Palme d'Or

In the monument to bygone opulence that is the Biltmore Hotel, this low-lit, country-clubby haven of prestige pampers at every turn. The much-ballyhooed bread service and cheese cart, amuses bouches and gourmandises bookend a feast offered in four, six or eight courses by the highly pedigreed chef, whose menus are a study in extravagance. But to the groundswell of edible objets d’art in which foie gras, truffles, langoustines and Kobe beef luxuriate amid foams and dots and sprigs, there’s a charmingly rustic undercurrent: lobster reimagined as cassoulet with duck-gizzard confit here, suckling pig with mustard greens and black garlic there. Meanwhile, service flows like the trophy wines dominating Palme d’Or’s 250-bottle list all the way to the bar, where a weekend pianist sets the mood for one final indulgence in the form of a nightcap.