This past Saturday was a bittersweet day in Pittsburgh culinary history as Laforêt, the pinnacle of understated elegance in Pittsburgh dining, hosted a final celebration of sumptuous cuisine before closing its doors. The celebration also marked, quite appropriately, Bastille Day—which for those who aren't up on their basic European history is the French equivalent of Independence Day. Laforêt has been my favorite restaurant ever since I first went there in high school with the Kane sisters. Why? Well, I've always been a devotee of all things fancy-schmancy, and in Pittsburgh it doesn't get more upscale than Laforêt.

Laforêt

I am also proud to credit Laforêt with converting me from vegetarianism by introducing me to the beauty of lean meats and fish done rare (Saundra and Neilbert have always preferred their meat well-done, and I never warmed up to it, hence the vegetarianism). I have often said that I would try anything that came from the Laforêt kitchen, no matter how peculiar it sounded. Though, this is not to say that I'd buy anything from Laforêt. The persistent tragic love story between me and Laforêt is that it's always been so far out of my impoverished-student/starving-writer price range that I've been at the mercy of kindly folks take me there and foot my bill. Entrées at Laforêt range from $25 to $40, and no, that doesn't include salad. This is á la carte dining, which—for the uninitiated—is a status marker of truly upscale restaurants. Soups and salads, appetizers and desserts would run you between $7 and $12. Now that's fancy-schmancy.

The Gucci knock-off I took to Laforêt

And so, last Saturday night, Laforêt was the place to see and been seen in Pittsburgh high society—at least, I'm presuming so, as I myself more properly belong to Pittsburgh "middle society," and thus recognized no one and likely went unrecognized in return (and hopefully my fake Gucci purse went unrecognized as a knock-off). So, how did starving writer me manage a final supper at Laforêt? Well, I was exorbitantly lucky to get an invitation from Professor G. For years, we have shared a mutual love of Laforêt and yet due to the tempestuous nature of everyday life had never before managed to eat there together. And so, Professor G seized upon this one last chance, and I was giddily willing to oblige. For their final evening, Laforêt was offering only a special tasting menu—populated by their favorite dishes from over the years—and only two seating times. Professor G opted for the 5:30 seating, requesting his favorite table serviced by his favorite waiter—yes, ladies and gentlemen, Professor G is that kind of classy.

The view from our table at Laforêt

We started the evening with a round of Tanqueray martinis, Professor G's with an olive and mine with a twist, while we considered the options on the tasting menu, and subsequently the wine list. As I have been to Laforêt a few times recently and am generally familiar with their offerings, my selection among the options for each course was hampered only by the regret of having to choose just one. Professor G then solicited my input on the wine, and I attempted to oblige, but while I'm not a total dunce when it comes to fine wines, my powers of discernment are basically limited to the grape. I have opinions on cabernet vs. pinot noir, on chardonnay vs. sauvignon blanc, but Professor G was recommending French wines (and quite logically so considering the occasion), which self-distinguish based on regions and wineries rather than grapes. I informed Professor G that I could not in good faith express a preference for one chardonnay-based wine over the other, so he selected a Chablis. It was dry, but not too aridly so, and crisp, and formed the perfect complement to our first few courses; it was also opened at our table in a perfect wine service by none other than Robert Uricchio—partner in cuisine to his brother Michael, who is both owner and chef at Laforêt. Also before our meal, we whetted our appetites on the evening's canapés, salmon cream on mini-toasts and tiny carrot muffins with a dollop of citrus cream. Delicious.

Bastille Day confetti on our table at Laforêt

For the first course, Professor G selected the lobster, crab and risotto cake, while I could not resist the seared tuna with sesame ginger sauce. We swapped samples on each course, so I can say with confidence that the lobster and crab cake was delicate and succulent. This is like no seafood cake you've ever had before. My tuna was perhaps more predictably delicious, and the sauce was intriguing—Professor G detected a note of maple. I also violated my newly-declared low carb resolution (more on that in a future blog) in order to have one of the dinner rolls. Laforêt, not surprisingly, does even bread superbly. It's always fresh, warm and crusty, served with whipped butter. I couldn't resist. For our second course, I was disappointed to see that they did not offer a soup option, but rather two different salads. I have come to love Laforêt soups over the years, having immensely enjoyed both their lobster bisque and their butternut squash cream. But alas, no soups and so I got the heirloom tomato salad, swayed by the chevre buttermilk herb dressing—"chevre" is French for goat cheese, but the way, and I simply adore goat cheese. Professor G selected the Salad Paysanne, a Laforêt staple for so many years that I first tried it years ago on my premier visit during high school. It should go without saying that Laforêt serves perfect salads with delicate, fresh greens and nothing even remotely resembling iceberg lettuce. The Salad Paysanne is a delightful mix of greens, bacon, Roquefort and walnuts. The chevre buttermilk dressing on my heirloom tomato salad was more exquisite than I could have guessed. To give you an idea, let me break out an analogy: filet mignon is to ground chuck as Laforêt's chevre buttermilk herb dressing is to ranch. I can't really say I tasted much of the chevre though. The tomatoes were just as unexpectedly delicious—not that I imagined anything at Laforêt would be un-delicious. It's Laforêt after all. But I suppose I expected tomatoes to taste like tomatoes, right? Let's just say I hope that the heirloom tomato seedlings in my garden turn out to be half as flavorful.

The cork from our Chablis

Third course was the fish course, and in true Laforêt style, they re-set the table with fresh flatware after every course, and this time it was fish fork and fish knife—which I probably wouldn't have recognized as such if Professor G hadn't invited me over to his Highland Park abode for tuna steaks a month earlier. Why does fish need a differently shaped fork and knife? You got me, but it's fancy-schmancy, so don't argue! For the fish course, both Professor G and I ordered the sea bass. I've been meaning to try sea bass for quite some time, and it's only fitting to try something new at Laforêt. While I can't say it's my favorite fish of all time (sorry, sea bass, tuna still takes the cake), it was quite lovely, soft flavors and texture. For those who—as I was Saturday afternoon—are uninitiated in the wonders of sea bass, it's a white fish that's not as firm as salmon or tilapia, but still not light and flaky like haddock (blech... okay, so maybe I just haven't had it done right. Has there ever been haddock at Laforêt?). Henceforward I will eat more sea bass and Laforêt's offering will be the standard by which all future sea bass is judged. Next was a brief intermezzo course of grapefruit ice in anticipation of our fourth course—the meat course.

Our Côte du Rhône decanted, in proper red wine fashion

Even after martinis and a bottle of white wine, Professor G and I were feeling ambitious and so ordered a bottle of red wine. It was, again, a French selection, a Côte du Rhône; Professor G explained that the primary grape is syrah, which you may recognize by its more popular Australian-ized name, shiraz. It was a medium-bodied, very complex wine—if I was better-versed in wine properties, and hadn't been already one martini and bottle of white away from sobriety, I could describe it better. Suffice to say, it was excellent and complemented both the meat course and dessert splendidly. For my meat course, I got the maple duck breast, which was melt-on-your-tongue tender and a good balance of sweet and savory—I'm quite a fan of maple syrup (the real kind, not Aunt Jemima), and this may be the last maple I taste for some time now that I'm low carb. I selected the duck based on a number of factors: 1) I had duck for the first time at Laforêt, and so it only seemed appropriate; 2) duck as a meat is difficult to come by at other restaurants, especially restaurants that I can actually afford; 3) I'd had the Elysian Fields Lamb when I went to Laforêt in January for Saundra's birthday, so despite lamb being just as tough to find, I opted for the duck. While I do not regret my decision, I must say, after trying a bite of Professor G's rare beef filet, I was a tad envious. It was clearly the superior dish. But I stand by my decision—good steak is theoretically much easier to come by than good duck.

My empty chair after dinner

Nearing the end of our evening, and our second bottle of wine, we were served our final course. I choose the dessert sampler and Professor G got the cheese plate. He offered me a taste of the chevre, knowing my affinity for goat cheese. It was surprisingly heartier that most chevre I'm used to. By this time in the evening I was getting both full and mighty spiffed, and so did not clean my dessert plate, but I tried a good sampling of each offering. Perhaps if I had retained more of my sobriety, I could say with confidence exactly what was included on the plate, but as far as I could tell there was something in the genre of a lemon tart, something apple pie-esque, something along the lines of a white fluffy mousse, and something chocolate and fudge-y. All were yummy. Be warned folks, this is what happens when you try to review restaurants drunk (not that I will be dissuaded from such practices in the future).

Casablanca

We topped it all off with decaf espressos (though I probably should have had a caffeinated espresso) and enjoyed a selection of cookies all of which I barely remember, save for their overall deliciousness. After taking a bunch of pictures, overstaying our 5:30 seating into the 9:00 and bidding an almost-teary farewell to Laforêt (I like to think it would have been teary if not for the post-wine dehydration), we retired to Professor's G's house for a screening of Casablanca, an appropriately Bastille Day film, where I rudely but uncontrollably nodded off somewhere between the "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow..." scene and the very end. Luckily, Professor G forgave me and we clinked our Waterford whisky glasses one last time in salute to Laforêt.