Carmel >> How’s this for a girls’ night out? Dinner at Aubergine, the Relais and Chateaux restaurant whose chef, Justin Cogley, has been gathering almost as many accolades as he has chanterelles. Cogley was named Best New Chef by Food and Wine magazine and was selected as among the 100 best chefs worldwide by the French publication Le Chef. There’s no need to travel to Paris, Tokyo, Copenhagen or even Chicago: the chef (like many of his ingredients) is right here in our own backyard.
Mr. Noir and I had dined at Aubergine years ago and been distinctly underwhelmed. Only when my spouse promised to be out of town did I dare to return. Considerable anxiety attended this adventure. Our past visit had been remarkable for its miniscule portions of food. The danger of starvation loomed. Then there was the possibility of disappointment — what if Aubergine did not live up to its escalating reputation? And of course there was the cost. Perhaps I’d be thrown into debtor’s prison. But as Mr. Noir himself has been known to say, you only live once.
We women dressed in our finest blacks and grays, pulled out a few understated jewels, checked our bank balances and entered the small lobby, which opens into both the hotel L’Auberge and the restaurant Aubergine. I had taken the additional precaution of eating a heartier than usual lunch, just in case.
We were greeted warmly at the door. The single dining room, decorated in tones of gold, seemed cozier than I recalled. Banquettes line one wall, and windows facing the street are softened with sheer curtains.
The menu is a puzzle for the uninitiated. Two choices are offered: a prix-fixe four-course menu for $110, and a multi-course tasting menu for a mere $35 more. Diners are presented with a list of ingredients — on this evening it was “dry-aged ribeye, whey, abalone, beet root, preserved seaweed, chanterelle, jasmine, lamb, Dungeness crab, preserved sorrel, chocolate, yogurt” — but descriptions of the dishes themselves are declaimed by the servers as each plate is presented, quite a challenge for the memory of a restaurant reviewer.
We opted for the full monty — the tasting menu (but without the optional wine-pairing, an additional $110). The attentive sommelier enticed us with glasses of Brundlmayer Sparkling Rose ($16.50) to start, and we ordered a bottle of 2013 Crozes-Hermitage ($60) to go with our meal. The wine list, available for viewing online, is extensive, with wines from all over the globe priced from $45 to $6,495. Our relatively modest selection was poured with the same gravitas given to grander bottles.
I will confess that Chef Cogley had me at first bite. Two tiny oysters in the shell were presented like gifts, the top shell tied with a bit of string so that you lift it up to reveal the pearl inside. Caviar, Kumamoto oyster, sweet liquid — a briny, salty delight that transported me to a long forgotten state of childlike surprise and wonder. This dish goes on my last supper list.
Next up was a cauliflower puree topped with still more caviar and a sprinkling of finely chopped and toasted pumpkin seeds. The puree had a beautiful, dessert-like texture — smooth as silk — that was fantastic with the salt-like crunch of the pumpkin seeds.
To follow: duck liver, golden beets and almonds, bites of rapidly grilled abalone in a sparkling shell. And oh my god the crab and passion fruit! Another explosion of flavor and texture: sweet and briny, creamy and crunchy, including little passion fruit seeds that burst in the mouth. This was perhaps my favorite dish of the evening, and joins the oyster on my last supper list.
On to hamachi (a delicate white fish) with rounds of turnips cooked in whey and pickled dulse, a seaweed harvested by the chef right under our noses on Carmel beach. Talk about eating local!
By this time my mind was reeling, but we were not even halfway through. What should appear but a fish-shaped portion of abalone wrapped in spring onions fermented in sake lees. It was delicious beyond description and accompanied by an I-think-I’ve-gone-to-heaven cheddar brioche roll that melted in the mouth. Yet another surprise: bread that made its royal entrance in the middle of a meal. And kudos to the chef for giving the Staff of Life Market the reverence it deserves.
Service throughout had been attentive, warm and discreet. Even the most naïve question was answered readily and with respect. Pacing was perfect.
The meats were yet to come. First, a slice of lovely Spring lamb with foraged chanterelles, accompanied by spigarello, a leafy green that grows along Scenic Avenue. The lamb was tender, with just enough browned fat for flavor, the spigarello a new experience I’d love to repeat.
Next plate was a rather serious, linear arrangement of rib-eye. It was a study in geometry, with a rectangle of meat, a circle of (delicious) celery root and an oval of chopped black trumpet mushrooms. A substantial serving of country bread, rectangular and very three-dimensional, came with this dish, along with a large square of deep yellow butter on a black, shale-like plate.
Ah, a cheese intermezzo: ossau iraty (a French sheep’s milk cheese), with charred onion and tapioca — just the right transition between savory and sweet.
I was pleasantly sated by this time; my senses were close to overflowing. But it was time for pastry chef Ron Mendoza (previously of French Laundry) to take his turn. Yogurt mousse with cara cara snow and accents of tiny celery sticks continued the creamy/crunchy, sweet/savory themes that had run throughout the main courses: refreshing. Jasmine milk cake came next, and then my favorite — creamy chocolate covered in beet sauce with a side of delicate rose petal ice cream. The roses were wild, gathered on the Carmel shores, their essence extracted by the chef.
A penultimate amuse bouche of Nyangbo chocolate, walnut and smoked caramel macaroon stepped up to the plate, followed by a triumphant finale of ginger mochi and chocolate truffles arranged on a dish of river rocks. One of us even took home a gift bag of crunchy chocolate nut cookies, perhaps for those left at home.
You may be wondering what become of my trifecta of worries — starvation, disappointment, debtor’s prison. I can assure you that by the end of the evening I was replete. This is a meal to be sipped and savored like a fine wine. Roll the textures and flavors on your tongue, swallow only after a moment of contemplation, immerse yourself in a tantric food experience. While portions are indeed small, they are not miniscule, and after a grand total of 14 dishes, one does not leave hungry. (Note that I can’t speak for the four-course menu.)
I imagine you can tell I was not disappointed. Quite the contrary, I felt as though I were tasting for the first time (which, in some cases, I was). Rather than being pretentious, these dishes seemed playful, recalling a sense of childlike joy, a pure, innocent sensuality.
As for debtor’s prison, a bit of discretion in the wine department came in very handy here, and I’m writing to you with my cat on my lap, looking out an unbarred window at the trees and the birds.
That said, an evening at Aubergine is not what Mr. Noir would describe as a “normal” dinner. If you are a meat and potatoes kind of person this is probably not your place. But if you’re ready for a culinary adventure, close your eyes, open your mind and let Chef lead you by the tongue on a journey you’ll not soon forget. The only danger: You might want to go around again.
