American
January 18, 2010
*** - Three Stars
Address: 247 South 1st., nr. Roebling St. (Williamsburg)
Phone:
(718)218-8047
Cuisine:
American
Vibe:
Timeless neighborhood haunt
Occasion:
Group dinner; Date; Bar bites.
Hours:
Seven days a week. Dinner, Sun-Thu, 6p.m.-11p.m., Fri & Sat, 6p.m.-12a.m.
Don't
Miss Dish: House-smoked sturgeon; Duck confit; Meatloaf;
Average
Price: Appetizers, $15 ; Entrees,$20 ;Dessert, $9.
Reservations:
Reservations recommended.
Capsule:
A neigborhood restaurant worth venturing out of your own for in Williamsburg.
Have you ever envied a neighborhood for their restaurants? I have. There are so many great places to live in New York with so menu great restaurants. But if I ever mustered up the courage to search for a new apartment and pack boxes, I'd head to Williamsburg. That's where Brooklyn's dining scene really was born. Places like Stone Rose, Peter Luger, and have been around forever, but places like Dumont & Dressler changed the Brooklyn dining landscape forever. Chef Cal Elliot was instrumental at both spots.
Rye is Cal Elliot's first solo effort, but you can tell he's a veteran in the kitchen. He's implemented a wonderful American menu with equal parts refined and retro touches. You'll order the chicken, but what you'll get is a deftly roasted chicken, or a finely charred, sliced steak flavored with red wine for two that fed four, crispy fries, and homemade cinnamon donuts for desserts.
Rye is a real neighborhood restaurant, the kind every neighborhood should have. It's one of those rare spots where you can't make up your mind because there's so many great dishes on the menu. It;s the kind of place you could just order a great burger or an ambitious meal. It's the kind of place where you hope your table's not quite ready, so you can linger at their handsome, oak bar for a little longer and order a proper Hemingway Daiquiri with just the right doses of bitters, orange and whiskey, or a classic Southside. The dining room looks like something from the early 1900's -- a saloon of sorts with dim bare bulb lighting, a tin ceiling, and wood floors. There's not a stich of artwork on the walls, no clever distractions -- a restaurant where blackberries on the table seem entirely out of place.
Most of the food is excellent, but Cal Elliot is especially gifted with duck. I recommend you try the entree-sized appetizer of sliced duck coupled with a unique roasted red pepper and chutney and couscous, or a sweet duck confit served on the bone with shards of pecorino, wild mushrooms, and precious nibbles of gnocchi. I've never referred
to a meatloaf as magnificent, but this one was -- a moist, sweet,
unctuous mix of pork, veal, and short ribs, sided by a stack of onion
rings.
The table favorite was pulled pork sandwich, piled with sweet shreds of meat, cole slaw, and pickles -- a salty, sweet, fatty, and crusty combination. But my favorite is the house-smoked sturgeon poised over scalloped potatoes mingled with bacon and horseradish. The only dishes that missed were a wild striped bass in a watery saffron broth with listless cockles and an artichoke fricassee that paled in comparison to the rest of the menu.
The dessert menu is concise, but just as outstanding as the rest of the menu. I loved the steamed lemon cake with a fragrant Chantilly sauce and fresh mixed berries that didn't seem remotely out of place, even in the dead of winter. There's also one of those old school, wonderfully moist, chocolate cakes paired with a light vanilla ice cream as well as warm, crusty cinnamon donuts.
Cal Elliot has mastered the art of understated yet elegant retro cuisine. We could all use a restaurant like Rye around the corner.
December 14, 2009
Address: 156 Ninth Ave, at 20th St.
Phone: (212)620-4545
Cuisine: Southern-inspired comfort cuisine
Vibe: Charming brownstone
Occasion: Casual date; Group dinner; Bar dining.
Hours: Dinner, Mon-Thu, 5:30p.m.-11a.m., Fri & Sat, 5:30p.m.-12a.m., Sun, 5:30p.m.-11a.m; Brunch, Sat & Sun, 10a.m.-4p.m.
Don't Miss Dish: Hush puppies; Catfish; Brussel Sprouts ;Sweet potato pie; Tipsy Parson dessert.
Average Price: Appetizers, $12; Entrees, $23; Dessert, $8.
Reservations: Recommended
Photo Credit: Jennifer Calais Smith
Capsule: Warm hospitality and wonderful cooking at Tipsy Parson in Chelsea.
How great would it be if you could go out for dinner in your pajamas? Unless you're going to a local diner, eating out requires a certain amount of sacrifice. You have to jump on the subway, walk in the rain, hail a cab, and look slightly presentable. Or, you could just sit on the couch and eat mediocre take-out. As much as I wanted to stay home a few weeks ago, I had plans to go to Tipsy Parson, a new restaurant located in Chelsea, and it was too late to cancel.
A piping hot, buttermilk-chive biscuit with honey butter is so much better than staying home. So is a fluffy bowl of gratineed grits laced with lots of cheese butter and hush puppies with a old bay aioli that could hold their own against the versions being served down south. Every table is welcomed with a homemade herb parkerhouse roll that's to die for. The setting is just as wonderful, designed entirely by the owners themselves. Upfront, there's a casual seating area with cozy couches and an old trunk that functions as a table. There's a long marble bar adorned with flea market knick knacks -- a riding hat, books, and vintage elixir bottles with one that reads "Worm Expeller." In the back of the restaurant, there's an even cozier dining room with French doors that look out onto a backyard, wood floors, brown leather banquettes, and plates hanging along the walls.
Dinner at Tipsy Parson feels a lot like you're eating at someone's house. And in a way, you are. Partners Julie Taras Wallach & Tasha Garcia Gibson first debuted on the New York dining scene a few years ago at Little Giant on the Lower East Side. I always liked Little Giant for its thoughtful cooking, windowed facade, and especially the grasshopper dessert - a bright green mint mousse with chocolate streusel and whipped cream.
But Tipsy Parson further affirms that these are two women to watch. This isn't just Southern comfort food. Dinner begins with a doughy chive-specked parkerhouse roll. There's a terrific warm spinach & kale salad that's got everything going for it in the way of texture and flavor -- crunchy corn bread croutons, dried cherries, button mushrooms and an acidic shallot-sherry vinaigrette that ties the dish together. You rarely see catfish on a menu in Manhattan and the one served here is excellent. Two generous catfish, lightly dusted in celery seed, smoked paprika, coriander, and pepper, are placed above a memorable potato salad. I don't remember the last time potato salad was memorable, but this one's spiced with horseradish and mustard.. My favorite dish on the menu is listed under snacks -- the fig rumaki, which apparently means figs wrapped in sorghum-glazed bacon and stuffed with water chestnuts.
Unfortunately, the celeriac salad -- a mix of celery leaves, fennel, and slivers of Asian pear and apples -- is solely an exercise in texture not flavor. I'd skip the broiled oysters as well, which are overshadowed by much too peppery bacon. No matter. There's too many other terrific dishes, like a velvety parsnip soup garnished with pickled grapes and parsnip chips and a side of sweet, baby brussel sprouts tossed with pecans. I'm a pickle plate person and this one is a first-rate assortment of beets okra, baby carrots, peppers, and onions.
Do stay for dessert as it's chef Julie Taras Wallach's forte. Both the "Tipsy Parson" and the sweet potato pie are two of the best desserts I've tasted in a long time. The restaurant's namesake dessert is a little like an elegant parfait layered with brandy-soaked almond cake, vanilla custard, cranberries, apricots, and toasted almonds. But the sweet potato pie is unforgettable and perfect for the type that doesn't like dessert or opts for the cheese plate. I'm not sure which is better: the sweet potato & greek yogurt filling, the ginger sable crust, or the tangy dollop of sweet sour cream on top.
At some restaurants, homey seems like a theme. At Tipsy Parson, it feels like a genuine sentiment.
November 2, 2009
**Two Stars
Address: 409 West 14th St., btwn. Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Phone: (646)289-3930
Occasion: Group Dinner: Night out
Hours: Dinner, mon-Wed, 6p.m.-11:30 p.m., Thu-Sat, 6p.m.-1:30a.m., Sun, 6p.m.-11p.m.
Don't Miss Dish: Tuna tacos; Strip steak, Apple cobbler
Average Price: Appetizers, $ Entrees, $ Dessert, $12.
Reservations: Highly Recommended.
Capsule: Carnivores in Clubland.
Maybe I'm getting old, but I like a little separate between church and state at dinner. I don't care less about who's sitting at the next table than what they're eating for dinner. I was definitely in the minority on the nights I dined at Abe & Arthurs, a new restaurant that opened over a month ago in the old Lotus space.
The Meatpacking District is much better known for its nightlife than its dining scene, but there are a number of wonderful exceptions, like Scarpetta, Bill's Bar & Burger, and The Standard Grill. In fact, The Standard Grill is a perfect example of a restaurant that's mastered the art of being everything to everyone. There's a distinct separation between church & state -- an upfront bar with trendy cocktails & charcuterie, a bistro, civilized dining room, beer garden, and swanky new lounge currently called the Boom Boom Room.
The propietors of Abe & Arthur's own nightclubs, like Tenjune and nightclubs that also play restaurants like STK. Their newest venture aims to be an American grill that also serves as a hot late-night lounge. Abe & Arthur's is named for the owners' grandparents and so is the Symone Lounge just below the dining room. The chef is Franklin Becker, a veteran of the NYC dining scene, who's worked everywhere from Brasserie to Capitale. He's a good chef with a string of bad luck over the past year, including Sheridan Square and Delicatessen.
His latest menu features standard American dishes with an emphasis on steakhouse classics. There's a raw bar with oysters, clams, shrimp, lobster, and one of those seafood tower. Guests can choose from an array of salads, roasted chicken, seafood, three different cuts of steak with four homemade steak sauces. As for sides, there's some creative riffs on traditional sides, like sweet-garlic mashed potatoes, corn succotash with bacon, and a delicious version of mac & cheese crowned with brown butter and breadcrumbs.
It's impossible to hear a word anyone says in the dining room. Our server had to shout descriptions of dishes at us one at a time. Apparently, the steaks our "soaked in butter." Now, I love Peter Luger and I'm not naive about what goes on behind kitchen doors, but "soaked" is not really what I'm looking for in a steak. I ordered it anyway.
Have you ever had that delivery experience where you're too lazy to go out or cook, so you order take-out and it's at your order in five minutes. Most of us have. It's one of those
don't ask, don't tell" phenomenons. You're hungry and it gets the job done. But I'd never had that experience in a restaurant, nevermind a fashionable new eatery. No more than four minutes had passed when out from the kitchen came our appetizers. We all looked at each other in disbelief. The crab cakes were cold and soggy and so were the supposedly "exploding" blue cheese croutons on a salad of field greens. (But who sends back a salad?)
Of course, I had to investigate further. Our server swore the kitchen had just made our crab cakes. "In three minutes?" I asked. She insisted they did and we insisted on new ones. Second time round, they were terrific. There was hardly any breading, just blue crab meat held together by curried mayonnaise and with roasted corn and a tangy red pepper sauce. The tuna tartare in the tacos were impeccably fresh, dabbed with avocado and a red chili aioli, but the taco shells just detracted from the dish.
On two occasions, the strip steak was well-charred and cooked to order. But I wasn't a fan of a tough pork chop or a seriously overcooked entree of Chatham cod on a muck of cabbage with puffed rice. I did love the spiced sweet potato fries and the mac & cheese.
Desserts were too gimmicky to take seriously, especially the "Carnival for Two" -- a ferris wheel of lukewarm donuts that came with plastic bottles to "inject" a strawberry-raspberry sauce and a funky lemon curd into the center of each. There is a good wine by the glass selection and cocktail list. If I were you, I'd give up on surrender to the noise level and people-watch. I just hope Franklin Becker finds the right stage for his cooking because no one's paying any attention at Abe & Arthur's, including the staff.
August 25, 2009
The Mott: A cozy find with thoughtful cooking pops up in Nolita
- Cuisine: Modern American
- Vibe: Charming downtown nook
- Occasion: Casual date, group dinner, intimate evening
- Don't Miss: Fluke crudo, ricotta gnocchi, duck breast with spinach and figs
- Price: Appetizers, $11; entrees, $22; desserts, $7
- Reservations: Recommended
- Phone: 212-966-1411
- Location: 173 Mott St., at Broome
I have to admit: Dinner's a lot more affordable when there's no alcohol on the menu. But most people like to have a drink with dinner. These days, you need one. Or two.
It's hard enough to open a restaurant, never mind a sobering one. The Mott, a new establishment in Nolita, had to debut without a liquor license. There was some saga about how Emma Cleary, a former owner, parted ways and took The Mott's liquor license with her.
But you know what? The Mott's doing pretty well without one and it's not because of the location. It's situated at the edge of Nolita, on the verge of Chinatown, where the only other thing open at night is one of those Tui-Na massage parlors.
The space is wonderfully quaint — a 38-seat nook furnished with romantic lighting, tin ceilings, whitewashed brick walls and a padded brown leather bar. There's a small, well-edited menu of American dishes like pan-seared cod, chilled summer tomato soup and roasted chicken with haricots vert and fingerling potatoes.
The flavors are much bigger than the menu. The chef, Brian Bieler, used to cook at Upstairs at Bouley and Cafe Luxembourg. Here he's cooking what he wants to cook.
When
a chef is happy, you can really taste it on the plate. Fluke crudo
tends to be delicate and subtle. Not at The Mott. Raw fluke — sprinkled
with diced cantaloupe, sea salt, snap peas and a generous dose of chili
oil — is sweet and spicy and sour all in the same bite. There are a lot
of gnocchi dishes in this city, but the ricotta gnocchi at The Mott are
perfectly cooked, pillowy nibbles, coupled with fresh artichokes and
toasted pine nuts in an artichoke reduction sauce...
August 11, 2009
The Standard Grill: High life on the High Line - at a reasonable price
- Cuisine: American
- Vibe: Bustling High Line haunt
- Occasion: Night on the town, date, group dinner
- Don't Miss: Octopus with sweet potato & chilies, lamb chops, rainbow trout with currant and pine nut relish, shaved lime-mint ice
- Price: Appetizers, $9; entrees, $18; dessert, $7
- Reservations: Recommended
- Phone: 645-4646
- Location: 846 Washington St., at 13th St.
Hip usually comes at a cost. When a restaurant's hip, you can't get a reservation or you can't afford one. If you somehow manage to get a table, it's too noisy to hear yourself eat or too early to eat. The Standard Grill's different. It's undeniably fashionable and entirely affordable. The dining room's filled with celebrities and everybodies.
The restaurant opened in the Meatpacking District, right underneath Andre Balazs' Standard Hotel and the High Line Park. On warm nights, I like the sidewalk seating or the breezy, bistro-style barroom with tile floors and a white oak bar.
The best seats are definitely in the main dining room — a beautifully appointed space with vaulted ceilings, roomy maroon booths, bay windows and a shiny floor covered in 480,000 pennies.
It's the little things — the checkered tablecloths, brown-bagged bread, and bowls of baby radishes and chunks of Parmesan waiting for you on the table — that make it feel warm and accessible, even when Cameron Diaz and Cindy Crawford are sitting at the next table. A side dish, "on the house," brings delights like crispy potatoes with paprika aioli, compliments of the kitchen.
The chef, Dan Silverman, ran the kitchen at Lever House, a place for power meals in the middle of midtown. The Standard Grill is dressed-down food for a downtown crowd. It's an American grill menu with offerings like raw oysters, rib eye, pork chops and a porterhouse. The lamb chops aren't your average chophouse chops. They're smartly marinated in lots of lemon and spices, flash-seared and served with polenta and a basil mint sauce. The burger was good, not great, and the New York strip was so unevenly cooked — cold in the middle and overcooked at the edges — it had to make a round trip right back to the kitchen.
Seafood is really Silverman's forte. He creates wonderfully light, subtle dishes with tons of texture and flavor.
There's
a terrific starter of seared squid, stuffed with Merguez sausage,
brightened by a side salad of frisée, radish, fennel and tart bits of
grapefruit. Even simple dishes stand out — like grilled rainbow trout
perfectly paired with a currant and pine nut relish or corn-studded
potato bellinis drizzled in Béarnaise sauce. My favorite dish on the
menu is the charred octopus tossed with a vibrant mix of sweet potato,
onion, lime and chili.
I always get a kick out of dishes with confident names. The Standard Grill's got a "Million Dollar" roast chicken and a dessert called the Deal-Closer. The chicken was good, but for a million dollars, I would've liked the skin to be a lot crispier, and moister meat. The Deal-Closer for two lived up to its name — a decadent bowl of chocolate mousse with a layer of rich chocolate cake, whipped cream and a salty, crunchy fleur de sel foil. It's playfully served with plastic spatulas, and it's the kind of dessert you'd prefer to enjoy in privacy. There's also a first-rate sour cream cheesecake with a blueberry compote and a jolting lime-mint ice.
I'm not sure whether it's the High Line Park or the Standard Grill, but there seems to be a new way of looking at and eating in New York. You might say the Standard Grill is the first great, culinary landmark in the new High Line District.
August 4, 2009
Hotel Griffou: Setting the bar high for drinks
- Cuisine: Retro-American
- Vibe: Subterranean swank
- Occasion: Night out; impress a date; cocktail cravings
- Don't Miss: Every cocktail; lobster thermidor fondue; deviled crab croquettes
- Price: Appetizers, $10; entrees, $25; dessert, $9
- Reservations: Recommended
- Phone: (212) 358-0228
- Location: 21 W. Ninth St., bet. Fifth & Sixth Aves.
The cocktails at Hotel Griffou
are phenomenal. There's one called the Trophy Wife. I wanted to dislike
it based on its name alone, but it's excellent - a vibrant mix of
cachaca, Champagne and passionfruit puree. My favorite is the Tarbell,
a soothing combination of cucumber vodka, elderflower liqueur, cucumber
and mulled red grapes. It's the kind of drink that's a little too easy
to drink - as is the Mexican Rose, made with tequila, strawberries,
lime and a
fragrant dose of cilantro.
The Griffou isn't a hotel. It's a restaurant that recently opened on a quiet Greenwich Village block lined with brownstones. It's named after a famous 1870s boardinghouse that once occupied the same space. Writers like Mark Twain and Edgar Allan Poe used to eat there. Now, people like Jennifer Lopez and Madonna do.
There's no sign out front, just a blue awning with the number 21 on it. The owners are a pedigreed bunch - they've worked everywhere from La Esquina to Waverly Inn - well-versed in the art of speakeasy-style spots. There's an elegant, wood barroom up-front, followed by a series of charming dining nooks. You can request dinner in the salon, the library, the palm terrace, the wine vault or the studio. The powder blue salon feels like a ladies-who-lunch room, and the palm terrace feels tropical. Or you can eat in the library, which is festooned with a blizzard of knickknacks like stuffed birds, books, musical instruments and teeny TVs playing oddball cartoons.
The only room I didn't like was the studio with its siren red walls, wood benches, uncomfortable metal chairs and mismatched art. Most of the artwork was donated by friends of the owners, who are paid back in dinners and cocktails.
The menu is filled with French-inspired American classics, like sole meunière, duck à l'orange and baked alaska. The chef, Jason Giordano, reworks traditional dishes, turning lobster thermidor into a rich fondue with four kinds of cheese, caramelized onions, shallots and heavy cream. I also liked the duck à l'orange, finely cooked and served over baby beets, oranges and a golden beet and orange puree....
It's a shame the rest of the menu isn't very good. I ordered steak tartare. What I got were dainty brioche rounds topped with a meek steak tartare and a cold, quail egg. Either I have a bigger appetite than most of their guests or the portions are way too tiny. How can the kitchen consider three shrimp an "appetizer" - and what if I'm sharing? Am I supposed to play rock, paper, scissors for the third shrimp?
Usually, half the fun of ordering steak Diane is the show - a beef tenderloin doused in brandy and flamed tableside. None of that here, just a tough, sliced tenderloin in a mustard veal jus alongside butter-drenched potatoes. As for the market greens, I'd be embarrassed to serve it at a backyard barbecue, never mind a hip restaurant. It was a miserable salad with chalky goat cheese and fried shallots. And don't get the sole meunière. (It tasted curiously like soap on two separate occasions.)
The desserts are good. There's a velvety butterscotch banana pudding with vanilla wafers and a teacup of bread croissant pudding. Perhaps they should rebrand Hotel Griffou as a cocktail bar with good desserts.
June 23, 2009
- Cuisine: American
- Vibe: Swanky supper club
- Occasion: Stargazing; see and be seen. Impress your date.
- Don't Miss: Monkey bread, Nora's meatloaf, sticky toffee pudding
- Price: Appetizers, $13; entrees, $25; dessert, $9
- Reservations: Highly recommended
- Phone: (212) 308-2950
- Location: 60 E. 54th St., near Park Ave.
Monkey Bar isn't really a restaurant. It's Graydon Carter's uptown dinner party.
The editor of Vanity Fair began dabbling in restaurants a few years back when he revived the aging Waverly Inn.
Some people like buying vintage cars. Carter likes buying vintage restaurants and restoring them. Monkey Bar still looks like the original, 1930s supper club - rich red-leather banquettes, brass trimmings, monkey lamps and a 65-foot mural of New Yorkers along the walls. Most of the servers wear white steward jackets with long tails and striped patches on the shoulders. The dining room has balcony and orchestra-level seating.
Me, I got stuck at table 39 on every single visit. Have you ever been to a wedding and found your place card puts you at the kids' table ... with your back to the dance floor? That's 39 - on the edge of Siberia, smack in the middle of the server freeway. When we asked about moving, the manager explained, "The tables are all preassigned by the owners." Really, like an airline? Ah, Graydon.
Comfort me with meatloaf and monkey bread. The monkey bread is the crack of carbohydrates - an intoxicatingly sweet puff of dough made with sugar, flour, eggs and heavy cream. If the oversized loaf isn't seductive enough, it has a closer of paprika-spiked pecan butter that's almost as good.
Nora Ephron wrote "When Harry Met Sally," but more importantly, she makes a mean meatloaf, and she gave Carter the recipe. It's a mix of ground veal, pork and beef, seasoned with ketchup and Worcestershire sauce, then blanketed with a wonderful mushroom sauce. I didn't see Meg Ryan or Billy Crystal there, but I did see Jon bon Jovi, Betsey Johnson, Jerry Seinfeld and Katie Couric all dining in the balcony on the same night....
"My grandfather would love this menu," my friend said as she surveyed the offerings - oysters Rockefeller, clams casino, steak tartare, Chasen's chili and lobster Newburg. On my first visit, I had an oily, oily skate with sun-dried tomatoes, capers and onions.
The chef who made the skate was fired a month after opening. Larry Forgione, who owned An American Place, has
taken
over as consulting chef, and the skate's gone, but most of the menu
remains the same. There's a tasty dish called kedgeree, a traditional
Indian dish made with smoked haddock, curried rice, scallions and
coriander, all topped with a poached egg. And there's a well-executed
entree of seared scallops with creamed corn and smoky bits of bacon.
Considering Carter's reputation and Forgione's pedigree, the food should be a lot better. The lobster Newburg tasted like the crustaceans died years ago, the roast halibut was horribly overcooked, and the Chasen's chili desert-dry.
Someone at my table called the cavatelli pasta with chewy short ribs "a dank train wreck."
So save room for dessert, because most are excellent - a sticky toffee pudding, Elysian Muscat Jell-O and malted milk chocolate mousse with peanut brittle. Pastry chef Caryn Stabinsky, who worked at WD-50, also makes the monkey bread.
Graydon Carter's social circus has come to midtown. All his Monkey Bar needs now is better food.
June 9, 2009
- Cuisine: Contemporary American
- Vibe: Clubby chic
- Occasion: Group dinner, casual date, scene-y supper
- Don't Miss: Rabbit sausage, scallops on wilted spinach, baby chicken
- Price: Appetizers, $9; entrees, $24; dessert, $9
- Reservations: Highly recommended
- Phone: (212) 475-3400
- Location: 25 Cooper Square, between Fifth and Sixth Sts.
On a busy night at Table 8, it’s easier to get a drink in the rest room than the dining room. Instead of handing out hand towels, the restroom attendant pours Prosecco.
It’s not the best of times for diners or restaurants, but considering how hard it was to get a reservation, Table 8 seems to be doing just fine. The first time I tasted Govind Armstrong’s cooking was at a Mediterranean restaurant called Chadwick's in Beverly Hills over five years ago. That’s where he first came up with the concept for Table 8 and its casual California cuisine.
He opened the first outpost in Los Angeles, followed by a second branch in Miami and now New York. New York’s Table 8 is tucked inside the newly minted Cooper Square Hotel — a slick, futuristic glass structure in the Bowery district just on the edge of St. Marks Place.
To get to the restaurant, guests have to walk through a dark, dark hotel bar with a vaulted black-tile ceiling, marble bar and midnight black couches.
The dining room looks and feels warmer than both the bar and exterior suggest: a brown leather wall with matching chairs, glass walls with frosted landscapes, bookshelves and an outside dining area. There’s a long, communal “salt bar” with a meat slicer and elevated bar stools that runs through the center of it all.
The first part of the menu is devoted to the salt bar selection — small plates of house-cured meats and fish crudo.
All of the homemade charcuterie offerings are excellent — the duck prosciutto, venison bresaola with blue cheese, a creamy country pork terrine and especially the rabbit sausage. I could’ve eaten an entrée-sized portion of this warm, sweet rabbit sausage served with intense black truffle salt.
However, I’d skip the fish crudo altogether. All three miss. Both the scallops with kumquats and the striped bass cara cara orange were flavor-free. As for the fluke, it’s amazing how much havoc a dab of Thai chili can wreak on raw fluke.
Unfortunately, the portions are really small at Table 8 and, too often, so are the flavors. The homemade linguine needed something more than a sparse scattering of parsley, lemon, ricotta and breadcrumbs to taste anything more than average.
The pan-roasted duck was upstaged by the sunchokes, hazelnut purée and kumquats that accompanied it. And an entree of halibut with marinated tomatoes, fava beans and smoked halibut toast fell flat.
When I go out to dinner, I want to forget what I’m talking about when I take a bite of something wonderful. The only dishes that came close to distracting me were an appetizer of sautéed scallops over wilted spinach and the grilled baby chicken served alongside a red wine-braised short rib hash and cipollini jus.
The best dessert on the menu was a coffee parfait layered with hazelnut streusel, malt ice cream and candied kumquats.
The cocktails are summery and perfect for sipping on the outdoor dining patio. There’s a mellow, gin-based “Southside” with muddled mint and lime, and a great cocktail called “the Basil” — a mix of vodka, muddled green grapes, basil, bitters and ginger soda. It’s a shame it’s so hard to track down a server to order one.
May 26, 2009
- Cuisine: American comfort food
- Vibe: Country chic diner
- Occasion: Late night munchies; neighborhood bites; after-work hangout
- Don't Miss: Jalapeño Bloody Mary, mac and cheese, blueberry sour cream pancakes; Michigan sour cherry pie
- Price: Appetizers, $8; entrees, $16; dessert; $5.
- Reservations: Accepted
- Phone: (212) 219-0666
- Location: N Moore St & Hudson St, New York, NY 10013, USA
Ron Silver worked the breakfast shift at Florent 15 years ago. Then he became obsessed with pies. That's when he opened Bubby's, a pie shop - a pie shop that became so popular he couldn't resist turning it into a restaurant. But breakfast was still in his blood, and so was the concept of late-late-night dining, which is how the current Bubby's evolved.
I've eaten brunch at Bubby's in Tribeca tons of times. They make a spicy Bloody Mary, great house-smoked salmon Benedict and even better blueberry sour cream pancakes. But the real fun of eating at Bubby's these days is eating late at night. On a recent Wednesday night, every bar stool was taken by young, downtown types. One guy sitting at the bar - done in soda counter-style with swivel stools and a copper-surfaced top - was having a martini and a meat loaf.
The dining room was more than half full with the kind of crowd you'd see in any other restaurant. I ordered the Bubby's Manhattan, a wild coho- salmon nicoise salad, and sauteed ramps - not your average diner food. For dessert, I shared a terrifically sour slab of cherry pie and the mile-high apple pie. You have to order one of the pies - coconut custard, chocolate meringue, strawberry rhubarb, key lime and chocolate peanut butter.
Now, there's a new midnight menu, available from midnight to 6 a.m., six days a week. There are two kinds of people: morning people and night people. Me, I'm the nocturnal type. You'd be surprised by how hard it is to find good food and good atmosphere in the middle of the night.
I was disappointed when round-the-clock Florent shut its doors, as was the rest of the city. Florent's French onion soup and steak frites used to taste pretty good at 4 in the morning. So do Bubby's chocolate chip pancakes and a blood orange mimosa. And their won
derfully dense mac and cheese, seasoned with nutmeg and crusted in corn-flake crumbs.
A lot of American diners feature hash on the menu, but Bubby's hash is made with Berkshire pork belly. As for the potato chips, the kitchen slices them thick and sends them out of the kitchen doused in a homemade blue cheese sauce. Skip the overly garlicky, garlic beef burger and instead try a surprisingly good veggie burger made with brown rice,
mushrooms, corn, carrots and peas.
The bartenders make solid cocktails, which seems strange in a place with laminated map place mats, menus with a photo of Silver's bubby on the front, and a lending library in the corner. Judging from the scene last Thursday at 3 in the morning, there are a lot of hungry night owls craving roasted vegetable chili and a jalapeño Bloody Mary. They even ran out of waffle batter the other night, so they made do with pancake batter and now that's the recipe.
Why do we love eating in the middle of the night so much anyway? Why, after we down our last drink, do we suddenly crave eggs or pancakes or French fries?
When we're awake, we want to eat. Sometimes, I still crave a waffle, even after a three-course dinner and a few glasses of wine.
March 10, 2009
East Village fish shack Butcher Bay's no keeper 
Tuesday, March 10th 2009, 4:00 AM
Sunshine/News (Butcher Bay serves up fish in the East Village.)
Not quite everything you hope for in a fish shack.
511 E. Fifth St., near Avenue A. (212) 260-1333
Dinner: Mon.-Sun., 6 p.m. until late.
CUISINE: Fish shack
VIBE: Down and dirty East Village
OCCASION: Neighborhood dinner, bar bites
DON'T-MISS DISH: Scallop pan roast, steamed mussels with bread
AVERAGE PRICE: Appetizers, $6; entrees, $17. No desserts.
RESERVATIONS: Not accepted.
A hell of a lot has changed at 511 E. Fifth St., near Avenue A. It used to be called Seymour Burton. It wasn't the prettiest place to look at, but the food was wonderfully hearty. And they had a great burger. Now Seymour Burton is Butcher Bay, a wanna-be Pearl Oyster Bar. Adam Cohn, one of the original owners, remains. The burger doesn't. Big mistake.
The sign on the front door says, "Cash Only." It should also say, "No Beer on Tap." Butcher Bay is the kind of place that should have beer on tap. It should also have a full bar. It doesn't. No dessert either.
At the rear of the dining room, there's a raw bar with five kinds of oysters, one kind of clam and 1%BD -pound lobsters. Aside from a steak and fried chicken, it's a fish menu. There's fish and chips, chowder, boiled Maine lobster and a lobster potpie. There aren't a whole lot of seafood spots in New York anymore, but there used to be not so long ago.
Did you know that oysters used to thrive in New York Harbor until the 1900s? So did clams, eel, shrimp, lobsters and conch. Did you know that in the 1820s there used to be oyster bars along Canal St. with "all you could eat oysters" for 6 cents? Or, that by 1880, New York Harbor produced over 700 million oysters a year?
Those days are long gone. You wouldn't eat oysters out of the harbor right now.
You should eat the oysters at Butcher Bay. Sometimes, there are Beau Soleil or Witch Duck oysters, but most are fresh from the Chesapeake Bay. And the best thing on the menu is the scallop pan roast. It's rich and buttery - studded with small, sweet scallops, bacon, corn and potato. The menu also has a generous bowl of steamed mussels served with grilled bread, and tasty shrimp hush puppies.Seymour Burton served fried clams, and so does Butcher Bay. But Butcher Bay's are overbattered and underfried. The fried oyster and bacon po' boy isn't so much a po' boy as it is fried batter, lettuce, tomato, bacon and a muck of mayonnaise on a stale French baguette.
I remember having a good oyster chowder at Seymour Burton. But the oyster chowder at Butcher Bay is thin and flavorless. The Green Goddess salad is woefully overdressed, not exactly how you like to see your goddess.
There are a few cheap wines by the glass and one really awful sparkling white wine - a Veuve Ambal Blanc de Blancs NV - which my friend called the Mountain Dew of sparkling wine. The menu and the decor at Butcher Bay suggest fish shack, but this is one halfhearted fish shack.
The most imaginative thing about Butcher Bay is its name. Adam Cohn says that co-owner Bob Giraldi made the name up. But the only Butcher Bay I've heard of is a fictional place - a maximum-security prison in the video game Chronicles of Riddick: Escape From Butcher Bay. Riddick is voiced by Vin Diesel - and like any good hero, he manages to escape.
Perhaps we should take a cue.





