Scott Conant’s Corsair seduces with rustic fare and flourishes of sophistication.
Short rib of beef “lasagna” with Taleggio fonduta and shaved black truffles is one of the hearty-yetrefined dishes served at Corsair.
The contoured fairways, rolling emerald greens, and lush tropical backdrop make Turnberry Isles’ Miller golf course one of the country’s prettiest. It is the 18th hole, however, that distinguishes Miller from any other: Scott Conant’s new Corsair restaurant is situated right alongside.
“Sitting down, looking out over the golf course—what a great place to be able to have brunch or afternoon cocktails,” says the affable, nationally heralded chef. The verdant vista is surely a boon to the Corsair customer, but seeing breakfast plates of poached eggs with brioche and truffled fonduta or polenta waffles with ripe berries being carried to the outdoor patio must tempt many a hungry golfer to hurry that final hole.
Conant looks at it from the opposite perspective: “Eventually I hope it will help me brush up my golf game,” he says with a laugh, perhaps realizing there will be little time for that. Not only is Corsair a three-meal establishment (“Being here sometimes at 5 am and leaving at midnight makes for a long day,” he notes), but Conant must also attend to Scarpetta in Miami Beach, as well as his multiple restaurant properties in New York and Las Vegas.
At Corsair, which debuted in December, Conant whips up American and Mediterranean farmhouse fare, and logically focuses on seasonal, locally sourced menu items. The cuisine may claim rustic roots, but it also displays an understated complexity and sophistication. “There’s a term in Italian that I always use called sprezzatura,” explains Conant, “which is the art of making the elegant look easy.” It isn’t so easy. For one thing, the food contains very little butter and no cream—“mostly olive oil, infusions, vinaigrettes, things like that.” So to achieve “a full extraction of flavor,” which is something of an obsession with Conant, intricate and labor-intensive preparations are required. For instance, he and his team braise veal cheeks in a broth extracted from dried porcini mushrooms, surround them with roasted vegetables, and top them with “a take on togarashi: crispy Parmesan cheese, herbs, and a little bit of Aleppo pepper.”
Chef Scott Conant.
Duck breasts, crisped in a pan and accompanied by chickpea panisse and pickled mustard seed reduction, are first soaked in hot, balsamic-boosted brine for three days and dried out, “so great texture and depth of flavor permeate it.” Octopus is gently simmered in olive oil “for an extended period of time” until it achieves a melting tenderness, then plated with mussels, clams, caper relish, and little spheres of sardinian fregola blackened in squid ink.
Desserts by pastry chef Michael Brock, who worked under the iconic François payard, likewise run the gamut from bucolic (brown sugar cake served home-style in a skillet) to opulent (Valrhona chocolate soufflé with coffee cardamom ice cream).
The “urbane farmhouse” theme gets visually reinforced throughout the 5,400-square-foot space by way of Meyer Davis studio design elements such as reclaimed woods, Moroccan floor tiles, rich tufted leather banquettes, an open kitchen clad in marble and subway tile, and a stylish bar featuring cocktails crafted by virtuoso mixologist Rob Floyd. “It resonates with the golfers, the guests and members, and with local people from the area who are coming in,” says Conant of the décor.
This is no small matter to the chef, who hasn’t hesitated changing menu items in response to clientele feedback. “The goal is always the same, and it’s simple: We’re just trying to make the customers happy. that’s it.”
He makes it seem so easy. 19999 W. Country Club Dr., Aventura, 786-279-6800