By Tom Sietsema
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, Oct. 18, 2009

Part of the pleasure of introducing this sleek restaurant to first-timers is watching their jaws drop as they cross a koi-filled pond and stroll into a dining room with 25-foot ceilings topping walls of glass. It takes a masterful chef to compete with a lakeside view and an original Rodin, and 2941 stocks one in its gleaming kitchen. Bertrand Chemel sent out one of the most exquisite dishes I've encountered all year: a sheer dumpling stuffed with pureed langoustine and foie gras, topped with shaved summer truffles and circled with a clear-but-spicy lobster consomme -- a single-bite, four-star salve for our having waited and waited for menus to be passed out. Much of what came afterward approached the same level of artistry. Autumn (and India) unfolded in every spoonful of the French native's ginger-scented butternut squash veloute, enriched with coconut milk and set off with a fan of crisp apple and apple compote. A thin crust of chorizo added heft and heat to steamed Japanese mero poised on squid ink risotto. Luscious little touches distinguish each plate, be they the golden squares of mashed potato supporting caviar-paved snapper or the ribbons of hearts of palm and clove jus nudging lamb loin to greatness. Pastry chef Anthony Chavez dazzles diners right to the finish with clever takes on familiar subjects. A downsized floating island, breezy with lemon, is lighter still for its wafer-thin cookie made with fennel pollen. Kudos, too, to the sommelier for pointing out a bottle of wine that was less expensive than, but just as worthwhile as, the ones this bargain-hunter was mulling.

Fixed-price dinner per person: four-course menu $58, six-course tasting menu $95

Cautiously Classic
At 2941, a well-known chef is reluctant to push the taste envelope

By Tom Sietsema
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, March 30, 2008

Why would a highly lauded chef leave a lofty address in Manhattan to cook in an office building in the Washington suburbs?

Three months into his new gig at 2941 in Falls Church, Bertrand Chemel has perfected his response to a question he must hear a lot. "I've always worked under someone," says the chef, who garnered a three-star kiss from the New York Times for his food at Cafe Boulud. After seven years of working for a celebrity boss, chef Daniel Boulud, Chemel says it was time to strike out on his own. Any skepticism he may have harbored about his new environs seems to have evaporated. Contrary to Chemel's initial thinking, diners in the nation's capital aren't all steak-and-potatoes types. On weekends, he says, upwards of 30 percent of his customers splurge on 2941's $115 tasting menu.

Plus, the French native's new home is "so big!" he exudes, casting an arm out to emphasize how large his kitchen is compared with where he used to cook. Those of us who have accepted a server's invitation to take a backstage tour after a recent dinner nod in understanding. Four thousand square feet of space, including an exclusive chef's table, is a lot of kitchen.

In one of the more intriguing transitions on the local restaurant scene, Chemel follows another big talent from New York, Scott Bryan of Veritas, who as a "guest chef" held 2941 together for three months when the restaurant's original hire, Jonathan Krinn, left abruptly after five years to explore opening his own place last fall. Krinn's departure was mourned by some, but as a patron who admired his early work at 2941, I can tell you his output was less than sterling in his last year or so.

So the recent change, which took a lot of food lovers by surprise, is cause for hope and reason to return for another taste.

Chemel's menu reveals its charms slowly. With some notable exceptions, it reads like an old-school French bill of fare, studded with foie gras terrine, fish with noble sauces, a "cote de bouef" for two. Dishes such as chicken on savoy cabbage and veal on a puree of fennel sound like conservative choices, not nearly as ambitious as what the chef did in New York with a four-part menu that offered traditional, seasonal, vegetarian and global selections. As you're reading the possibilities at 2941, the amuse-bouches are brought out. The snacks from the kitchen -- arancini that crack open to reveal molten cores of fontina cheese, a morsel of lobster dressed up with a bit of apple and ginger -- wake the appetite and set a diner up for good things to come.

And they do, in their own understated fashion. Chemel, 32, prefers to let the food do most of the talking. Bizarre flavor combinations and food coaxed into difficult positions are not his style; easily identifiable ingredients and classic treatments, lightened for a contemporary audience, are more his hallmarks.

So go ahead and get the squab. Wrapped in caramelized bacon and served with a wine sauce enriched with duck confit, chicken liver and squab jus, it is one of the best little birds I've come across, here or abroad. Cauliflower soup gives the un-glamorous vegetable fresh depth, and its makeover includes juicy langoustine and a dusting of black truffles. (Chemel adores the fungi, which were in season and over-used, during my late winter visits.) On the lighter side is kampachi, six perfect slices of sushi-grade fish tricked out with an emulsion of grapefruit and orange for sweetness and a bit of jalapeno for kicks. Accents of caviar and black sea salt add spark -- and sparkle -- to the first course.

The chef demonstrates an Italian prowess with a couple of pastas, both available as appetizers or entrees, that make me question his ethnic origin. Gnocchi manage the neat trick of tasting deeply of potatoes while almost floating off their plate -- they're that ethereal. And they're gilded with a Parmesan sauce that is both rich and delicate. Risotto could be mistaken for something you'd find in Milan, save perhaps for the thread-thin micro-chives garnishing the surface of the luscious dish, which is tinted with saffron and beefed up with tender veal cheeks that benefit from an orange reduction.

Alas, those and other hearty wonders may be gone by now; the chef changes menus more often than Hillary Clinton changes campaign slogans.

Is Chemel playing it safe? It can appear that way. His Berkshire pork with root vegetables makes more of a food shopping statement than a cooking statement. The main course is good, but it's almost too subtle. Otherwise exquisite Dover sole gets a Normandy sauce that bears little resemblance to the traditional fish and mushroom fumet.

Then I try something such as his swordfish, and I start seeing more stars. Chemel tames the normally tough fish by slow baking; the swordfish is then presented as small ivory bars aligned, just so, over a velvety swirl of bell peppers flavored with smoky chorizo oil. Skin-on fingerling potatoes lend a little crunch, while garlic and vinegar add exciting punch, to the near-stew of vegetables. The chef's beef shoulder braised in veal stock and white wine is a classic comfort on its own, but it is divine in the company of seared foie gras and artfully turned carrots and potatoes. It's a turf and turf combo for the memory book.

Wearing two toques, Chemel is also the pastry chef. His desserts are simple, elegant and sometimes presented with a playful gesture, as when a scoop of salted caramel ice cream shows up in a wine tumbler garnished with a thin cracker made of Rice Krispies, over which a waiter pours a warm chocolate sauce. Who could resist? Apple tart Tatin is a routine round, but cheesecake with the texture of mousse, hovering over a refreshing citrus salad, is far from it. And the pretty, coin-size petits fours that conclude dinner do not last long on their plate. The beignets are especially tempting.

Stumbles are infrequent, but they include service that can feel rushed (oh, and why are we pouring refills of our own wine?) and an occasional underwhelming performance from the kitchen. Sweetbreads coated in rice and corn starch and tossed with a sauce of shallots, rice vinegar and palm sugar sounds great in theory. But it's achingly sweet in reality, so cloying you couldn't tell the centers were sweetbreads. Aside from its herbed salad, the entree was a ringer for General Tso's chicken.

Krinn, the original chef, raised the bar for bread baskets when he recruited his father to bake bread in a spectrum of flavors, giving away the extra loaves to departing diners. The practice -- good bread, gratis bread -- continues in the new order. So does a distinguished wine program. Spanning almost 60 pages, the wine list is as long as a book. The terrific read is fueled by fabulous options by the glass and half-bottle; heft (but not obvious heft) from all the right places, including Bordeaux, Burgundy and Napa Valley; and plenty of seldom-seen choices, such as Condrieu, which is the pride of Cotes du Rhone, and Feldon Road pinot from New Zealand.

The restaurant looks much the same as it always has, and thank goodness for that. 2941 is one of the area's most beautiful places to dine. The pulse quickens the moment you get off the highway and drive up the winding entrance. Tall trees give way to soaring glass walls, illuminated with honeyed light from within. A pool stocked with orange fish flanks the entrance, and a lake with a fountain serves as a backdrop. Downtown Washington is both 15 minutes, and a world, away.

Chemel's cooking is a marvel of restraint and focus. But something tells me his best is yet to come.