Daniel

Daniel was one of the first true “fine dining” restaurants we went to as people with an opinion that anyone cared about, and to be fair, “anyone” was pretty much our parents and a handful of people in the East Village at the time.

It’s also important to know that our first visit was sometime in 2010, right in the heat of social media impacting the dining scene, and the restaurants people were talking about tended to be causal, communal, and adventurous. Many of them were even popping up a new part of town called “Brooklyn.” So we initially went in to Daniel somewhat expecting to be disappointed by a restaurant that was too expensive, too French, and likely past its prime.

We were wrong.

photo credit: Noah Devereaux

It turns out that our meal at Daniel was absolutely incredible. It lived up to all expectations and even exceeded some. To start, the service was perfect. Never once did we get the French guy stink eye—only friendly and attentive stewardship from people who know what you want better than you do. The food is classic, with little deviation from standard French practice, but it’s also inventive and insanely satisfying. We ate a lot, and not one thing let us down.

What surprised us though, was how lively the restaurant was on a Saturday evening. Considering that this place is situated in the epicenter of old money New York City, we expected to see nothing but cranky old ladies wearing fur and treating the bus boys like personal property. Instead, we found lots of young couples and people from out of town who were crossing this place off their bucket list. It’s a nice environment, especially if you eat in the salon area that’s a bit more informal and upbeat.

Ultimately, Daniel is one of the best dining experiences we’ve ever had, and we’re glad to be saying that. And while this definitely doesn’t change the way we feel about the other places of his that we’re less fond of, it does add a little bit of context, and help us understand why people are still giving this guy money. If someone hit us up right after this meal to invest in a “downtown gastropub modeled after CBGB’s” we probably would have done it. Good thing we've got all our money tied up in this little gold mine of a website instead. Who wants to buy some banner ads?

The menu at Daniel changes regularly, but take a look at the photos in the Food Rundown to get a sense of what’s on offer.

Food Rundown

The menu at Daniel changes regularly, but here are some of the dishes we had so you can get a sense of what’s to offer.

photo credit: Neha Talreja

Yellowfin Tuna

These small squares of seared yellowfin tuna are cured in pastis, then paired with a creamy sauce phocéenne, and garnished with dollops of uni, citrus fern, and small chunks of blood orange. Each piece is like a soft, fishy, citrus-jelly candy, and a hell of a lot more interesting than a tuna tartare.

Provence White Asparagus

The white asparagus is lightly blanched until it reaches a creamy consistency, soft enough to separate into strands rather than a clean cut when you touch it with a knife. It’s a buttery base to go with a buttery nut—this dish is as much about the pistachio elements as it is the asparagus. Swirl the drizzle of pistachio oil into the creamy brie and brown butter sauce, and get a piece of the pistachio-laced puff pastry squiggles and kernels in each bite. It’s a simple-looking dish, but one of the most memorable ones.

photo credit: Neha Talreja

Maine Sea Scallops “Rosette”

Scallop rosettes are a signature move from the chef. The scallops are cut into thin slices and then overlapped to create a rosette shape. As the scallops cook, the thin slices seal together and create a disc. In this case, that disc is flavored with a sweet citrus passion-fruit vinaigrette (just fine) and topped with salty celtuce and sea grapes (obsessed).

photo credit: Neha Talreja

Wild Atlantic Turbot

Our favorite dish of the evening is this mound of turbot, served with castelvetrano olives, buckwheat campanelle, and a sauce Roscoff that’s heavy on the mustard. The sweet fish is good on its own, but we can’t get enough of the bright, peppery olive nettles, pressed together in a wet, emerald mound, under a seafoam-like nettle sauce. Together with the gravy, they gave this dish some unexpected spice, and wake up those buckwheat noodles.

photo credit: Neha Talreja

Colorado Springs Lamb

This spinach and brassica-stuffed saddle is the main entree, but it’s a letdown, especially following the turbot dish. The lamb is too gamey, and neither the cucumber confit or mint-infused lamb juice add much, except a slight bitterness.