By John Mariani
I’m already on record as insisting that not only will restaurants re-bound after the coronavirus pandemic ends but that they will thrive, albeit in new forms. Historically, they always have, and while some entrenched concepts of the past—restaurant with 500 seats, German rathskellers, Jewish delis, cafeterias—have dwindled, other kinds of restaurants have surged, from upscale counter and sushi bars to storefront Asian and Mexican eateries—not to mention those restaurants who have found outdoor dining and delivery will add measurably to the bottom line when the pandemic passes.
If I had any real concern about a restaurant genre that will have a difficult time coming back, it would be those serving 20-course tastings menus, modernist laboratories with dishes most people don’t ever care to eat again, and the very high-end restaurants catering mostly to a tourist and expense account crowd. Post-Covid, it’s going to be tough to approve the expenditure of $500 per person at a time when the economy remains shaky for some time to come.
Still, fine dining will come back strong, if in a slightly altered style. Long before the coronavirus scare, fine dining rooms had already loosened up, become more casual and dropped any pretense of snobbism. Prices have certainly stabilized or dropped in an effort to attract business. But the cherished rubrics of fine dining are not going to change, and master chefs are not going to start cutting corners.
An excellent case in point is l’escale (they use all lower case letters for some reason) in Greenwich, CT, which veteran restaurateur Rick Wahlstedt opened on the marina in 2003 to immediate success as a French restaurant whose Provençal décor appealed to the affluent patrons of the so-called Gold Coast of Connecticut, while drawing an equally well-off clientele from adjacent Westchester County and, on weekends, Manhattan. Set just off the New England Thruway and blocks from the New Haven train station, it has served as a commuter’s oasis of calm on the water, with a casually elegant dining room with fireplace and a thatched-roof terrace. It’s also one of the most popular wedding reception spaces within fifty miles.
Executive chef Fréderic Kieffer has been here from the beginning, and his cooking has always been a ménage of French and American culinary traditions, offering some dishes that one might find at a posh New York French restaurant like Le Bernardin or Daniel as well bison ribeye steaks and freshly baked cookies. The 500-label wine list, overseen by manager David Fletcher, is one of the finest in the Tri-State region and, while not cheap, includes many bottles at $50 or under.
So, all was going well for the last seventeen years until the pandemic struck in March. Wedding reception and banquet reservations were decimated (although next year’s openings are already completely booked). In stages the state of Connecticut allowed restaurants to do take-out and delivery, then outdoor dining, and, recently, in-door dining. Tables are six feet apart; face masks must be worn by everyone entering the premises; the staff’s temperature is taken daily before work; the staff must wear gloves; they have added a bathroom attendant; and 50% occupancy must be maintained.
All that is to the good and practiced by restaurants and eateries around the state, but on a summer’s evening, overlooking the marina’s flotilla of yachts, the inevitable comparison to being on the French Riviera occurs to everyone. All the amenities are maintained: white tablecloths and napkins, and candles are brought out at twilight; captains are in suits and the young waitstaff in crisp navy blue tennis shirts and white jeans; menus, printed on a single page, are discarded after use; wineglasses (except for the odd, thick-lipped Champagne flutes) are of good quality; the baguettes, from Balthazar bakery, are irresistible, and the butter is at the right temperature. Bossa nova music plays softly in the background.
Indeed, you would think that, except for the ubiquitous masks, nothing has really changed here, but in its ambience and menu, l’escale manifests what I think the future of fine dining will look like in America. Its beauty is easy enough to love—it’s very romantic, and women like dressing the part—and the staff easy to get to know quickly, with everyone bending over backwards to make guests happy. There’s little on the menu that is wholly novel, but everything is backed up by Kieffer’s long experience and that of his sous-chef Angus McLeod, so that thinly sliced raw scallops on a wafer of avocado with citrus, olive oil and dots of jalapeño ($18) starts with perfect, translucent scallops, sweet ripe avocados and good olive oil.
You may begin with a platter of oysters, and there’s a dégustation of 9 oysters, 9 clams, 6 shrimp and a seafood ceviche with brandied cocktail sauce and mignonette ($105). Chilled Andalusian gazpacho with avocado, sunflower seeds and croutons ($16) is perfect for a summer starter, and, this being New England, there’s good reason for the menu to include plump lobster sliders on grilled brioche with sauce americaine ($24), along with juicy beef sliders with pungent blue cheese and pickled shallots ($16). Tuna tartare, subtly seasoned with avocado, English peas, radish stracciatella cheese, sorrel and mint ($24) radiates the spirit of late August.
I cast a questioning eye on French chefs who make pasta, not because their rendering may not be very Italian—it rarely is—but because they are so often overwrought with too many ingredients. Not so l’escale’s: The homemade cavatelli with black Chilean truffles and chanterelles is a superb pasta ($16/32; supplement for truffles $25), as is another with wild mushrooms, favas, and a sage-pine nut pesto ($6/$28). Lightly seared fresh foie gras from the Hudson Valley comes with nebrodini mushrooms, a touch of garlic scapes, and lovely blueberry sauce ($21).
There is, of course, a classic steak au poivre with green peppercorns ($55), and the French fries are terrific, with a lot of potato flavor. A fine piece of halibut came in a bath of bouillabaisse ($42) that really needed a more intense infusion of saffron, garlic, fennel and a rouille. The quality of first-rate ingredients again comes into focus with wonderful Florida grouper with Okinawa potato, chanterelles and, roasted pepper vierge ($42).
Everyone orders desserts at l’escale, many dependent on the fruits of the season—a peach tart is currently the star here with vanilla ice cream ($14), and the crème brûlée with a butter crunch cookie is a luscious balance of creaminess, sweetness and brittle crust ($14). The plate of cookies ($11) are warm and chewy.
There are a daily two- and three-course prix fixe menus at lunch and dinner, but they’re so weighted with supplements—three out of seven dishes—as to seem ingenuous.
This is unquestionably dining at a very high level, and without pretense. It is a menu that has plenty of options for everyone without sloughing into trendy outcroppings like Korean dumplings or Texas chili. It’s the kind of cuisine, served with deft friendliness in a gorgeous setting that assures me that this is the future of fine dining in a post-pandemic America.
