Barraca

Note: Jesús Núñez has left Barraca and its sister restaurant, Melibea. Alex Ureña has replaced him.

*

I was a big fan of Gastroarte, chef Jesús Núñez’s avant-garde Spanish restaurant near Lincoln Center. But his work there was too edgy for the neighborhood, and critics found his cooking uneven. Earlier this month, Núñez re-surfaced at Barraca, where he doesn’t challenge diners as much—and if he did, would probably find a more receptive audience.

It’s your typical attractive downtown space, with dark wood tables, bright blue seats, wood pillars, timber beams, and exposed brick. Miraculously, on a Friday evening it was not as loud as such places usually are, even though the 80-seat dining room was nearly full.

The menu fits on one sheet of paper, featuring a dozen tapas ($6–12), a similar number of salads and vegetable dishes ($6–12), cheeses and charcuterie ($12–32), six varieties of paella ($19–27), just a few entrées ($23–30), and four desserts ($7–9).

The paellas take about 25 minutes, and in the meantime the server suggested six tapas to share. I’d say that’s on the high side, unless you’re quite hungry; we ordered four.

  

The tapas are the chef’s best work: the Croquetas ($9; above left; top); Esparragos (White Asparagus) with anchovies and vegetable vinaigrette ($7; above left; bottom); Albondigas, or meatballs, in a vegetable sauce ($10; above middle); and a spicy Setas Alajillo, a stew of sautéed mushrooms in a garlic sauce with pork sausage ($10; above right).

Paellas are served for a minimum of two people, but the kitchen will prepare different varieties of paella in a large skillet with a cast-iron divider between the two halves. (I’ve seen some photos with the skillet divided in three.)

We tried the Paella Roja de Carabineros (several varieties of shrimp and prawns in a shrimp stock) and the Paella de Tierra (chicken, rabbit, pork belly, pork ribs, string beans and fava beans), $27 and $23 respectively. We found both too salty and greasy, and the rice at the bottom lacked the right crusty crunch. In the Paella de Tierra, the various meats were mostly indistinguishable, aside from the pork belly, which stood out (as it always does).

The Coca de Chocolate ($9; above) was one of the more unusual desserts we’ve had in a while, a crisped tortilla covered in chocolate, topped with berries and cream. We’d certainly order this again.

The wine list is not extensive at this point, but we did well with a 2006 Rioja Riserva for $46. Service was fine, and if only the chef could get the paellas in order, this place would be just about perfect. Still, there is much to enjoy here, and I suspect it will only get better.

Barraca (81 Greenwich Avenue at Bank Street, West Village)

Food: Inventive tapas and paellas, mostly well prepared (especially the former)
Service: Casual and just fine for what it is
Ambiance: Attractive garden-variety West Village casual

Rating: ★★

SD26

Note: Owner Tony May sold SD26 in March 2015. The new owners expect to remodel the space, and re-open it under a new name. In three visits to SD26 and its predecessor, San Domenico, I never had a wholly satisfactory meal. In this, my final review, I gave it zero stars. For an appreciation from someone whom I respect, check out The Pink Pig’s closing retrospective.

*

Remember SD26? Yeah, we’d forgotten it too.

I won’t rehash the whole background (see my 2009 review). In brief: faced with a $600,000 rent increase on Central Park South (in the space that’s now Marea), restaurateurs Tony and Marisa May (father and daughter) moved their downtown, to 26th Street at Madison Park.

What had been the somewhat stodgy, old-school, and not-very-good San Domenico, became the trying-to-be-hip, and still-not-great, SD26. Sam Sifton gave it one star in The Times. Some liked it better, but I don’t recall any outright raves. The chef left. Eater.com put it on deathwatch.

Three years after the move, and two years post-deathwatch, SD26 is hanging on, perhaps even thriving. It’s a Saturday evening, and the bar is thumping: a really unplesant place, where you struggle to get a bartender’s attention, and frankly you wouldn’t want a drink there anyway. The dining room is far more appealing, and well on the way to a nearly-full house, with a crowd of all ages. If the owners’ plan was to broaden the customer base, they’ve succeeded.

I called Massimo Vignelli’s interior design “stunning” last time I was here. I retract that. On a second look, it strikes me as a dining room designed by committee, one that cannot decide exactly whom it is trying to please. Some tables have tablecloths; others don’t. Some have chairs with backs; others don’t. Many of the design elements clash. It’s not a terrible room, but if I’d spent $7 million on it (as the Mays did), I wouldn’t be happy.

We ordered the five-course tasting menu at $85 per person.

 

The bread service is a highlight at this restaurant, with four kinds offered; we had the focaccia (above right).

 

The food came rather quickly, delivered by servers who were in such a hurry that they twice forgot to describe the dishes they’d just dropped off. I believe the first appetizer (above left) was a Sweet and Sour Mackerel, which we rather liked. Fettucine with lamb ragu (above right) had an appealing spicy kick.

 

Sea bass (above left) was poached, and served in a soup with zucchini, cous cous, tomato, and spicy broth.

A wheel-shaped serving of rabbit (above right) was a substantial failure, both dry and flavorless, with root vegetables that we could barely taste, and not much helped by an asparagus purée. It was a disappointing end to a meal that was, until that point, going well.

 

Dessert was just fine, a tartina (above left) with orange sauce and chocolate ice cream, followed by petits fours (above right).

Prices here are basically in line with all of the city’s top-tier Italian spots, except for the four-star Del Posto, which is in a league of its own. Otherwise, for similar amounts of food, you’ll pay about the same at Marea, Ai Fiori, Babbo, Lincoln, Felidia, or Ciano, within a few dollars.

But I’ve never visited SD26 or its predecessor, San Domenico, without experiencing at least one severe fumble—in this instance, the terrible rabbit dish served near the end of our tasting menu. All restaurants make mistakes, but there’s a pattern here. SD26 is capable of turning out great food, but you cannot count on it.

For its price point, the service is acceptable but not particularly good. We spotted Marisa May, but not Tony. She visited a number of tables, but apparently only those where she knew the diners. (She lingered quite a while at those tables.)

The wine list is a bright spot, running to hundreds of bottles. The iPad wine list functions better than the no-name electronic gizmo they had last time I visited, and the sommelier provided better service than any of the various captains and runners who rushed by our table. You could spend thousands, but the 2009 Valpolicella Superiori to which she steered us, at just $60, was excellent at the price.

I’ve written before that upscale Italian is the most over-represented genre in the city, having supplanted what upscale French used to be. If there were a French restaurant like SD26, I’d fret about its inconsistency, but I’d still consider it essential. There is no need to do that for Italian cuisine. There’s at least a half-dozen other places in town with nicer dining rooms and more consistent food, at about the same price.

It’s a pity that Tony and Marisa May can’t get their act together.

SD26 (19 E. 26th Street at Madison Square Park)

Food: Modern Italian cuisine that’s excellent, except when it isn’t
Wine: The highlight, a list hundreds of bottles deep
Service: Too sloppy, considering the price
Ambiance: A high-gloss modern over-thought room, designed by committee

Rating: Not Recommended
Why? So many others in its price range are more reliable

La Marina

I don’t often write about restaurants in my own neighborhood, as very few would interest my readers: if you don’t live nearby, you wouldn’t go.

La Marina, at the Dyckman Street pier, is the rare Washington Heights/Inwood restaurant that gets mainstream media attention. Mayor Bloomberg attended the opening ribbon-cutting ceremony. Beyonce and Jay-Z were spotted there in September, and earlier in the summer, Leonardo DiCaprio. I don’t know if those visits were “procured” or genuine.

The Dyckman Street marina was once a place where the wealthy kept their yachts, back when Washington Heights was considered “out of town.” The area lost its luster long ago. Parking is free, but if you walk from the subway, you face several distressed blocks that have seen better days, to put it nicely.

It took took the owners five years to develop this new hotspot, which occupies 75,000 square feet and supposedly seats 500, although a server said they had thousands on some summer evenings. Next year, they’ll add a marina with 22 slips, but there’s already a restaurant, two bars, a lounge, an open pavilion, and a small beach. There are spectacular views of the George Washington Bridge and the Pallisades.

The photo above (from the website) is what the dining room looks like, though by the time we visited in early October, the outdoor dining season was over. The windows were closed, and there was a live band at the back of the room.

The named chef, Pierre Landet, is also the executive chef at Cercle Rouge, a decent French brasserie in Tribeca. His abilities seem largely wasted here, where the short, bland menu is phoned in: steak, salmon, a burger, a caesar salad. That’s not much more to it.

Service glitches abound. Though reservation times on OpenTable were wide open on a Saturday evening, we waited 30 minutes for our table. We ordered a dozen oysters to start; they never came. Want to speak to a server? Even waving one’s arms vigorously in the cavernous room is not sufficient to attract attention.

There’s not much to the wine list. What there is of it, is over-priced and not very good. Most guests here drink cocktails.

 

Steak Frites (above left) and grilled salmon (above right) were acceptable specimens for a neighborhood spot. But there’s nothing else here I want to try, nor would I care to endure the lackadaisical service.

La Marina (348 Dyckman Street at the Hudson River, Washington Heights)

Food: A minimal, phoned-in menu
Service: Not diligent; lackadaisical
Ambiance: Beach club meets nightclub, with great river views

Rating: Not recommended
Why? The food is clearly an afterthought here

Hakkasan

Hakkasan is a restaurant practically designed for the New York critics to hate. It’s the tenth branch of an international chain, and the critics seldom have much love for imports. Parts of the menu could almost be considered arrogantly expensive: Peking Duck with Caviar, $295. And it’s built in a “big box” style that hit its apogee in the early aughts, but is now very much passé.

Critics be damned, Hakkasan opened on the eastern edge of Hell’s Kitchen. Damn it, they did. Adam Platt of New York awarded no stars, calling it “Ruby Foo’s for Rich People.” The Post’s Steve Cuozzo gave half a star, calling it “all wet.” Pete Wells of The Times gave it one star, complaining that “prices are too high for extremely restrained portions of food that is, in too many cases, about as interesting as a box of paper clips.”

Then there’s Michelin, the tire man, which gave it one star—the equivalent, on their scale, of two or three stars on the other guys’ systems. The original Hakkasan in London is starred too. I was there six years ago, and for the most part enjoyed my meal.

Here in New York, Hakkasan is a hair too expensive for what it is, and the dining room feels like a Meatpacking District attrocity gone haywire. But the food is very good.

Prices are skewed by a handful of trophy dishes for hedge fund babies and oil barons. Scratch those from the list, and you’re left with prices that are certainly dear, but not downright crazy. Dover Sole in XO Sauce is the most expensive of the “normal” entrées. It’s $46, but you’d pay about that much at any serious restaurant.

Not counting a few outliers, soups and appetizers are $9–26, with most $20 or less. Meat, fish, and poultry entrées are generally in the range of $24–39, with vegetarian and tofu dishes $14–21 and rice dishes $9–18.

We began with the dim sum platter ($24; above), which got a shout out in The Times last week (and even Pete Wells had liked it). According to the published menu, you get two apiece of scallop shumai, har gau, prawn and Chinese chive dumpling, and black pepper duck dumpling. We didn’t take notes, but found the selection as enjoyable as it was colorful.

(There are several other dumpling assortments offered, but you can’t pick and choose from individual varieties, as you can at a traditional dim sum parlor.)

 

The kitchen did a first-class job with a sumptuous braised Maine lobster with noodles in a so-called (slightly spicy) Royal Supreme sauce ($31; above left). The Pipa duck ($32; above right) is in essence half of a Peking Duck without the pancakes or plum sauce, with a crisp skin and luscious layers of fat.

The bill for two came to about $200 before tip, including wine—not a bargain, but the food was well above run-of-the-mill Chineese food. I didn’t look at the wine list, but cocktails, in keeping with the evening’s theme, were well made, but a couple of dollars above par: order the smoky Negroni ($17).

The service is not as coddling as it ought to be at these prices. A host walks you to a seat at the bar, but getting a drink ordered and delivered is too much of a hassle. Service isn’t bad at the tables, but the staff’s attentiveness befits an establishment charging only half as much.

The clubby space isn’t my cup of tea, but the music isn’t so loud that it precludes conversation. The food is compelling, and worth a try if you don’t mind the tariff.

Hakkasan (311 W. 43rd Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues, Hell’s Kitchen)

Food: Modern Chinese cuisine, skillfully prepared, but at a cost
Service: Good enough, but it ought to be better
Ambiance: A clubby space that would have been chic ten or twelve years ago

Rating: ★★
Why? The food is worthwhile, even if the space isn’t my taste 

Christos Steakhouse

It’s not often that I’m wowed at a steakhouse — there are so many, and they’re mostly interchangeable.

Christos Steak House in Astoria, Queens, commands attention. It serves a porterhouse very near the best specimens available in Manhattan. Appetizers and side dishes are also first-rate, and go well beyond steakhouse clichées.

As always, full disclosure: we dined here at the restaurant’s invitation and didn’t pay for our meal. But my endorsement of comped meals is no guarantee, as a few dismayed publicists will attest. My rave for Christos is genuine.

The restaurant was Christos Hasapo-Taverna originally; the name changed in 2006, after a remodeling job. Its Greek roots are still apparent in the appetizers, while the entrées and sides resemble those of a traditional steakhouse. Mina Newman is executive chef, sharing time with the Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. She has also worked at Layla and Dylan Prime, and won an episode of the cable series Chopped in 2009.

You’ll find all of the traditional cuts of prime beef (aged in-house for 21 days), along with the usual backup entrées (chicken, rack of lamb, salmon, etc.). In February, the restaurant added a number of lower-priced dishes to the menu, including—as the chef put it—“long forgotten cuts that butchers once reserved for themselves.”

So there’s a Callotte Steak (the deckle of the ribeye) at $22, a Bavette D’Aloyau (“where the t-bone ends and the sirloin begins”) at $21, skirt steak at $28 (or $52 for two), and “the Wedge” (a cross-section of filet, culotte, and tri-tip) at $25 per person — all aged prime.

For the more popular cuts, you’ll pay Manhattan prices, but you’ll get the Queens pricing curve on the rest of the menu. Salads and appetizers are $11–19 (most below $15). There’s a wide selection of side dishes, almost all $8. A few of the non-steak entrées look like notably good deals, such as the chicken ($19) and the pork chop ($22), but we didn’t sample them.

The wine list is not especially deep. You won’t leave thirsty, but you won’t find pages and pages of trophy Cabs and Bordeaux, as you do at some of the better-known Manhattan steakhouses.

 

I wish we could have tried more, but we loved both of the appetizers we sampled. The Lamb Cigar ($12; above left) is wrapped in fillo and served with a zesty roasted pepper yogurt sauce. The Lamb Bacon “Cobb” Salad ($12; above right) was delightful: tomato, bleu cheese, red onion, and avocado, topped with a soft poached egg.

We probably should have been less selfish, and tried the unusual cuts of beef. Instead, we went straight for the porterhouse ($94). We loved the husky crust and the dry-aged taste. The textural contrast between the strip side (bottom of the photo) and the filet side was more pronounced than I recall from other porterhouses, but none the worse for that.

Lobster mashed potatoes were offered as a special. It’s one of the more remarkable side dishes I’ve encountered: potatoes whipped with hefty chunks of lobster.

One might argue philosophically whether a good lobster ought to be camouflaged in such humble clothing. I mean, would you whip potatoes with Beluga caviar? All I can say is, it worked.

But it’s a $28 side dish, and I wouldn’t blame anyone for calling it extravagant.

Obviously, since we were known to the management we got excellent service, but as far as we could tell our server paid similar attention to the other tables. The space is comfortable, decked out in dark wood paneling, like many other steakhouses. Near the entrance, raw steaks are on display in glass cases, and I believe you can buy them to take home.

For city-dwellers, the only drawback of Christos is getting there: the closest subway stop is about a 15-minute walk away (the Astoria–Ditmars Boulevard stop, served by the N and Q trains). By car, it’s only a few minutes from the Queens side of the RFK (Triboro) Bridge, and valet parking is free.

Christos Steak House (41–08 23rd Avenue at 41st Street, Astoria, Queens)

The Goodwin

 

Note: The Goodwin closed in April 2013. The space is now Piora.

*

The Goodwin is one of those cute West Village places that you find on every third block. Eater joked that it’s all of “2012’s dining trends wrapped into one new restaurant.” A few of those trends have been toned down — I didn’t spot market-price beef jerky or a “water program” — but most are as Eater described it.

The name, like so many new restaurants monikers these days, is obscure: it refers to the Goodwin family, who once operated a farm on the site, back when the Dutch still owned Manhattan. The building is a landmarked brownstone that was once a flophouse for visiting sailors.

The space is handsomely built-out in reclaimed wood, and the main dining room (called “The Grange”) looks out on a lovely outdoor garden. None of these ideas are original, but at least they’re tastefully carried out.

The Goodwin doubles as a restaurant and wine bar. The wine list isn’t long and it has no particular focus, but it’s affordable: of forty bottles, most are under $50, and about three-fourths of them are available by the glass. (The 2007 Sangiovese blend, above left, was $48 for the bottle.)

The chef is Jesse Olguin, who previously was the executive sous chef at Benoit, and prior to that, chef de cuisine at Robert at the Museum of Art & Design. His menu here is in three categories, two of which are Starters ($8–14) and Appetizers ($9–16), which at most restaurants are synonymous. Entrées are priced in a wide range, $16 (the burger) to $32 (the steak). In this neighborhood, you’d call that mid-priced. I wouldn’t mind paying a dollar or two more for a better bread service than just a plate of flatbreads (above right).

We shared “The Vegetable Experience” ($15; above), a strange appetizer that could also serve as a vegan’s entrée. It’s a bounty of smoked, roasted, pickled, steamed, salt-baked and sautéed local organic vegetables. Though well prepared, it’s too much of a good thing: we didn’t finish it.

 

The roasted half-chicken ($25; above left) and the pork chop ($31; above right) are typical dishes at such an establishment. Both were pretty good, but I’d give the nod to the chicken.

We reserved an early Saturday evening table the same day, but later on it was full. The crowd had a slice of every demographic. With business still brisk four months after opening, you have to figure that people in the neighborhood are coming back, as they should. I’d prefer the earlier times, before it gets loud and the server a bit harder to flag down. But I’d certainly come back if I were nearby.

The Goodwin (430 Hudson Street between Morton & Leroy Streets, West Village)

Food: Mid-priced American seasonal bistro cuisine
Wine: Not a long list, but 30 wines by the glass, and many bottles below $50
Service: Good, but less attentive as the place fills up
Ambiance: A reclaimed wood dining room backed by a lush garden

Rating: ★
Why? Not special enough to be a destination, but nice for what it is 

Auden

Auden is the new restaurant in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel on Central Park South, in the space that used to be BLT Market, and before that Atelier. The name is Old English for “old friend,” and has nothing to do with the poet W. H. Auden.

The new décor, from starchitect David Rockwell, is in the muscular, country club style that he has deployed all over town. It’s a comfortable, upscale but not fancy space, more suited to a business meeting than a romantic night out.

The chef, Mark Arnao, comes from a career of hotel gigs. The menu trumpets a commitment to local produce, in a fashion that is now so commonplace that it’s old hat.

This is the Ritz, and you’re going to pay a premium for the privilege of dining here. Appetizers are $18–23, entrees $32–46, side dishes $10–12. Cocktails are $18, and you’ll pay north of $60 for most bottles of wine.

What you’ll get is standard American bistro cuisine. Though not at all inventive or adventurous, the food is well prepared, as it ought to be at these prices. But in other neighborhoods, without the Central Park premium, you can find similar quality for $20–30 less per person.

The meal begins with an excellent bread service, a tray of warm rolls (above left).

 

The Flatbread ($22; above left) is made with heirloom tomatoes, Buffalo mozzarella, crushed olives, and fried capers. It’s an enjoyable dish that two could easily share. I didn’t try my friend’s Duck Confit and Chicory Salad ($23; above right), but he wasn’t especially impressed with it.

 

We both had the barbecue beef short ribs ($36; above left) in a roasted shallot sauce, a good enough dish if only you can forget how expensive it is. For reference, Il Buco Alimentari offers a better short rib dish for $38, and theirs serves two. However, Il Buco doesn’t serve it with the Auden Frites (above right), which are excellent.

Little pieces of chocolate on lollipop sticks (right) are what pass for petits fours.

The service was polite, friendly and efficient—as it ought to be. Really, there’s nothing much to complain of at Auden. There’s a steep price premium for dining on Central Park South, but you’ll pay that at any of the various hotels in the area.

Auden (The Ritz-Carlton Hotel, 50 Central Park South at Sixth Ave., West Midtown)

Food: Expensive American bistro cuisine
Service: Crisp, efficient, competent
Ambiance: A masculine, clubby hotel setting

Rating: ★
Why? If you must spend Central Park prices, you might as well do so here

Gaonnuri

You might think of Manhattan’s Koreatown as one nondescript low-class barbecue place after another. That would be unjust to one, at least: Gaonnuri, a new upscale spot with a $5+ million opening budget.

What did all that money buy? A stunning space on the 39th floor of a midtown office building, where Koreatown meets Herald Square. It’s the brainchild of architect Andy Sung, a native Korean, who saw the potential in a formerly windowless top-floor that once held ventilation and mechanical equipment.

Sung needs to sell a lot of barbecue to get that money back. Gaonnuri seats 250, and it was no more than 10 percent full on a recent evening, although the Post’s Steve Cuozzo found it busy at lunch.

It isn’t easily found. From the outside, there’s no indication that the building houses a restaurant. When you go in, a hostess checks your name on a reservation list, and only then allows you past the skyscraper’s security system, and onto the elevator.

It makes SHO Shaun Hergatt seem positively easy to get to, and we know how that turned out. Once you’re in, the décor is spectacular, but to some it may feel like a generic upscale Asian hotel restaurant (another charge unfairly leveled at Hergatt).

No one will complain about the unobstructed panoramas of the Empire State Building and the Hudson River. Cuozzo says that these are the best restaurant views since the Rainbow Room closed, and I’ve no reason to doubt him.

Prices are higher than the Koreatown average, but certainly not extortionate, as they tend to be at restaurants with views. The menu is lengthy and a bit confusing. There’s a list of cold and hot dishes that seem to be appetizers, but most of them come in small ($8–15) and large ($15–26) sizes.

Entrées, found on another page, are $15–28. Korean Barbecue is a separate listing, with individual portions $25–34 and platters for two at $60, $90, or $120. Hotpots are $50 for two people.

Cocktails ($10–13) and beers ($7–8) are comparatively inexpensive, and the wine list has plenty of bottles below $50. However, I chose an imported Korean bottled beverage, the Chamisul Fresh ($16; above right), which I can’t begin to describe.

We started with the Sanchae Bibimbap ($18), one of eight varieties of the dish offered here: a serving of mixed vegetables, shown in the photo (above) before it was mixed into a bowl of rice. It appears on the menu as an entrée, though we shared it as a starter.

Yes, I said it’s a bit confusing.

 

We ordered the $60 barbecue platter, which starts with a salad that resembles cole slaw (above left) and a spicy soup (above right).

 

There’s a wide variety of condiments and sauces (above left), and I didn’t photograph all of them, along with three meats (above right): beef brisket, pork belly, and galbi, a marinated beef short rib.

 

As at other Korean barbecue spots, there’s a grill built into every table. As the restaurant was fairly empty, the server cooked the food for us, although when it’s busy I assume this is left up to the customer. The food was excellent, with high-quality ingredients, well prepared.

Gaonnuri is only about a month old. Service is extremely attentive, but the kinks haven’t been worked out. Some of the servers can’t quite explain the menu—or at least, not in English. Bar tabs aren’t transferred to the table.

Is Gaonnuri for you? I didn’t mind spending $120 for two (before tip) for a comfortable, quiet dinner in a gorgeous space, with the best views in town. But you can go down the block, eat in a low-class space, with the food not as good, and spend a lot less. This is a Korean barbecue I’d go back to; the others aren’t.

How they expect to fill 250 seats every night is a good question.

Gaonnuri (1250 Broadway at 32nd Street, 39th Floor, Koreatown)

Food: Very good classic Korean cuisine, highlighted by the barbecue
Service: Attentive and doting, though still learning the rops
Ambiance: A stunning multi-million-dollar space with the best views in town

Rating: ★★
Why? Probably the best Korean barbecue in town, though you’ll pay up for it 

Salumeria Rosi (Upper West Side)

Note: Cesare Casella sold both Salumeria Rosi restaurants in October 2015. They remain open, but without his involvement.

*

I don’t know if it was luck or prescience, but when chef Cesare Casella opened Salumeria Rosi four years ago, his sense of the moment was pitch-perfect.

Casella copied a number of then-popular trends: the restaurant that doubles as a market; casual, tapas-style dining; and plates delivered randomly, “as and when they’re ready.” Those trends feel less worn-out here than they do at many other places.

In its early days, Salumeria Rosi often wasn’t available at the times we wanted to go (mainly pre-Lincoln Center). It dropped down, and then completely off our radar.

I’ve only lately noticed open tables at times I wanted to go. The recent opening of a new, considerably more upscale Salumeria Rosi on the Upper East Side, reignited my interest in the original spot.

The restaurant is a peculiar partnership with an Italian meat company called Parmacotto, operated by the Rosi family in Parma: hence, its full name, used by almost no one: Salumeria Rosi Parmacotto. It’s technically a chain, with outposts in Parma and Paris, but as far as I know, the cuisine here is entirely Casella’s.

The small-plates format often lends itself to over-ordering. You depend on the server to advise how much is enough, and they err to excess. That wasn’t the case here: the server suggested that we start with five items, which was exactly right for us; diners with larger appetites would probably need more.

The menu includes a large selection of cheeses ($6–8; selection $15), cured meets ($5–9; selections $17 or $26), salads and cooked items ($7–17), and desserts ($8). Just about all of it is available for take-out. If your table faces the market counter, you’ll see a steady stream of Upper West Siders all evening long, who buy meats and cheeses to carry home.

The wine list offers about fifty bottles (about 15–20 by the glass), many under $50, including the 2006 Negroamaro Vereto ($45; above right). I’ll leave the formal evaluation to others, but as far as price goes, this is the sort of wine list this restaurant should have.

 

After bread service (decent but nothing special), we started with Mortadella ($5; above right), a luscious pork sausage dappled with pork fat.

 

Insalata Misti ($9; above left) was routine, a phoned-in salad. Polpette (12; above right), were excellent. You know a restaurant is committed to a dish when it comes on a serving plate that couldn’t be used for anything else—here, plate shaped like a pair of goggles with a separate bowl for each meatball.

 

Farroto ($15; above left) — a risotto-like dish made with farro — was also very good, but the best dish of the evening was Pork Belly ($14; above right), with beautifully crisped skin and pork cracklings. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it with corn and spinach, an inspired pairing.

The Times never gave Salumeria Rosi a full review. In a dining brief, Frank Bruni praised the imported meats and cheeses, but found the space “cramped” and “[not] especially charming.” I suspect he might have a different view today: compared to other Italian market–restaurant places like Eataly and Il Buco Alimentari e Vineria, Salumeria Rosi is practically serene.

Still, it isn’t the spot for a leisurely or romantic meal. When you confirm your reservation, you’ll be told that there’s a 90-minute time limit on tables (a policy in place since early 2010). The restaurant lives up to its end of the bargain, sending out plates at a brisk pace.

One advantage of the kitchen’s speed, is that you needn’t decide up-front how much food you want to eat: start small and order more later if you need to (we didn’t). Still, there is a “wham-bam-thank you ma’am” feeling about dining here. It was fine for a pre-opera dinner, but if you want to linger, you should dine elsewhere.

The small dining room seats about 30. In good weather, there is also an outdoor café.

Salumeria Rosi (283 Amsterdam Avenue at 73rd Street, Upper West Side)

Food: Modern Italian, salumi, and cheeses, served tapas-style
Service: Friendly but very fast; perhaps too fast
Ambiance: A restaurant inside a market

Rating: ★
Why? Very good, clever Italian cuisine; some of the best salumi in town

83½

Note: The Skeen curse continues. 83½ closed (briefly) after just 4½ months in business. As noted in the comments (below), it has re-opened with a different chef, Will Foden, who is serving an Italian menu.

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I’m gonna try to write this post without making a bunch of Ryan Skeen jokes. It’s not easy. The chef has been linked to ten projects since 2008, many of which failed quickly (either the restaurant or Skeen’s involvement). In early 2012, he sat for an interview with Grub Street, clearly aware of his reputation for job-hopping. Taken individually, each failure has a logical explanation. Taken together, there is a shitload of them.

Welcome to Skeen Project #11, 83½, named for the restaurant’s location, halfway along 83rd Street between First and Second Avenues. The place has been open less than a month. Skeen hasn’t quit yet.

No one who knows Skeen’s history would predict a long life for this place. But at least it’s a lot different than most of his recent projects: a brand new, small dining room with 42 seats, where he’s the executive chef, and no one else’s culinary ego is competing with his.

Of course, there is still an owner to contend with, Vincenzo Mangiafridda Jr., who owns Gino’s Pizzeria next door. We weren’t sure if it was Vincenzo or his son who was perched at the bar on a recent Saturday evening, chatting with Ryan in the open kitchen and surveying the scene.

The one-page, focused menu is in four sections: Starting Course ($16), Sea Course ($17), Pasta Course ($18), and Large Courses ($27). But for one dish with a $5 supplement (the rack of lamb), every dish in a category costs the same.

This layout might prompt over-ordering. The server didn’t push that at all, though he did point out that some tables order a pastas—of which there are only two—as a mid-course to share. There are just five entrées, and the kitchen was no longer offering two of them when we arrived a shade early for our 10:30pm reservation.

Given Skeen’s reputation as a meat-hawking chef at Resto and Irving Mill, it may be a bit surprising that about half the menu is seafood, and most of the meat offerings are timid. Is Skeen channeling the Upper East Side, trying to prove he’s settled down, or something else?

The wine list isn’t long, but it’s fairly priced in relation to the food, and it featured a number of producers unfamiliar to me, many of them labeled as organic or biodynamic. At $50 (about 2½ times retail), the Torbreck 2009 Cuvée Juveniles (above right) had a rich, full-bodied flavor.

 

A Tea Beet & Goat Cheese Salad ($16; above left) was…well, a beet salad. A Liege Salad ($16; above right) was as close to the old Skeen as the menu got, a delightful soupy mix of escarole, arugula, chopped pig’s ears, and a poached egg.

 

If you’re going to offer just two pastas, there’s full credit for making one of them such a dandy as the Sepia Bucatini ($18; above left) with chili, sea urchin, lemon and basil.

But I was quite disappointed in the Rack of Lamb ($32; above right), the only dish on the menu that carries a supplement. Served off the bone, the lamb didn’t have much flavor, and it was swimming in a watery swamp of bitter greens.

The space doesn’t appear to be perversely designed to amplify the ambient noise, but noisy it was, until the crowd thinned out later in our meal. The dining room is modern, stylish, and attractive, although the tables are close together. The servers are smartly dressed and knowledgeable, a cut above what one often finds at new restaurants these days. This isn’t their first rodeo.

I’m sure 83½ will attract some of the Skeen curiosity seekers, the way it attracted us. The introductory menu doesn’t qualify as destination cuisine, but as Skeen finds his equilibrium perhaps it will become more adventurous. The advantage of a small space is that the menu doesn’t have to be full of crowd-pleasers, as long as he can keep 40-odd seats full.

Less than a month in, 83½ is promising, but perhaps not yet at its full potential. It will bear watching, along with the chef’s mercurial temper.

83½ (345 E. 83rd Street between First & Second Avenues, Upper East Side)

Food: Upscale American cuisine
Wine: A short but worthwhile list of wines, many organic or biodynamic
Service: A strong point, especially for a restaurant this new
Ambaince: A small, stylish dining room with an open kitchen; a bit too loud

Rating: ★
Why? A promising menu with some soft spots, but well worth watching