Hey look, there goes the eyeball!

Or: What we ate on our summer vacation (for our first anniversary!) at Blue Hill Farm.

Or: How can we justify going out to a dinner so fancy that it costs four times what we'd normally consider extravagant.

We decided to go to Blue Hill at Stone Barns for our first anniversary, after Gwen read about it on a blog that made it sound incredible. We didn't have time for a huge long vacation, but this sounded like a trip in the spirit of "let's do something really nice to celebrate" that was reasonably close by (about a four-hour drive from Ithaca). We used the OpenTable online system to make our reservation. Reservations open two months in advance and often fill up within a day.

Blue Hill is situated in the posh suburban town of Tarrytown, NY, near the Hudson River. The Blue HIll folks have built what's probably the fanciest and most luxurious farm in all of existence. They offer some educational programming, like a camp and classes, in addition to the working farm that produces raw material for the super-upscale restaurant. Blue Hill owns a dairy farm (19 cows!) in the Berkshires that supplies the restaurant, ant it also draws from other farms in NY State. They aren't kidding about keeping it local, either; they contract with a distillery to make their own spirits and a brewery to build beers of their own design using grains they've carefully selected and hops from the farm.

One caveat: We are not foodies, unless watching Top Chef and reading the occasional recipe blog counts. We undertook this trip with the expectation that it would be a rare event for us; it's a splurge, and a nice anniversary gift to ourselves.
When you first arrive at Blue Hill Farm, you drive through "the loop" that takes you past scores of chickens -- four score and seven chickens, our forechickens brought forth a nation of chickens -- and many adorable little black pigs, all of which are destined to become lardo very shortly. You park and walk into a complex of stone buildings and an elegant courtyard lined with lanterns, which were lit with candles as it got dark.

You're seated in a fairly large dining room with exposed wood. Jackets and ties are required. A table in the center displays many of the raw materials of the dinner -- in our case, whole tomatoes, tiny grapes, lots of produce. (No fish heads! = foreshadowing...)

We sat down at a table in the corner, and immediately, the staff came over to talk about the meal. The waitpeople are really a constant presence during the entire meal; they aren't hovering, exactly, but you get the sense that they are watching and pacing you very deliberately. They lay out fresh silverware for every course (and make sure it's straight and precise. if you try to rearrange it, they'll put it back in the place it belongs, because they have a very clear sense of where they want to put the plates), and if you leave the table and leave your napkin on your chair, they refold it. They explained every course as it was coming out and answered questions in great detail. We were served by a whole team of people, none of whom is really "the waiter" -- they were sort of all yours, and the service was flawless.

Several of the courses were served on a central slate slab for sharing, and the slab is warmed or cooled in accordance with the food on it. We had an eight-course meal -- a "tasting menu," which means the chef decides what you will eat, and our waiter introduced it by saying "you are placed in the hands of the chef." It took about four hours, and the waiter asked us questions before he started, like "do you have any dietary restrictions?" (no nuts); "are you willing to eat raw fish?" (yes); "are you willing to eat an entire fish head?" (yes; Gwen starts to quail); "are you willing to eat organ meats?" (yes; Gwen swallows hard). At dessert time, we were offered to change to a different table on a candlelit patio, which was beautiful (though we think this was partly so the staff can clear out the dining room for the second seating of the evening.)

At long last, here is what we ate:

1) Vegetables on spikes.
Iced tomato water gazpacho (this had shock value; it was served in a tiny little shot glass, probably only about four tablespoons, but it was amazing, sparkly and strong).
Breaded flash sauteed green beans.
Mini squash with prosciutto and sesame on a stick.
Mini tomato burgers (these were ridiculously fantastic [G's words] and for flavor per ounce, it was the best thing we had all evening [J's words], a little bigger than the size of a quarter, meant to be eaten in one bite, served on a bed of sesame seeds in an enormous martini glass).
Single slice of baloney and of salami made in the restaurant's own charcuterie.
(A lot of these little appetizers were the best things we ate all night and really stand out in our memory.)

2) Heirloom tomato nicoise with green beans and bluefish and vinegared mustard sauce; little bit of yellow squash.

3) Crock of warm ricotta, sauteed chard remoulade, cracked black pepper, bread made of fife (this was in the running for Gwen's favorite).

4) Slow-grilled half red onion, with tiny pots of creamed chicken liver (chicken liver butter?), grilled peaches, beet compote.

5) Head of Maine cod (We can't recall how this was cooked - all we remember was that it started with "b" -- braised, blasted, bombarded, basted, bonked? most probably blanched) "The meat is in the cheeks," the waiter said, and showed us how to slide the skin off with a spoon.
Jared dissected the fish thoroughly for about 15 minutes, using chopsticks and a long slender spoon. As he was poking around to extract more meat, he -- there's no delicate way to say this -- poked underneath the eyeball, which lifted it out, prompting him to say cheerfully, "look, there goes the eyeball!" The woman at the next table was staring aghast. Gwen watched the eyeball roll to the very edge of the slate. As Jared probed the head for more meat, it trembled ever closer. Would it would fall off and roll around the table like a renegade marble? This was the DRAMA portion of the evening! It was an evening at the ballet: color, motion... and here was the suspense of the fate of the eyeball! All eyes, including the fish's, were on the eyeball!
The fish was served with a vinegar tomato salad with bit of watermelon.
(This course was in the running for Jared's favorite, more because it was memorable than anything else.)

6) Egg yolk carbonara. (This might be both Jared's and Gwen's favorite.)
Julienned yellow and green squash, tiny bit of bacon, parmesan cheese.
Served with fresh onion bread - up until just before the eighth course, a waiter making the rounds would serve you more bread from a cutting board on his outstretched arm.
Bread was served with lardo, fresh Blue Hill Farm butter, and tomato salt and spinach salt.

7) Ostrich egg pasta with tomato confit mixed in.

8) Beef plate - tongue (and heart??) and loin (and some other cut?)
Smear of tomato and roasted red pepper gelee along the side of the plate.

Drinks
Shiso and watermelon cocktail - made with Blue Hill gin.
Red wheat beer - Blue Hill recipe, brewed in Rockland county.

Dessert
1) Wheatberry pudding with poached apricot and vanilla bean ice cream (we agree this was the best dessert)
2) Sacher torte with strawberry and "milk jam" (a sort of spreadable custard)
3) Tiny grapes and seasonal fruit (berries) and two tiny chocolate cookies. (The partially dehydrated peach slices were a novel treat!)

Although it's obviously a large meal, not one of the courses itself was large; usually only three or four bites total. Nothing was heavy; until the ostrich egg pasta, which was really rich and chewy, we didn't really feel full. Except for the last course (Gwen couldn't quite manage to eat all of her beef), both of us cleaned our plates every time, and we didn't leave stuffed.

So: Was it worth the money? When we think of it not merely as a meal, but as a full evening's high-end entertainment -- for instance, for similar cost we could have had an evening in New York seeing a Broadway show and having a decent dinner -- we concluded that yes, it's easily the equivalent. It's an experience of looking at food differently, of being presented with food that looks beautiful in ways you can't imagine beforehand. The setting is beautiful and relaxing, carefully lit, with great care put into every aspect of the meal. You could tell that there was a keen and discerning and cultured intelligence at work behind the experience. The food had a style that belongs to Blue Hill alone. As far as we know, this meal cannot be had anywhere else. Also it was just kind of fun and playful and you felt a lot of curiosity about everything. And immensely enjoyable. And awesome.