I was the first customer for the new Jean Georges Culinary Master Course, a one-hour session with Vongerichten himself, part of a package that includes a park-view suite in the same hotel as his namesake restaurant. (Price tag: a cool $9,000—an all-or-nothing deal.) In the chrome-clad kitchen, sparkly in the morning light, I would have been happy to do nothing but play with the toys—turning on the many stoves to see their high-rising flames, whirring all the blenders, maybe peeking into a cabinet or two while chatting with the other chefs, now easing into a lunchtime prep. The kitchen was large, as you’d expect, and more open than most. You could see all the way across the dining room to a wall that framed Central Park like a mural painted on glass. The scene was distracting, the mood mellow. We were both at ease. Before us on the counter sat a massive hunk of dark red tuna, the size of a small roast, and Jean-Georges, the master of French-Asian technique, was ready. “Shall we get started?” he said.
After making deep parallel slices across the top of the fish, as if it was a loaf of bread, he cut each slab into half-inch noodles—square noodles—and then took me over to a stove, where I watched him prepare a ginger purée with Champagne vinegar, soy sauce, and Kaffir lime syrup. He showed me how to make a chile-oil marinade, with minced Thai chiles, anchos, chipotles, and a handful of other ingredients, also to be assembled for the plate of tartare. Finally, he pulled the entire dish together with the artistry of a magician but slowly enough so that I, a mere mortal, could take in every step. “Incredible,” I said, after tasting the heavenly concoction. And I thought: “Now I can do that.”
As Jean-Georges made a vinaigrette with Banyuls vinegar, soy sauce, and lemon juice for the black sea bass, right before toasting hazelnuts, almonds, coriander seeds, and peppercorns for a crust, I thought: “Yes, I can do that.” After he carefully assembled egg yolks on toast and doused them with caviar, I thought: “I can do that.” By the time we got to the “gently smoked” squab à l’orange, I felt more like the exuberant dancer from A Chorus Line than a lucky writer.
It helped that Jean-Georges provided cheat-sheet menus and suffered through my questions. (“What if I can’t find Banyuls vinegar?” “Use Sherry,” he said.) Everything was logical, easy to understand, with one curious exception that caught me off guard. After sticking an ordinary cake tester into a piece of grilling sea bass, he extracted the pin and touched it to the area just below his lip. It was an odd sight, and I had to ask: “What are you doing?” He seemed surprised that anyone would notice: “Checking to see if it’s done,” he said. “When the tip feels warm—not hot—the fish comes out.” My curiosity must have earned some kind of instant respect. He grabbed a passing busboy and sent him off to the pantry for a new pin. It came encased in plastic, like something from the Dollar Store. I knew I would treasure it.
I left the restaurant a few tiers above cloud nine. But I wondered: “Could I really do that?” I quickly dismissed any doubts, though. I knew that even if I never cooked like Jean-Georges, I would at least be able to turn out a couple of great cook-by-numbers meals. (212-299-1000; trumpintl.com; $8,999 for two, including three nights at the Trump International Hotel & Tower, breakfast, and one dinner at Jean Georges. For the record, gourmet paid $1,000 for a test-run of the cooking session only.)
What I Learned
A secret for broiling fish: Dip the flesh side only in cream, then spices, and finally flour. Broil in a pan with the coated side up. Don’t turn.
Biggest Surprise
Jean-Georges is known for light sauces infused with oils and other ingredients from around the world. Now that I’ve seen how he does it, the word fusion no longer sounds silly.
Before You Go
Arrange your session (held only at Jean Georges) based on one of the cuisines at any of the chef’s New York restaurants: Jean Georges (French), JoJo (Italian), Vong (Japanese), Spice Market (Asian), or Perry St (New American).
Recipe
Watch a video of Jean-Georges Vongerichten making Squab à l’Orange.