Manhattan is an interesting fine-dining town. From the 40s throughout the 70s and into the 80s, The Four Seasons and Le Pavillon set the precedent for over-the-top and stuffy, where the maître d’ was always right. Then, came gaudy places like The Quilted Giraffe. In the early 90s, French dudes like Eric Ripert took over the fine dining scene with Le Bernardin. Finally, fine dining became a little bit more hipster and casual when David Chang rose to prominence in the mid-2000s and Daniel Meyer, the Shake Shack dude, put his name to Eleven Madison Park. 

To be a customer at any of these places is incredible. These are true wine and dine experiences where you’re going to be fulfilled and get your money’s worth. And with each bite you take no matter what course it is of the over-indulgent tasting menu, you’re going to get two different flavors, two distinct points of view.

One is going to be of the artist, the overly confident exec, the overseer of the award-winning establishment. The other is of everyone else, the brigade of cooks who are actually in the trenches doing the work, or in this case his psychologically terrified and traumatized chef de cuisine.

Eric Ripert publicly talks in his memoir about the nightmares he had from his time working under, the late and great chef, Joël Robuchon. Though the terrines Ripert made were well-balanced, savory, and flavorful, there was a bit of terror in every bite. 

We are not saying one who dines at the real New York fine dining establishments mentioned above experience is going to ever relate to what the cooks and chef de cuisine go through. But what we are saying is that when you hear stories of cooks who just want sloppy and greasy no-frills Italian Beef after hunting, foraging, prepping, and finally cooking a 15-course tasting menu, there is a huge reason why. And that is because these cooks know that there was probably a whole heckuva lot more love put in the sandwich and a lot less fear.