Gabriel Kreuther, the eponymously named restaurant in midtown, across from Bryant Park, got a nice write-up in the current New Yorker by Adam Gopnik. I was in a few weeks ago, and what he wrote is consistent with my experience. Although not much of a neighborhood for dining, the food is worth the trip and on weeknights locals outnumber hotel guests.
Kreuther offers a prix-fixe menu of four courses with odd “bread” courses between plates, and everything is very tiny and refined, with deep, deep flavors and few and fine ingredients.
This all takes skill and focus, and it’s French, real French, Alsatian to be precise, and when served in a lively room, it’s perfect for the times. No hodgepodge, and, ironically, it’s all about the food and not the chef.
Future news? Some chefs may try this sort of thing, but it’s ill-advised. Kreuther spent years and years–not months and months–honing his craft and learning and listening and repeating in French restaurants at home and stateside.
A better bet would be to learn to cook vegetables. That’s where the money is. No kidding. The chef who figures out a way to open a number of places with delicious, well-priced veg food? That person will have the Mickey D’s of the 21st century.