Kyo-Ya
*** Stars (Out of Four)
Address: 94 East 7th St., nr First Avenue
Phone: (212)982-4140
Cuisine: Eclectic Japanese with Kaiseki Tasting
Vibe: Serene , Subterranean Oasis
Occasion: Intimate date, tranquil escape, or craving Japan
Drink: Seasonal Sakes
Don't Miss: Grilled magret duck, chawan mushi, braised daikon in broth, & green tea creme brulee.
Don't Bother: Seasonal Tsukemono (Seasonal Pickles)

We spend so much time chasing after new restaurants we often forget about the ones that have managed to stick around long enough to no longer be considered new.   And as you know, in New York, that's no easy feat.  For my birthday, a friend was determined to take me for dinner somewhere I'd never been.   While I doubted the likelihood, I played along and headed down to 94 East 7th Street in the East Village to discover where I'd be dining.  
Aside from a sign that reads "Open", there is no name out front at all, just a staircase leading down to an unmarked entrance.   he building itself  looked like a typical, East Village walk-up with a hair salon on the street level and apartments above it.   But descend down the stairs, open the door, and you'll feel like you've left the island Manhattan and stepped foot into a serene, Japanese hideaway.  The  restaurant is called Kyo-ya, and no, I had never been.  The front hallway is paved with smooth pebbles and the sound of trickling water plays the part of the soundtrack.  Inside, there's a quaint, upfront dining room with glossy wood floors and only six tables, a sushi bar,  private dining rooms and another sushi bar tucked into the rear of the restaurant.  Considering my infatuation with Japanese cooking, I couldn't help but wonder how this tiny oasis had stayed off my radar for so long.  The clientele at Kyo-ya is mostly Japanese and the menu is what I'd call eclectic Japanese -- a combination pub (izakaya), sushi bar and traditional restaurant with a special focus on kaiseki, which must be ordered two days in advance.   Kaiseki is the Japanese version of a tasting menu, originally created to complement the traditional tea ceremony, but these days tea isn't obligatory.  What you can except is a multi-course meal with something uncooked (like sashimi or seasonal pickles), something simmered (perhaps noodles), grilled (duck), fried (tempura) and then, of course, dessert.  The kaiseki at Kyo-ya is an elegant procession of plates and a just as elegant,  but thankfully informal spot to experience it in.  

If you forget to pre-order the kaiseki or make a last-minute  reservation, there's plenty of terrific a la carte dishes.   I actually recommend ordering a la carte on your first visit, so you can build your own tasting menu of small plates.  Kyo-ya only serves sake, but the list is extensive and interesting  with several seasonal offerings, all served in elegant, one-of-a-kind glassware.  But what makes a meal here so special is the profound attention to ingredients, detail and presentation.  Order a simple Kyoto salad and you'll receive a delicate arrangement of julienned radish, carrots and sprouts with a creamy garlic dressing that looks more like art than dinner.   I have never paid such close attention to daikon, which can admittedly taste bland, and is often used as a garnish to prop up pieces of sashimi.  At Kyo-ya, the chef steeps the daikon in a simple, yet tremendously flavorful dashi broth with nappa greens.   As crazy as it sounds, it's one of the simplest pleasures I've had in years. (True story.)   It's dishes like these that make you slow down in adoration of ingredients, especially seasonal ones.    There's a wonderful palm tree heart and fiddlehead fern tempura that reminds you why transient produce, like ferns, are hyped in the first place.   A steamy cup of chawanmushi (egg custard) comes laced with scallops, scallions, chicken and sweet strands of crab meat.  I also loved the seafood shutoan, which must be Japanese for bits of shrimp, scallops and crab, coated in a thick and briny bonito sauce.   Really, the only appetizers I didn't fall for are the tile fish mousse,which is pretty to look at, but faint of flavor, and a paltry portion of seasonal pickles with green beans and daikon.   Apart from those, there's plenty of great dishes, like thinly sliced, grilled duck, tender and sweet, sprinkled with Mongolian salt for crunch as well as a unique composition of sea urchin over an ethereal mixture of tofu skin and clear sauce.
 
Don't neglect the sushi offerings either, many of which are caught in very local waters.  In fact, the sea bass sashimi is from New Brunswick, New Jersey and I swear on  my life it's excellent -- delicate, fresh and subtly sweet.   The  sashimi and pressed sushi offerings change according to the seasons, but right now they're serving yellow fin tuna from Boston, a buttery Tasmanian sea trout, marinated mackerel and hokai octopus.  For dessert,  I suggest the green tea  creme brulee, exceedingly creamy and balanced alongside a cup of roasted green tea. 

For me, Kyo-ya is as close as you'll get to Japan and as far as you'll get out of the city without leaving the island of Manhattan.

I always thought that the "scene" didn't matter, at least where dinner is concerned.  I'd rather eat amazing food in a dismal room than dismal food in an amazing room.  But when I stepped into the garden room at Imperial No. 9, I abandoned my philosophy before I even opened the menu.  What the restaurant refers to as the garden room looks more like an opulent greenhouse with crystal chandeliers, dangling from a glass ceiling and potted plants scattered around the room.  The wire chairs are painted a powder blue and there's a mirrored communal table in the center of the room.  There's a long oak bar along one side of the dining room and a cottage swing near the entrance, that you can swing on it while you wait for your table. And there's another, more substantial bar and a second dining room, trimmed with the same, glittery chandeliers and mirrored tables, but the garden room is the one you want to request when you make a reservation.  (If you don't, you'll spend the evening wishing you were sat in the other room.)  Imperial No. 9 is tucked inside the stylish, new Mondrian Hotel in Soho, and on weekends, the  hotel lobby is often packed, so it's most civilized to go on weekdays.

The cocktails at Imperial No. 9 are just as sexy as the garden room.  It's hard to distinguish your cocktail menu these days. Almost everyone's making their own bitters, infusing their own spirits and using fresh fruit.  Yet, John Lermayer ups the ante with inventive touches. like cucumber foam, chai cordials and aloe juice.   Instead of cutesy names, the drinks have numbers.  I ordered the No. 5, a wonderful twist on a gin martini with a splash of St. Germain, dry vermouth, and aromatic bitters.  While I'm not typically a fan of sweet cocktails, I also loved the No. 4,  a frothy, balanced mix of of kiwi vodka, lime juice and egg whites, sweetened with agave nectar. We snacked on cauliflower fritters with a crazy creamy ricotta center and garnished with a sunflower seed brittle and balsamic.    

The menu is the work of Sam Talbot of Top Chef fame, which tends to stir debate whether he can really cook or if he's just a pretty face.  While the food is good at Surf Lodge in Montauk, it wasn't unforgettable or overly ambitious.  Besides, the scene comes first at Surf Lodge.  At Imperial No. 9, the men is dubbed  "sustainable American seafood," but there are plenty of global influences, including the Middle East with harissa-braised chickpeas and raita (excellent) or spicy cucumber kimchee.  Though, it's more of a mild, quick kimchee than the pungent, Korean version. We started with incredibly plump, battered oysters, mingled with crispy nibbles of ham and a salty-sweet chow chow (vegetable relish), which made your garden variety fried oysters seem like a real snooze.  There's raw hiramasa (yellowtail amberjack), dabbed with frozen coconut, chili water, and a rich, black rice vinegar -- an original combination that brought out the best in the delicate fish without overpowering it.  The slow-cooked octopus was ridiculously tender and moist, bathed in a flavorful jalapeno soffrito, lime and soy -- one of the best octopus dishes I've had period.

Oddly enough, one of my favorite dishes on the menu is the toasted cous cous, scattered with charred squash, a perfectly runny poached egg, and shards of pecorino. Mix it all together and  you have a marvelous, Mediterranean bibimbap.  Talbot seems to be settling in quickly and taking more chances: He opened with an entree of scallops with ricotta and pickled melon (a carryover from Surf Lodge), but on my next visit the scallops came with a deeply smoky ragout of clams with lardons, that left much more of an impression on our table.  Still, there are some missteps and inconsistencies.  The king crab legs a la plancha are huge and cooked a la plancha, which makes the fact that they're drenched in an overly sweet, sweet-sour butter all the more devastating.  And while I loved the grits with shrimp, cheddar and maple jus the first time around, the same dish arrived watery and bland on my second visit.

Skip the grits and order dessert instead.  There's a great, salted caramel ice cream, dusted in sweet popcorn powder, a warm, trio of cookies, and a knockout arrangement of banana bread pudding and honeycomb semifreddo, drizzled with nutella that easily compels a return trip.  With Imperial No 9, Sam Talbot has proved he's not just a pretty face, but rather one to watch.

Imperial No. 9
Address: 9 Crosby St., nr Grand St.
Phone: (646)218-6455
Cuisine: Sustainable Seafood
Vibe: Chic Greenhouse Effect
Occasion: Date, Group Dinner, Fun Night Out
Don't Miss: Slow-Cooked Octopus, Crispy Oysters, Banana Bread Pudding
Don't Bother:
Drink: No. 4 (Gin Cocktail)

Wow, they must have sunk a fortune into this place. That's the first thing that comes to mind when you step foot inside Junoon and find yourself standing in front of a tranquil reflecting pool. This new Indian restaurant, located on the outskirts of Madison Square Park, literally looks like a palace. The bar room alone is bigger than most restaurants, ornamented with antique teak swings, glossy marble floors and high ceilings. While the cocktails at  ethnic restaurants tend to be gimmicky, these are both elegant and creative -- a martini with a splash of vermouth and garam masala or a beautifully balanced "Agave Thyme" cocktail with rum and a fresh sprig of thyme. A long walkway leading to the dining room is trimmed with 200-year old arched gates and hand-carved sculptures from India.  There's a glassed-in spice room just downstairs  where you can watch chefs ground spice blends.  And how many restaurants have you been to with a meditation room for employees?  You can't help but feel like you're dining in a museum, except for the Indian music playing in the background and bewitching aromas wafting from the open kitchen in the main dining room.  

Junoon is a looker. It's also a very big gamble. Sure, it seem small (or at least smaller) compared to neighboring Eataly (which is right across the street), but it's lofty and so is the menu.  Truth be told, you can't help but worry for them and pray the food's worth the high price tag.  While many of the flavors and spices are from traditional Indian palette, the cooking is modern and refined.  It's also phenomenal.  The chef, Vikas Khanna, cooked at Salaam Bombay before taking over Junoon's kitchen. The menu features regional Indian dishes, using classic techniques, which include the tandoor oven, hot stones, cast iron, fire pit, and curry cooking.  The result is bubbly, beautifully charred naan, housemade paneer spiced with garam masala (ground in-house) with cashew nuts and cream, and monkfish tikka with yogurt, chiles and mustard seed. 

One of my favorite dishes on the menu was the lobster tandoori, an wondrously moist lobster tail, served in its shell, and spiced with a fragrant blend of cumin, cayenne and lemon. The crowning touch is a fennel glaze, which lends the lobster meat a sweet, aromatic flavor that plants itself firmly in your memory for days.  And the piri-piri shrimp is nearly as delicious.  The shrimp are bathed in a hot chile sauce, flavored with parsley, lemon, garlic and cilantro, which on its own is undeniably spicy, but here is tempered by a delicately sweet, meyer lemon vinaigrette that they should sell by the bottle.  The flavors are all clean and sharp, and yet, beautifully balanced by each other.

The cooking is slightly reminiscent of Floyd Cardoz' work at the newly and sadly shuttered Tabla.  But while Cardoz' cooking is whimsical and often interpretative Indian food, Khannas seems more rooted in tradition with a focus on simplicity.  If you're craving family-style portions with lots of gravy, you won't find it at Junoon.  Instead, you get artfully plated lamb chops, spiced with pepper, green cardamom and ginger, a perfectly molded tower of mango chutney, or homemade lamb sausage with a snappy casing and moist, finely spiced interior. There's paneer drizzled with mint sauce, garam masala-crusted cauliflower and an outstanding rendition of saag, the Indian answer to creamed spinach, except this version is mixed with cauliflower, coriander, fenugreek and gobs of garlic. Oh, and the table agreed that the five-lentil daal was the best daal we'd ever had -- creamy and luxurious, and yet earthy and comforting. 

Really, my only complaint was the halibut in a coconut curry, which was a tad overcooked, and the "seasonal chutneys," a trio of sesame, tamarind... and tomato?  Since when are tomatoes in season in December?  The sweet & sour tamarind and nutty sesame with fresh baked paratha easily made up for the tomato chutney. 
For dessert, we shared shared the date pudding cake (pictured right), a moist, yet surprisingly light cake with a tart cranberry reduction and a luscious orange buttermilk ice cream with bright citrus undertones. 

So maybe Junoon wasn't such a big gamble.  After all, every great chef needs a proper stage.  With its rising star chef, Vikas Khannas, this just may just be the next best Indian restaurant.      
 
Junoon
Address: 27 West 24th St., btwn 6th & Broadway
Phone: (212)490-2100

*** - Three Stars

 Address: 308-310 Bleecker St., at Grove St.

Phone: (212)675-2009 

Cuisine: Chesapeake seafood

Vibe: Refined neighborhood joint 

Occasion: Oyster binge; Casual date; Group dinner.

Hours: Seven days a week. Dinner, Sun-Wed, 5:30p.m.-12a.m., Thu-Sat, 5:30p.m.-2a.m.

Don't Miss Dish: Arctic Char; Fried chicken; Bay leaf sorbet. 

Average Price: Appetizers, $10 ; Entrees, $20; Dessert, $7.

Reservations: Reservations recommended.

Capsule: Fine fish shack fare & terrific fried chicken in the West Village  

You used to have to wait patiently for summer to arrive to get your  fix of crab chowder, peel 'n eat shrimp, and Old Bay seasoned fries.  Not anymore.   It may be February and freezing, but fish shack fare is in fashion right now.   Choptank, located in the West Village, is the latest in a string of newcomers.   If you wanted a lobster roll a few years ago, you had Pearl Oyster Bar, Grand Central, & Mary's Fish Camp.  That's it.  Now, there's plenty of respectable lobster rolls, including Ed's, Luke's, Mermaid Inn, & Ditch Plains. 

Choptank doesn't have a lobster roll on the menu.  It's New York's first Maryland fish shack.  That translates to crab chowder, crab claws, and Chesapeake Bay oysters.   The kitchen also turns out an excellent crab cake with lots of fresh crabmeat and and almost no breading.   Maryland is famous for its blue crab.  When blue crab season begins in June, Choptank will also have lots of blue crab and an outdoor patio to enjoy it on.  Choptank is a little less laidback, more of an urbane fish shack, minus the plastic bibs,  and handiwipes.  The dining room is outfitted with dark wood floors and tables, white marble bartops, and light fixtures cloaked in burlap fish netting.  There's a large oyster bar with plenty of seats if you want to spend the evening sampling oysters and tables in the main dining room.  There's a concise, but good selection of West and East coast oysters  (My favorites were the Chesapeake Bay variety.)

One of the best things on the menu is actually the fried chicken.   The first time I had the chef's fried chicken was at Bussaco in Park Slope, Brooklyn.   There, Matthew Schaefer served it with waffles and an apple-onion butter.   Here, he serves it alongside an intriguing black pepper honey and sauteed collard greens.  Schaefer, who trained at Le Bernardin, also brought over his fancy version of crab chowder, which tastes like a creamy crab consomme bacon and chives.   Other than that, this is a new menu for the chef and it isn't just seafood.   There's a house burger, bistro steak, Polish sausage and a pretzel, and bone marrow with winter lettuces and onion marmalade. 

My favorite dish is the braised octopus with paprika and potatoes.   It's not easy to make good octopus because you often have to make sacrifices.  You either take a crispy exterior for a dry interior or vice versa, but this one manages to crispy, yet moist, tossed with a pepper confit with a nice kick.   I like the roasted wild mushrooms glossed with a warm, egg yolk and an excellent arctic char, cooked medium rare, and poised over lentils with bacon.

Not everything is perfect.  I'd skip over a snooze of a salad tossed with a few pecans, apricots, and no detectable dressing.  The fish tacos were standard issue, but could've used more fried shrimp, and the brussel sprouts were undercooked and underseasoned.  But the pro's definitely outweigh the cons at Choptank.  If you order right, you can have a great meal and unique cocktails that go well with seafood, like the Tempest made with prosecco, vodka, and prosecco or their version of the classic British Shandy Das Shandy, made with German beer, bitter lemon soda, and a lemon peel.   The only worthwhile dessert was first for me -- an invigorating Bay Leaf sorbet that was like a fuller bodied palate cleanser.

*** - 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.