Spotlight: New York's Fleur de Sel

The hullabaloo over star chefs and concept restaurants becomes irrelevant when considering the merits of Fleur de Sel. Unpretentious, even plain, this new French restaurant, named for the pungent crystals of sea salt farmed in Brittany's salt marshes, has an elegant, Old World-like charm. The service is impeccable, the food sophisticated and delicious.

Fleur de Sel's Brittany-born chef-owner Cyril Renaud has set up shop in a section of the Flatiron district otherwise given over to dot-com trendiness and restaurants with flashy decor. A few rustic oil paintings decorate Fleur de Sel's rectangular room, which has a brick wall on one side and a small bar on the other. Dinner is $52 prix fixe -- fair indeed given the far more outrageous prices of "treat yourself" meals in many Manhattan eateries.

Jigsaw-puzzle lobster, hide-and-seek truffles

The half dozen appetizers are straightforward but presented with flair. The surprises in the seared foie gras, for instance, are dried-fruit puree and rose water, which add a delicate, floral flavor. The beautifully bright lobster salad is made up of bite-size pieces reassembled on the plate like a jigsaw puzzle. The smattering of greens that garnish the lobster is tossed with a seemingly incongruous lemongrass-and-vanilla vinaigrette. Peculiar, but it works.

The arctic char appetizer, which resembles a pink-and-white textile design, has the same basic-but-bizarre quality. Char is best described as a gamier, saltier version of smoked salmon. It comes with thin shavings of cucumber and a yogurt emulsion, a plain-Jane medley that blends smartly with the char's smart flavors.

Renaud likes to introduce a few oddball flavors, though he never goes too far. Of all the appetizers, the parsnip soup, with ravioli stuffed with chestnuts and white truffle, impresses the most. How reckless to drown the white truffle in soup! Then again, maybe that's the idea: most people will do anything to get to that truffle. (The French writer Colette vowed: "If I can't have too many truffles, I'll do without truffles.")

Sage cuisine

The roasted scallops come perfectly cooked, meaning barely cooked, to preserve the freshness and texture of the actual scallops. The sensational honey-and-sherry gastric (sauce) in which the scallops are doused adds a little kick, and a hint of sweetness. The surprise ingredient is sage. Intense shreds are mixed into the sauce, elevating the dish from merely first-rate to unusual and exciting.

Lamb loin, sliced and marinated with Dijon mustard, is served with fresh thyme and garnished with kamut, a nutty high-protein grain. The mustard intensifies and boosts, but doesn't overwhelm, the flavor of the lamb, and the contrast in texture of the lamb and kamut gives the dish some muscle.

Other dishes seem equally appealing. A diner at a nearby table ordered a shiny cut of pigeon that smelled so good I almost wanted to trade in my scallops. There's also Icelandic cod with wild mushrooms, striped bass in a Scotch lobster sauce, sautéed venison with beet-licorice sauce, and crispy chicken with foie gras and Armagnac sauce. The preparations are typically French -- technique and presentation are crucial, and the sauce rules -- though not necessarily regional, as one might expect from a restaurant named after sea salt. Don't be alarmed, though -- the food is surprisingly light.

The house of mirth

The desserts are equally inventive. The chocolate-tart soufflé is a strikingly handsome disk of creamy, hot-fudgelike chocolate. Though the chocolate tart is riveting, I prefer the quirkier pear tartare -- diced fruit squeezed together in the shape of an ottoman. Poached in cassis, and studded with shredded pistachio nuts, the pear has a splendidly astringent, tart-sweet flavor that is cut by the intensely sweet crème fraîche that comes with it. Unfortunately, the pear tartare is no longer on the menu. Its replacement is a confit of rhubarb with yogurt mousse and fresh thyme. But why not ask for the pear tartare and see what happens? Everyone at Fleur de Sel is so gracious; perhaps the pastry chef will make it for you if you ask.

Equally light, and refreshing, is the raspberry feuilleté -- fruit sandwiched inside a crispy, papery wafer and topped with an oval scoop of white chocolate caramel ganache. The apple crêpe, succulent and crisp, is enough for a meal.

If you're in the mood for a subtle, thoughtfully prepared meal, and a little fuss-free satisfaction, head over to the Flatiron district and enjoy a quiet evening at Fleur de Sel.

Fleur de Sel. 5 East 20th St., between 5th Avenue and Broadway, 212/460-9100. Reservations essential. AE, V, MC.


Photo Credit: Erin Nedell