African

It's not dinner at the zoo. It's dinner in Hell's Kitchen.

329 W. 51st St., between Eighth and Ninth Aves., (212) 315-3315
Sun.-Wed., 5 p.m.-1a.m.; Thu.-Sat., 5 p.m.-3 a.m.
Cuisine: African barbecue
Vibe: Funky Hell's Kitchen spot.
Occasion: Casual date, group dinner.
Don't Miss Dish: Venison sosoties & chicken bobotie.
Average Price: Appetizers, $12; entrees, $23; dessert, $8.
Reservations: Recommended

Do you ever read the menu online before you go to a restaurant? It's a bad idea, at least at Braai.

I skipped lunch and all of my mid-afternoon snacks because I planned to take down a barbecued ostrich that evening.
 
And what did I get? I got one dainty skewer of overcooked ostrich, domestically raised. I didn't want domestically raised. I had my heart set on ostrich right off the veldt.

And where's the antelope? I came for antelope. There was talk of zebra in the papers, too. But the only black-and-white- striped object at Braai is a zebrawood table in the brandy room. So it's not dinner at the zoo ... it's in Hell's Kitchen.

Braai looks like an African date-hut - mood lighting, rose petals scattered on the tables, a reed canopy overheard and lots of dripping candles. There's also a lady at the bar getting her face painted. Turns out she's the hostess. Did I mention the music? Way too much music.

Here's a rule for restaurants: Live music means you're trying to hide the food. It's like the strolling violinist or the mariachi band. Please, just stroll away.

The best thing about Braai may be the wine list. It's exclusively South African. I especially liked the FMC Chenin Blanc 2005 - a crisp, complex white wine with hints of honey and vanilla. It's not cheap. A half bottle is $55, worth the splurge. So is the Neil Ellis Cabernet Sauvignon 2003. You can also try a cocktail made with African rum or one of the house-infused brandies, a welcome by-product of the African surplus of grapes.

Okay, let's talk about the barbecue. If you order meat, insist on medium rare. No more. Otherwise, it will taste like beef jerky, or the game version called biltong in South Africa.

If you want venison, order the appetizer. It's marinated in rooibos syrup and speared with dried apricots, green peppers and onions.

Lamb? Order the mutton-wors - lamb sausage served over a warm yogurt-guava sauce.

One reason to visit this restaurant is to learn a whole new culinary vocabulary. I know my sosoties, but not my bobotie. Sosoties are skewers of marinated meat. Bobotie is the offspring of meatloaf and shepherd's pie.

I had the chicken bobotie. It reminded me of gastropub grub. It was full of raisins, shredded carrots, and chutney. And there was an egg on top. Also worth ordering - the prawns peri-peri and the boerewors (beef & pork sausage), but just for the side of white corn "polenta" with tomato gravy on top.

And don't miss the malva pudding - the African version of banana pudding, with caramelized bananas, vanilla ice cream and custard made from an African liqueur called Amarula.

It's not easy to pull off Afrikaans barbecue in Hell's Kitchen. Clearly, they're adapting a South African tradition for American tastes - and American meats. And in the kitchen, the chef - Armando Martinez - is native American. The menu may sound like fusion, but it's no more complicated than the fusion involved in real South African barbecue.

Just imagine - Malaysian, Indian, Afrikaans and wild game. Minus the antelope and zebra.

A modest Brooklyn restaurant unleashes exotic African spices.
126 Union St., near Columbia St. Phone: (718) 855-4405
Dinner: Weds., Thurs., Sun., 5-10 p.m.;
Fri. and Sat., 5.-11 p.m.

Some restaurants lack soul. Not Korhogo 126. You can taste the soul of its owners on nearly every plate. This French West African eatery marries the culinary heritages of Parisian-born Emmanuelle Chiche and chef Abdhul Traore, who made his New York City debut at Les Enfants Terribles on the lower East Side. Traore hails from Korhogo, a small town in the Ivory Coast that's become this prideful new restaurant's namesake.

The chef injects a rush of seasonings and flavors from his homeland into French bistro staples. This translates to a menu where African classics, like grilled prawns in a pili pili (chili pepper) sauce appear alongside steak frites. But here the steak frites gets an aggressively spiced marinade of thyme, cardamom and kanifi (African black pepper).

These intensely exotic aromas spill into a modest dining room appointed with sponged yellow walls, a tin ceiling and wood tables. Past a tiny open kitchen the owners refer to as the "restaurant's laboratory" is a greenhouse decorated with a clunky antler chandelier, African masks and tribal fabric. The slightly kitschy surroundings belie the sophistication of the best of the chef's cooking.

Order the escargot: Out comes an elegant appetizer of escargot tucked into a wafer-thin pastry shell, resembling a large oyster overflowing with richly flavored treasures. These plump nibbles luxuriate in a Pernod sauce perfumed with star anise and crushed red pepper.

There's also a bouillabaisse that's not to be missed. This Provençale fish stew - brimming with fresh shrimp, scallops, clams and tilapia in a tomato and white-wine broth - gets an original and briny awakening from a sun-dried stockfish that Traore sources from an African grocery store in Harlem.

He works wonders with an entrée of roasted chicken, transforming a standard-issue dish into a memorable affair. A 24-hour marinade of cilantro, onions and garlic yields a moist and flavorful bird nestled into a toothsome yassa sauce - a mix of stewed onions, green olives, peppers, lime juice and a habañero chile that delivers a lingering heat. So does a fiery grilled prawns pili pili plated with spinach, sautéed vegetables and an aromatic puck of Wolof rice.

When Traore harnesses bold flavors, his cooking shines. It's only when he tempers the spices that he slips up. This was the case with a neutered vegetarian mafe (a Senegalese peanut stew) and a dainty cup of soup that played more like a dipping sauce for a side of spinach, eggplant and okra. Ditto on a Flintstone-size, gamy lamb shank with a restrained measure of ras el hanout seasoning. He plays it too safe with a generic mix of tough calamari and baby octopus, an out-of-place Greek salad and an uneventful goat-cheese terrine.

Where dessert is concerned, your best choice is a crusty mbous fass, which translates to and tastes unmistakably like French toast: a moist baguette soaked in sweet butter and topped with a marjoram-infused strawberry salad.

Korhogo 126 is a gutsy restaurant that rests on a sleepy block in Brooklyn's Columbia Waterfront District, adjoining a pizzeria, laundermat and wine shop. This earnest joint venture is a spirited journey into West Africa and France - a trip worth taking where a soulful chef delivers.

A splashy and unlikely outpost for African cooking.
55 Gansevoort St., between Greenwich & Washington Sts. (212) 255-8555
Dinner, Mon.-Sun., 5:30 p.m.-midnight
CUISINE Pan-African
VIBE African chic brasserie
OCCASION Trendy group dining; casual date.
DON'T-MISS DISH Lamb tartar; octopus with cured beef; jerk pork belly.
PRICE Small bites, $4-13; appetizers, $10-17; entrees, $18-30; desserts, $4-10.
RESERVATIONS Recommended

Opening a Pan-African restaurant in the Meatpacking District doesn't exactly sound like a sure thing. After all, this is a part of Manhattan where the scene outshines food as a nocturnal crowd ricochets from one nightclub to the next. But chef Marcus Samuelsson has never been afraid to take chances. At Aquavit, he earned praise for a thoroughly innovative approach to Scandinavian fare. With his newest endeavor, Merkato 55, he strives to recast African cooking in an equally modern and prominent light.

It's surreal to enter this splashy brasserie and discover a sea of stylish diners spreading aromatic chutneys and sambals onto homemade African breads. Taking a cue from the exotic cuisine, the sprawling, two-story space is embellished with woven basket lamps, ebony tabletops and sheer curtains with illustrations of African faces. Likewise, the menu is colored with the vibrant flavors and seasonings of the African diaspora.

There's a lot of territory to cover on this vast culinary road map, and it can make for an exciting night out, not to mention a welcome reprieve from the blitz of seasonal American eateries this year. Merkato 55 is Ethiopia by way of a splendid, butter-spiced lamb and South Africa by way of mustard-spackled venison skewered with apricots and smoky chunks of bacon. It's a quick trip to Mozambique via meaty, head-on shrimp sauced with a pungent piri piri (chili pepper).

For the most part, Samuelsson tones down the spiciness for a broader audience than this kind of regional cooking usually attracts. So if you're craving a fiery doro wat (Ethiopian chicken stew) that turns your mouth numb, you won't find it here.

Instead of piling on the heat, Samuelsson flavors the stew with just enough berbere spices and red onions to produce a tingling sensation without rendering your taste buds useless. It arrives in a cast-iron pot with a cooling lump of cottage cheese and sour injera flatbread.

The jerk pork belly is tamer than traditional Jamaican jerk, but this is just as satisfying and more intriguing. It gets a crunchy tangle of green mango and chocolate-chili sauce that coaxes sweetness from the pork.

Samuelsson's creative interpretations also produce an unforgettable appetizer of octopus so generously portioned it's an entrée in disguise. A blissful marriage of flavors, the aggressively seasoned octopus is paired with cured beef and a chewy date jam. Just as unique, a dish of savory-sweet plantains and bananas amplifies the delicious nuances of a cardamom-scented duck leg.

The kitchen does turn out its share of flubs. Spicy links of Merguez sausage sparred with a salty corn porridge that lay beneath it. With such boldly flavored cooking, the chicken soup seemed like it belonged to a different restaurant altogether. It arrived as a vapid broth with mismatched accoutrements: a dollop of peanut butter, celery, avocado and diced apples. And though "foie gras chutney" advertised foie gras, I couldn't detect any traceable amounts of it.

While dessert wasn't nearly as interesting as the rest of the menu, there was a wonderfully sticky malva pudding served with rum raisin ice cream. The house-infused rums are apparently "still infusing" and the menu seems to be evolving, with stronger dishes replacing weaker ones. Authentic or not, Merkato 55 might just have you craving African cuisine.

Address: 137 East 55th St., btwn. 3rd & Lexington Aves.
Phone: 212.755.7055
Cuisine: French-Moroccan
Vibe: Exotic Arabian escape
Scene: Euro crowd
Hours: Dinner, Mon - Sat, 5:30pm- 12am.  Lounge hours, Mon - Fri, 5:30pm - 4AM, Sat. 10pm - 4am. 
Scoop: Multitask - shop while you imbibe in the downstairs store filled with Moroccan wares
Price: Appetizers, $5-11.  Entrees, $22-34.
Reservations: Reservations accepted.
www.azzanyc.com

Ever wonder what happened to Fizz, that members-only supper club & lounge in midtown, which suddenly lifted its exclusionary policy to fill the swanky void within?  Neither did I, but apparently it "fizzled" into the night, not shocking considering the allure of downtown Lotus, Marquee and Stereo.  In its wake, Restaurateur Djamal Zoughbi and his partner Thierry Pomies have ambitiously revamped the space, unveiling French-Moroccan Azza.  Gone are the moneyed namedroppers and impossible Fizz guest lists, replaced by a kindler, gentler Euro-centric crowd. 

If you happen to be in midtown east, Azza merits a visit on aesthetics alone: What could've potentially looked like Epcot's Moroccan Pavillion (yes I've been), manages to eclipse kitschy artifice.  The palatial space is exotically festooned with gold & burgundy accents, vibrant lanterns and pillows, all amassed by Djamal himself on trips to Morocco.  Upon entering Azza, mismatched antique rugs line a lengthy candlelit front hall, draped in shimmering blue tapestries.  Wander left and you'll happen upon the restaurant, but continue down the stairs and you'll find yourself wandering through a subterranean series of moody lounges equipped with hookahs, wireless and a rotating cast of DJ's. 

Naturally, I veered left toward the wireless-free dining room, which was furbished with Gustav Klimt-like wall murals and gilded chairs.  While cuisine tends to be an afterthought at lounges involving DJ booths & dancing, the French-Moroccan menu is so much better than it has to be.  Even more unexpected than the simple, yet polished offerings, is that chef Stephen Ferdinand (Le Zoo & Aquavit) employs only organic ingredients in a flurry of mezze, couscous & tagines.

The best of the offerings are the mezze, liberally sprinkled with fresh mint, lemon, harissa and cinammon.  The seared yellowfin tuna, perfectly rare and tender, packed a laden harissa heat offset by a drizzling of honey.  Well-charred octopus was nicely posed on barely blanched chickpeas with mint, but I was uncharacteristically more taken by a gently sweet, baby carrot salad, crowned with diced mango & fresh dill.  While I usually skip over all things fried when judging the merits of a menu - because almost anything tastes good drenched in hot oil - the fried cigars, rolled in a phyllo dough then stuffed with supremely fresh spinach & melting goat cheese, are not to be missed.  Unfortunately, a heaping bowl of bland & tough falafel is.

If not for the theatrics alone, order a tagine which arrives tableside in traditional clay pots.  A moist tagine chicken came stewing in a blissful puddle of orange flower-perfumed demi glace and dotted with marcona almond-stuffed dates.  We bid adieu to Azza with warm sugar & spice donuts accompanied by a honeyed dipping sauce, a refined take on Dunkin Donut's munchkins.

Limited by not only its midtown locale, but also its clubby vibe, DJ and French Tuesdays, Azza is destined to exist as a Euro-bent nightlife destination that just happens to have good food.

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
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