NYCReview
The staff at Aska go on foraging field trips together. They head upstate—we’re picturing a small school bus—where they scrape lichen off trees in Harriman State Park, then bring it back to their all-black warehouse in Williamsburg.
If you’ve pre-paid $298 for the tasting menu here, you’ll be seated at a round table draped in a thick black tablecloth, with a menu bound in black leather. A server, wearing black, will bring you a plate with a tuft of the lichen and a piece of trout. Carefully avoiding your black napkin, they’ll pour a tart broth over the dish—a broth that would be too salty if it weren’t so acidic, and too acidic if it weren’t too salty. As is, it’s a near-perfect substance. The lichen is crunchy. The trout is baby-soft.
photo credit: Charlie Bennet
photo credit: Noah Devereaux
photo credit: Tom Corremans
Aska first opened in 2012, during the height of the new Nordic invasion: a time when pine needles and pig's blood made frequent appearances on upscale NYC restaurant menus, thanks to the inescapable influence of Noma. All the foraging and pouring could make this place seem pretentious—and it is, a little, especially if you compare it with the looser experience at a newer spot like Ilis. There's no doubt Aska is a serious restaurant. But despite all the black, it isn't too somber.
The genuine enthusiasm of the people who work (and forage) here, lightens the mood. Your server might be describing an "esoteric" wine one minute, and then—once you ask about their tiny mustache pin—telling you just as excitedly about a recent trip to San Diego's famous 'stache bash. And though the dishes are plated with restraint, dinner here is a roller-coaster ride of delicious seafood.
You'll be seated at one of 10 tables facing the open kitchen, where the Swedish chef-owner and his troupe of fellow toque-wearers prepare for a show. A server explains that there are somewhere between 15 and 16 courses in a charmingly casual way, like they’re not totally sure, because maybe the chef gathered some scallops in Cape Cod yesterday, and is just noting down their whispered last words. In reality, the courses at Aska don't change too much—the restaurant is an expertly-oiled machine—but many of the ingredients are local and seasonal, and everything is very fresh.
photo credit: Tom Corremans
photo credit: Tom Corremans
photo credit: Tom Corremans
Settle in for a long evening, with numerous table-side preparations, and multiple cleansing towelettes, which arrive at varying temperatures and smell of geraniums. A parade of sea creatures from various bodies of water, along with some land mammals, make their way to your table. There is hake from Massachusetts, hiding under thin strips of white asparagus, tiny cubes of lobster poached in a butter made from its own head, and langoustine tail from Norway, grilled so gently it may well still be alive. Pair it all with multiple glasses of wine, poured into paper-thin stemware.
Obviously, this is not an everyday restaurant. (Unless it is, in which case we hope you enjoy lobster-head butter as often as possible.) But if it's your 12-year anniversary and you're looking to spend a lot of money, Aska is an excellent choice: a comfortably confident fine dining institution that still has a sense of wonder. Take someone who will appreciate a carefully foraged vegetable, but doesn't have a stick too far up their ass about it.
Food Rundown
Tasting Menu
Aska serves a tasting menu of 12-16 courses for $298. It changes seasonally, but only slightly. Here are a few courses that stood out during our last visit.
To Start
Your meal will begin with four small bites, one of which looks like a twig adorned with purple petals. (It’s actually seaweed, so a twig isn’t so far off.) The best bite is some raw king fish from Denmark, wrapped in seaweed and topped with caviar. It should actually be eaten in two bites, because the inside is beautiful to look at, but also because it’s so rich.
photo credit: Tom Corremans
Scallop
These live scallops from Cape Cod wriggle under their warm broth, which is spooned over them tableside. We’ve never seen a scallop so alive before. It’s thrilling to watch, and also eat.
Lobster
We never really understood foams. Why would you take a perfectly good food, and then put foam on it? But then we tried this dish: tiny cubes of tender lobster, poached in a butter made from its own shell, topped with a slightly sweet foam made from white asparagus from last spring. A perfect bite—not in spite of the foam, but because of it.
photo credit: Tom Corremans
Trout
The trout course will inspire you to forage your own lichen. Not that you should, but when was the last time you were inspired by a dish? (By the lovechild of algae and fungus, no less?)
photo credit: Tom Corremans
Langoustine
The chefs at Aska like to cook crustaceans—like this perfectly pink langoustine from Norway—in sauces made from their own shells. Don’t think too much about the cannibalistic aspects of this. Because whenever they do, it’s fantastic.
