Homard macédoine at New York City’s reimagine Le Veau d’Or, a dish that could hardly exist outside of this specific place and format.Michael Russell | The Oregonian
Note: A version of this review appeared in Michael Russell’s newsletter, The Best Thing I Ate This Week. Sign up here.
One thing I learned while reviewing Gregory Gourdet’s new Manhattan bistro this spring is that, for diners in New York, a two-tiered system exists at impossible-to-get-into restaurants.
For most of us, snagging a table at Carbone, Semma, or Tatiana means setting an alarm for the second reservations are released, showing up when the doors open (hat in hand), or even paying an annoying premium to a third-party booking site. But for VIPs, tables can emerge on surprisingly short notice. Larger restaurant groups go so far as to employ Tetris-adept teams for squeezing celebrities, investors and other bigshots into jewel box restaurants at the last minute.
We were back on the East Coast earlier this month, mostly to visit family and hike and swim in the lakes of southern Vermont. But I did make it into New York City for one memorable date night (thanks to my in-laws for watching the kids!).
That day, I was kicking myself for not securing a reservation at Le Veau d’Or, the oldest French bistro in New York, a time capsule of a restaurant recently given a loving polish by the team behind hyped-up neo-bistros Frenchette and Le Rock. Between the history and the promise of delicious food, this was probably the restaurant I most wanted to visit in America, but tables had vanished the moment they were released two weeks before.
We decided to give it a shot anyway, walking across Central Park after an afternoon that included a visit to the newly reopened Frick Collection and a movie at Lincoln Center. And we were in luck — walking down the short staircase to the nearly 90-year-old restaurant, where famous patrons have included Grace Kelly, Orson Welles, Truman Capote, Marlene Dietrich, Ernest Hemingway and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, we were greeted warmly and offered our choice of a cozy dining room table or a perch at the five-seat bar. The bar’s Maraschino-red leather stools called our names.
The martini “Our Way” at Le Veau d’Or, which belongs in New York’s martini pantheon, comes with a sidecar of vermouth and salty Spanish mineral water.Michael Russell | The Oregonian
Part of Le Veau D’or’s charm is its anachronistic menu, from the cherubic illustrations around the edges to the dish names printed in alternating red and black — “the colors don’t mean anything,” our bartender explained — to (most importantly) the gloriously old fashioned food itself. In an episode of “No Reservations” titled “Disappearing Manhattan,” Anthony Bourdain called the restaurant “a time warp back to France of the ‘30s and ‘40s,” with pâté en croûte, tripes à la mode and other “dishes that were old even when I was a kid.” And that was 16 years ago.
At the bar, a la carte is an option, but we splurged on the prix fixe, a $125 menu with a choice of appetizer, main and dessert, plus a simple intermezzo salad shared by the table.
Where to begin? Like an NBA team considering a consolidation trade, the starters ran 16 deep, from classic escargots to a petite omelette to puffs of pommes soufflées with caviar rouge (does anyone know the French for “FOMO?”).
We settled on a half dozen little neck clams that came — surprise! — with a plate of dainty chipolata sausages resting in spiced oil, like the punchline to a joke we were too young to understand; and the mouclade vadouvan, steamed mussels in a cream sauce perfumed with curry spice — the best mussels I’ve ever had.
Mains are a bit more … mainstream, at least on their face. There’s a hanger steak frites, par exemple. But even here, idiosyncrasies abound. Along with the sweet cherries, slices of stick-skinned duck magret were dusted with more pepper than a Texas brisket. The homard macédoine, a dish that could hardly exist outside of the specific context of this place and format, is served with the tender meat carefully removed from a shell that’s then filled with a diced vegetable salad. What?
Homard macèdoine, a lobster with the meat removed from a shell that’s then stuffed with a diced vegetable salad, deconstructed at Le Veau d’Or’s tufted red leather bar.Michael Russell | The Oregonian
The quirks extend to the drinks, including the nearly famous martini “Our Way,” its overproof mix of dry gin and sherry vermouth served with a sidecar of that same vermouth spritzed with surprisingly — but not unpleasantly — salty Spanish mineral water. Between courses, you can order a trou Normand, a palate cleanser of chilled Armagnac and squeezed-to-order green apple juice designed to drill a hole in your appetite, each neon green shot nestled in a glass bucket of pebble ice.
The trou Normand, or “Norman hole,” a digestif made from blanche Armagnac and fresh-squeezed green apple juice, is designed to help make room for dessert.Michael Russell | The Oregonian
For dessert, we were intrigued by the chilled melon soup, and who can resist an Île Flottante, the famous “floating island” of soft meringue pricked with toasted almond slices in a pool of crème Anglaise — a personal favorite, and one you almost never see. Who knew these stodgy old French classics could be so adventurous, so fun?
Île Flottante, a floating island of meringue in a pool of custard cream, and a dessert you rarely see on restaurant menus these days.Michael Russell | The Oregonian
What does all this have to do with Portland? Well, between Higgins’ recent cry for help and the death of Huber’s owner James Louie, some of the Rose City’s defining restaurants find themselves at a crossroads. To me, Le Veau d’Or’s much heralded revival shows how an infusion of energy can turn a sleepy restaurant into a thrill once more, even when the menu and decor remain exactly as they were. Could something similar happen at one of Portland’s oldest restaurants? (Dan & Louis Oyster Bar, we’re looking at you.)
Near closing time at Le Veau d’Or, Nasr, the chef and co-owner, grabbed a seat at the end of the bar, asked for a bottle of German pilsner and began reading off a list of names — VIPs, presumably — as well as party sizes and time slots for an employee to enter into the restaurant’s reservation system. Democratic? Perhaps not. Most restaurants this old can only dream of such problems.
Details: Le Veau d’Or serves lunch Tuesday to Friday and dinner Tuesday to Saturday at 129 E. 60th St., New York City, New York; lvdnyc.com. Note: There’s a bright red telephone plugged in behind the bar, ostensibly for VIPs to circumvent the online reservation system, though in practice it’s merely another piece of historic decor (I called from the bar; the phone rang quietly, but no one answered)
Recommended: Frogs legs en persillade (when available), mouclade vadouvan, little neck clams with chipolatas, duck magret aux cerises, homarde macédoine, the Île Flottante.
Vegetarian options … are more abundant among the starters, including a salad, a small omelet, artichokes a la Greque, a potage a légumes and the très classique oeuf en gelée, a hard-boiled egg trapped in aspic. On our visit, vegetarian mains were limited to the vegetable-stuffed cabbage rolls.
Accessibility: The restaurant is located down a small flight of stairs with no ramp, though staff can assist with wheelchairs. The two closet-sized restrooms tucked behind the bar are not accessible.
Public transportation: Many buses and subway lines, including the MTA’s 4, 5, 6, N, R and W trains, stop within a block of Le Veau d’Or. (Though first you’ll have to get to New York.)
— Michael Russell; mrussell@oregonian.com
If you purchase a product or register for an account through a link on our site, we may receive compensation. By using this site, you consent to our User Agreement and agree that your clicks, interactions, and personal information may be collected, recorded, and/or stored by us and social media and other third-party partners in accordance with our Privacy Policy.