So the only reservation we could get for lunch on Monday at del Posto was at 11:30. We hiked through the snow-capped peaks of the West Village and arrived on time for our freshly-demoted-to-one-Michelin-star lunch. The restaurant was virtually empty, due to the blizzard the day before and the mounds of snow still in the streets, the entire staff devoted to crafting a most memorable lunch for just the two of us. It was an amazing feast, the tasting menu inspired by the season and featuring a (to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas) panko-encrusted partridge with a poached pear and foie gras mousse; lobster with ice lettuce and cauliflower; a shaved-truffle topped cod swimming in a beef broth…
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I don’t know what they could have possibly done to lose that star, or what else they’re going to have to do to get it back. The waiter did mispronounce the name of my wine—I didn’t correct him—but still, a one-star demotion? Were the Michelin tasters deprived of something as children? What more do they want? I couldn’t imagine a more pleasurable, delightful, and tasty experience. Thank you del Posto.
