I tried Eleven Madison Park's new plant-based menu and realized I don't need meat to feel full

The restaurant, which sits alongside Manhattan's Madison Square Park, has also been recognized by the James Beard Foundation, awarded three Michelin stars in the company's guide, and was named the best restaurant by The World's 50 Best Restaurants in 2017.

Dining at the establishment did and still does cost guests $335 a person (including tip and tax) before you order a drink, which can add at least $20 to your bill.

In addition to lavender glazed duck, the old menu offered dishes with imported caviar, sea urchin, and celery root braised in pigs' bladders.

"It became very clear to me [during the pandemic] that our idea of what luxury is had to change," chef Daniel Humm told The New York Times.

In order to keep the feeling of luxe that Eleven Madison Park provides, the price had to stay the same, he told me during my meal, even though The Times reported the cost of ingredients has gone down.

Instead of that imported caviar, which Humm told me "isn't even rare or luxurious" anymore, the team is serving up tonburi. And clay pots of beats now rest where ducks used to hang in the back of the kitchen.

In the chef's note that's posted on the restaurant's website, he wrote that he approached this new menu by asking, "What are the most delicious aspects of our dishes, and how could we achieve the same level of flavor and texture without meat?"

"This decision was inspired by the challenge to get to know our ingredients more deeply, and to push ourselves creatively," he continued.

In addition to paying employees, each meal served at Eleven Madison Park helps provide meals to food-insecure New Yorkers, according to the restaurant.

I am a self-proclaimed carnivore. To me, there are few things better than a perfectly cooked steak or, very honestly, a well-timed hot dog. But that's not to say I don't eat my veggies.

I appreciate a vegetarian meal here and there, and I've been trying to cut down on my animal protein consumption over the past few years for both health and environmental reasons.

I've become more choosy about where I purchase meat and fish from. I now spend a little more money to buy from local farmers and fishermen less frequently rather than doing a bi-weekly meat haul from my grocery store where I would shop for the best deal.

First off, I wasn't sure if chef Humm was going to use imitation meats like the ones made in laboratories, or if he'd stick to things like tofu and tempeh.

The price of Humm's meal stayed the same, so I questioned whether it could possibly still be worth it.

Mostly, though, I wondered if someone eating this new plant-based menu would leave with a full belly.

I put on a dress and heels, and I even did my makeup to take myself out to dinner.

My excitement for this experience was only heightened by the fact that I hadn't dined indoors at a white-tablecloth restaurant in over a year, and COVID-19 restrictions had loosened in New York City.

To prepare for my dinner, I watched the "7 Days Out" episode on Netflix that focused on the reopening of Eleven Madison Park after its 2017 remodel. I was also careful not to read any reviews of the newer plant-based menu to ensure I went in with a blank slate and without any preconceived expectations or opinions.

In the episode, I was able to see what went into the preparation of the meat-centric menu, how the team made certain interior-design choices, and all of the training that goes into having a night of service run smoothly.

Walking into the large room, I noticed the massive piece of artwork hanging high on the wall, and the blue mohair-covered banquettes that former co-owner Will Guidara said were too scratchy before opening. (I was wearing a backless dress and only felt a tickle or two.)

A massive window let in a luxurious amount of natural light, and I thought, "Wow, it's been a while since I ate like this."

Alcohol is not included in the price of a meal, so thirsty diners have to purchase libations a la carte.

The least expensive drink was a glass of sparkling wine for $19. Seasonal cocktails with names like "melon," "sugar snap pea," and "celery" range in price from $22 to $27.

I consulted with a few of my servers and finally landed on pepper (rye whiskey, mezcal, Pedro Ximénez sherry, bell pepper, and raspberry). At $22, I expected the flavor to be different than anything I had ever tasted, with the bell pepper coming through strong since it was the name of the drink. But instead, it just tasted like an old fashioned — which isn't a bad thing.

A server placed a teacup with a bouquet of lemon verbena tied to a stick resting in it in front of me. She told me I was about to have tomato tea. I had personally never had tomato tea before, and I didn't know what to expect.

My palate was completely blown away. It had so much flavor and tasted like a fresh version of V8 juice.

The yellow tomato dosa had a shiso leaf wrapped around one end, which I was told was to be used as a grip for the sticky, wafer-like rectangle.

I took a bite of the dosa and immediately sensed something that tasted like a citrus burst of yuzu – it was labeled as a yellow tomato filling. The filled dosa was beautiful and paired well with the two dips. One was fresh, gel-like in texture, and featured cucumber that reminded me of gazpacho with a cilantro undertone, while the other was a thick, whipped, pine nut crema.

The plate of tomatoes, strawberries, and shiso was extraordinarily flavorful. I took one bite and the sweet, savory, umami-filled profile immediately transported me to a Japanese restaurant. The juxtaposition of textured strawberries and fully-skinned tomatoes was a welcome surprise.

I was given a warm, damp towel when I first sat down, but I think it would have served a better purpose after this course as my fingers were a sticky mess.

The presentation was a bit of a production. A server brought over a heavy wooden box, removed the lid, and lifted out a small white bowl.

In the bowl was a bed of julienned celtuce over what felt and tasted like congee. The soft rice was a nice contrast to the stringy lettuce variant. There was a somewhat thick, almost starchy-feeling broth that another server then poured into the bowl.

This course was plain but also flavorful, which my palate appreciated.

When the spoon arrived, I thought, "Oh, here comes the caviar course." But then I remembered that wouldn't make any sense.

So when a silver caviar bowl adorned with beaked creatures arrived at the table, I was impressed to see something that looked like caviar but was described to me as "rare seeds" handpicked and shelled in Japan.

The tonburi came surrounded by very plain green peas, and accompanied by two boats of baby lettuce and a side of frothy miso topping. The miso had a lemony flavor as well and paired nicely with the salty seeds and fresh-tasting peas.

Not so different from any time I eat quinoa or an everything bagel, I became very aware that I likely had some of the tiny seeds in my teeth.

First came fresh bread, butter that was shaped like a sunflower, and a skewered sunflower heart that was made to look and taste like a lemony-dipped artichoke heart. The bread was flaky, light, and delicious, and the brown drippy topping on the butter tasted like a combination of sunflower butter and miso. I was able to detect the flavors here, but my palate registered it as a bit on the salty side.

The cucumber course, which came after, looked like a beautiful plating of tuna tartare, except that it was completely green. The menu lists cucumber, melon, and smoked daikon as the features of this dish. To me, it looked like those three were cut into a tiny dice and layered on top of what I thought was mashed avocado.

My mouth really liked the textures here, but all I could taste was the saltiness.

The same thing happened during the marinated tofu and summer squash course. I figured this would be a good time to go to the restroom and give my taste buds a break.

Instead of having to awkwardly look around and ask where the restroom is, I was kindly escorted through the dining room, around the bar, and into the back hallway by a member of the team.

Between the smell of a candle burning, the low-volume smooth jazz playing on the speaker system, dim lighting, and individually rolled towels stacked in a pyramid, I felt like I was on vacation.

Though, I did think the exposed flush valve was an interesting choice for a restaurant that has people dining in high heels and possibly their nicer clothing. I would be lying if I said I didn't lose my balance while attempting to use my foot on the valve.

It was a DIY taco situation with a fried sweet pepper nested inside of a Swiss chard disk. There were four toppings that were served in individual mini bowls and I was instructed to choose my own adventure.

After tasting each topping individually, I took small bites of my pepper taco and got creative with flavor combinations. I thought the pickled topping offered the most in terms of flavor — it was garnished with mint, had a solid amount of spicy heat, and was perfectly briny.

I was able to taste the rich, savory sweetness that comes from a sweet pepper and the different characteristics of each of the toppings. But as soon as the next course came around, my taste buds were, once again, shot.

I love beets. Whether they're pickled, roasted, steamed, hot, cold, or made into a jam, I always appreciate the depth of flavor and complexity that it has to offer.

That's why I was disappointed when I was only able to detect saltiness. The same thing happened when I bit into a beautiful-looking eggplant and dish of corn in the next course.

It's highly unlikely that the trained chefs and cooks at Eleven Madison Park simply added too much salt or vinegar to the food they were carefully putting out. So the logical explanation here is that I was experiencing palate fatigue.

According to The Roasterie, "palate fatigue occurs when tasting a multitude of comparable products consecutively." The coffee company describes it as a sort of short-circuit phenomenon that occurs in the brain when several similar codes are sent through (in this case, from the mouth to the brain) one after another. In other words, this 11-course meal of vegetables was way too much for my brain and senses to handle.

Sure, I've eaten tasting menus before (though never exclusively plant-based), but this was the first time I was so overwhelmed to the point of not being able to taste anything beyond salt.

First, I took down a cup of coffee, which may have brought my palate back to life.

Then came a single strawberry perched on a mound of ice and topped with what looked like sugar crystals. There was a cream-like substance piped inside, which was fragrant in a floral way and took on a faux-strawberry flavor you'd get from a product that doesn't actually have any strawberries in it. It was cool and confusing to be able to get that flavor from a real strawberry.

While I appreciated the artistry that went into the blueberry and elderflower dessert, it wasn't the powerful note I was expecting the meal to end on. The top disk was icy and somewhat flavorless, and the sides were gummy like a fondant-covered cake. Some of the berries inside were also frozen in texture while mochi balls were fittingly gummy.

I was surprisingly full, and I realized that while I was trying my best to make it through the eggplant. Yes, my palate just started to register everything as salty, so I wasn't as inclined to eat every drop, but I also felt myself filling up from these plant-based ingredients.

While I knew that 11 courses of anything would likely satisfy me, I was surprised that the full feeling lasted long after I got home.

I slurped down some of the team's homemade apricot vermouth as a digestif, took my sesame and chocolate pretzel to go, and went to bed with a full belly.

So if you're wondering whether it's possible to fill up from a plant-based meal like this one, I'm here to tell you it is. The only question that remains is whether your palate can keep up.

If you're someone who is saving up bits of your paycheck for a special dinner somewhere and your palate isn't used to 11 courses of vegetables, I would say to make a reservation elsewhere. Yes, just being in the Eleven Madison Park dining room is an experience in itself, but if your taste buds can't handle it, you're likely going to be disappointed.

But if you drop around $600 for a meal for two somewhat regularly, and you're curious about the plant-based menu or have adopted a plant-based diet yourself, I think it's worth a try.