Introducing Gallen de Robuchon - Plus, first Restaurant Review: Todd English's Olives

A Spanish teacher of mine back in high school thought it was hilarious that my last name was a measurement of milk as well as other liquid substances (albeit spelled differently), so while everyone else in the class was named Juan, Jorge, Esteban, etc., I was named Gallen de Leche. That has stuck with me through the years, with my college buddies giving me such esteemed nicknames as Gallen de Letdown, Gallen de Disappointment, Gallen de Motorboat... you get the idea. Now, the past few years Coach Louey (of classy pocket square fame) has gotten me into Top Chef, which is an unbelievable show. If you haven't watched it, I suggest you start. But anyway, this past season, one of the guest judges during one of the episodes was Joel Robuchon, a French chef who was given the title of "Chef of the Century." He is literally the greatest chef of the last 100 years. Absurd right? WRONG. The man is a genius. So I decided that I would take on a culinary altar-ego in honor of this cooking legend. Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce you to - Gallen de Robuchon. Gallen de Robuchon (or the Chef of the Century, as he's commonly referred) will be popping up here and there to give you his honest assessment on various dining experiences that he has, the first of which is in this post. Chef of the Century, take it away!

Restaurant Review: 
Todd English's Olives
At the W - Union Square
201 Park Ave. South
New York, NY 10003

Ambience:
Olives, at first glance, is quite the classy establishment. Lots of chic New Yorkers mingling at the bar just outside the hostess station; exactly the kind of clientele that I, the Chef of the Century, prefer to associate with. The kind hostess then took our coats (I was with my paramour, who has had the great fortune of being with me for 4 years now) and led us to our table. This is when our experience took a turn for the worse (and we'd only been there for 5 minutes - not a good sign). The dining area was incredibly dark, which made menu reading exceedingly difficult. The poor geriatric next to me needed the table candle to read his menu. I also couldn't take pictures of the food because of how dark it was and my phone doesn't have a flash, so I apologize for that. The area was also very cramped and tight, so much so that the woman who sat at the table next to us was forced to rub her plastic surgery-induced ass against my ear as she passed by. The aforementioned table candle's flame was extinguished every time I breathed hard, making it even more difficult to see. And the restaurant was also playing this annoying techno music, which would have been ok if it wasn't so loud. The Chef of the Century prefers to speak at normal volume when holding a conversation. He doesn't want to shout. Unacceptable.
Ambience Grade: D

Service:
Service also turned out to be one of the poorest aspects of the dining experience at Olives, as our waiter... what was his name again... oh right, HE NEVER TOLD US HIS NAME. The first thing I train my waiters to do is tell our clients their names. It fosters a more casual dining experience when your waiter is on a first name basis with you. So because he refrained from telling us his name, I decided to name him Fuck, after the amount of times I had to say, "Fuck, where the hell is our waiter!?" Fuck apparently also wasn't interested in making his restaurant any money, because after our first drink (mine was a Jack and Ginger - the Chef of the Century's beverage of choice. It was weak here.) he never offered to get us another. He also never asked us if our food was cooked properly or if we were enjoying our meal, at all. Then after our main course was done and our plates had been cleared, he proceeded to re-set our table with dinner utensils: a fork and a steak knife, then looked at me like I had 14 noses and had just insulted his wife when I asked for the dessert menu. Then he realized what an idiot he was and gave us the menus, as well as the correct utensils. I'M THE CHEF OF THE FUCKING CENTURY. TODD FUCKING ENGLISH HIMSELF SHOULD HAVE BEEN WAITING ON ME. Todd, if you're reading this, Fuck had dark, greased hair, was about 6 feet tall and was on the skinny side. Fire his ass immediately.
Service Grade: D-

Appetizers:
The bread brought to our table was delicious, and would have been better if they had only provided some butter to go with it. The only spread given was this olive pate nonsense. They should know that the Chef of the Century does not enjoy olives. GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS TODD. As a formal appetizer, the beautiful lady and I had 2 servings of their Carpetbagger Oysters. These crispy oysters were adorned with beef carpaccio and truffle mashed potatoes - magnificent. The oysters were the perfect level of crispiness, and the accoutrements added just enough to put them over the top. Some of the best oysters I've ever had. A must-order if you patronize Olives. If it wasn't for the grotesque olive spread for the bread, this would have been an A+ experience.
Appetizers Grade: A-

Main Course:
I, Gallen de Robuchon, the Chef of the Century, am an aficionado of duck. A good roast duck is a precious thing, and has become increasingly hard to come by as more and more "chefs" are coming out of the woodwork and producing duck dishes at very low standards. It's preposterous. Todd English, however, is not one of these impostors. His Long Island Roasted Duck was a wonderful piece of meat, cooked to perfection. Great texture. Even better flavor. Simply stupendous. The downfall to the dish, however, was the loads of random crap that was piled on the plate with the duck. The menu hasn't been updated online (seriously Todd?), so I can't tell you exactly what else was on the plate, but it was some sort of nut thingy with some raspberry puree stuff, and I think some ginger. All wonderfully tasting, but all getting in the way of a perfect piece of meat. Todd, my boy, let the meat speak for itself. Let the meat sing! That duck was begging to be enjoyed on it's own, perhaps with just a touch of these sides off to the side of the plate, not all over it. I give you credit for a delicious piece of meat, but I beg that you leave the duck alone. It's too delicious to be overshadowed by excess.

My lovely companion had the Lamb Porterhouse, which was accompanied by a crispy merguez samosa, za'atar parsnips, kefir cheese, and pistachio vinaigrette. Once again, the meat was perfection. Todd English's lamb was a thing of beauty, perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned, delicious. I can't use the word perfect enough to describe the lamb. But once again, Todd, you fell into the trap of putting too much on the plate. Like the duck, the lamb would have been good enough on its own (in this case actually, the lamb was less overshadowed. The samosa and the kefir cheese were off to the side as their own entity). While the parsnips and the vinaigrette were very good, I could have used less. I can't stress enough how excellent the lamb was. Let it be. As for the samosa - awful. A failed attempt at an Indian delicacy. But the samosa notwithstanding, the dinner was a resounding success if you ignored the plethora of flavor decoration and really enjoyed the duck and lamb for what they were: exquisitely cooked and flavored pieces of meat.
Main Course Grade: A

Dessert:
For dessert the lady and I shared a warm chocolate pudding cake with some ice cream/mouse/chocolate happiness all over it. It was simply delightful. Not too much to say except: Bravo, Todd's Pastry Chef. A perfect way to end the meal. They also provided delicious little carrot cake samples with the check, which was a fantastic touch and a welcome departure from the traditional after-dinner mint.
Dessert Grade: A+

In conclusion, Todd English's Olives performed poorly in some aspects, namely the ambience and the service, but delivered in the most important aspect of a restaurant experience: the food. The oysters alone were worth the price of admission (and what a price it was), but the perfection to which the lamb and duck were cooked simply left the Chef of the Century speechless, a feat not often achieved these days, and especially not here in America. But let me emphasize again to my friend Todd - Let the meat be enjoyed for what is, not what you think you should put on it. And also, recognize when a legend such as myself is in your restaurant and leave the piss-poor wait staff at home.