This is Highly Recommend, a column dedicated to what we’re eating, drinking, and buying.
I recently celebrated a dear friend's birthday at Marcel 945 Madison, the much buzzed about restaurant at Sotheby's global headquarters (RIP, old Whitney) on the Upper East Side of New York. Inside the Breuer Building, named for its Brutalist architect, it is a space to behold, equal parts concrete and midcentury walnut accents. Every detail—the luscious lighting, the forged flatware, the tufted mohair banquettes—is exquisitely considered and, likely, for sale.
In this beautiful room full of beautiful people, I could not take my eyes off the frites, priced at $22 under the "Accompagnements" section of the menu in Chroma sans serif type.
Skinny but not shoestring, long, golden, and perfectly salted, they practically glowed from within a napkin-lined bread basket. Every frite was pert, not a single one enervated under a mountain of hot fries. There was no oily outline at the bottom, either.
When I first saw the large portion, I felt a brief wave of doubt: Could we even finish these? How silly of me. We made quick work of the basket, with not a single spud left behind. These fries are so good, they do not need the crutch of a condiment—though they did reach another stratosphere when dipped in plain mayonnaise.
“I like them best with the chicken jus in the roasted chicken dish, or sauce au poivre with the filet de boeuf,” recommends Marie-Aude Rose, chef-partner at Marcel.
When people talk about life's little luxuries, they're talking about these frites. If the best McDonald's fries spent a transformative semester in Paris, they would be a little closer—but still untouchable—to Marcel's frites.
Is $22 pricy? Yes. But we're not talking about a paltry handful landing in a stainless steel cup lined with parchment. These are impeccable, best-in-class wonders, elegantly and generously presented.
I was so in awe that I had to know the deliberate thinking that must be responsible for such perfection. Rose says it is a long process. The kitchen begins with Idaho Russet, chosen not just for taste, but for length and sugar and moisture content that she calls “adequate to frying.”
The potatoes are cut with a French fry cutter, soaked in water, then dried and pre-fried in peanut oil at 160C (320F). During service, they are fried again in clean peanut oil at 180C (356F) and then seasoned with La Baleine fine sea salt, Rose’s salt of choice for seasoning all food at the restaurant.
"Time is important,” Rose said. “You cannot rush cooking.”
Please, chef, take all the time you need.