![]() The fear and fascination it instills in us is primal, a sobering reminder of human fragility. ![]() No matter how technologically advanced our society becomes, humans will always be captivated by fire. I’ve definitely sent errant chunks of flaming banana out of the pan a couple of times like rogue fruit meteors. One order and the entire restaurant goes up in flames. Someone at the table will also invariably ask, “Have you ever burned anyone before?” (Thankfully, I have not - but I’ve definitely sent errant chunks of flaming banana out of the pan a couple of times like rogue fruit meteors, causing momentary bouts of panic and a few singed linens.) Every time a pan spiked with sugar and alcohol combusts, flambé sales go viral. But a restaurant flambé requires additional time to allow the person who orders it to overshare about the one other time they ordered a flambé at a Michelin-starred restaurant in the south of France. Today, the tableside flambé is having a renaissance in many upscale restaurants, but for a different reason: It makes great content.Ī perfectly executed Bananas Foster takes about three to four minutes to prepare. (Brennan’s in New Orleans, where Bananas Foster was invented, has been preparing the dessert continuously for decades since Chef Paul Blangé created the recipe in 1951.)Īlthough flambé cooking originated in the mid-19th century, French chef Auguste Escoffier popularized the technique when he presented Queen Victoria with cherries jubilee - cherries flambéed in kirschwasser, or cherry brandy - in 1897 to commemorate her Diamond Jubilee. The Grill’s sister restaurant, Carbone, which helped re-popularize made-to-order Caesar salads and mobile dessert carts, deserves most of the credit for hastening the revival of tableside service, at least the trendy variety. The palatial, Phillip Johnson-designed dining room screams go-big-or-go-home, and the staff is rigorously trained to ensure that you do go big and also go home with less money in your wallet than when you arrived. Scenes like this were not uncommon during the three years I worked as a captain at the Grill in midtown Manhattan - a midcentury chophouse in the former Four Seasons Restaurant space where tableside theatrics and culinary sleight of hand are calculated distractions. ![]() “Oh my God, I hate bananas,” she says, turning toward her tablemates, “but we should totally order it anyway!” They haven’t even finished their appetizers. I can already sense her plans to cast me as the lead in her TikTok video or the poster child for her “en fuego” meme. I’m tempted to lie and tell her we just sold out, but instead I explain the Bananas Foster - caramelized bananas flamed with dark rum over house-made banana-buttermilk ice cream - the restaurant’s most popular dessert. “What’s that thing with the fire?” a woman from the table behind me asks, tugging on the vents of my tuxedo jacket and gesturing toward the dessert I just finished flambéing.
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