Corton

This is a tough one… As the experience for Corton was just that — an «experience.»
I was super excited to go, as was my boyfriend after watching a documentary on the chef. Clearly he is super passionate about his food and business and has a had a long road coming to open Corton.
That being said I feel there are a few things that could have made the experience more enjoyable.
1. Would be have music. I know you are trying to create this simple, no fuss atmosphere, but having zero music is distracting and you can’t drown out the other tables around you. My boyfriend and I would try to have a conversation but we constantly drowned out by a womans high-​pitched laugh sitting two tables away from us. After she left and we were almost the last ones there, we could here the couple sitting 4! tables away from us discussing their divorce.
2. Would be the Design — again I get the no fuss — all about the food play… but the atmosphere is so uninspiring and plain.
Our server was ok — not overly friendly nor rude.
The food was interesting, presented beautifully but not overly GREAT tasting. But definitley good and we appreciated the gorgeous presentation BUT I honestly can’t specially remember any dish I had.
All in all my boyfriend and I are glad we went, but would never go back… especially for the price.

Somebody asked what we ate here the next day, and neither of us could remember.
The service was impeccable, which is to be expected at such an expensive place, but it really was some of the best service we’ve seen. Hat’s off to them for that.
We had the tasting menu, which consisted of more courses than I can even remember. I vaguely remember something about gold flakes that my fiancée was excited about on one of the courses, but that’s pretty much the only thing we could remember after leaving.
There are some good flavors, and nothing was bad. The problem is that the chef overcomplicated the dishes so much that our head was spinning just trying to understand what the waiter was telling us we were eating. When you mix that many flavors together, it’s hard to even understand how to eat it, even though the waiters tried to explain that.
When you need an instruction manual to eat the food, the chef needs to learn about simplicity. You don’t have that problem at other high-​end restaurants, like Daniel, or WD-​50, both of which are amazing and have us as repeat customers. They focus on a single main component per dish, and then the other things on the plate enhance that bite.
Don’t order the tasting menu. Go with the prix fixe or something else, or save your money and go somewhere else.

…what is this, this is gorgeous, I recognize only the perfect tiny radish, but what is this pale green disc, what, cucumber or gelee, and this fuzzed sphere, did he call it rabbit shoulder rolled in basil, but why then this silky texture, and this glistening cylinder surely is the cuttlefish, but no, it gives like sashimi but it hits like rabbit, it’s the rabbit loin, but how, or is the rabbit note coming from this deeply flavored jus, but I thought it was supposed to be carrots, or was it lapsang souchong…
I have never felt less well-​equipped to review a restaurant than for Corton.
I usually go course-​by-​course when describing a tasting menu, but I do not think I can even capture a *single* one of Corton’s dishes in words. One menu description: «Foie gras and peekytoe crab wrapped in red cabbage gelee, vinaigrette of opal basil scented with violet mustard, fresh elderberry salad.» It turns out the ingredient lists are not just unenlightening but misleading, since each dish had at least 3 additional unlisted elements.
Besides, even if I told you that almond crème and ramp mayonnaise and lemon olive oil jam and white beer sorbet and nasturtium petal gelee and chartreuse all showed up… What would that say, really? That chef Paul Liebrandt is a drunk with a dartboard?
Hardly. It is intensely cerebral food. Strange flavors materialize from nowhere, then dissipate like wisps of smoke. It was like hearing a work of difficult literature as an audiobook you aren’t able to rewind: you sense the themes are there, the connections between disparate elements, but everything is passing so quickly, and you can’t go back to appreciate the beauty of the sentences, or indeed even form a well-​founded opinion on whether they’re beautiful at all.
That there is design behind the madness is never in doubt. But I spent the meal trying to figure out whether it was more like James Joyce’s Ulysses — dense with allusion and self-​reference and complex pleasures — or Finnegans Wake — gratuituously impenetrable, willfully unknowable, and to many reasonable people ultimately pointless. I’m still not sure.
One thing is certain: there are effects occurring on those plates that happen nowhere else around town. How can the heat of a wasabi sorbet take a full five seconds to arrive after it hits the tongue? Yet it does. How can that opening paragraph above represent not a cacophonous conglomerate of notes, but something more akin to an intensely curated orchestral tone poem? Yet it does.
I’ve moved from literary to musical analogy, mixing metaphors in the process. (One hardly curates a musical piece.) No accident: I have to reach, imperfectly, towards the nonculinary arts to capture something of the Corton experience. Most of the tasting menus around town are putting novel twists on familiar flavor combinations or elevating ingredients past their usual breaking points to achieve something new yet grounded. Liebrandt is doing something different. Corton hews to none of the standard evolutionary rays: classical tradition, molecular gastronomy, pseudocounterculture hipsterification. It exists in a different dimension.
Which is not to say a different level. Anyone who calls this meal their favorite in NY is one of two things, or possibly both: 1. a liar, 2. a pretentious git. Corton is not about elevation to transcendence. Do not come expecting that. It is about taking you to a different place altogether. That the «fairy tale of Aubergine and Caviar» was served on a plate reminiscent of an extraterrestrial landscape cannot be a coincidence. I arrived, explored, and left confused and dazzled and enervated. I wasn’t even sure I enjoyed it.
But I wanted to go back.
Probability of return within 1 year: 5% (I didn’t say I have the money to go back.)

The atmosphere and vibe are inviting but the real draw at Corton is its inventive and intricate food. The tasting menu is just that — the chef provides a big enough portion to get a good flavor and look at what is a magnificent plate but not enough so that you have too much of it. In fact, as each course is cleared, the diner is left wanting a bit more but the taste on the palate remains.
The staff is attentive and helpful and serves to enhance the meal. Great, although pricey, wine list but the sommelier is helpful and knowledgeable.
Either tasting menu is a good choice!

This, by far, my favorite restaurant in Manhattan. The décor is minimalist style, and yet, sets the mood perfectly. The wine list is extensive. Corton is a small area specializing in Pinot in the Burgundy region of France, and the wine list reflects that. You will find some of the best well-​kept secret gems from the area here.
The menu is seasonal, and of course is Prix Fixe. If it is on the menu, a must try is the seasonal garden salad. That may seem like a mundane dish, but the flavors are unique. More than 20 different vegetables go into the dish, and a different flavor tantalizes the mouth with every fork full.
The main courses are bursting with flavor. So far my favorites have been the pork, as well as the filet of beef.
Desserts are always creative, as well as the fresh macarons.
The service is impeccable; the sommelier is very knowledgable and can pair any dish with any wine from their encyclopedia of choices.
As with any Michelin starred restaurant, Corton is well deserving of their 2 stars. It is upscale, but not pretentious. Unique, but not complacent. The ever-​changing seasonal menu means you must come back here each season to sample something new every time.
Every time I am in NYC, I visit Corton. You should too.

My husband and I had the full tasting menu, which doesn’t seem to be listed on the website. We joked that we would need to stop by McDonald’s after the meal after seeing the tiny little plates, but it it was MORE than enough food (I’d guess at least 30+ plates!)
That being said at least half of the dishes were incredibly disappointing. In an effort to be avant garde, the chef seemed to be forgetting that taste is by far the most joyous part of a meal. We spent more than $ 1,000 on this meal including wines. For that price, I expected much better. (the wines were wonderful though).
The presentation of the plates was beautiful and the sommelier was very attentive. I do wish the server spent a bit more time explaining to us some of the more «unique» dishes however. He seemed to be in a rush and was unfriendly — when I asked him for more information explaining the dishes he acted like it was my fault that I didn’t understand French culinary terms. When I would try to joke with him about an unusual dish, he would roll his eyes. So unprofessional. I understand that everyone has an off day, but I find that very displeasing in an upscale restaurant. Corton really needs to work on that.
Their sommelier and inventive food deserve a 4 or a 5, but their flawed service, lack of attention to explaining their dishes, and disappointing plates bring them to a 3.

The whispers surrounding the fate of the space once occupied by Montrachet, now the site of Corton, grew to a roar at the announcement that Paul Liebrandt would be heading the kitchen. This was no longer the pre-​gentrified TriBeCa, and seemed ill-​suited for what was sure to be a restaurant on the fringe of culinary modernity. Mr. Liebrandt after all, was the mind behind audacious gastronomical ventures like calf brain espuma and asparagus velouté with vanilla and yuzu. Montrachet had grown into a reputation of sophistication and peerless refinement. The appointment of chef Liebrandt seemed to embody a firm remanding of that reputation.
But Mr. Liebrandt has not borne the weight of the obligatory culinary bad-​boy label in quite some time. Corton opened to nearly universal praise, and upon receiving two Michelin stars in 2010, has retained them since. This acclaim rests by and large on the highly refined cuisine critics felt sure that Mr. Liebrandt could not will himself to replicate. Last week, I decided to see for myself if any sense of rebellion still fueled his cooking.
Shortly after arriving, in the midst of checking our coats, Y and I marveled at the tranquility with which we were greeted. Simple, elegant white walls were spared from austerity through minute flourishes of embossed vines, almost imperceptible but utterly necessary to prevent the natural, subconscious reaction of most when confronted with perceived sterility. Low, plush, verdant banquettes lined the walls, save for the bar, across from which Y and I were seated. In spite of this, we felt an inexplicable solitude. Though the restaurant was quiet, the tables around us, particularly the large circular one in the center, were by no means silent. The solitude instead seemed to stem from the graceful nature of the waitstaff, the lingering passage of time between plates, and the hidden nature of the kitchen. The arrival of each course felt like sudden, gentle reminders of our preoccupation and purported purpose. These circumstances were further furnished by the surprising unavailability of the seasonal menu; something which the both of us had been greatly anticipating, our intention being to experience a tighter, more focused rendition of dishes. We thus chose the tasting menu with little in the way of contemplation. I gave the briefest of mentions of my allergies, and the rest was left to surprise us.
Our four amuse served as a precursor to the not-​so-​subtle theme of the evening: salt. The pocket concealing mornay sauce was the high point, but the rest were just too salty to truly enjoy. Fitting in a way, given that both the amuse and courses to come often rested on beds or blocks or patches of salt. The hollowed out egg serving as a vehicle for the most intense ode to truffle and foie gras I’ve ever tasted, for instance, came atop a small pillar of salt. I believe the rest of Lot’s wife was in the egg itself. Thankfully, the «Spirit of Autumn» provided a welcome reprieve, with its slight tartness from the apple cider gelee, its delicate smokiness and substantial porkiness from the ham consommé, and its heady balance of sweetness and earthiness from the sweet potato gnocchi. The turbot and the wagyu — even in their myriad of presentations and flavor profiles — did not reach that sublime level of perfectly embodying seasonality while maintaining a thoughtful, composed taste. I appreciated the degustation of the fish from a technical standpoint, but the individual components did not seem to stand out enough to merit it. It felt as though something was lost in translation. The wagyu tartare perilously perched atop a naan puff stuffed with curry was quickly overwhelmed. Better executed was the simple slab of wagyu leaning amongst an array of grilled and rarefied vegetables.
The desserts were not without a sense of justice, being absurdly sweet, possibly to counter the proceeding barrage of sodium. Yet they worked in spite of their collective sweetness, as each had just enough of something else to alleviate one’s guilt at eating them and one’s churning stomach bracing itself against such influxes of sugar. The tarragon and fig distracted from with sheaths of gold were actually the stars of the artfully festooned chocolate log. The sour cherry purée did a more than capable stand-​in for jam in the «Maple» dessert; a play on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches so well-​done that I briefly wondered if hating peanut butter meant there was just something wrong with me. The banana macarons were quite good as well, but were more difficult to appreciate, given that they were among the ‘petit fours’ portion of our meal, which the kitchen apparently decided means ‘give people desserts until they burst or until the table collapses.’ The sheer amount of sweets was truly comical.
While I was not surprised that there was little rebellion to the cuisine, I was surprised at the bombastic nature of it. This new found deft hand could still be a bit more sparing.

I went to this restaurant with my husband for our anniversary.
The experience was great and the food really delicious!
It is expensive but worth every penny.
The decoration is also nice, very calming and relaxing.

Serving just the right amount of food at a tasting menu is an art. You would never want your patrons to leave hungry, but it’s all too easy to overfeed them to the point of discomfort. When tasting menus have portions that are too large, I feel like the heavier courses (frequently those most looked forward to when one initially views the menu) are not enjoyed nearly as much.
Paul Leibrandt’s Corton has the art of the tasting menu down to a science. It is truly and perfectly proportioned. At the end of our 14-​course extravaganza, I was full but not ready to roll myself out the door. I then proceeded to gorge myself on the delicious mini-​banana and lavender macaroons that concluded the meal with house-​made chocolate truffles. Then I was ready to roll out the door, but I could only blame myself for that.
GQ recently ranked Corton as the 3^rd best restaurant in NYC (only behind Le Bernadin and Brooklyn Fare). I haven’t been to too many other places in NYC, but I have been around a bit and I thought Corton was fantastic.
My wife and I recently ate at Corton in the last night of a short anniversary trip to NYC. Like many restaurants of this caliber, there’s only 2 dining options: the normal tasting (about 14-​courses) and a shorter «seasonal» tasting. Always wanting to get the full experience, we rolled with the tasting w wine pairings.
It would take a lot of space to describe this feast, but in summary it involved Scottish langoustine, peekytoe crab, fois gras, wood pigeon (I didn’t even know pigeon was edible), mandarin mochi (Japanese rice cake), Spanish mackerel (best fish ever?), surf/​razor clam bourride, beef ribs prepared 3 ways (tartare with naan bread, 72-​hour rib with BBQ spices, and gelee with uni), Berkswell cheese plate, maple/​sour cherry/​coffee/​almond sponge cake w toast-​flavored ice cream, dark chocolate extravaganza w apricot, caramelized white sesame, and roasted cocoa nibs. Sounds good? Yes, it was all delicious and each course perfectly proportioned to 2 – 4 bites so we were never overly full.
The sommelier, although not friendly, was highly skillful. Almost all the wines he selected were French and had a nice variety of whites/​reds. He had this amazing ability that despite a full house, every time we set a wine glass down empty before the completion of a course, he magically reappeared for a refill. I think we had 2 refills each of Bordeaux during the Beef Rib triple-​header course. Quite generous.
If I could criticize anything about Corton, it would be that there was no music. Just a little bit of trendy background music can really add a lot to the atmosphere. It’s not that hard, just put the xx on nonstop repeat and you’ll be doing pretty good.
One thing I would especially like to mention is that during our recent NYC trip, we visited 4 Michelin-​starred restaurants and told each that it was our 10-​year wedding anniversary. Corton was the only one who acknowledged it in any fashion (they gave us an extra dessert with edible gold «Happy Anniversary» on it). We thought that was extremely classy. It was great to see that even a very acclaimed restaurant such as Corton wasn’t above doing a little extra to give a personal touch to our special occasion.

Chef Liebrandt is great!
He is so creative, so daring, so awesome… blah, blah, blah.
Regardless, he knows his food.
His food is fine. I mean real fine!
I make my trip up to his shrine once a year to experience and witness his progression of understanding food.
I am glad he is here.
One of the great chef that I can grow old with!

The blueberry tapioca, fromage blanc — the tapioca was done to perfection. Hands down, it’s my favorite dessert. :)
Aesthetically beautiful plating.

It is a complete and utter injustice that Corton has a mere three and a half stars. What the hell is wrong with people? Yes, the food is complicated. Yes, the interior is a bit minimalist. I certainly agree that the décor doesn’t inspire that warm fuzzy feeling. I can see how people would interpret the ambiance as pretentious (we actually got a stern talking to from one server for using a flash inside the restaurant). And yes, the expense of eating here is somewhat astronomical. However, the food is undeniably delicious, intriguingly complex, and each dish is beautifully plated. Not to mention, it was my mother’s birthday, and we mentioned that her favorite is seared foie gras — they brought out a foie gras dish not on the menu for each of us and didn’t even charge extra! The size of the foie gras on each plate was the size of a baseball. ..
I almost can’t go into the glory of the food because we had about 12 dishes and each one was fantastic. Stand outs were the snail, the rabbit pasta, the cutest mini rabbit burger. .. I could go on and on.

Came here for Valentine’s Day this year. Had reservations for one of the first seatings of the night. I was really anxious to try this place. Having watched the documentary about Corton and Paul Liebrandt’s A Matter of Taste, I had a feeling this place was going to be good.
We had the tasting menu. Let’s face it, if you’re going to eat at a Michelin that you haven’t tried before, you’re going to want to try it all. A couple of months down the road I can still remember some notable dishes, like the amuse bouche OYSTER BERNAISE STUFFED CRACKER and the POTATO CROQUETTE. The APPLE WASABI W/​GOLD LEAF was really refreshing. The SWEETBREAD SANDWICH changed my negative past experiences of sweetbread dishes. And the PETIT FOURS? There was so much given to us, it was more like petit twenty-​eight!
Our overall dinner was pleasant. Definitely worth the cost, but to be honest, there’s a reason why this place remains a two and not a three star Michelin. That ‘wow’ factor was definitely not there.
3.5 stars.

Came here on a Friday night with a friend. Having lived in the area for almost 2 years, I felt embarrassed having never heard of this restaurant. I felt even more embarrassed passing right by it on my walk over.
Restaurant ambiance is minimalist, and very quiet – I felt like I was in the Guggenheim.
Anyway, onto the food. We ordered the tasting menu, and I don’t know anything about French food, but luckily our server came by with every new dish to explain what we were eating. Servings are pretty small, but prolonged over the 3.5 hours it took to get through all the dishes (agree with Ben L.), I left pretty full. Honestly, it didn’t really feel like that long – I wonder if it was because the dish in front of me kept changing or because I was in good company. :-)
Not sure I’d be back… mostly because of price (my friend paid, thank you!!)

Brought here by my high school amigo, Cliff, who has much more fine dining experience than me, frequenting places such as French Laundry.
The restaurant itself is quite bleak, with is barren white walls. But I guess that focuses your attention to company and your edible canvas.
My palate relishes the chef’s palette. The first course Goghes straight to my heart instead of dilly-​Dali-​ing with uncertainty. My core Screamed with excitement while I Munched on my main course. Finally, a dessert I Will not Rafuse.
Overall impressionalism:
Décor is minimalist
Textures are abstract.
Overall good value for your Monet comparative to other fine dining options in the city.

Meh.

Part 3 of a Series: The PMD Chronicles (How I Fell in Love with a Murderer)
The mood: a stormy Wednesday evening, 9pm. TriBeCa streets are darkened and glistening. Abel Ferrara would definitely be shooting tonight.
The setting: a white room without windows, with more empty tables than full ones. Those that are occupied seem to be filled with either the typical «older man/​younger woman» combination that is so frequent when the man has money, or the «older man/​older woman» combo that just naturally happens as time cruelly moves forward. The tables are covered in white cloths and bedecked with tiny glass vases housing fresh exotic flowers.
The characters: a lovely young woman, covered in tattoos, and her handsome prince consort. He is not tattooed but he has the murderous madman gleam in his blue eyes. Did I mention that he’s handsome?
The food: select from one of two set menus — a five course «Summer» menu, or a nine course Tasting menu. The server suggests going with the former, and tacking on additional dishes from the latter. Nopey! Instead, the couple selects the nine course Tasting menu (155 $ each), inquiring if the Wagyu beef course from the Summer menu could be added. The server blanches and says that due to the late hour, it might not be possible as the Tasting menu runs three hours.
The drinks: A beer is poured for the handsome man, a rum cocktail is crafted for the lovely lady. Upon finishing them, they decide to share a half bottle of wine, not wanting to get too inebriated so they are able to enjoy the meal fully.
The food (part 2): The amuse is charming, including a delicate little nugget of potato that needs to be eaten in one bite; if not, the molten cheese interior will dribble down your chin ungainly (she learns this the hard way and needs another napkin). The feast begins: it is fancy, each course plated intricately with tweezers and deft fingers. Gelees are rampant, broths and sauces are poured table side. Gold leaf flecks tiny squares of unidentifiable morsels. Additional plates house other components of the course. At one point, there are literally eight plates on the table between two people.
The food (part 3): Despite the alleged time constraint, the kitchen sends out a complimentary tenth course, the Wagyu beef. It is delicious. It is appreciated.
The food (part 4): Desserts are beautiful and complex. This is savaged, as you may view from the photograph uploaded. Details are hazy at this point, for it is late. The lady requests that the mignardises be packed to go.
The service: Not particularly impressive, save for the food runners who are friendly. Explanations of each dish are rushed and superficial, a shame when there are nine courses of complex composition and components.
The damage: two Tasting menu at 155 $ each, cocktail at 16 $, beer around 10 $, wine somewhere in the 35 $ region and you’ve got yourself a 500 $ dinner after tax and tip. Is it worth it? That’s for you to decide. Our lady and gentleman are not particularly impressed.
The aftermath: our characters return to the W Hotel where a bottle of Veuve Clicquot awaits them in the room’s mini refrigerator, and porn movies are at the ready to be watched. Clothing is doffed, blood is shed; thankfully, the W provides a gleaming silver bucket to capture the runoff. (What do you mean that’s for ice?)

Rant first: People need to research where they are eating before they go and to say a place is «bad» because you are not the upscale dining type and or you didn’t expect it to be full tasting menu is like saying «I hate this club because I don’t want to dress up and i like dive bars»
Well if you don’t like upscale dining or full tasting menus then don’t go to them.
It is not as crazy fancy as Eleven Madison but this tribeca gem’s décor is similar to a midtown upscale restaurant with spacious couch seating, minimum décor and light neutral color/​lighting.
Last night’s dinner was very nice (I think just one notch away from amazing). Only complaint of the place was AC was pretty high so initially it felt a bit colder than comfortable.
Note that menu is seasonal and subject to change:
There are three amuse bouches courses, pardon me for not remembering the long descriptions but basically there are some interesting toasted ravioli, some cream ball of potato which was delightful and a seaweed based puff. The Black bean with corn soup was ok, a bit messy because the bean paste can get on your hands pretty easily. then there was some kind of tar tar with peppered lime drizzle which was very nice.
We opted for the Autumn shorter tasting due to a late start. First course was heirloom tomatoes with a wonderful plum sauce, baby radishes and a side dish of some amazing sheep’s milk ice cream, pepper and ajo blanco. The first dish was a good start, seemingly simple but they used a lot of different techniques to create the texture and flavor which I appreciated. (reminds me of eleven Madison and recette type of amazing dishes)
Second monkfish course was very good. The fish was nicely seared with some artichoke sauce and amazingly soft artichoke with onion crisp. which is pretty awesome. Side dish is a thin brown crêpe with some steamed baby veggies and some pretty tasty sauce.
We had the choice between beef or hen and i choose beef. The plate presentation makes it almost looks like a serving of chocolates. All the items lined up from the Wagu beef topped by a truffle blackened spongy bread, then the brunt eggplant, onion, some interesting foam held by another veggy little dish and a piece of the short rib. with vingerete garnish. it was a lovely and thoughtful combination of texture.
side dish is i think pineapple crisp on top and some kind of purée below
The mellon dish was a bit ridiculous with a LOT of foam on top. i mean you can practically have a bubble bath in it. but tasted very crisp and was interesting with the Riesling ice cream.
The sesame ice cream dish was another wonderful focus on one thing but different flavor and texture from ice cream to pudding type to cream.
And of course to end with the all you can eat macaroons and chocolate petti fours were pretty awesome. Pimms macaroons? AMAZING!!! rootbeer truffle is also very good. Dark chocolates are always my fav.
By the end of the night we drank 6 bottles of wine, three white and three red, as they have a very nice wine list for the wine lovers.
I had a good experience, the tasting is reasonably priced and is more impressive than other restaurants’ tasting of the same price range ~100 per head without beverage.

I’ve been to Corton twice, once when I knew the sommelier/​beverage director and once when I did not. I think it’s really telling that both experiences were equally great. So, you don’t have to be an «insider» to get really great service and amazing food. Although, you probably do have to be willing to drop some cash, but I think that goes without saying.
Chef Liebrandt runs an impressive show here, it was an amazing adventure with each course. The «garden» dish is particularly delicious; the truffle pasta was amazing. The food «experiments» are spot on in their unique flavor combinations. Really impressive wine list, but I’m definitely biased. ;)
Totally recommended. Jean-​Georges (main dining room) remains my favorite restaurant in the city, but new (ish)-comer Corton surely gives them a run for their money.

Paul Liebrandt just might be one of the most brilliant and progressive chefs in NYC. Corton was one of those amazing surprises that we didn’t see coming. Like many of the great two star Michelin places, which seems to be the most exciting categorizations of restaurants currently, it’s an experience in non traditional flavor profiles, semi experimental techniques, and precision. Comparisons would be Momofuku Ko, Coi, Manresa, La Terraza Del Casino. I could go on and on.
From the nondescript entry, to the stark shades of white of the dining room, it proved to be much cozier and quaint than I expected. We were going to do the tasting menu but due to my friends dietary restrictions we had to create our own prixe-​fixe instead. Dishes had:
«From the Garden»
Young Vegetables, Herbs of the Season
Summer Sea
Kusshi Oyster | Pecan, Smoked Quail Toast
Peekytoe Crab, Almond Ice Cream, Mirai Corn Gazpacho
Ayu, Wild Spinach, Garlic Flowers
Cannon of Lamb
Smoked Eggplant, Baby Leeks, Crab Apple Gelée
Rabbit
Rabbit Loin/​Liver, Diver Scallop, Artichoke, Sweet potato, and Albufera sauce
«Gold Bar»
Pedro Ximénez, Smoked Caramel Ice Cream
Sesame
Apricot, Yuzu | Buttermilk Granita, Lychee
Everything was fantastic. This might have been one of the most eye opening and satisfying meals I’ve had recently. I’m very big on new experiences and the way the food was put together here, it definitely caught us. The servers are quite friendly and the service is comfortable. I felt no snobbishness here. Heading over to the restroom, I walked into the kitchen by mistake and almost ran into Chef Liebrandt himself, who directed me to the correct door.
I think places like this are so progressive that most diners either come away completely excited or they just don’t get it. If you’re a fan of chefs who push the envelope and think of cuisine in a very different way, I’d highly recommend Corton to attain a very new culinary experience.