Tocqueville Restaurant

Tocqueville is still hot, hot, hot, even though its new incarnation has been open since February. Last night, our party of four had a 9 p.m. reservation, but a table didn't open up until after 10. Fortunately, the gracious host sat us at the bar, plying us with complimentary glasses of Lafitte Rose and all the sparkling water we could drink! Although we weren't able to move to the dining room until our entrees, we certainly appreciated the hospitality. (Service was excellent throughout the night.)

We munched on gougeres while looking over the seasonal, local menu. (A veal chop in bacon-onion sauce was the special.) Our amuse-bouche was a tiny cup of rich Parmesan lentil soup.

To start, we ordered the sea urchin carbonara (my choice), Cato cheddar salad, house-cured salmon and sturgeon, and sunchoke soup. The Cato cheddar salad was a tall pile of frisee topped with a giant slice of cheddar and a few hazelnuts, served next to some halved roasted pears. A few bay scallops decorated the earthy sunchoke soup. The thinly-sliced salmon and sturgeon was my favorite appetizer - sprinkled with peppery kaiware, it was refreshing and stimulating to the appetite (which is what an appetizer should do!). I felt that my sea urchin carbonara was actually the least appealing selection. Sea urchin is a delicate creature, and in this instance it was lost in a heavy clump of eggy, creamy noodles. (Basta Pasta does a great sea urchin pasta; the pink sauce is much lighter and the urchin is served on top in a heap, rather than being mixed into the pasta and losing its texture.)

My entree was the wild salmon wrapped in Savoy cabbage. It looked like a big California roll, and arrived with a vial of "bagna cauda" (according to the server, the sauce contained tomato, onion, garlic, anchovy, butter and olive oil), tiny Beluga lentils and spicy watercress. This preparation of salmon rendered the fish perfectly moist. Other entrees were the bloody rare "60-Second Steak" with a cake of "24-Hour Shortrib" (did I detect a hint of vanilla in the little Brussels sprouts accompanying the meat?) and our favorite entree, the hibiscus-scented John Dory.

At dessert, I was again more entranced with others' selections than my own. I ordered the toasted sesame pudding, which was something of an underwater dessert. Two cubes of pudding floated atop a lonely little cookie underneath a cold, clear shiso/elderflower broth. I immediately gravitated towards my friend's thick rectangle of chocolate-graham cracker mousseline, apologizing for my indiscretion.

Tocqueville Restaurant: 15 East 15th St., (212) 647-1515.