The onslaught of intensity works, thanks to choices the restaurant makes in portioning (not overlarge) and service (not over-rushed), which gives the palate a bit of time to regroup between happy sighs. In this respect, Chateau Royale is evocative of Libertine, Pruitt’s other restaurant, a sexy, cream-worshipping West Village bistro where I’ve often felt that diners ought to receive a complimentary handful of Lactaid pills along with the bread and butter. As at Libertine, Chateau Royale offers virtually no detours from the richness, even when you might think you’re ordering something light. An endive salad, for example, is tossed in a decadent anchovy dressing, and further enriched with a snowfall of shaved Mimolette cheese. The sauce for the duck a l’orange, bright with bergamot and calamansi, is sticky and glossy. A scallop crudo gets swaddled in plush, thanks to a sauce grenobloise, made of brown butter with capers, funked up a bit with miso, and thick as peanut butter.