In the lounge, it's Le Cirque in blue jeans.

151 E. 58th St. (between Lexington and Third Aves)
(212) 644-0202
Dinner, Mon.-Sat., 5:30-11 p.m.; lunch, 11:45 a.m.-3 p.m.
CUISINE Modern French
VIBE Elegant institution
OCCASION Business lunch, romantic date, family affair
DON'T-MISS DISHES Tuna with avocado tapenade, duck and green-mango salad, crème brûlée.
AVERAGE PRICE Cafe prix fixe, $35; appetizers/entrées, $17; dessert, $12.
RESERVATIONS Accepted but not necessary.

I wore jeans to Le Cirque. My friend wore jeans and sneakers, and they didn't throw us out.

I felt a little guilty, but no one winced at us. Not even Sirio Maccioni, who still runs the show. What's Le Cirque without Sirio — the man who wrote the playbook on working the dining room and keeping the rich and famous happy?

But these days, Sirio runs the show from a table near the door. Across from Sirio's up-front office is a pop-up bookshop where you can buy a copy of the Le Cirque cookbook, "Sirio: The Story of My Life and Le Cirque" (the English or Italian version), and Barbarba Walter's memoir, "Audition." And just this past December, HBO produced a documentary called "Le Cirque: A Table in Heaven." The DVD can be purchased on Le Cirque's Web site, but the documentary really tells the story of the old Le Cirque.

I ate dinner at a new Le Cirque. It is no longer a restaurant. It's a relic, really, the original, iconic supper club.

Other restaurants have achieved institution status — the Four Seasons, the '21' Club and the Rainbow Room. But none are invulnerable to time and the shifting economy. The '21' Club loosened its tie policy, the Four Seasons swallowed its pride with a $59 anniversary menu, and who knows what's to become of the Rainbow Room.

Then there's Le Cirque. There's still a jacket policy — tie optional — in the dining room, still silver sneeze lids over the plates, tableside theatrics and a $92 prix-fixe menu. And there's still a secret menu that only members know about — Dover sole, pasta primavera, and roasted chicken for two.

About a year ago, the Maccioni family turned the cafe into a lounge where can you kick back in your sneakers and order a glass of wine and mini-cheeseburgers. (There's also a $35 prix-fixe menu.)

Sirio's sons — Mauro and Marco — are the new welcoming committee. And there's young blood in the kitchen too — Craig Hopson, who worked at Picholine and One If by Land, Two If by Sea.

What's so great about the lounge is that you can get so many of the dishes that are also served in the dining room. Those are the ones you want to order.

The best is the tuna — smoky ribbons of sashimi layered with fresh clementine, sesame tuile and an unexpected jolt of avocado tapenade that tastes like fancy guacamole. Another good crossover dish is the sautéed shrimp with cilantro, kaffir lime and carrot confit.

But some of the lounge-only dishes are no slouches. Like the pavé of veal breast — braised, breaded and served with a coffee-cardamom jus, roasted pear and wisp of pecorino. The duck and green-mango salad is a lounge-only dish, too — an excellent mix of duck confit, duck cracklings, puffed rice and shredded mango in a lime vinaigrette.

But how do you mess up fried calamari or chicken paillard or lobster consommé?

Somehow, Hopson manages to, which is odd considering his résumé.

The dessert menu is the same in the dining room and the lounge, but all you need to know is this: Le Cirque makes the best crème brûlée in the city. And the recipe's right there on the dish.

I also love the millefeuille, but skip the pineapple carpaccio with a gritty lemongrass sorbet and the ginger panna cotta.

Oh, by the way, don't try the jeans-and-sneakers bit in the main dining room. It only works in the cafe.

Recession-proof dining.
1762 First Ave., at 91st St. (212) 996-9426
Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sun, noon-10 p.m.
CUISINE: Tuscan Italian
VIBE: Humble neighborhood spot
OCCASION: Neighborhood dining, family dinner
DON'T MISS DISH: Grilled calamari, venison ­pappardelle, wild boar meatloaf, tiramisu
AVERAGE PRICE: Appetizers, $7; entrees, $14; dessert, $5
RESERVATIONS: Accepted

Why aren't more people talking about Cipolla Rossa?

Maybe it's the location — First Ave. near 91st St. Maybe it's the narrow storefront. It has a bright yellow awning and it looks more like your average takeout joint than a real restaurant.

The only reason I knew about it was the wild boar meatloaf.

Someone had tipped me off, knowing I'm fond of game. So, I trekked up to Cipolla Rossa on a cold, rainy Saturday night and waited 30 minutes for a table. As it turned out, the meatloaf wasn't meatloaf. How can it be meatloaf if there are no eggs, bread or ketchup in it? How can it be meatloaf if it's not as heavy as lead? This one wasn't.

It tasted more like a moist Italian terrine — wild boar poached in olive oil and seasoned with rosemary, bay leaves and a tart hint of juniper berries. Maybe that's how they make meatloaf in Florence. That's where the chef, Pierluigi Sacchetti, is from. He likes game, too. Sometimes, he makes pappardelle with rabbit ragu or tagliatelle with venison stew or spaghetti with walnut-wild boar meatballs.

He has a way of taming the robustness of game, encouraging its delicacy, its subtlety. Eating the tagliatelle with venison stew you almost forget it's venison. You're not eating venison just for the sake of venison. You're eating it for what it contributes to the complexity of the dish. Cipolla Rossa is a good place to break in a game - shy friend.

You wouldn't expect such serious cooking from such a chintzy-looking restaurant. What makes Cipolla Rossa endearing are also its shortcomings. There are only 16 seats in the restaurant. The phone rings in the dining room because that's where the cashier is taking delivery orders. In the front of the house, it's a one-man band.

Angelo Amato, one of the owners, is also the maître d', server, busboy, sometime-sommelier and life of the party. On Angelo's night off, the chef works the front of the house. Perhaps that's why Cipolla Rossa is so welcomely inexpensive. (I should also mention that the bathroom is through the kitchen. "One coming through," Angelo shouts before you pass through the swinging door.)

And let's face it, this is also the kind of place where you're going to end up sharing your food with strangers. Where food is concerned, "rustic" is a word that's ­basically been ruined. But let's dust it off. At Cipolla ­Rossa, rustic means a kind of coarseness in construction, but not in flavor.

For example, the ribollita soup: black cabbage, onions, carrots, celery, canellini and three-day-old bread — a ­stalwart vegetable porridge. Or the squid ink tagliolini. The chef cuts the pasta by hand. Each strand is slightly ­irregular, so the shrimp reduction broth — brodetto — clings to every noodle.

The ­noodles themselves are buried under an avalanche of seafood — clams, calamari, mussels, shrimp, salmon and cod. This costs $12!

Not everything is wonderful, but there are a few dishes you really must not miss: the grilled calamari, the eggplant parmigiana and the crispy, beer-battered sweetbreads with sliced pear. And why not close with the tiramisu? Gigi makes it with mascarpone, espresso, cocoa, custard and savoiardi — a Piemontese version of lady fingers, only better.

1600 Third Ave., at 90th St. (212) 423-5888
Sun.-Thur., 5:30 p.m.-11 p.m.; Fri. & Sat., 5:30 p.m.-12 a.m.
CUISINE Modern American steakhouse.
VIBE Butcher-shop sleek.
OCCASION UES date; group dining.
DON'T-MISS DISH Tomato and watermelon gazpacho, filet mignon, sour-cream cheesecake.
PRICE Appetizers, $9-$15; entrees, $22-$42; dessert, $8-$10.
RESERVATIONS Accepted.

You need a road map through the menu at Parlor Steakhouse. Here it is: Order the gazpacho, ask for the filet mignon medium rare, and finish with any one of Andrea Bucheli's desserts. If you don't eat meat, order the branzino. If you don't eat meat or fish - seriously, what are you doing at a steakhouse? You can still have a glass of wine and order dessert, which is probably worth the trek uptown.

Did I mention the desserts? Save room, lots of room. They're created by Bucheli, 28, who was a pastry chef at Country and Fresh before coming to Parlor Steakhouse. Her desserts are whimsical. She can't make up her mind, and she doesn't ask you to, either.

Each dessert is really two desserts in one. The sour-cream cheesecake is the tart offspring of cheesecake and panna cotta, crowned with curls of candied lemon. (It's also served with honey ice cream.) The chocolate ganache cake is a collision between fudge and a flourless souffle, which is the best kind of collision you could hope for.

Then there's the hybrid of rice pudding and creme brulée on a crunchy pedestal of candied Rice Krispies. It comes with creme fraiche ice cream. That adds up to four desserts for the price of one. Clearly, too much is never enough.

Now that dessert is out of the way, let's get down to the meat. Normally, I'm a porterhouse girl. The problem with most filets is simple - no bone, no fat, no flavor. Not this one. It's just as tender as other filets, but it has a better burn. That's because chef Lucas Billheimer fires it quickly in a 600-degree broiler. Somehow, that brings out the personality in what's usually an impersonal cut.

Billheimer was the chef de cuisine at Lure Fish Bar. It stands to reason that someone who understands how to grill fish will do a great job with meat - something you surely want in a steakhouse chef. Billheimer knows how to give the porterhouse a volcanic char, with just the right ratio of crust to fat to bone. (I told you I was a porterhouse girl.) A steak this good doesn't need much company. But if you think it looks too lonely on the plate, order the fried onions or the creamed spinach.

As you wander through this menu, try to stay on the dry side. Almost anything with a sauce is way too damp. The lobster roll is positively murky with mayonnaise. The steak tartare is bathing in béarnaise aioli and topped with mouth-puckering pickled shallots. It's also a little too prim and fussy - steak tartare in a doll's dress. You'd expect the heirloom tomato salad to be simple, all about the tomatoes. These tomatoes arrived in a quicksand of gorgonzola mousse, having already nearly drowned in a red onion confit.

What Parlor is really saying is that it doesn't have to be a steakhouse at all, if you don't want it to be. It doesn't look like a steakhouse - the interior is sleek, bright and modern. It doesn't offer a Caesar salad or even an iceberg wedge. It just so happens the best thing on the menu is steak. And did I mention the desserts?

1081 Third Ave., near 64th St. (212) 888-6333
Open seven days a week, noon-midnight.
CUISINE Italian
VIBE Sprawling wine cellar
OCCASION Neighborhood bites, casual family affair
DON'T MISS DISH King salmon crudo, truffle pate pizza
PRICE Appetizers, $4-$15; Entrees, $14-$45.
RESERVATIONS Recommended

Apparently, New York can never have too many Italian eateries. At least, that's what the latest battery of restaurateurs is banking on this season. Enotecas, vinotecas, trattorias - they are the latest incarnations of Italian fare. Accademia di Vino aspires to be all three.

In the landscape of the upper East Side, partner Anthony Mazzola ('Cesca) tempts fate in a space that has housed ­several short-lived pursuits - Mainland, Wild Tuna and Ollie's - to name a few. Mazzola has recruited chef Kevin Garcia, who also helms 'Cesca's kitchen, to undertake an ambitious menu.

Its street-level wine bar - appointed with wood paneling, communal tables and Italian bar snacks - glimpses at downtown cool. It offers uptown creatures of habit a taste of what's currently a consumer-approved recipe for success.

Below ground is a succession of brick arch-rimmed dining enclaves. Earth-toned walls are adorned with posters that nod to wine, and blackboards are chalked with oenophile tidbits. It is a sprawling space where an even more sprawling menu awaits you at the table.

"In addition to our menu, we also have some specials," our server begins. "There's more?" my companion sputters, his eyes bulging as he scans the phone book-sized selection. "I've been working since 8 o'clock this morning. You order," surrendering his menu over to me.

There are 96 items on the menu - excluding dessert. Where to begin? Garcia has concocted a dizzying selection: crudo, panini, carpaccio, tartare, pizza, pasta, antipasti. Diners stumped by dishes labeled fettina (seared) and manzo (beef) have to refer to the menu's glossary for a translation.

But the glaring issue at hand: How can one chef skillfully command this much domain? Even Garcia, who has proven his mastery of a perfectly grilled pizza at Al Forno and served admirably as chef de cuisine at Del Posto, can't possibly cover the scope of this menu.

The grilled pizzas turn up crispy disks, coated with enticingly thin layers of tangy cheese. This was especially true of a truffle pate-spackled variation with creamy hints of robiola and pecorino.

But the true acid test of any respectable Italian - spaghetti pomodoro with basil - emerged utterly mundane. What should've been simple, tangy and pleasing was none of the above. Neither homemade nor properly al dente, floppy noodles got a shallow wash of insipid tomato sauce. Even worse was the bucatini alla carbonara: fatty chunks of guanciale pasted into an excessively peppered sauce.

The grill stole the juices from a pork chop, a gluey lemon aioli got its hands on crunchy baccala fritters, and scallops fettina showed up oddly wet on two occasions.

The best hand Accademia di Vino's holding is the crudo. A lush wedge of wild king salmon is dressed in a salsa verde with feisty anchovy undertones and a fresh grate of horseradish accompaniment. I did end on a lovely panna cotta note: feathery custard fragranced with rosemary and topped with a cloud of whipped cream.

"Please visit 'Cesca our sister restaurant across the park," reads a sign on the way to the door. That's an idea.

1621 Second Ave., at 84th St.
(212) 772-2242
Dinner: Mon.-Sun., 5:30 p.m.-midnight
Cuisine: Authentic northern Italian
Vibe: Boisterous, cozy classic
Occassion: Family affair, festive occasion
Don't Miss Dish: Spaghetti frutti di mare
Price: Appetizers, $8-$17; entrees, $17-$38; desserts, $8-$12
RESERVATIONS Recommended

Some restaurants never change - it's precisely what people love about them. Unlike newcomers who bend to the latest culinary whims du jour, there remain a few steadfast institutions that succeed simply by resting on their laurels. There is the timeless glamour of lunch at the Four Seasons and the inimitable nostalgia of a hefty porterhouse at Peter Luger's.

Then there's the charming lure of old-world Italian at Elio's. Upper East Siders have been loyal members of this "clubhouse" for nearly 26 years.

With its dark wood paneling and handsome wainscoting, the decor reinforces the supper club aura. Schoolhouse style light fixtures emit a golden hue that is bewitching, even romantic. Couples, families and celebrities such as Martha Stewart and Matt Lauer happily pack into tight tables, simply to bathe in the glow.

Waiters greet with a ritual "Buona sera," simultaneously tossing a bread basket and slab of butter onto your table. They're not big on formality or technology: Every bill is still tallied by calculator, every reservation written in pencil. Wine menus are distributed only upon request - most get their "usual" cocktail or a glass of house red.

And in 26 years, Elio's northern Italian menu has hardly changed. Why should co-owners Elio Guaitolini and Anne Isaak change a thing when customers can't seem to get enough?

"We were doing seasonal specials like zucchini blossoms long before it was fashionable," says Isaak. "We've also been doing spaghetti and meatballs every Wednesday for nine years. I hear everyone's doing that now. Regulars call ahead to reserve 40 or 80 meatballs at a time. Once, a customer ordered 300."

These pudgy veal meatballs (six to an order) surface, juicy and satisfying. Amid a blizzard of newfangled interpretations - foie gras-stuffed, raisin-studded and egg-capped - their unadorned purity is worthy of pause.

It's the sincerity of familiar classics that comes through in the most compelling dishes: A buffalo mozzarella, firm and yet delicately sweet, a beef carpaccio with a lively salsa verde, and traditional clams oreganata - intoxicating and zesty, one of the best in town.

Address: 406 E. 64^th Street, at 1^st Ave.
Phone: 212.750.0434

Cuisine: American Nouveau
Scene: Upper Eastsiders
Hours: Dinner, Mon-Sun, 5:30pm-11pm; Lunch, Mon-Fri, 11am-3pm; Brunch, Sun 11am-3pm.
First Bite Impressions: Simply inconsistent
Don't Miss Dish: Salt Cod and Gnocchi Ragout
Don’t Bother Dish: Bay Shrimp and Chorizo Risotto, Proscuitto Wrapped Pork Tenderloin
Price: Appetizers, $11; Entrees, $25.
Restaurant Girl Rates: 6 for food, 6 for atmosphere
Reservations: Accepted & recommended for prime-time.

Tucked into a quiet railroad-style nook on Manhattan's Upper East Side, modestly emerges the modern American Solace.  Unlike most restaurants that razzle dazzle us to garner attention, husband-and-wife duo, David & Mary Regueiro have instead set out to lull their "suburban" clientele.   

Decor
The space is simple, perhaps to a fault: creamy leather banquettes wind their way around the edges of the dark wood beam-accented minimalistic dining room, all washed in a subdued glow.  And then there's the view to the back garden, which drastically contrasts with the all too grown-up interior.  Beyond French doors leading out to a back garden, lay a flurry of Pellegrino-branded umbrellas that hover over your basic beer garden-type furniture, and left me wondering if Solace was in cahoots with the sparkling water brand.  Unfortunately, it was raining so we were relinquished to the indoors, where we sat among grown-ups to dine on an eclectic menu that spanned the continents.

Menu
An eclectic hodgepodge of Italian, French, American and raw bar offerings, the menu is diverse and somewhat random: poached pacific coast oysters, an eggplant , goat cheese and tomato terrine, And of course, there are the standard-issued, featuring seared salmon, roasted chicken, sirloin and grilled fishes.

Food
The menu is unequivocally & unfortunately, hit or miss.  We landed on some well-executed dishes; a chunky tuna tartare finished with mango, chile, and a faintly sweet soy sauce; properly briny Rhode Island oysters, excellently matched with an inventive cucumber & apple mignonette.  Better still, was a sea cod & gnocchi ragout - a truly transporting dish that jetted us off to Provence with an impeccably doughy gnocchi, bathed in a fresh bath of salty capers, olives and just-plucked san marzano tomatoes.  Don't get me wrong: there are some excellent dishes to be had, they're just scattered amidst too many mediocre ones. 

The bay shrimp in a chorizo risotto were outright fishy and its supposed lobster butter saucing untraceable.  Then there was the wildly unremarkable & dried-out pork tenderloin, cloaked in an even drier prosciutto alongside overcooked mission figs.  Warm apples sandwiched between a thick pastry sandwich disturbingly evoked visions of McDonald's baked "apple pie" pocket- not in a good way.    

Solace results in a simultaneously serene & yet dull dining experience with too few notables and not enough ambiance to constitute a dining draw.  But if you live in the neighborhood and have gotten your hands on a babysitter, it's nothing to turn your nose up at.  Hey, the al fresco Sunday brunch is worthwhile.  If nothing else, the pleasant resurfacing of Joseph Scalice, once March (most recently Nish's) wine director, is a plesant & ironic one at a BYO.  Still, it's not bad for the 'burbs.

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
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Address: 100 E. 63rd. St., at Park Ave.
Phone: 212.644.1900
Cuisine: Summer-inspired American
Scene: Mixed bag
Hours: Dinner, Sun-Thu, 5:30-11pm, Fri & Sat, 5:30-11:30pm; Lunch, Mon-Fri, 11:30am- 3pm; Brunch, Fri & Sat, 11am-3pm.
First Bite Impressions:  Splendidly summer
Don't Miss Dish: Soft shell crabs with strawberries, soy & avocado
Price: Appetizers, $16; Entrees, $32.
Reservations: Accepted & recommended for prime-time.

Park Avenue Cafe had fallen into the category of steadfast old-timers, wrestling with the demands of a new generation of diner, who eat as stylishly as they dress, while still trying to appease seasoned regulars.  That is, until Alan Stillman's son recently took over the restaurant's reigns.  Michael Stillman first tempted fate when he transformed the seafaring Manhattan Ocean Club into Quality Meats, a chic new steakhouse species. 

At Park Avenue Summer, he's again ventured out on a limb with a restaurant that takes the notion of the four seasons quite literally.  Presently, Park Avenue embodies summer: the space wears sunny yellow-lacquered panels, dressed up with tortoise shells, white leather banquettes and beachy whitewashed wood boards.  Park Avenue Summer will fall into autumn, then winter and spring; so will the menu and the decor.  AvroKO has admirably broken out of their signature industrial chic rut, shaping a beachy, yet polished atmosphere that can be taken down and re-imagined four times a year.  There's the elephant in the room that begs the question: how financially viable could building a set for every season be?  Time will soon tell.  But one thing's for sure...

There's nothing more fashionable than being new, and that's exactly what Michael Stillman is banking on: the perpetually virginal restaurant.  As for the menu, Craig Koketsu, who will also maintain his position at Quality Meats, has devised an appropriately seafood-streaked menu with a generous sprinkling of summer's best: sea scallops with peaches & granola, grilled langoustines and lamb chops paired with barbecued cherries.

Summer arrives in the crusty form of warm, sea salt-coated semolina rolls delightfully stocked with fresh corn kernels.  Man could live on bread and water alone here, but best not as the menu reveals Craig Koketsu at his best, arousing the most bewitching subtleties from creatures of the sea.  Petals of fluke, simple and clean, sneak surprisingly potent blasts of flavor from dabs of intense plum & cilantro paste, each perfectly capped with a crispy wisp of sunchoke.  A crunchy green & yellow bean salad terrifically benefits from chewy chunks of dried apricot & crushed almonds.  Soft shell crab gets downright dreamy when flash-fried in a white soy-infused batter, brightened by the gentle sweetness of strawberries & passion fruit, then immediately mellowed by smooth avocado and peppery slivers of jicama.

You could easily drift among appetizers and find yourself perfectly content, but if you do venture into entrees, you'll be richly rewarded with a juicy filet mignon sandwich; apricot becomes the perfect foil for intensely rich lamb tenderloin; and properly creamy lobster salad is polished off with a zesty kick of orange-lemon vinaigrette.

The only true disappointment I happened upon were bland medallions of yuzu-infused tuna, all but overwhelmed by gluey puddles of aioli.  Amidst an exciting collection of inspired dishes, it fell remarkably flat. 

Dessert redolently reeks of summer as well. Veteran pastry chef, Richard Leach, expertly executes on original interpretations of sweet classics.  (He also engineers the perilously addictive bread basket).  The most enticing of all, was a velvety blueberry ice cream that accompanied a fluffy semolina cake & silky-smooth panna cotta with aromatic undercurrents of lemongrass.  Leach's grown up riff on thin mint cookies arrives as a trio featuring an airy chocolate & peppermint custard, an ice cream pop robed in dark chocolate shell and a decadent chocolate bar.  Leach makes it impossible to skip dessert and even more so, to pick just one when delivering fried corn pudding fritters draped in juicy in roasted peaches and an uncharacteristically light sweet corn panna cotta. 

It's pricey.  But then again, you wouldn't expect anything less when dining on Park Avenue.   

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
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1193 1st Ave., btwn. 64th & 65th Aves.
(212)988-8408

TYPE: Japanese yakitori
VIBE: Cozy hideaway
OCCASION: Journey to a Tokyo eating counter on the UES
DON'T MISS DISH: Miso-marinated chicken skewers
DON'T BOTHER DISH: Chicken hearts
DRINK SPECIALTY: BYOB (liquor license pending)...
PRICE: $45 & up
HOURS: Dinner, Monday, Wed. - Sun., 5:30 PM - 11 PM.  Closed on Tuesdays.
RESERVATIONS: Reservations accepted, recommended for large groups.
RESTAURANT GIRL RATES: 7 (very good)
FINAL WORD: An unlikely dining destination, Tori Shin makes its mark with a celebration of yakitori, elevating organic chicken to a simple, but inspired plane.

After a disappointing visit to Ariyoshi for less than mediocre izakaya fare, I was hell-bent on uncovering a newcomer worthy of an authentic Japanese badge of honor.  While searching for a sushi joint on the Upper East Side, I accidentally stumbled into Tori Shin, a yakitori haven for all things barbecued and skewered.  Obscured by closed blinds and a sliding black door, I felt like I was entering some secret Asian supper club.  A traditional eating counter takes centerstage at this sleek space where twenty, gray ultrasuede chairs wrap around a generous, maplewood eating counter with glass classes, displaying yet uncooked, bamboo-skewered chicken parts. 

What is yakitori you might be wondering?

A popular after-work cuisine in Japan, yakitori translates to bamboo-skewered chicken barbecued over charcoals.  While many cuisines dress up their food with countless ingredients, yakitori uses simple seasonings: salt, lemon juice, yakitori sauce or dipping sauce.  While yakitori refers specifically to barbecued chicken and vegetables, the term has lent itself to beef, pork and many other meats.  And now back to our regularly scheduled programming - Tori Shin...

While New York admittedly offers a boundless array of flavors and regional cuisines, I still find myself pining for the earnest passion and unaffected cooking style that I'd discovered in Tokyo.  Tori Shin manages to transplant the authentic experience of a traditional Japanese procession of small plates, all simple in execution and yet precisely prepared, evoking pleasing and pure flavors in everything from a breast of chicken to vegetable soup.  In the company of Japanese diners (always a very good sign), guests watch yakitori chefs man the barbecue, fanning the meat with paper fans, using only the simplest of seasonings, if any at all.  Perhaps, the absence of such a place in New York, was precisely the reason that co-owner and manager, Keiji Suzuki, partnered up wtih chef Koichi Inoue, who formerly cooked at Toriyoshi (a popular yakitori spot in Tokyo), to open Tori Shin, focusing all of their efforts on chicken - organic chicken to be exact. Diners can choose from either a chef's omakase course ($60) or a "dinner set" ($45), which includes salad, soup, appetizers and six skewers, four chicken and two vegetable. 

But the meal begins with a bowl of mildly pickled vegetables, which wasn't particularly revelatory, though I am a sucker for warm hand towels, which Tori Shin seems doles out between every course, and there are many.  This was quickly followed by minced soy-spiked daikon, a Japanese palate cleanser, preparing you for the Japanese version of an amuse bouche.   Not the traditional amuse bouche that's become practically obligatory "compliments of the chef" at the city's most elegant restaurants, Tori Shin presents a melange of four cold bites: a chicken terrine, carrot gelee, burdock root wrapped in tofu and springy Japanese mushrooms.  While each was gently seductive and simultaneously simple in its own right, the chicken terrine, a dish that evoked flavors of chicken liver & the texture of gefilte fish (in a good way), was a savory, and yet pure pleasantry that I could've happily committed more time to, but there was still yakitori to be had.

Tori Shin offers a generous selection of organic chicken skewers, some de-skinned, others with skin on, a celebration of every imaginable part of the chicken, from wings to gizzards.  As is often the case in traditional Japanese haunts, the chef strongly suggests how to eat the plate presented before you; whether you should invoke soy sauce or whether it's best eaten undressed.  Such was the case at Tori Shin, with the exception of the underseasoned skewer of three parts of chicken.  For this dish, I added a little soy, which indeed did the trick.  While I didn't take much to a skewer of chicken hearts, I took pause over the miso-marinated chicken, often overplayed in seafood dishes, a la Nobu's miso cod or staple miso sea bass at many a Japanese spinoff of late, most of which are good, but predictable.  Miso-laced bits of chicken were so intensely moist and flavorful that I demanded seconds.  Not quite as astounding but nevertheless tasty, the pounded chicken wrapped around a fresh, crisp leek, was skewered with a blistery Japanese pepper, the perfect combination of crisp vegetables and silky chicken meat.  Perfectly crispy on the outside, supremely tender within, the chicken meatballs (tsukune) were simply seasoned with a bright yakitori sauce.  The parade of chicken was quickly followed by two vegetable skewers; ginko beans, nutty and crunchy, and gentle Japanese mushrooms. 

If that wasn't enough, which it was, there was another course to be had, that even if you're nearing full, is worth risking the aftereffects of eating too much.  With a choice of oyaka don and dashi chazuke, I tried both.  While the dashi chazuke, a simple bonito broth with rice, was soothing, I was more enchanted by the oyaka don, a traditional bowl of rice topped off with a rich chicken meatball and a gooey, half-boiled egg.  If you don't have room, I highly recommend bringing it home and eating it for breakfast - well-worth the shame of asking for a doggie bag.  For dessert, I took part in a subtly sweet mound of crushed ice with specks of oba leaf.

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl

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Sasabune
401 East 73rd St., nr. 1st Ave.
(212)249-8583

TYPE: Sushi
VIBE: No nonsense UES sushi joint
OCCASION: Serious sushi endeavors
DON'T MISS DISH: Albacore sashimi, amberjack with ponzu sauce, crab hand roll - basically, the entire omakase menu. 
DRINK SPECIALTY: Sake & Japanese beer
PRICE: $60 & up
HOURS: Dinner, Mon - Sat, 5:30 PM - 10:30 PM; Lunch, Mon - Fri, 12 PM - 2 PM.
RESERVATIONS: Reservations accepted, recommended for the sushi bar.
RESTAURANT GIRL RATES: 8.5
FINAL WORD: The best sushi this side of Tokyo, Sasabune is a sushi trek definitely worth taking.

At the risk of waging a culinary cook-off between Los Angeles & New York, I contend  that LA's only got one thing on NYC as far as food goes - sushi.  But that's all changed now that Sasabune has graced Manhattan with its sacred, signature omakase.  After spending years as the protégé to Nobi, the sushi master behind Sushi Sasabune, a top-rated LA sushi spot, Kenji has made good on his promise, quietly opening a sushi sanctuary of his own on the Upper East Side.  While Sushi of Gari paved the way for destination dining in the name of avant-garde sushi, Sasabune will undoubtedly prove fierce competition for Gari, who's busy opening up spinoffs around the city.  While both chefs seem equally as vigilant about perfectly-cooked sushi rice as they are about their "top-secret" homemade sauces, Sasabune goes to greater and perhaps, more traditional measures, to top off warm nibbles of rice with extraordinarily fresh fish.  A one-man show, sushi chef Kenji starts his day at 4:30 AM, scouring the fish market for the highest grade fish money can buy.

Tucked into a non-descript storefront on 73rd Street, it's clear from the moment you walk in the door that Sasabune isn't about the atmosphere or the social scene.  The modest, minimally accented space – white-washed walls, a wood sushi bar, and a few orchids – has seating for 12 in the front room, 6 seats at the sushi bar, and 15 more in an adjoining back room.  The only notable furbishings are two signs that read: "Today's Special - Trust Me" and "No Spicy Tuna & No California Roll".  Trust me refers to Sasabune’s omakase, which translates to chef’s choice.  Thus, as far as special requests or non-sushi offerings, don’t bother to request any; miso soup, salad, edamame, or any Americanized fusion roll of sorts isn't available on the menu.  I still remember the first time I reluctantly ate “Trust Me” style in LA as my friend urgently whispered, ”Just eat what they put in front of you and don’t say anything.”  Sure, you’ll feel like Elaine in the infamous Soup Nazi episode, but just keep your head down and you’ll quickly get the hang of it.

After you take your first glorious bite of albacore sashimi, divinely washed in a sweet puddle of homemade sauce - a secret concoction of ponzu, soy, wasabi and sake - you'll never see sushi the same again.  A heavenly procession of well-choreographed plates, Sasabune's omakase, is diligantly repeated every evening in LA, Honololu and happily now, on NYC’s UES.  Settle in for the next plate, a piece of supremely fresh piece of naked tuna sushi, toro when it's up to Kenji's standards, and another dressed in the same ponzu sauce that blessed the albacore sashimi.  The rest of the meal becomes a blur of exquisitely prepared pieces of kampachi, snapper, butterfish, and fluke, all served atop warm sushi rice.  Your server will indicate which pieces are meant to dunked in soy sauce and slathered with wasabi, and which ones aren't - these serve more as gentle rules than suggestions.  But truth be told, this delicate sushi needs no soy sauce at all, seeing as the fish itself, and even the rice itself are so bright and flavorful, they need no help at all.

Then there are those that come dressed already: a buttery salmon with pickled kelp and toasted sesame seeds; a snapper brightened up with a touch of lemon, lime pepper and salt; a silky amberjack with ponzu sauce and scallions. 

There’s no dessert, but the baked crab hand roll gives new meaning to a happy ending.  Besides, you’ll probably be too full to even consider sweets, that is, if you’re lucky enough to make it to the end of this symphony.  Put yourself in Kenji's hands for sushi so fantastical, words can't possibly do it justice.  Just trust me.   

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl

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In the spirit of not just eating, but also of dining out in support of restaurant newcomers, who have chosen to brave the joyfully overpopulated restaurant world in hopes of making an impression on the city's fickle palate, I snuck a peek at two of fall's newest food arrivals: Chat Noir & Goblin Market.  Both of these two newbies, smaller than the recent crop of mega-restaurants and thankfully devoid of over the top decor and staff with headsets, make you want to root for the little guy, or in the case of Chat Noir, the little woman.  Here's a look at Chat Noir (Goblin Market to follow next week):

CHAT NOIR
22 East 66 Street (btwn. Madison & 5th Aves.)
(212)794-2428
Savory NY video

TYPE: Classic French (seafood-heavy menu)
VIBE: A petite Balthazar with a feminine touch
OCCASION: Boutique retreat or UES social gathering 
DON'T MISS DISH: Salade chat noir
DON'T BOTHER DISH: Loup de mer
PRICE: $40 (with a cocktail)
HOURS: Dinner, Monday through Sunday, 5:30-11:30 PM; Lunch, Monday through Friday, 11:30 PM-3:30 PM; Cafe Dinner, Monday-Sunday, 3:30-5:30 PM; Brunch Saturday & Sunday, 11:30 AM-3:30 PM.
RESTAURANT GIRL RATES: (too new to review)
SEATING: 60 seats & 12 on the patio (now closed for the season)
INSIDE SCOOP: Their liquor license has just arrived!
FINAL WORD: If you're on the UES, graciously accept Suzanne Latapie's dinner invitation and let her play hostess for the evening.

After twelve years of running the show with her husband at ultra-sceney La Goulue, Suzanne Latapie has moved two blocks away, taking the chef, Sebastian Baud, and her loyal clientele with her, to open a French bistro of her own (they remain happily married).  With aspirations of luring Upper East Side locals and ladies who lunch, Suzanne creates a definitively feminine and warm French brasserie - dark wood floors, white walls & tablecloths, brass flower sconces, and a rotating collection of her husband's personal art collection - which make you feel more like you're dining in her home than a restaurant, albeit a fancy brownstone.

Though traditionally French, Chat Noir's menu is generously smattered with seafood offerings, I suspect a female-friendly gesture, and as Suzanne herself points out, even the meat in the roasted saddle of rabbit is "fat free".   Having dined at Chat Noir pre-liquor license, I was welcomed into her charming lair with a glass of champagne and partner, Quentin Dante's sincerest apologies for the inconvenience.  I went straight for the highly recommended wild salmon tartare, a refreshing and superior variation dotted with diced celery, apples and grapefruit segments, encircled by a lively citrus vinaigrette.  Though simple, the salade Chat Noir was memorable; a colorful melange of shaved mushrooms, radish and arugula doused with a creamy balsamic vinaigrette. 

Unfortunately, both entrees failed to satisfy.  While my dining partner ordered the steak frites medium rare, it arrived severely overcooked (beyond repair).  Instead, we focused our attention on the accompanying well-browned, sea salted french fries (I highly recommend them).  The loup de mer, a whole seared branzino with citrus vinaigrette, lacked that kick of flavor necessary to endure successive moans from nearby diners that often follow a head-on fish gesture.

I appropriately ended my meal with a homey and warm apple cobbler, partnered with a scoop of luscious vanilla ice cream.  It may not win any dessert contests, but it was a satisfying ending to the evening. 

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl

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