Daniel, What the hell!?!?

When I asked my son Grant at which restaurant he’d like to celebrate his graduation dinner, he said without hesitation, "Daniel," which, coincidentally, was his dad’s favorite place. Steven would say, “Daniel's food IS Paris!” Grant has never dined at Daniel's, but he has eaten his food via his mama’s leftovers. Those most coveted were the mashed potatoes with truffles. I would always order a double portion so I’d have enough to bring home to my monkeys (a.k.a. my two boys).

The first time I had Daniel’s scrumptious creation, I ordered them again that same night for dessert. My fellow diners mocked me while they sipped their espressos. That is, they mocked me until the tots arrived at the table. That’s when the mocking switched to ogling my tiny copper pot filled with the best spuds money could buy.

Last night's experience at Daniel's was a far cry from what it used to be. Not even remotely close. Visually, the dishes were signature "Daniel,” but only visually, since almost everything tasted bland. They might as well have served a photograph of the food, as I'm sure a glossy 8x10 would have tasted the same, or maybe even slightly better. What was puzzling was how good the amuse-bouche was. That "gift from the chef," which usually sets the tone for the dining experience to come, was truly misleading! (Definition of amuse-bouche: mouth amuser OR to please – too bad the rest of the meal didn’t measure up.)

The staff was charming, but service was slow and we had to ask for bread. The portions were small, which in a way was a blessing – after all, who wants to eat a lot of boring food? My sixteen year old son asked if we could go for a burger afterwards, since he was still hungry. I myself was thinking more along the lines of pizza. As we were considering our after-dinner dinner, our good friend Murph raised a valid point in defense of French cooking by explaining the philosophy behind it. He said that the French believe that small portions allow one to enjoy the dish, and that even for a succulent, 24 oz. steak, three or four bites suffice. I basically agree with him, except when it comes to certain pasta dishes and mashed potatoes with truffles, which, by the way, was not on the menu. But I digress. Back to Daniel and our disappointing, expensive experience. (For the record, it is not that I mind paying high prices when dining out. To me, a great meal is also a great moment that lives on long after the digestif is served and is well worth every penny. I only mind paying high prices for flavorless food!)

So we were looking at $108.00 per person, and that's before we ordered the wine. Speaking of wine, I did manage to find a few wines on the list that I could order without taking a second mortgage on my home. (They're pictured below, and if you're so inclined, you can check out Daniel's wine list online).

The star of the show was a 1992 Eiswein. 1992 was/is a great vintage for Eiswein, pronounced “ice vine.” History says that Eiswein happened by mistake in 1794 in Franconia, Germany (click here). The grapes (vidal) were/are picked frozen from the vine, which allows for a very concentrated, sweet wine. I brought this particular bottle of Eiswein from my personal collection, as 1992 is my older son's birth year. It is also a wine that he had always mentioned wanting to taste in his lifetime. So in honor of his graduation, he was not only granted his wish, but to mark the moment further, his dream wine also happened to have been harvested the year he was born. How nice was that? I’d say he has a pretty cool mom, wouldn’t you?


P.S.: Giving someone their birth year wine makes a great gift, so if you want to WOW a friend or lover, contact me and I will gladly hunt down their vintage for you. In most cases, I won't have to search any further than my own cellar.