ALISON COOK CONFRONTS A NOSTALGIC FOOD OBSESSION.
Tasting the satiny, spunky lamb tartare now being served at Lucienne, in downtown’s chic new Hotel Alessandra, I began thinking about my decades-long obsession with the beef version of this nostalgic dining classic.
Steak tartare has been around in various forms since the turn of the 20th century, often prepared with ceremony at the tables of grand restaurants. Staff or the diner herself might mix in the requisite egg yolk, which together with a jot of mustard and maybe Worcestershire would give the mixture its distinctive, slightly creamy consistency. Minced onion contributed crunch and tart pop. Maybe there’d be parsley to chip in a dark, peppery herbal tone.
No matter how civilized the trappings of tartare, always there was the primal thrill of its rawness, that sense of the slightly forbidden. I thought myself quite daring when, in my mid-20s — spurred on by a recipe in Esquire, then the “it” mag of young American writers — I purchased my own little Italian meat grinder, the better to make my own steak tartare. (Turned out great, if I do say so myself.)
With its stable of addins, steak tartare is nothing if not flexible. The dish has kept evolving in the hands of modern chefs. I’ve chased down venison heart tartares, tuna tartares, even the madcap hamburgeresque version served locally at Star Fish, an inspiration from Los Angeles chef Ludo Lefebvre.
Lamb tartare was new to me, and chef Jose Hernandez’s rendition of it at the French-inspired Lucienne is a knockout: glossy and gorgeous with its sunny cap of quail egg yolk ready to mix in; sparkling with mustardy punch; rounder and nuttier in its meatiness than the more usual beef would be.
A silvery toast rack coils alongside, holding thin rounds of crunchy country bread to set off the tartare. It’s a festive indulgence for $18, enough for two people to split, although I could easily polish it off solo. Maybe add a glass of champagne, which is my personal pairing preference with a red meat tartare.
Want to sample the zoomy Alessandra digs without committing to an entire meal? Try to snag a counter seat at Lucienne, which has a fresh, chipper décor unlike anything else in town. Enjoy your tartare; maybe finish with Hernandez’s impeccable apple tart. (While the Frenchtrained chef is adept with a savory menu, he won his spurs as a pastry chef in such venues as Philippe.)
Maybe grab a nightcap in the adjoining Bar Bardot, with its handsome downtown views and well-made cocktails.
I’m betting Lucienne’s celebratory French menu will draw you back.