wednesday, october 28, 2009

by Jennifer Russo

In 1959, Joseph H. Baum opened The Four Seasons Restaurant.  Throughout his career, Baum turned dinner into theater, forever changing restaurant culture and the way we dine. His portfolio included a number of legendary restaurants throughout the city, but many would argue that The Four Seasons was the crown jewel in the collection, and it is his only that still exists in its original location and unadulterated form.   

As described by Gael Greene, “It cost $7,000 just in overtime to change the Philip Johnson-designed Four Seasons from fall to winter in Baum's reign. Flowers were forced to bloom, and the whole caboodle -- uniforms, the upholstery of the banquettes, cummerbunds, matches, ashtrays, the color of the typewriter ribbon -- went from rust to gray. Style was all. Nothing would be served in an old-hat way.”

Now celebrating its 50^th Anniversary year, The Four Seasons is owned by restaurateurs Alex von Bidder and Julian Niccolini.  Following the death of their long-time chef Christian Albin, the pair has finally found a new top toque in Fabio Trabocchi of Fiamma (NYC) and Maestro (Washington, DC) fame. 

Though nothing about The Four Seasons is dated or old-hat –- it’s still a stunning contemporary dining room with a soaring ceiling and in which every table is a power table –- the right change is good.  Trabocchi is instituting more significant change in a few weeks than the restaurant has undergone in the past 50 years. 

The chef is beginning to incorporate his dishes into the restaurant’s classic menu… slowly.  Trabocchi will begin to change out dishes over the coming weeks, as the season changes from fall to winter and as the now autumnal leaves shed from the restaurants four iconic trees surrounding the pool.  These are also the seasons when his signature style is most satisfying. 

Almost everything on the current menu is served tableside, often times with the addition of open flame.  I do hope Trabocchi will keep the pyrotechnics and heed some words of wisdom from Baum that can be applied to both life and the restaurant business, "When in doubt, flambé."

What I’m:

Reading         The current IKEA Catalog

Watching       Alex’s Day Off on Food Network

Eating           Pizzas a libretto from Motorino

Drinking         Manhattans (I’m occasionally wearing them, too)

Listening To   Miike Snow

by Clark E. Nesselrodt

I remember sitting at my desk at my very first job in New York City pondering what to get for lunch. Money was tight, and I used to show off my ability to source a bowl of chili, Caesar salad and a five-pack of chicken nuggets from Wendy’s for $3.11.  As money began to flow more freely and my culinary standards slowly began their ascent, I found myself scouring the neighborhood for different options.  Up and down Madison Avenue, you could find General Tso’s Chicken from Lily’s, super-thick and cakelike pizza from Mozzarelli’s or the ever-coveted street meat from the Halal Cart at 28 Street.  Working in a major PR firm, more than just a few days would find me tucked into a booth at Tabla, Blue Smoke or Country—and every Tuesday demanded Pad Thai from Kelly & Ping.  Summer brought with it impatience and exuberance as the lines at Shake Shack once again snaked their way through Madison Square Park.

Lunch had a way of soothing my soul and creating a stopping point in the day.  It’s easier to rationalize and keep a smile on your face when you can divide the long days into two parts.  I left that job on Madison Avenue, but the pursuit of delicious lunches continued.  Working from home, the desire to get out and sit down for a meal outside the apartment was paramount.  A seemingly endless stream of patty melts from The Dish in Chelsea ensued – only to be supplemented by Bison Cheesesteak Wraps from Energy Kitchen, and even more Pad Thai – this time from Nooch or Room Service – depending on the day. 

My lunchtime gallivants left me feeling full and seemingly satisfied.  With a swollen gut, and often a swimming mind, I’d slide back into my desk.  But, what wasn’t as easy to recognize as noontime’s salivating mouth was my inability to recapture any sense of creativity or productivity after the fanciful feasts.

When I began working at Bullfrog & Baum, I was dismayed by the lunch options.  The tuna salad at Merci Market was great, and the chicken “noodles” soup; a worthy accompaniment.  I needed more.  The Halal carts in the area lacked punch and while delicious, the salad bar at City Bakery often yielded a price tag in excess of $15.  A brief stint of baked potatoes from Totally Baked ended when its doors shuttered and Chipotle always left me asking “how natural is this really?”

Then, about six months ago, through a sheer twist of fate, I found myself staring at the Whole Foods salad bar.  I’d walked by no fewer than 250 times, but I never actually stopped to look.  There were beets.  I like beets.  There was seaweed – which I love, but not as much as crunchy sprouts, which were there in abundance.  Good though it seemed, these wholesome, naturally delicious morsels weren’t what I identified with lunch.  How could I face the second half of my day without the culinary crack that rushed into my bloodstream from my gut, telling me it would all be okay--building a hazy wall in my mind that shielded me from the reality of the afternoon’s work. 

The Whole Foods regimen stuck.  I loved it, and beyond flavor and variety, I found myself in love with a rather unanticipated side effect.  My afternoons were full of energy.  I was able to face the late part of the day with the same tenacity that typified my mornings.  I was on to something exciting, and the only drawback was a growing abhorrence toward sit-down lunches, which are certainly part of the job from time to time. 

It’s been six months since I ate from my now beloved Whole Food salad bar for the first time, and I’m not ashamed to say I often follow up these meals with a return trip for dinner.  The energy and sustenance I feel from the naturally healthy selections has fueled me far beyond eating, inspiring me to exercise more and pay greater attention to my habits in general.  I‘ve been smoke and coffee free since March.

In August 2008, my doctor warned me.  “You only have a few more years until you just about stop metabolizing – so get to the weight you want to be at now.”  He said this as the scale balanced around 238 pounds.  I just saw him again, and all he was able to say as the scale found its center at 203 was “wow.”

It’s the small things that make a big difference, and sometimes those daily, passive habits that we all “just do,” are actually the stalwart keys to major change.  Here lies the source of the ruts many of us find ourselves in.  So tomorrow, eat something different, change your schedule by a few minutes, say ‘Yes!,” to the first invitation you would normally decline…Heaven forbid you walk down a different street on the way to work in the morning!  Shake it up, sit back and enjoy what comes barreling at you in the form of positive change.

by Kay Lindsay