Babbo

Note: Click here and here for more recent visits to Babbo.

In New York, there’s hardly a tougher table to come by than at Babbo, chef Mario Batali’s flagship in Greenwich Village. Reservations are accepted up to one month to the calendar date in advance, and if you want one you’d best call at 10:00am on that exact date.

But if you don’t mind eating at the bar, you can amble in any day at the 5:00pm opening time. Babbo offers wonderful service at the bar itself, and there are also several tables in the area that are first-come, first-served. I gave Babbo a try last Saturday night, sitting at the bar as many reviews had recommended.

I had my heart set on the pasta tasting menu, but I was surprised to learn that they won’t serve their tasting menus to parties of one. What an unfriendly policy! It’s their loss, as I ended up spending less money.

Anyhow, I proceeded to order à la carte. Babbo is well known for offal, so that’s where my priorities lay. I started with Pig’s Feet Milanese. This looked a bit like a large potato pancake, crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside. It was a wonderful taste sensation.

I then had the dish so much talked about, the Beef Cheek Ravioli. Perhaps it was inevitable that it couldn’t exceed its reputation, but it is a wonderful creation, putting traditional raviolis to shame.

Babbo offers plates of 3, 5, of 7 cheeses for dessert, priced at $12, $15, and $18 respectively. I chose the 5-cheese plate, which was really far too much for one person after a full-size appetizer and main course. A waiter came around and gave a back-story for all five cheeses (one of them came from a farm run by Mario Batali’s wife’s parents) and recommended the order in which they should be eaten, from least-to-most “assertive.”

In an unusual custom, Babbo serves its single-serving wines by the quartino, rather than by the glass. A quartino is about 1/3 of a bottle, so you get about two glasses for around the price many restaurants charge for just one. I’m not a big drinker, so that was about all I needed to pace myself through the meal.

The New York Times’s new restaurant critic, Frank Bruni, chose Babbo as his first review, re-affirming a three-star status first conferred by Ruth Reichl six years ago. I agree with Frank Bruni that Babbo is a bit too crowded to qualify for four stars, but he complained of “relatively hard rock” music, played too loudly for comfort. I found none of this. Perhaps the soundtrack changes later in the evening?

Although I was there alone on this occasion, I believe my dining companions — had there been any — would have heard each other a lot easier than in most New York restaurants I’ve tried recently. The Bruni review led me to expect the hustle-bussle of a brasserie, and that Babbo is not. Service was excellent, particularly considering that I was a bar patron.

Babbo has so much to offer, and I felt that I saw just the tip of the iceberg. I will have to go back.

Babbo (110 Waverly Pl. between MacDougal St. and Sixth Ave., Greenwich Village)

Food: ***
Service: **
Ambiance: **
Overall: ***

BLT Steak

Laurent Tourondel got a raw deal the last time he opened a restaurant in New York. Right out of the gate, the much-lauded Cello earned three stars from the Times, but his backers got cold feet after 9/11. They pulled the plug one night when he was out of town, and he returned to find he no longer had a restaurant.

At BLT Steak, it looks like Tourondel has a winner on his hands. The place seems to fill up every night, and it’s in a part of town where there’s not much competition in the genre. And it’s just close enough to be a suitable pre-concert haunt for the Carnegie Hall crowd.

“BLT” stands for Bistro Laurent Tourondel, although I believe they’ll actually serve you an upscale version of the BLT sandwich if you visit at lunch time. As the name implies, you’ll get a steak there and be happy. The choice surprised some critics, however, as Cello was best known for its seafood. A companion restaurant called “BLT Fish” is said to be in the works.

A friend and I tried BLT Steak for dinner last Friday night. The restaurant has a split personality, with the décor seeming more upscale than a bistro, but the specials menu posted on the back wall screaming, “Don’t take us too seriously!”

Our table seemed larger than the typical table-for-two, and at first it seemed like we had to shout a bit to hear each other above the din, for BLT Steak is certainly a loud place. However, we needed all of that space once the side dishes started to arrive.

After we sat down, a server brought sliced bread and goose liver paté. This was followed by the celebrated popovers — enormous fluffy pastry balls the size of a barbell — with soft butter. At this point, those with small stomachs will feel half-full already, but there is a dinner to be eaten.

We both fixed our gaze on the heirloom tomato appetizer, and a fine choice this was. The tomatoes were thick, rich, and perfectly seasoned.

Several reviewers had said that BLT Steak was actually a better place for fish. However, we were in a carnivorous mood, so we ordered the Ribeye for Two, with sides of french fries and creamed spinach. We also chose our sauces: horseradish and three mustards. This seemed to us a competent presentation, but nothing to rush back for. Our feeling was that BLT Steak deserves another look…but next time, for the fish.

We ordered a $48 cabernet from the specials board. It too was acceptable without wowing us.

BLT Steak (106 E. 57th Street, between Park & Lexington Avenues, East Midtown)

Food: **
Service: *
Ambiance: *
Overall: **

Montrachet

Note: Montrachet closed in May 2006—ostensibly for “renovations,” but it never re-opened, and its wine cellar was sold. The space (with the same ownership) is now Corton.

*

In March 2004, New York Times interim restaurant critic Amanda Hesser made a stir when she demoted Montrachet, the long-time three-star standout in TriBeCa, to two stars. Whether Montrachet deserved the slap-down may be debated, but the review stood out for its soul-lessness.

I had a chance to find out for myself last week. Hesser’s comments about the décor seemed to me completely wacky. She wrote:

Entering the restaurant is a bit like stepping through the looking glass. There is no coat room in the tiny foyer. A small portable heater set on top of a wine cask buzzed at the coat checker, who took my coat, hung it on a metal rack in the dining room, then looked up my reservation. She was polite, warm even.

Before me stood a dining room with sponge-painted walls and self-consciously modern paintings. It felt like a scene from “Wall Street.” I could picture Michael Douglas sitting at a red banquette, bellowing into a first-generation cellphone the size of a shoe.

I hadn’t been to Montrachet in years, and I suddenly felt the disappointment of returning to a childhood home and finding that the backyard is not so big as you remembered, that the curtains are kind of shabby. Montrachet even smells old.

I can’t comment on the coat rack and space heater—it being high summer, these accoutrements were entirely unnecessary. But the space itself seems elegant and refined. It didn’t smell old.

I was there with a party of three. Two of us chose the appetizer of Marinated Sea Scallops with Gazpacho Sauce. This was a bit disappointing, as the gazpacho overwhelmed the scallops, leaving them flabby and dead to the taste. The third member of our party ordered a Wild Mushroom Bisque, which he pronounced a success.

We had three different main courses, which all were pleased with. Between us, we tried the Magret of Duck with Pistachios and Cherry Endive Compote, the Chilean Sea Bass “en Barigoule” with Parmigiano Reggiano, and the Grilled Rib Eye Steak with Morels, Texas Sweet Onions and Truffles.

Montrachet has one of the most revered wine lists in the city, and it takes a connoisseur (or the sommelier’s guidance) to make sense of it. One of my companions knows his wines, and he chose a PlumpJack Cabernet Sauvignon — a brand previously unknown to me — that I found superb.

For the record, appetizers at Montrachet are $11-22, mains are $24-32, desserts $10-11. A cheese course runs to $16 per head. All three of us tried that, and I was gratified to find that it included good-sized samples of five contrasting cheeses, which is more than you get for the money at many restaurants in town.

Montrachet also offers four fixed menus. There are two three-course prix fixe options at $30 or $46, a six-course tasting for $79, or an eight-course tasting for $95. The latter is available only Monday to Friday.

Montrachet certainly seems to me superior to most two-star restaurants in New York. While one cannot judge fairly on a single visit, on this showing I would say that Hesser’s demotion to two stars was an injustice.

Montrachet (239 West Broadway between White and Walker Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: ***
Service: ***
Ambiance: ***
Overall: ***

davidburke & donatella

Note: Click here for a more recent review of this restaurant, which has been renamed David Burke Townhouse.

The restaurant davidburke & donatella is the creation of chef David Burke and colleague Donatella Arpaia, who minds the front-of-house. Burke made his name cooking in other people’s restaurants (Park Avenue Cafe) before opening this restaurant with his friend Donatella late last year. A friend and I visited on Saturday night. It is the best two-star restaurant I’ve been to, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it gunning for three if a re-review comes along.

It’s a beautiful space, decorated with the kind of wit that you find in Burke’s inventive menu. There are two dining rooms, and we were seated in the larger of the two. It seems the owners were determined to use every inch of available space, as there was barely room to navigate between the closely-spaced tables. It was hard to hear over the din.

When we sat down, a folded paper menu was on our plates. This was the day’s tasting menu — five courses, $75. It was a typeset menu, on top of which Burke had scribbled additional daily specials and witty artwork. I was tempted, but my friend was not, so we moved onto the main menu, which our server came by and handed out.

Bread arrives — cooked in its own copper casserole, and steaming hot. The butter comes as a modern art sculpture that you almost regret cutting into. There wasn’t quite enough time to appreciate this before the amuse-bouche, a small confection of salmon ribbons.

To start, I ordered the foie gras and lobster appetizer. It came in two hollowed-out egg shells, each with its own tiny little spoon. My friend had the gazpacho, which came with a shrimp profiterole and a mound of guacamole.

I had read about the origins of Burke’s “Bronx” veal chop on eGullet (it’s a cut Burke invented), and I had to give that a try. The difficulty with this dish is that the chop itself is an awkward shape, and it’s a struggle to find an anchor point for your fork. It was a tasty piece of veal, but I don’t like to fight fight for my food. My friend had the pork chop, which I tasted. It had a wonderful char and was perfectly tender.

The wine list is a confusing jumble. Within the standard categories (red/white), the wines are grouped by degrees — that is, each of the main headings is a number with the little “degree” symbol. Was this the degrees latitude where the grape was grown? The temperature at which the wine is stored? We could not tell. It is also a pricey list, and we struggled to find a good choice in our range. Finally we asked the sommelier for a suitable choice under $60 a bottle, and he produced an off-the-menu shiraz at $55 that we were pleased with.

db&d is known for its desserts. The table next to us were friends of pastry chef James Distefano, and they got a free sample of everything on the menu. You would have to carry me home if I ate that much dessert, but it certainly gave us an idea of the range of creativity on offer here. I had the Coconut Layer Cake, my friend the Dark Chocolate & Praline Torte, which were both winners.

David Burke himself seemed to have a few friends in the house last night, as he came out of the kitchen several times to greet diners. I expected a light turnout, given that it is a holiday weekend, but the restaurant was packed. However, we got an 8:00pm reservation that I called for only on Wednesday, which perhaps wouldn’t be available on an ordinary weekend.

There is much to appreciate at db&d, and on one visit I thought we had barely scratched the surface. I will have to return.

davidburke & donatella (133 E. 61st Street between Park & Lexington Avenues, Upper East Side)

Number One in Edinburgh

Edinburgh has two Michelin star restaurants: Number One and Martin Wishart. I tried the tasting menu at Wishart’s a couple of months ago, and last week I decided to see what Number One could do. While both restaurants have their strengths, I would have to give the slight edge to Number One.

Located in the basement of the Edinburgh’s marquis hotel, the Balmoral, Number One exudes a sense of luxury. There is an ample and comfortably appointed lounge area to enjoy a drink before sitting down for your meal. The walls have a dark, highly polished sheen. They’re covered with small modern artworks that don’t distract you, but in fact are witty and eclectic if you take the time to study them. The tables and banquettes are plush and generously spaced.

The service at Number One is impeccable. As I watched them operate over two and a half hours, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the teamwork and precision. A team of five servers covered the whole restaurant (it is not that large, and not all the tables were taken), and while they had their individual duties, they operated as a coordinated unit. Now the sommelier serves you a glass of wine, and the next moment he’s serving appetizers at the next table. Now the lovely French woman is serving your soufflé, and the next moment she’s refilling wine glasses at the opposite corner of the restaurant.

I ordered the chef’s tasting menu with paired wines, which clocks in at £85 before tip. There were five courses plus two amuses and six glasses of wine in this degustation. Although most of the portions were small, as you’d expect on a tasting menu, I walked out quite full, and in fact skipped breakfast the next morning. All of the dishes were plated beautifully, in designs clearly intended to delight the eye as well as the stomach.

I had never ordered a full wine pairing before. It adds a significant premium to the meal, but I have to say it’s worth it. You get a selection of diverse wines that is expertly chosen to suit the menu, quite a few of which you probably would never order on your own. They are smaller pours than wine ordered by the glass, but with six of them included it’s about as much as most people care to drink. I did have trouble pacing myself, though: you were never sure how much time you had before the next course was to arrive.

Your meal begins with freshly-cut bread. A server wheels over a cart, with six large breads baked that day. You choose one (mine was walnut grain), and he cuts off a slice. Soft butter is already there on your table. A few minutes later he’s back to offer more. The bacon bread tempted me, but I held off, knowing there was much to come.

The amuse-bouche was a tiny cup of tomato consommé, which I found a bit disappointing. The more successful amuses-bouches display some culinary wit, which this uninspired dish lacked. The champagne paired with it was similarly unexciting.

A wonderful foie gras came next, served with oatcakes and mushroom chutney. It was paired with an intense New Zealand fruit wine that complemented the liver taste perfectly. The fish course was a scallop in a light curry sauce, accompanied by braised oxtail. This was the hit of the evening, and unfortunately that lonely scallop was gone all too quickly. This is the drawback of a tasting menu.

The meat course was less successful. Six slender lamb medallions were sufficiently tender and tasty, but I’ve had far better lamb elsewhere. Sauces are Number One’s strength, but this lamb was served in its own juices. Nothing was done to raise it above the ordinary. The grilled sweetbreads that came on the plate were far more memorable. Some writers have suggested that meat courses are not as well suited to a tasting menu, because they require larger portions to make a culinary statement. I can certainly see the point, although I’ll have to try the format a few more times before deciding whether that’s true.

The cheese course was generous to a fault. The server wheeled over a cart with a wide range of selections. I told him I preferred the exotic and offbeat, and he cut six thick slices. It’s easy to order a $15 cheese course in New York and get three skimpy pieces, so this was refreshing indeed. He asked if I wanted any more, so there didn’t seem to be a hard limit. Anyhow, at six pieces this was a more substantial course than the entrées had been, so I thought it best to stop there (with dessert still to come). I can’t describe cheeses, but the six I sampled were wonderful. They were paired with a sweet port wine.

There was a small pre-dessert of apricots and cream, followed by the main dessert, a raspberry and white chocolate soufflé. This is a specialty dish at Number One, which I’ve had on previous visits. It came with a white dessert wine, which the sommelier described as a palate-cleanser. I’m still trying to guess what that means.

At US$200 (including tip), my splurge at Number One was well worth it. This could turn into an expensive hobby.

Jean-Georges Vongerichten's '66'

Note: 66 closed in 2007. Matsugen, a Japanese soba restaurant, is its replacement.

A vendor took me out to dinner at 66 on Monday night. That meant I wasn’t paying. We had a fun night out, but I wouldn’t rush back to spend my own money there — not because there’s anything wrong with 66, but because there’s plenty of other fun places I haven’t tried yet. My feeling now about 66 is, “been there, done that.”

66 is Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s riff on Chinese cooking. Neither the menu nor the wine list is long, but this is not a complaint. Vongerichten has narrowed the stereotype Chinese menu down to the things his kitchen can execute well. Aside from a dessicated plate of overcooked spareribs, every dish was fresh, tasty, and inviting.

The menu is divided into appetizers, dim sum, rice/noodles, and entrees of vegetables, fish and meat. The apps top out at about $14, although most are under $10. The entrees top out around $26, although most are around $20-22. As at Spice Market, plates are brought out when ready. Our server assured us that all of the dishes are designed for sharing (which wasn’t always true), and encouraged us to do so—which we did.

There’s a tasting menu for $66 (get it?), which our server advised was “personally selected by Jean-Georges” (no surname required). Three of us were willing to go that route, but one of our party was skittish about trusting the famous chef’s judgment, so we created a more conservative tasting menu of our own. Our server advised ordering one app, one dim sum, and one entree/vegetable course per person, which turned out to be an ample amount of food, and indeed perhaps a tad too much.

I can’t find a menu for 66 online, and I can’t remember everything we ordered, but I’ll run through a few of the highlights. The two standout appetizers were cubes of pork belly and shrimp prepared two ways. We ordered four different kinds of dumplings, of which I remember three: foie gras, mushroom, and lobster. All were excellent, and you’re not going to find them on the typical Chinese menu.

We ordered a fish entree, which I believe was a grilled sole. It was an undivided fillet, and it quickly crumbled into bitty pieces when we tried to divide it among the four of us. It was a wonderful dish, but hard to split among a large group. The traditional duck with scallions and pancakes was more successful in this regard. Here, Vongerichten was just replicating a Chinese standard (albeit with happy results), without putting his own stamp on it. A plate of mixed vegetables (including the inescapable snow peas) and a sweet & sour chicken dish completed the main courses.

The cocktail menu included a concoction called Mother of Pearl, with rum and coconut milk, which was so wonderful I ordered a second. After dinner, I ordered a 14-year-old Oban (single malt scotch), which was very reasonably priced at around $15, and included about twice as much as you normally get in a restaurant portion. Our meal concluded with chocolate fortune cookies—once again, Jean-Georges is winking at us.

The Richard Meier décor has been much written about. It is spare, sleek, and doesn’t at all resemble your typical Chinese restaurant. The entrance on Church Street (between Leonard and Worth Streets) is so subtle you could easily miss it. My hosts had no trouble getting a 6:30 reservation, and when we left about two hours later 66 was not yet full.

66 (66 Church Street between Leonard & Worth Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: *
Overall: **

Thalassa: Greek Seafood in TriBeCa

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Thalassa.

*

Thalassa is a Greek seafood restaurant. The Hellenic influence is on display everywhere, but with fish imported daily from all over the Mediterranean, you can think of Thalassa as simply a very fine seafood restaurant.

Thalassa means “the sea” in Greek. The letter theta is everywhere, from the china, to the banner outside, to even the doggie bags. The design radiates cool blues, making Thalassa a most soothing place. Billowing fabric covers the exposed brick walls. Perhaps it is meant to suggest sailing ships, but it also absorbs the sound, making Thalassa a place of calm, even when it is full.

Our party of 3 shared a starter of calamari. We’re all used to strings of calamari, breaded and immersed in the deep fryer. This dish was totally unexpected. The calamari was wrapped in the shape of a sausage around stuffing of feta cheese, parsley and pine nuts. We were simply amazed.

Thalassa’s menu offers a number of standard entrées, as well as a whole page of fish by the pound, which varies depending on what’s available. The restaurant recommends one pound of fish per person, but you have to order a whole fish, and not every selection is available at every weight. You’re dependent on your server to explain all this, and our server had a bit of trouble getting it across.

In the end, my friend and I settled for a two-pound sea bass, which we shared. A pound of fish sounds like a lot, but remember this is the uncooked weight. After the head is removed and the fish de-boned, this turns out to be just the right portion size. It was a nice flakey fish with a rich taste. The fish-by-the-pound selections don’t come with anything else, so we ordered a side of asparagus to go along with it.

My mother chose one of the standard entrées, Snapper Spetsiota, which is described as “oven-baked in a clay vessel with tomatoes, onions, fresh oregano and white wine.” This turned out to be a very large portion, which she enjoyed immensely, but she had half of it wrapped up to take home for tonight’s supper.

Thalassa boasts a long and varied wine list. We settled on a modestly-priced but obscure cabernet, which was such a hit that we asked the staff to give us the label, so that we can buy ourselves some more. (Yes, I know: red wine with fish … do forgive us!)

We passed on dessert, but at the end of the meal we were each presented with a silver box with the familiar letter theta printed on it. Inside was a sugary pastry puff to send us on our way. All evening long, service was superlative. It’s a big town, but at least from my own experience, Thalassa is the best restaurant in town that has never had a rated review from the New York Times. Two subsequent visits have confirmed my extremely favorable impression of this restaurant.

Appetizers at Thalassa are $8-18, mains are $24-36. The market fish selections available last night were at $26-45 per pound, with most in the $26-32 range.

Thalassa (179 Franklin Street between Greenwich & Hudson Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: ***
Service: ***
Ambiance: ***
Overall: ***

Artisanal: Hommage au Fromage

Note: For a later visit to Artisanal, click here.

*

Artisanal is chef Terrance Brennan’s ode to cheese. I understand he has his own factory in Manhattan, where many of the chesses are manufactured. The distinct odor of eau du fromage permeates the whole restaurant. One lucky table gets to sit in “The Cave,” where many of the cheeses are stored. We weren’t that lucky, but cheese is everywhere. There’s even a retail counter, where you can buy a hunk of your favorite cheese to take home.

My mother, who’s visiting from out of town, has traveled in France extensively, and even lived there for a year. She said Artisanal immediately transported her to a brasserie in Paris. The Adam Tihany-designed interior conjures up the original brilliantly. The tile floor and other exposed hard surfaces makes it a bit noisy, but we had no trouble hearing our own conversation.

Your server greets you with a bewildering array of menus. There’s the dinner menu, with wines on the reverse side; a separate premium wine menu; a cheese menu that lists themed servings, optionally paired with wines; and a cocktail menu. Later on, there’s a dessert menu and a new cheese menu with the cheeses listed individually.

The main dinner menu, however, is packed onto just one page. Starters run $7.50 to $21.50, mains $17.50 to $29.50. Fondue is either $24 (petite, serves 1-3) or $40 (grande, serves 4-6). A $30.04 prix fixe is available every night, though it’s worth noting that if you add a flight of cheese, a party of two is still going to have trouble getting out for under $100.

Things start well with a basket of fresh bread and a dish of butter so soft it spreads like whipping cream. I ordered an appetizer of Bleu Cheese and Walnut Crisp, served with asian pear, watercress, and warm bacon vinaigrette. It looked like a green salad, but the flavor of Brennan’s astonishing bleu cheese put all others to shame. I’m no cheese expert, but I’ve never experienced anything of this quality.

I then had a lamb porterhouse, a cut that neither of us had ever heard of. It was a bit smaller than the typical New York Strip steak, but for lamb it was an enormous piece of meat, very tender and cooked perfectly to the medium rare I had ordered. (The lady at the next table asked for medium, but she also got medium rare, and was dissatisfied; after she sent it back, it returned well done.) The lamb was served on a bed of stewed rice, tomatoes and olives that was a perfect compliment to the meal.

You can’t visit Artisanal without sampling the cheeses, so we ordered a plate of three. What do you call the guy who comes over and takes your cheese order? Is he the fromagier? Anyhow, he looked like he was about 16. We asked for two goat cheeses and an “exotic” bleu cheese. As at Picholine, you get back your own copy of the cheese menu, with your choices circled. One of those he gave us wasn’t even on the printed menu, and it was probably the best of all.

At the end of the meal, our waiter looked at my plate, and said, “You did good!” I’m glad to know he approved. We certainly did!

Artisanal (2 Park Avenue at 32nd Street, Murray Hill)

Salud!

Note: Salud closed in 2012, after the restaurant was destroyed by Hurricane Sandy.

*

The arrival of any new restaurant in the Seaport district is newsworthy, because there are so few of them, and what’s there is in general so bland. Pier 17 itself is the haunt of tourists and weekend revelers, although Sequoia at the end of the pier is worth a visit for satisfactory seafood and some of the best views in Manhattan.

Salud is about a block away from the Seaport’s main drag. The space was formerly a sushi bar called Orange Peel. The place has been gutted, and it is now the most civilized dining space so close to the Seaport. Walk in, and the hubbub nearby is left behind. There is a cool dark glow to the polished wood tables and white walls. An live ensemble plays Spanish music, but although Salud’s space is small, the noise doesn’t overwhelm table conversation.

The cuisine is described as “South American,” of which I have no other experience with which to compare. The menu offers both Tapas (about $8-12 each) and entrée-sized mains (about $17-25 each). Fish/seafood dishes, the restaurant’s specialty, outnumber meat/vegetable dishes. I wasn’t that hungry, so I ordered two tapas. Rellenos stuffed with seafood were a big hit. The plate came with three hot cupcake-sized rellenos, each with baby shrimp, clams, and calimari inside (at least, that’s what I took the ingredients to be). Crispy & spicy chicken was not as happy a choice, as the chicken had been a bit over-cooked. The dish had potential, though. It reminded me of General Tso’s chicken, but it was a cut well above the freeze-dried versions found in so many Chinese restaurants; it just needed to come out of the deep fryer a bit sooner.

My mother ordered hanger steak, which she reported as flavorful, but having too much gristle. This is the hazard of ordering steak in a restaurant that doesn’t specialize in steak.

I was especially taken with how witty the platings were. My mother’s french fries, for instance, came stacked like Lincoln Logs. The crispy & spicy chicken came with diced green and red peppers arranged around the outside edge of the plate, framing the food. The rellenos had a white cream sauce, overlaid on the seafood in the shape of a letter Z.

I don’t mind hopping on the subway, but this is my neighborhood, and sometimes I want to stay close to home. In a part of town where there haven’t been many options, any new arrival is something to cheer about. It’ll take a few more visits to take the measure of Salud, but for now I’m happy it’s on the scene.

Salud (142 Beekman Street at Front Street, South Street Seaport)

Food: *
Service: *
Ambiance: *
Overall: *

F.illi Ponte

Note: Click here for a more recent review of F.illi Ponte.

For years, I’ve seen the huge, faded sign along the West Side Highway pointing the way to F.illi Ponte. The sign alone made me skeptical: if you need to toot your horn that loudly, maybe the smart money is going elsewhere. So although I work in the area, I was never motivated to give the place a try. A lunch invitation the other day finally brought me to F.illi Ponte.

The restaurant has been on this desolate edge of TriBeCa since 1967, a time when the area was still largely an abandoned warehouse and factory district. Recovery has come slowly to Debrosses Street. The immediately surrounding area still seems to be a land that Time forgot, although I don’t think this feeling will last long. Just a couple of blocks away, loft conversions proceed apace. The dining room is on the second story, offering nice views of the Hudson river, and less inviting views of still-abandoned warehouses, parking lots, and dilapidated piers. The dining room was about half-full for lunch, with a clearly up-scale crowd.

I went for the restaurant’s supposed signature entree: “Angry Lobster,” which takes its name apparently from the crushed red peppers and other spices in the mix. It is not ‘fra diavolo’, but just pleasantly spicy. I have never seen such a huge lobster, which seemed to weigh about eight pounds. It came on a rectangular plate around two feet long. I probably enjoyed this more than any lobster I have ever had, thanks to the dizzying array of spice flavors.

I was also reminded why I seldom order lobster: it is just too much hard work to tease the meat out of the creature’s crevices. My colleagues admired my industry, but I don’t like expending so much effort for my food. Even with the four utensils provided, it was difficult to get a grip on the recalcitrant claws, and I began to think that the name of the entree said more about the lobster’s revenge for the terrible end it had met.

The server announced a number of specials, including a vegetable soup, served hot or cold. Three of us ordered it cold, but the kitchen served us the hot version. The waiter rushed out a few moments later, profusely apologetic, but we decided to eat the soup as presented. We also weren’t offered soda refils, which I’d chalk up to inefficiency rather than policy.

F.illi Ponte carries two stars from the New York Times, and it’s not the place for a cheap date, with entrees ranging from $28-46. I didn’t ask what the lobster cost (it was shown on the menu as a market price item), but I’m sure it was above $40. Everyone at my table was pleased with his meal, and several had been there a number of times before, which suggests that F.illi Ponte is sending patrons home happy, even with an astronomical bill. I wouldn’t mind a trip back, but at these prices I’ll wait till another vendor invites me!

F.illi Ponte (39 Debrosses Street at West Street, TriBeCa)

Food: *½
Service: *½
Ambiance: **
Overall: *½