Monday: Per Se
Monday was St. Patrick's Day which means three things to us: avoid going anywhere, avoid doing anything, avoid seeing anyone. We were planning an evening of Hurricane Sandy mode, i.e. hiding in our apartment and waiting for the storm to pass, until one of us had the stroke of genius to see if the holiday meant that there’d be last minute availability at one of the city’s most decadent and notoriously difficult to get into restaurants—Per Se. Apparently that whole lucky Irish thing holds some weight because before you could say “You’re not wearing green let’s fight 'til we puke!” we found ourselves in the sparsely decorated Per Se dining room overlooking Central Park eagerly about to drop enough money to pay most people’s rent on a two person tasting menu.
Per Se is all about proportions. ANY other restaurant in the city would have crammed three times the diners into the amount of space they have to work with. The tiny portions pack a punch because each dish is masterfully balanced like a great cocktail made out of steak and vegetables. It doesn't have the outlaw vibe of Brooklyn fare or the whimsy of Eleven Madison Park, so in a way Per Se is mainstream foodie, as accessible to tourists as it is to locals. They walk a fine line between tradition and innovation landing squarely on perfection.