Bar Masa (October 26, 2005)New York, NY A last minute change of plans means that I'm on my own, and rather than squander the precious adult time provided by the babysitter, I elect to head out on the town and dine solo. Bar Masa is the sister restaurant of Masa Takayama's eponymous flagship in the Time Warner complex at Columbus Circle, providing a sampling of the Masa experience (or so I'm told) at a fraction of the breathtaking cost of a meal at Masa, although it should be noted from the outset that depending on your order, you can easily cross the three-digit barrier per person at Bar Masa as well. I'm here to find out whether this experience might indicate whether a splurge at Masa might be worth the expense at some later date, and, frankly, to indulge myself. It's a clear, cold night in Manhattan, and an array of luxury foods seems an appropriate shelter. Bar Masa is located on the fourth floor of the complex, an upscale mall combining restaurants, retailers, and a chaotic mix of New Yorkers in a melange of gently curved glass and polished metal. Each floor is slightly quieter than the last, and the fourth floor is relatively calm. The entrance to Bar Masa is minimally marked, with only a menu in a glass case and a curtain. On the other side of the curtain, I am greeted by the hostess, and a spare, clean rectangular room, with a glossy wooden bar running down one side of the restaurant and tables down the other side, separated by periodic curtains. The patterned tiling on the walls is a nice touch, keeping what could be an acoustically active room relatively quiet, even when busy with diners. The dinner menu offers a selection of sushi, sashimi, and rolls, as well as chilled, grilled, and hot dishes. The menu is somewhat bipolar, creating a dilemma for those who have come here expecting highly refined Japanese cuisine. While that cuisine is represented, to be sure, a sizable fraction of the menu is devoted to Japanese-style renditions of foods that are quintessentially French. I took the lazy way out: go for the premium ingredients, and hope it adds up to a coherent meal. Toro sashimi Two small slices of fatty tuna belly are draped across a leaf, resting on a bed of dried sprouts, accompanied by sliced ginger and fresh wasabi. Both slices are tender and fresh, one more so than the other, almost buttery on the palate although not quite melt-in-your-mouth tender. If anything is a revelation here, it is the wasabi: sharp, clear, focused, with clean sinus-flushing heat that accentuates the tuna. Foie gras, truffle & honey sushi Six pieces of sushi are presented on a long rectangular plate. Each piece is itself perfectly rectangular, roughly 2"x1", composed of a base of sushi rice, with a thin layer of foie gras on top. The honey forms an almost imperceptible glaze on top of the foie, and on top of that are sprinkled bits of truffle. Eating these, one first notices the texture of the rice, and then the unmistakable velvety smoothness of the foie gras and the pungency of the truffle. Other than the rice, there is nothing in this dish that strikes me as Japanese, but it's very hard to argue with foie gras and truffles, and it would be very hard not to order this on a subsequent visit. I tried one piece of this with soy sauce, wondering if perhaps there was magic to be found there. The result was slightly creamy soy sauce, which isn't a bad thing, but it defeats the point of foie gras and truffles. The other five pieces were enjoyed with the sole accompaniment of the Riesling, a reasonably good pairing with the dish. Lobster risotto with oyster mushrooms and truffle This bowl announced its arrival well before it hit the table, with the pronounced aromatics of truffle. The dish is a joy to behold, with perfectly cooked, steaming risotto in a deep brown sauce, interspersed with bits of lobster meat, slices of oyster mushrooms, and finely diced black truffle. Resting on this bed are two large pieces of lobster meat, and paper-thin quarter-sized slices of truffle are liberally scattered across the whole dish. It looks like top-shelf comfort food, and it tastes it as well. I close my eyes and savor the first mouthful at length before returning to earth. I want to savor this dish, but I find myself eating it faster than I intended. If there is any off note at all in this otherwise outstanding risotto, it was the small piece of lobster shell that remained on one of the chunks of meat. Nothing in this dish that strikes me as Japanese; if anything, it's high-end French or Italian. And once more, I can't imagine not ordering this again, purity of cuisine be damned. Green tea mille crepe After eating two French dishes, I'm a little conflicted about a Japanese-French hybrid dessert, but what the hell. On the plate, this looks like a light green slice of pie. In fact, it's a mille-feuille layered pastry, interspersed with a slightly firm green tea custard. The green tea is not overwhelming, but neither is the dessert overly sweet, resulting in a nice blend of texture and flavor that should satisfy those looking for a less cloying ending to a meal. What to make of this? Other than the toro and to some extent the dessert, I don't feel that I reached a new understanding of Japanese cuisine, and certainly it's possible to obtain well-executed French food in more traditional venues. I'm also not sure that the meal as a whole was coherent, or that the French-inflected dishes were anything more than an appeal to Western palates. On the other hand, the execution of these dishes was superlative, and I find myself wondering about my impressions had I stayed with the bounds of the strictly Japanese portion of the menu. I suspect one more Bar Masa experience will be necessary before deciding whether to commit to Masa. As long as I can reserve room for one more helping of risotto...
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