This is THE restaurant that essentially inspired this blog, per the picture of one my courses at the top of the page. I thought it would be appropriate to post this review first. Keep in mind, this isn't so much a food blog as it is a restaurant blog... a restaurant blog, an EXPERIENCE blog, a LIFE blog. After all, to quote Thomas Keller, "food is life."
It seems excessive, after seeing great review upon great review of this restaurant, to write the umpteenth gush about Per Se. For most restaurants, I would just take the contrarian role and mostly bring up shortcomings or damn with faint praise.
Not with Per Se. It's special. I mean that in the most sincere way. I hope the following isn't excessive.
Per Se is a Mount Olympus of restaurants. Not in height, like nearby Asiate, but in stature. Overlooking Columbus Circle, it's a haven of quiet peace that seems delicate and fragile, but in fact is quite sturdy and fortuitous. There's the chairs, the glass and the flora as you enter. They look staged to the point of being fake, artificial. Almost holographic. But then you sit on the chair. You touch the glass. You see the petals and leaves strewn in front of you on the floors and counters as if a lover awaited your arrival. And with the warm, attentive, thorough service, you feel you belong here. Even if, like me, you can very, very scarcely afford this place.
I paid between $200 and $300 for food and alcohol at lunchtime. You're disciplined if your check doesn't exceed than that. I ordered the Chef's five-course tasting menu with some drinks (I couldn't resist their signature gin and tonic, tonic made in-house, and a 750 mL bottle of Brooklyn Brewery's Blue Apron Ale, made exclusively for Per Se).
They gave me a complimentary glass of champagne to start. I realized, unconsciously at first, but more fully now, that this beautiful, delicate glass of crisp, dry champagne was an emblem of not just privilege but knowledge. And, depending on who you ask, enlightenment. It's bubbles fizzed with a whisper, "It's a celebration worth toasting just to be able to come in and sit down here. Enjoy it. Treasure it." It's all downhill from here.
I ate at Per Se on Halloween, which couldn't have been more appropriate in hindsight. Everyone knows that on Halloween, you get to be someone or something you're not. Per Se is not who I am. Not even close. I almost never dress up in suits and loafers if I can help it. But I did, and I milked it. It may sound strange, but I like pretention. And I can't imagine anyone saying that Per Se isn't pretentious. After all, it seems that's kind of the point.
And that's fine with me. I closely associate "pretentious" with ambitious, which, to me, is a very good thing 99 times out of 100. When people negatively connotate "pretentious," I always assume they mean concieted or over the top; too flashy, tasteless to the point of obnoxiousness. The only manner in which I negatively connotate "pretentious" is entitlement and opulent excess without self-awareness, by which I am very put off. VERY put off.
Per Se was pretentious in both senses. This made my experience fascinating in terms of contradiction. This was not my scene. Not even close. I don't own a billion-dollar condo in Columbus Circle or Central Park West. I had never seen, nor did I ever think I'd see, two servers preparing, shaking and pouring two cocktails simultaneously to the point of ballet-like symmetrically. Certainly, I never expect that kind of graceful luxury. But I love fine food and I learn more and more about it every day. It's my new obsession, overtaking music, which, if you know me, is saying something. But I don't know shit about food this good. I talk a lot about how much I love Per Se's executive chef, Thomas Keller, but I don't know him, have never met him, have not read a lot about him, don't own any of his cookbooks and, before this point, had never eaten at any of his restaurants.
This kind of inward/outward tension, for me, is why the service was my favorite part of the Per Se experience and the best service I may ever have the pleasure of experiencing. These guys don't always wear bowties. (But it'd be funny if they did.) They're service industry workers, the largest overall industry in the United States. They have the challenge of having to fluctuate between incredible and invisible at any given moment. I could tell from one particular 20-something server I chatted with that she genuinely LOVED working there, and she wouldn't work in any other service job, even the money were better. Maybe. Though I've got to imagine money is the main motivation for working there. I would know a few things about that. I worked in the restaurant service industry for years. Because of that experience, or in spite of it, I have enormous respect for waiters and waitresses who really know what they're doing and can really make you feel happy, hearty, comfortable and wanted-- taken care of.
That's what truly blew me away about Per Se: the service. And it's also why I'll probably never end up going back to this once-in-a-lifetime experience. After all, it wouldn't be once-in-a-lifetime if you did it twice, would it? That'd just be excessive.
Official Web site
NYT's Frank Bruni four-star review
Gayot's review
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