croquette; leeks dijonnaise. Nothing to give you a picture. Nothing that tells you you’re in for something special. This is the Richard feint. Take that leeks dijonnaise: leeks with a mustard vinaigrette. The sort of simple, no-fuss thing you think you could whip up at home on a weeknight. This is exactly what Maupillier and Richard want you to think. What the dish turns out to be is an imaginative and exuberant re-visioning of the classic combo, in much the same way the chef pumped life into the tired duo of beets and goat cheese at Mintwood with his marvelous Beet Mountain Pie. Here, the vinaigrette-slicked green onions fashioned into a round tart and garnished with fried capers, mini croutons, and chopped parsley and egg.
escargots in a blanket · 11
One of the things Maupillier is telling you, if you read his menu top to bottom, is that he’s a playful chef—he likes to invert, he likes to experiment, he likes to have fun on the plate. There are many dishes, here, that show the classical French foundation that gave Maupillier his footing, but there are even more examples that demonstrate the chef has grown confident enough to play with that tradition, to ring some clever changes. Escargot in a blanket is one—a tweaking of a concept from the menu at Mintwood, and an excellent exhibit of his cheeky Franco-American fusion. Sardine tartine, arguably the best three bites to be found on the menu, is another. It’s easy to imagine that the rhyme came to Maupillier one day in a moment of inspiration while he was in the shower, or shaving, or driving his car and that he just had to find a way to get the combination on his new menu. The dish exudes playfulness and passion.
latke · celery root · dry cured lamb · 11
COLD
In short: palate-priming dishes in a head-scratching format. Maupillier has divided his menu into “cold” and “hot,” with a preliminary section of “nibbles.” Grouping dishes into “hot” and “cold” is a bistro trope, one seen often in Paris, where casual menus are sometimes divided into chaud and froid. Chaud and froid have a certain charm, though; hot and cold speak in blunt, practical-minded English. It’s easy to understand Maupillier’s rationale: I may be doing French bistro cooking, but I’m doing it in an American city. Unfortunately, calling attention to the dishes as being either “cold” or “hot” gives this great-sounding menu the organizational design of a cafeteria menu. It also doesn’t tell the diner what sort of portion to expect. The fact that only two dishes cost more than $20 might lead you to conclude that this is yet another small plates restaurant; it’s not. Small plates tend to be slightly larger than appetizers, and these are not slightly bigger–they’re significantly bigger. But you wouldn’t call them entrees, exactly. Better to think of them as entreetizers–in other words: as dishes that are neither small nor big, neither inexpensive nor expensive. The richness of many of them means that more than two per person is probably too many, though the menu is clearly designed for you to cobble together a meal from three or maybe four. If the chef hasn’t given enough thought to how the diner is supposed to construct a meal from dishes that are not appetizers, or small plates, or entrees, this is not to say that he has not given enough thought to the dishes themselves. The care in conception is impressive, as is the vigilance in execution. In this, Maupillier is a little like the absent-minded professor who is so preoccupied with working out his many complicated theories that he doesn’t have time to attend to simpler, more practical matters. In the end, though, which would you rather have: a chef whose menu is comprehensible at a glance, but boring, and even more boring on the plate, or a chef who ignores the basics that most master and gives his all to the dishes?
leeks dijonnaise · 13
Maupillier apprenticed for years under Michel Richard at Citronelle, and you can see the influence in a multitude of ways. For one, he has borrowed some of Richard’s menu-writing style, which eschews the lengthy lists of ingredients that some chefs favor. Richard prefers to underplay a dish description, the better to spring a surprise at the table. Note the stark simplicity of some items: sardine tartine; tartiflette fritter; brandade croquette; leeks dijonnaise. Nothing to give you a picture. Nothing that tells you you’re in for something special. This is the Richard feint. Take that leeks dijonnaise: leeks with a mustard vinaigrette. The sort of simple, no-fuss thing you think you could whip up at home on a weeknight. This is exactly what Maupillier and Richard want you to think. What the dish turns out to be is an imaginative and exuberant re-visioning of the classic combo, in much the same way the chef pumped life into the tired duo of beets and goat cheese at Mintwood with his marvelous Beet Mountain Pie. Here, the vinaigrette-slicked green onions fashioned into a round tart and garnished with fried capers, mini croutons, and chopped parsley and egg.
cauliflower blanc-manger · tabbouleh · almond · pomelo · herb salad · 14
Every classically trained French chef is raised to believe that meat is king. Meat dishes are enhanced by sauces that have been coaxed from the juices of those meats, and every component of the plate— starch, vegetable—is chosen precisely for its ability to mesh with and not upstage the star. But to Maupillier’s credit, this is a menu that more than glances in the direction of the non-meat eater. The first three dishes in Cold and the first three dishes in Hot are all meatless. The chef has made a concerted effort to extend himself. He is saying, in effect: my heart is in the tender braise, the strong, meaty taste of the off-cut, but I am a contemporary cook, and that means finding creative, satisfying dishes for vegetarians.
socca · beets · citrus · shaved fennel · picholine · 14
Every classically trained French chef is raised to believe that meat is king. Meat dishes are enhanced by sauces that have been coaxed from the juices of those meats, and every component of the plate— starch, vegetable—is chosen precisely for its ability to mesh with and not upstage the star. But to Maupillier’s credit, this is a menu that more than glances in the direction of the non-meat eater. The first three dishes in Cold and the first three dishes in Hot are all meatless. The chef has made a concerted effort to extend himself. He is saying, in effect: my heart is in the tender braise, the strong, meaty taste of the off-cut, but I am a contemporary cook, and that means finding creative, satisfying dishes for vegetarians.
·
pickled rockfish · green papaya · avocado · passionfruit · winter radish · 16
cured arctic char · tarama · apple & elderberry dye · 15
Unexpected combinations can be found throughout the menu. Arctic char and elderberry dye, for instance. Or scallop boudin blanc and sauerkraut. You may find yourself thinking: I can’t quite picture how they’d go. This is the exact thought Maupillier wants you to have, especially if you’re an open-minded diner. This is the chef saying: trust me on this; take a trip with me. Both dishes are intricately conceived, carefully developed, and fully realized, and among the half-dozen best things on the menu. (What you can’t know from reading the menu is the extent to which most of these plates seem to have been conceived with wine in mind; that’s not to say that you need to drink wine to enjoy them—they’re enjoyable on their own; it is to say that as good as many of them are, they make magic with a glass of wine—in this case, an elegant white Burgundy or lightly sweet Alsatian Riesling.)
·
veal tartare · poutargue · cancoillotte · oyster leaf · niçoise olive cracker · 18
The menu revels, at times, in the obscure—at least for the non-French speaking diner, it does. Take a closer look at the veal tartare, which lists “poutargue” and “cancoillotte.” Poutargue is the Italian word for bottarga, or dried mullet roe, which Mediterranean-minded chefs sometimes shave atop dishes to give them a distinctive, salty pop. Few diners have any idea what bottarga is, and even they are likely to be stumped when they encounter the word “poutargue.” Cancoillotte is a runny, cow’s milk cheese made from Metton—a cheese seldom seen in the US. The chef is saying, in effect: “This is a connoiseur’s dish. I don’t want to or have to explain it.” Some may find that arrogant. Some may find that simply French. What is important to take away is not whether you like or dislike the chef for wording his dishes this way. What is important to take away is that he has a strong sense of the tradition he has inherited, and you can be clear that this tradition will be honored in his cooking.
turkey leg confit · endives · pecan · ranch · 14
HOT
In short: palate-priming dishes in a head-scratching format. Maupillier has divided his menu into “cold” and “hot,” with a preliminary section of “nibbles.” Grouping dishes into “hot” and “cold” is a bistro trope, one seen often in Paris, where casual menus are sometimes divided into chaud and froid. Chaud and froid have a certain charm, though; hot and cold speak in blunt, practical-minded English. It’s easy to understand Maupillier’s rationale: I may be doing French bistro cooking, but I’m doing it in an American city. Unfortunately, calling attention to the dishes as being either “cold” or “hot” gives this great-sounding menu the organizational design of a cafeteria menu. It also doesn’t tell the diner what sort of portion to expect. The fact that only two dishes cost more than $20 might lead you to conclude that this is yet another small plates restaurant; it’s not. Small plates tend to be slightly larger than appetizers, and these are not slightly bigger–they’re significantly bigger. But you wouldn’t call them entrees, exactly. Better to think of them as entreetizers–in other words: as dishes that are neither small nor big, neither inexpensive nor expensive. The richness of many of them means that more than two per person is probably too many, though the menu is clearly designed for you to cobble together a meal from three or maybe four. If the chef hasn’t given enough thought to how the diner is supposed to construct a meal from dishes that are not appetizers, or small plates, or entrees, this is not to say that he has not given enough thought to the dishes themselves. The care in conception is impressive, as is the vigilance in execution. In this, Maupillier is a little like the absent-minded professor who is so preoccupied with working out his many complicated theories that he doesn’t have time to attend to simpler, more practical matters. In the end, though, which would you rather have: a chef whose menu is comprehensible at a glance, but boring, and even more boring on the plate, or a chef who ignores the basics that most master and gives his all to the dishes?
barley pilaf · sunchoke · lemon · cashew · goat cheese curd · 14
Every classically trained French chef is raised to believe that meat is king. Meat dishes are enhanced by sauces that have been coaxed from the juices of those meats, and every component of the plate— starch, vegetable—is chosen precisely for its ability to mesh with and not upstage the star. But to Maupillier’s credit, this is a menu that more than glances in the direction of the non-meat eater. The first three dishes in Cold and the first three dishes in Hot are all meatless. The chef has made a concerted effort to extend himself. He is saying, in effect: my heart is in the tender braise, the strong, meaty taste of the off-cut, but I am a contemporary cook, and that means finding creative, satisfying dishes for vegetarians.
roast baby vegetable · pomegranate · quinoa · mimolette · 15
Every classically trained French chef is raised to believe that meat is king. Meat dishes are enhanced by sauces that have been coaxed from the juices of those meats, and every component of the plate— starch, vegetable—is chosen precisely for its ability to mesh with and not upstage the star. But to Maupillier’s credit, this is a menu that more than glances in the direction of the non-meat eater. The first three dishes in Cold and the first three dishes in Hot are all meatless. The chef has made a concerted effort to extend himself. He is saying, in effect: my heart is in the tender braise, the strong, meaty taste of the off-cut, but I am a contemporary cook, and that means finding creative, satisfying dishes for vegetarians.
squash vadouvan · olive cake · pistachio · mustard greens · coconut · 16
Every classically trained French chef is raised to believe that meat is king. Meat dishes are enhanced by sauces that have been coaxed from the juices of those meats, and every component of the plate— starch, vegetable—is chosen precisely for its ability to mesh with and not upstage the star. But to Maupillier’s credit, this is a menu that more than glances in the direction of the non-meat eater. The first three dishes in Cold and the first three dishes in Hot are all meatless. The chef has made a concerted effort to extend himself. He is saying, in effect: my heart is in the tender braise, the strong, meaty taste of the off-cut, but I am a contemporary cook, and that means finding creative, satisfying dishes for vegetarians.
·
scallop boudin blanc · snow pea · sauerkraut · sea bean · trout caviar · 18
You can strike gold with a dish like the pickled rockfish, but the richest rewards are going to be found, not surprisingly, in those dishes with the deepest roots in the chef’s tradition: boudin blanc; coq au vin; leeks dijonnaise. Many high-end menus have a menu-within-the-menu, and this is Maupillier’s. Let’s take a closer look at the boudin noire raviole. Aside from the pillows of pasta, which are really just the delivery system here (a good delivery system, but a delivery system nonetheless), every ingredient on the plate is quintessentially, and proudly, Gallic: boudin noire; chestnuts, mushroom fricassee. The flavors are rich and intense; every bite is a powerhouse. This lusty rusticity is the very thing that caused so many generations of Americans to fall in love with French bistro cooking—the very thing, sad to say, that many French now fear may be vanishing from their changing culinary landscape.
Unexpected combinations can be found throughout the menu. Arctic char and elderberry dye, for instance. Or scallop boudin blanc and sauerkraut. You may find yourself thinking: I can’t quite picture how they’d go. This is the exact thought Maupillier wants you to have, especially if you’re an open-minded diner. This is the chef saying: trust me on this; take a trip with me. Both dishes are intricately conceived, carefully developed, and fully realized, and among the half-dozen best things on the menu. (What you can’t know from reading the menu is the extent to which most of these plates seem to have been conceived with wine in mind; that’s not to say that you need to drink wine to enjoy them—they’re enjoyable on their own; it is to say that as good as many of them are, they make magic with a glass of wine—in this case, an elegant white Burgundy or lightly sweet Alsatian Riesling.)
Chesapeake blue catfish bouillabaisse · 19
grilled white perch · octopus & crab bisque · 21
·
lamb tongue moussaka · 17
Notice something? No steak. Nor, for that matter, a simple, straightforward meat dish for the diner who doesn’t want to have to think about his food. Most restaurant menus have at least a couple of slot-fillers—dishes that exists purely to satisfy a particular constituency (the stubbornly unadventurous eater, the vegetarian). If, for instance, you see only a single vegetable-based dish on a menu, you can be reasonably sure that the chef isn’t interested in vegetables—that the dish is there only to appease a diner he really doesn’t care much about. The fact that Maupillier does not have even a single slot-filler on a menu of this size (the bacon cheeseburger comes closest; it’s meant to give folks in the neighborhood a dish they can return to again and again—a simple meal to nosh at the bar) tells you a lot. It tells you that there’s nothing, here, that he doesn’t really stand behind. It tells you that although you might turn up a dish you don’t like, for whatever reason, you’re unlikely to turn up one that isn’t the product of real thought and conviction. What you should also notice is Maupillier’s obvious love for the off-cut. Lamb tongue, for instance, the headliner in a version of moussaka that the chef conceived originally for the menu at Mintwood. Calf’s liver. A pot au feu that features tendon, tongue, and bone marrow. The chef is saying, in effect: I love this stuff, and I want you to love it, too. Take his hint to, ahem, heart. Where there’s passion, there’s a greater-than-average chance of your turning up something delicious.
grilled quail · green Puy lentils · 16
boudin noire raviole · chestnut · mushroom fricassee · 18
You can strike gold with a dish like the pickled rockfish, but the richest rewards are going to be found, not surprisingly, in those dishes with the deepest roots in the chef’s tradition: boudin blanc; coq au vin; leeks dijonnaise. Many high-end menus have a menu-within-the-menu, and this is Maupillier’s. Let’s take a closer look at the boudin noire raviole. Aside from the pillows of pasta, which are really just the delivery system here (a good delivery system, but a delivery system nonetheless), every ingredient on the plate is quintessentially, and proudly, Gallic: boudin noire; chestnuts, mushroom fricassee. The flavors are rich and intense; every bite is a powerhouse. This lusty rusticity is the very thing that caused so many generations of Americans to fall in love with French bistro cooking—the very thing, sad to say, that many French now fear may be vanishing from their changing culinary landscape.
bacon cheeseburger · 17
fried chicken “coq au vin” · 17
Quotation marks have mostly gone out of fashion in menu writing. Some chefs still use them from time to time, to tip you to a dish that departs from tradition or expectation. So it is with the fried chicken “coq au vin,” another example of Maupillier’s Franco-American fusion, and maybe the best. The skin of the chicken is supremely crunchy—Richard, Maupillier’s mentor, earned the moniker Captain Crunch for his love of crisp, shattering textures—while the meat (especially for breast meat) is supremely tender. no doubt from having been cooked more than once, and slowly and/or at a very low temperature that first time. In a traditional coq au vin, the chicken is browned and left to simmer for hours in a sauce of red wine, onions and bacon. Here, that sauce takes the form of a glaze, which, like a Korean-style fried chicken drenched with garlicky soy mixed with honey, infuses the skin (carapace, really) with big, stew-y flavor while never, somehow, turning the thing soggy.
One of the things Maupillier is telling you, if you read his menu top to bottom, is that he’s a playful chef—he likes to invert, he likes to experiment, he likes to have fun on the plate. There are many dishes, here, that show the classical French foundation that gave Maupillier his footing, but there are even more examples that demonstrate the chef has grown confident enough to play with that tradition, to ring some clever changes. Escargot in a blanket is one—a tweaking of a concept from the menu at Mintwood, and an excellent exhibit of his cheeky Franco-American fusion. Sardine tartine, arguably the best three bites to be found on the menu, is another. It’s easy to imagine that the rhyme came to Maupillier one day in a moment of inspiration while he was in the shower, or shaving, or driving his car and that he just had to find a way to get the combination on his new menu. The dish exudes playfulness and passion.
You can strike gold with a dish like the pickled rockfish, but the richest rewards are going to be found, not surprisingly, in those dishes with the deepest roots in the chef’s tradition: boudin blanc; coq au vin; leeks dijonnaise. Many high-end menus have a menu-within-the-menu, and this is Maupillier’s. Let’s take a closer look at the boudin noire raviole. Aside from the pillows of pasta, which are really just the delivery system here (a good delivery system, but a delivery system nonetheless), every ingredient on the plate is quintessentially, and proudly, Gallic: boudin noire; chestnuts, mushroom fricassee. The flavors are rich and intense; every bite is a powerhouse. This lusty rusticity is the very thing that caused so many generations of Americans to fall in love with French bistro cooking—the very thing, sad to say, that many French now fear may be vanishing from their changing culinary landscape.
petit cassoulet · 19
veal blanquette · forbidden rice · 19
calf’s liver · winter vegetable · shallot · Surryano ham · 19
Notice something? No steak. Nor, for that matter, a simple, straightforward meat dish for the diner who doesn’t want to have to think about his food. Most restaurant menus have at least a couple of slot-fillers—dishes that exists purely to satisfy a particular constituency (the stubbornly unadventurous eater, the vegetarian). If, for instance, you see only a single vegetable-based dish on a menu, you can be reasonably sure that the chef isn’t interested in vegetables—that the dish is there only to appease a diner he really doesn’t care much about. The fact that Maupillier does not have even a single slot-filler on a menu of this size (the bacon cheeseburger comes closest; it’s meant to give folks in the neighborhood a dish they can return to again and again—a simple meal to nosh at the bar) tells you a lot. It tells you that there’s nothing, here, that he doesn’t really stand behind. It tells you that although you might turn up a dish you don’t like, for whatever reason, you’re unlikely to turn up one that isn’t the product of real thought and conviction. What you should also notice is Maupillier’s obvious love for the off-cut. Lamb tongue, for instance, the headliner in a version of moussaka that the chef conceived originally for the menu at Mintwood. Calf’s liver. A pot au feu that features tendon, tongue, and bone marrow. The chef is saying, in effect: I love this stuff, and I want you to love it, too. Take his hint to, ahem, heart. Where there’s passion, there’s a greater-than-average chance of your turning up something delicious.
beef pot au feu · cheek · tendon · tongue · bone marrow · gribiche · 21
Notice something? No steak. Nor, for that matter, a simple, straightforward meat dish for the diner who doesn’t want to have to think about his food. Most restaurant menus have at least a couple of slot-fillers—dishes that exists purely to satisfy a particular constituency (the stubbornly unadventurous eater, the vegetarian). If, for instance, you see only a single vegetable-based dish on a menu, you can be reasonably sure that the chef isn’t interested in vegetables—that the dish is there only to appease a diner he really doesn’t care much about. The fact that Maupillier does not have even a single slot-filler on a menu of this size (the bacon cheeseburger comes closest; it’s meant to give folks in the neighborhood a dish they can return to again and again—a simple meal to nosh at the bar) tells you a lot. It tells you that there’s nothing, here, that he doesn’t really stand behind. It tells you that although you might turn up a dish you don’t like, for whatever reason, you’re unlikely to turn up one that isn’t the product of real thought and conviction. What you should also notice is Maupillier’s obvious love for the off-cut. Lamb tongue, for instance, the headliner in a version of moussaka that the chef conceived originally for the menu at Mintwood. Calf’s liver. A pot au feu that features tendon, tongue, and bone marrow. The chef is saying, in effect: I love this stuff, and I want you to love it, too. Take his hint to, ahem, heart. Where there’s passion, there’s a greater-than-average chance of your turning up something delicious.
CHEESE
rotating selection, 3 for 15, 5 for 23
DESSERT
apple pie · walnuts · vanilla bean ice cream · 9
milk chocolate crème brulee · black meringue · 9
hot sticky toffee pudding · maple ice cream · 9
key lime & speculoos pie · 9
“s’mores” · 9
passion fruit cheesecake · 9
celebration cake · chocolate & hazelnut dacquoise · 14
