A few years ago I was at a panel discussion between some of the best chefs in the world. One of the topics was the way kitchens are run and how chefs are increasingly distancing themselves from the old guard that ruled with an heavy hand and a loud throat. Gordon Ramsay became famous for it – and subsequently became a caricature of himself. The swearing is funny for five minutes, then it becomes sad.
In the TV series TheBear, in which a chef takes over his deceased brother’s sandwich shop, there is also a lot of shouting. But no matter how good the series is, the screaming gets annoying at some point. The most beautiful episodes are those where silence predominates. When people working in the kitchen get to know and appreciate others, themselves and their profession. The message seems to be that when people enjoy working, it is quiet.
I notice that silence more and more often in restaurants. Especially where there is an open kitchen, integrated into the whole. Such as at Restaurant 273 by chef Tommy den Hartog on the atmospheric Oudegracht in Utrecht.
An open kitchen also forces chefs to exercise self-control, you cannot afford to shout in front of guests – although there are of course always exceptions. I find the hustle and bustle of a kitchen where people are busy working and the ‘yes chef’ or ‘bon chef’ sounds in unison charming, but also the emphatic silence of a team that prepares the plates silently, or whispering inaudibly. I saw the latter in 273 and found that peace almost meditative.
You can see and taste the tranquility in the beautiful dishes: they are well thought out, perfectly executed and beautifully presented. Take, for example, the fresh, vegetarian ceviche with al dente pumpkin, papaya, soft avocado, crispy corn and tiger’s milk. Tiger’s milk is the citrus marinade in which the fish is cooked; in this fishless version, the sourness of the lime is tempered by the mild-sweetness of coconut milk. A lovely light dish in which you won’t miss the fish for a second. Very clever, because fish normally forms the heart of ceviche.
The tuna sashimi, draped over fresh radish with soy and wasabi, is just as convincing. A charming detail is a ‘lace’ crisp of nori as a decoration on the tuna. The sashimi is accompanied by a crispy nori filled with tuna tartare, roe and a wasabi emulsion. A well-known combination of ingredients and yet refreshingly different in its execution and presentation.
Trompette de la mort
This also applies to the deliciously creamy, warm potato with egg yolk. The vegetarian dashi based on soy, seaweed and mushrooms gives the whole a spicy earthiness and umami. The trompette de la mort – the beautiful-sounding French name for the mushroom called horn-of-plenty or death trumpet in Dutch – adds earthy nuttiness. And all this richly garnished with black truffle. Pure luxury, this French classic with a contemporary twist.
My dining companion thinks the acidity in the dashi is too strong, but I think it’s just right and spoon it away eagerly. In the meantime, he enjoys the carefully selected wines, which are enthusiastically explained by a very young and charming sommelier with a bit of blustering swagger.
Everything is correct. The dishes are a hit, the wines match perfectly and the service is super friendly. Sometimes a menu wavers, you have peaks and valleys, moments of pleasure and moments of disappointment. Composing a menu is all about good balance and monitoring the balance. This evening the high level is maintained, there are no bad courses or slip-ups: from the three beautiful amuses, including a cone with finger lime and sea bass tartare and a tomato with tom yam that awakens all the taste buds, to the main course and dessert.
My crispy fried sea bass with black garlic, chanterelles and a ketjap manis vinaigrette made in The Hague is super light and very rich at the same time. When I finally sop up the sauce with my bread, I get an extra burst of umami and the fresh ginger reveals itself and then continues to sing in my mouth for a while.
The dessert is half a chocolate ball that you have to break to make the delicious underneath, fudge of miso, vanilla ice cream and peanut, soldier. A kind of Snickers, but more refined, lighter and irresistible. I’m still unashamedly scraping the leftovers from the bowl when a friendly waiter comes to clear the table.
Restaurant 273 impresses with elegant cuisine that exudes self-confidence. What I like about Den Hartog’s dishes is that they are modern, but not artificial. His menu feels like a relaxing journey through different styles and influences; this evening Latin America, Japan and France. He combines internationally popular ingredients with local products, makes classics and manages to adapt them to his own taste. He gives it individuality, and individuality, I think, is, after good taste (the absolute basis), the most important asset for chefs. This sets you apart and gives people a reason to come especially for you.
As far as I’m concerned, Utrecht has a new star. Now let’s hope that the peace in the kitchen is preserved.