Last night, I took my sister to Eleven Madison Park for her birthday. It’s a restaurant that was rated the #1 best restaurant in the world this year by Restaurant Magazine , a list that actually seems to hold weight in the restaurant world. The rankings are chosen “based on a poll of international chefs, restaurateurs, gourmands and restaurant critics.” ( Wikipedia , lol). Seems pretty democratic to me, and getting the #1 ranking on anything usually means I want to check it out–be it the #1 ranked porn star or the #1 method for explaining to your girlfriend why you downloaded the Hotel Tonight app even though you didn’t leave town.

Before I start, I understand that reviewing a restaurant this expensive, of such haute cuisine, is anathema to the “common man” audience to which Barstool caters. Having said that, ever since I wrote my first blog here, I have tried my hardest to educate you simpletons on the ways of high society, higher education, and how to camouflage the highest allowable tax-free “gift” from mum and dad. If you don’t like it, you can suck the sterling silver spoon that is wedged so far up my ass that dentists use it to check my molars.

In preparing for our meal, I made sure to get a really good workout in a couple hours before. I’ve been absolutely gunning it in the gym lately–you should see me. I’m legitimately concerned about running into the ocean this summer given that my enormous mass could displace so much water that by the time it reaches the balmy shores of Thailand, what started as a ripple will have grown into a full-fledged tsunami that will black out the moon. Revelers at the monthly full-moon party will wonder, for an instant, where the moon went before a wall of water sweeps them up and tosses them willy nilly like a thousand neon highlighters swirling in a death jacuzzi. Their parents will mourn for a day or two before turning their bedrooms into home gyms and art studios.

I dressed up for the occasion because I’ve learned that women tend to give me free things when I wear nicer clothes. The moment I walked in to the restaurant, I was greeted and ushered comfortingly to a table where my older sister sat waiting. I know we’re related but I never arrive before my dining companion: it gives me the upper-hand and lets me steer the conversation towards topics I like. Within seconds of sitting down, a plate with 2 hot towels had been placed before us. I made the most of it:

Nothing like a warm towel to wipe away Frankie’s errant kisses. Dude goes HAYWIRE when I tickle his neck.

Our waiter (who was a woman, but I don’t know if it’s legal to say “waitress” anymore because Michelle Obama or whatever…) introduced herself. She was laid-back and warm, which was actually great because I was expecting a super-stiff, judgmental old French guy to stare down his nose at us all night, hmphing as we ask whether the pigeon dish was sourced from Central Park or if the restaurant had its own coop out back. As it turns out, this friendly, familiar atmosphere is exactly the tone the restaurant strives for as they “break down the walls between dining room and kitchen” (50 Best Restaurants). My sister and I much preferred the warmth of EMP’s staff to the deferential obsequiousness we found at Thomas Keller’s Per Se a couple years ago.

The thing about restaurants like Eleven Madison Park is that you don’t order a bunch of shit off a menu. Instead, they kinda surprise you with a bunch of tiny stuff. It’s a tasting menu, which means tons of bite-size dishes. I’m in the heart of bulking season right now, so the small bites felt like a step backwards after all the gains I’d made earlier that day. You do get to choose between a couple entrées though. But first, they bring out an assortment of surprises to get you warmed up. Here’s what we had:

Food #1: Savory black and white “cookies” with cheddar and apple

This was the first edible thing they brought us. These cookies weren’t sweet but they sure were delicious. Where I expected to taste chocolate and vanilla, I found cheddar and apple. At first I was sad, but I reminded myself that they know food better than I do. I inhaled mine and wanted more, but it’s a 1-cookie type place.

As I was wiping the cookie crumbs off my stupid blazer, the sommelier came over. If you don’t know what a sommelier is, I can’t believe you’re still reading this blog. She was pushing a champagne cart in front of her with a massive ice bucket that featured 5 different bottles of champagne. Given that we were celebrating a birthday, they poured us a couple glasses of delicious champagne ON THE HOUSE! Now that’s what I call service, folks! You want to get a good review? Give us a bunch of free shit.

The somme (as we with screened-in porches call them) dropped the wine list on the table with a heavy thud. This thing was 300 pages thick. You could tie it to your ankles and hop off a boat to escape tax day. Overwhelmed by the options, I told the expert to decide for us based on what we had ordered. I provided an upper price limit of $150, which felt shameful given that the average price in the book was probably more like $1500. She was nice and didn’t make fun of me, probably due to the dope outfit I was wearing.

Soon, she brought out the wine, along with what looked like the equipment you’d use to extract answers from a prisoner with a resolute sense of faith and a deep hatred for the American government. Using a fucking blowtorch, she heated some clamps and then squeezed them around the neck of the wine bottle. After a few seconds, she brushed cold water around the hot glass neck and then popped it off like the head of dandelion! Look at this sorcery!

Was any of that necessary? Probably not. But you don’t become the #1 restaurant in the world by unscrewing corks like a plebeian. PS- the wine was fantastic.

Food #2: Tower puzzle of asparagus, daikon, quail egg, and spring peas

This thing came out as a stacked tower. They then unstacked it and laid everything out across the table, revealing 4 tiny bites for each of us. The daikon with ramps and pike roe (right) was the best. Do I know what daikon is? Nope. But I have heard someone yell “look at that daikon that mechanical bull!” at Frankie’s favorite lesbian bar, the Cubby Hole. Anyway, that clear yellow chip on the asparagus is “smoked egg salad,” which… I don’t even know how that’s possible. Last I checked, you couldn’t nuke egg salad into a cellophane disc. This was one of the coolest presentations of any food item we saw.

Food #3: Cheesecake with caviar

Once again, more carts. Every cart is manned by a different member of the staff. When you see someone without a cart, you wonder what they did wrong to lose their cart. This dish was pretty good, but it was one that outkicked the limited coverage of my palate. I can’t tell good caviar from bad. Just because I’ve eaten at these restaurants doesn’t mean that I deserve to.

Food #4: Foie Gras (marinated with strawberry and black pepper)

I didn’t love this, but like the caviar, it went over my head. I don’t really care for foie gras. Do you know how it’s made? They shove a feeding tube down the throat of a duck and blast its liver with corn until it explodes. Or something like that. Then they kill the duck and spread that liver on a piece of toast or, in this case, bake it into a pastry somehow. A lot of animal activists find the process inhumane, but if you told me that this coming Sunday, a team of guys would come to my apartment and shoot liquid corn down my throat through a super soaker, I’d pack a bowl and settle in for a marathon of It’s Always Sunny. I love corn and I love being fed. Explain how this is a bad thing?

Food #5: Bread

I’m a firm believer that bread is the easiest way to judge the quality of a restaurant. They brought out these rolls and they were piping hot, tucked away in a burlap envelope like two nuggets of joy awaiting a good spanking with the butter knife. Did I mention the butter? Also made in house. Did I mention the sea salt? Probably made in the sea. But someone from in-house probably scooped up a jar of that water and then boiled it, bringing us the salt. All in all, the bread was a major winner.

Food #6: Lobster

Being that I’m from Maine, I was most excited about this dish. I’ve eaten a LOT of lobster in my life, so I finally felt like I could judge a course with an expert’s knowledge. This thing was so good that it made me hate my parents for serving me inferior lobster throughout my life. Cracking shells? Sticky hands? Forget it–I want bitesize lobster under dandelion greens with ginger and lobster reduction from now until I die. Super good.

Food #7: SNAILS ON A FUCKING GRILL

Alright, this was definitely the coolest presentation. They dropped the smallest George Foreman grill I’ve ever seen on our TABLE! Whoever runs this restaurant (executive chef Dmitri Magi) is clearly a total pyro, because our night more closely resembled a Travis Pastrana Nitro Circus event than a fancy dinner. With flames licking the grate, cart guy #7 placed a couple skewers of snails on top for a quick caramelization. We then slid the snails into these lettuce wraps, which we flavored with the various dips and sauces around the fire. According to him, the snails are fed leafy greens for a while before they switch their diet to mint for the last couple weeks of their life, for added flavor. Huh. The more you know. Also, delicious.

Food #8: ENTRÉE TIME: HONEY AND LAVENDER GLAZED DUCK

Wow. This was insane. Up to this point, I had been entertained by the presentations and impressed with the service. I had enjoyed the food, but it was all a bit too subtle for my sophomoric tastebuds. Here, finally, I had some meat, and a couple bites of it at that. The skin was super crispy, the fat rendered perfectly, the sauce sweet and savory. This is their signature dish, and I could see why. Nice job guys! Proud of you.

Following our entrées, some super handsome dude came over and introduced himself. He then asked if we wanted a tour of the kitchen, and we jumped at the chance because not everyone gets this invitation and I love doing things that other people can’t (whenever I meet someone with 1 arm, I make sure to shake their hand with both of mine clasped around it to remind them that my life is better). We followed him down a hallway and stepped into the prep station, where they add the finishing touches to the dishes. There was also a massive coffee rig that was more impressive than anything you’d find at an artisanal coffee shop. And of course, there was a guy whose only job was to make the post-dinner espressos. The biggest thing about this restaurant is that everyone has a very specific role to play, and they’re all experts at what they do. Whether you’re cooking the duck or fixing a broken cart wheel, you better be super on top of your game.

Then we stepped into the kitchen:

It was the biggest kitchen I’d ever seen. 35 cooks working in constant motion, quietly and determinedly. My sister remarked that she couldn’t believe how quiet it was, expecting the yelling and bustle that one sees on celebrity chef cooking shows. It was the most efficient operation I’d ever seen. And look at all those ducks! Donnie would have lost his mind.

While we stood watching, the pastry chef brought over a big bin of “snow,” as he called it. It was actually a lemon-ice type concoction, and he took a stick with some strawberry jelly and coated it with the snow before handing it to us as an “amuse bouche.” This was one of many delicious palate cleansers that we enjoyed during the meal. Of course, I’ve never really understood palate cleansers. As far as I can tell, the best way to clean your mouth is by brushing your teeth. But nobody offered me a toothbrush at any point.

We thanked them for the rare look inside the machine and walked back to our table, enjoying the envious stares of the other patrons who sucked so much at life that they hadn’t been invited backstage. Sorry losers! Get verified on Instagram!

Food #9: Cheese course

Obviously this looks a lot more like a cappuccino than cheese. But inside this cup were frothy goat cheese “variations” with rhubarb chutney. I don’t like goat cheese, so I didn’t love this. Another one that I would say fell outside my gastronomical purview. Oh well, can’t win them all.

Food #10: DESSERT! Black sesame shortbread and ice cream with lemon curd

First, points for the candle. They brought a candle for both my sister and me because my birthday was a couple weeks ago and I get jealous when celebrating the birthdays of others. As for the dessert itself, it was amazing. It kinda tasted like a lemony peanut butter cup, which sounds gross but it worked really well. My sister had some other ice cream situation that was also great. I’m a huge dessert guy and this was probably my 2nd favorite thing after the duck.

You probably thought I was done, right? WRONG!

Food #11: Chocolate Covered Pretzels

By this point, I was laughing. I’d had like 13 different courses, including the palate cleansers. But you know what they say: you always have room for anything else the restaurant wants to bring you! Especially if its chocolate-covered pretzels. These puppies make Flipz look like shit-covered pretzels. And don’t you just love the way they hung them like ornaments on that medieval sword-tower thing? Presentation is everything!

In the end, Eleven Madison Park is an incredible experience. From the service to the food, the soaring ceilings to the quiet murmur of conversation, the restaurant is a cathedral of excellence and hospitality. As we headed for the door, our joints creaking under the added pressure of 11 courses, a maître d’ (there were a couple) handed us a goody bag for the morning. Inside, a house made chocolate bar, a tin of granola, and the menu recapping our meal. It was a birthday celebration, after all. You don’t get to #1 without a couple party favors.