davidburke & donatella

 

Note: In 2009, davidburke & donatella was renamed David Burke Townhouse, after Donatella Arpaia severed her ties with the restaurant. The restaurant closed in 2014, for what was supposed to be a month of renovations. Not long after that, Burke “took a backseat” in the operation of his various restaurants. David Burke Townhouse never re-opened, and as of May 2015 the building was for sale.

*

Davidburke & donatella is a frustrating restaurant that is hard to ignore. The first time I visited, I rated it a shade below three stars. The second time, I was so disgusted that I wasn’t sure I’d ever return. But David Burke’s witty menu, now under chef de cuisine Eric Hara, drew me back.

Some of the restaurant’s drawbacks are destined never to be remedied. Tables are squished so tightly together that you’re practically in your neighbors’ lap. This is certainly not the place for a romantic tête-à-tête. To get to the restroom and back, you must navigate an obstacle course. Given the price range, you’d like the service staff to be more attentive; given the cramped quarters, I’m not sure how they’d squeeze in any more of them.

The comely Ms. Arpaia and her Vespa

The wine list remains exorbitant. A mediocre pinot noir was $75, and I saw nothing for much less.

Both David Burke and Donatella Arpaia have since drifted on to other adventures. Arpaia’s latest is Mia Dona, with chef Michael Psilakis. Burke has opened six restaurants in the last four years, of which David Burke Las Vegas is the most recent.

But despite the distractions, the menu at davidburke & donatella has not remained stagnant. There were several items I had not seen before, and Burke’s abundant wit remains evident in all of them. I don’t know if he is still contributing, or if in Eric Hara he has found a worthy deputy.

When you sit down, the evening’s tasting menu ($75, five courses) is already in front of you. There are also several hand-written specials. It is admirable to have them in writing, especially given the dense complexity of Burke’s (or Hara’s) creations. If they were recited, I suspect they would be inaudible through the din.

A three-course prix-fixe (which wasn’t available before) is $55, although numerous dishes carry supplements. On the à la carte menu, appetizers are $15–24, mains are $28–44.

Scallop Ceviche (left); Bread service (right)

The amuse-bouche was a rather bland scallop ceviche. As before, the wonderful hot bread rolls are served in a copper pot, and the butter is an artful sculpture that one is almost sorry to cut into.

 
PB&J (left); Parfait of Salmon and Tuna Tartars with Crème Fraiche (right)

“PB&J” ($21) seems to have undergone some refinement since it was featured in New York. Earlier photos (example here) showed a hunk of pan-seared foie gras between two slices of toasted brioche, with strawberry jam and a macadamia nut spread. But the version of served yesterday was a lot less interesting. The foie gras itself was more like a tennis-ball-shaped terrine cut in half, with the jam and peanuts on the side. Though visually arresting, it was not as interesting with the contrasting ingredients demoted to observer status.

My girlfriend adored the parfait of salmon and tuna tartars ($16). The version served last night was handwritten on the menu, so it might not be exactly the same recipe shown on the restaurant website, although I believe it is close.

 
Organic “Ostrich” Scramble (left); Handmade Cavatelli & Braised Short Ribs (right)

For the main course, I decided on one of the handwritten specials, described as an “Organic ‘Ostrich’ Scramble” ($44 as an entrée; also available as an appetizer). The ‘Ostrich’ in quotes refers to the serving vessel: half an ostrich egg. There is otherwise no ostrich in the dish, which includes scrambled organic eggs, lobster, tomato, caviar and crème fraiche.

I give Hara (or was it Burke?) full credit for dreaming up something that, I think we may safely say, no one anywhere else is serving. But in the end it was just a tasty mash-up of luxury ingredients that didn’t really sustain enough interest to be a main course.

My girlfriend was quite happy with the Homemade Cavatelli & Braised Short Ribs ($32).

We concluded with a shared order of Burke’s Cheesecake Lollipop Tree ($18; left). I’ve now had it three times, and like many Burke creations, I think it’s more notable for how it looks than how it tastes.

More than four years after it opened, davidburke & donatella has lost none of its popularity. It seems to be nearly always full, drawing heavily on a well dressed Upper East side crowd.

It would be easy for such a place to lapse into dull repetition, but Burke and Hara continue to swing for the fences with their inventive cuisine. If not every item is a hit, one has to respect the creativity. But in so many other ways the restaurant is incredibly unpleasant. After three uneven visits, I am not sure I’ll be back again anytime soon.

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

Food: ★★
Service: ★
Ambiance: ★½
Overall: ★½

Update: The Little Owl

Something you’ll never see: The Little Owl with no customers. [Kalina via Eater]

Much of The Little Owl’s reputation seems to rest on two knockout dishes: The Pork Chop, which I had the last time I visited; and the meatball sliders.

I was in the mood for a snack the other day, so I dropped in for an order of those balleyhooed sliders. All of the bar seats were available at 6:15 p.m., but within fifteen minutes they were all taken.

[Amateur Gourmet]In a town awash with sliders, I thought these were par for the course. These are made with beef, pork and veal, and slathered with gravy. The server asked what I thought, and I said, “They’re fun.”

“They’re perfect!” she replied, almost looking offended, as if merely “fun” wasn’t good enough. At $10, they certainly make a fine snack.

The space remains unbelievably popular, and unbelievably cramped. They must have added a couple of tables since Kalina’s photo (above) was shot: it almost looks roomy, which The Little Owl, with its 28 seats, is not. They now manage to fit five at the bar, and believe me, it’s a squeeze.

I continue to believe, as I did before, that The Little Owl is slightly overrated, but it’s a wonderful neighborhood restaurant. I wish I had something as good where I live.

The Little Owl (90 Bedford Street at Grove Street, West Village)

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

Market Table

Update: Since this review was written, Market Table has dropped the “Market” part of the concept. The front room is no longer a market, and the restaurant now has 60 seats, 20 more than before.

In November 2008, Frank Bruni awarded two stars in the Times. We believe—as we did at the Little Owl—that this was one star more than it deserved, bearing in mind that one star is supposed to be a compliment. Thanks to the Bruni review, it’s probably no longer true that “Market Table is a Little Owl you can get into.”

*

Two years ago, Joey Campanaro and Gabriel Stulman electrified the West Village with their hugely successful Little Owl, which won a remarkable two stars from Frank Bruni in the Times. Five months ago, they returned with a sequel, Market Table, just five blocks south. Early on, the demand for tables was intense: Bloomberg’s Ryan Sutton waited 90 minutes to get in.

Critical reception hasn’t reached the levels of rapture accorded The Little Owl. Market Table made Adam Platt’s Best of ’07 List, but Platt doesn’t seem to have reviewed it. In the Village Voice, Sietsema was unimpressed. For the Sun, Paul Adams mostly liked it. Randall Lane awarded four of six in TONY, and Restaurant Girl awarded 2½ out of 4 in the Daily News. But Frank Bruni surprisingly gave it a pass, letting Julia Moskin deliver a mixed verdict in Dining Briefs.

At Market Table, the central conceit is that it’s a market with tables. The front room sells coffee, sandwiches, and some of the same food ingredients used in the restaurant. The serving area is in the back room. It’s roomier and comfier than The Little Owl. Still, the shared DNA is apparent: exposed brick, bare table-tops, and a bar that’s set up for walk-in diners. Their menus and wine lists are similar, too.

Market Table is a Little Owl you can get into. At 6:15 p.m. on a Saturday evening, The Little Owl couldn’t accommodate our party of three. Five minutes later, we walked into Market Table and were seated at the bar immediately.

The menu is laden with comfort-food favorites. It had certainly captured our server’s affections. We asked him for recommendations, and by the time he was finished he had gushed over practically every dish. Mikey Price, formerly of The Mermaid Inn, is in charge of the kitchen,. He was off on the evening we were there, but Campanaro (who humbly called himself the “chef’s assistant”) was on hand.

 
Beet and goat cheese salad (left); Fried calamari (right)

A salad with heirloom beets and breaded balls of fried goat cheese ($11) was lovely. Humble fried calamari ($9) were crisp and not at all greasy.

 
Crab cake (left); Lamb shank (right)

A crab cake ($21) was impressive, with only the slightest cloak of breading and tender chunks of crab. But a braised lamb shank ($20) was dull and tough. Silky potatoes au gratin with gouda cheese offered some redemption.

At a restaurant where most entrées are below $25, it’s nice to see that they don’t try to make it up on wine. A Finger Lakes Cabernet Franc was $44, and these days I feel the need to cheer when there is anything decent for under $50.

There is also a selection of half-bottles—another estimable trait shared with The Little Owl.

Is Market Table as good as The Little Owl? It’s not lacking for business, but the foodocracy still seems to prefer the older sibling. The space at Market Table is considerably more pleasant, but the menu doesn’t seem to have that “killer dish”—at The Little Owl, it’s the famous pork chop—as a draw.

But I’ll probably come back to Market Table, because it’s fun, friendly, and inexpensive. And readers, please note that the rating below—one star (the same as I gave The Little Owl)—is not an insult. One star means “good”.

Market Table (54 Carmine Street near Bedford Street, West Village)

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

Bruno Jamais

 
Left: The walk-thru wine cellar; Right: The dining room

Note: Bruni Jamais has closed.

*

Five years ago, Bruno Jamais opened his “exclusive” restaurant club on the Upper East Side. The Times reported that admission was open only to Mr. Jamais’ exclusive client list, honed over his years as maître d’hôtel at Daniel and Alain Ducasse. Membership in the club was $7,000 a pop.

The restaurant is on a quiet Upper East Side block in an elegant townhouse, just steps away from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Starchitect Tony Chi’s interior, featuring a spectacular walk-through wine cellar, won Hospitality Design’s Best Restaurant Design award in 2004. The dining room now doubles as a one-man show for the French artist Cyrille Margarit. Even Donald Trump might find it too opulent.

Critics mostly ignored the restaurant, which was evidently as Mr. Jamais wanted it. The only pro review was in the New Yorker, which found the food mediocre. The critic was more intrigued by diners whose dates seemed to be paid by the hour.

The supper club idea didn’t last; these days, anyone can get in. Indeed, there’s a distinct sense of almost begging, with the menu reminding you—in capital letters, no less—that the space is available for “BIRTHDAY PARTIES, SPECIAL OCCASIONS, WEDDING RECEPTIONS & CORPORATE EVENTS.” Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays are singles’ nights, and there’s a half-price prix fixe on Sundays.

There’s a decent number of reviews on the web, though some of the writers may be shills. The food seems to have been uneven over the years—sometimes terrific, but not dependable. The revolving door in the kitchen cannot have helped: the restaurant opened in late 2002, and it’s already on its fourth chef.

With that background, this isn’t a restaurant I would have chosen without an invitation. Full disclosure: our food and drinks were on the house, though I paid for the wine myself. Having said that, we were extremely impressed. The cuisine at Bruno Jamais is serious and excellent.

John Keller, who previously worked at Le Bernardin and Nobu, has been executive chef since 2006. His deft menu, which changes daily, is mostly conservative, but Keller can be clever too. Ingredients like caviar and foie gras are deployed liberally, but not in the lazy ways of chefs who use luxury as a substitute for thought. This is cooking of a high order.

The wine list is impressive, with one of the city’s better selections of Bordeaux and Burgundies. It skews expensive, but there are bottles as low as $40 (not many, though). A 1993 Chateau Lynch-Moussac Pauillac seemed to me fairly priced at $140.

There are some good house cocktails, too, but I failed to note all the ingredients in the one I liked best—something called “Sexy Back,” which the bartender recommended. The house signature cocktail, the Bruno’s Martini Platinum, was decent but crazily over-priced at $38.

The early New Yorker review complained of stratospheric prices: in 2002, a $42 entrée was sufficient to provoke outrage. Today, it’s at the high end of mainstream. Appetizers are $12–25, main courses $22–42 (most in the low thirties), side dishes $7–10. While clearly not inexpensive, there are plenty of Manhattan restaurants at this price level, including many that aren’t nearly as good.

The menu is reasonably focused, too, with just ten appetizers and ten entrées. There are a few nods to Asia and a number of French classics, but the menu is written in English. Portion sizes are ample.

  
Toast points with tomato chutney (left); Bread service (center); Goat cheese and mushroom strudel (right)

The bread service began with warm toast points and a tomato chutney spread. There was also a basket of excellent fresh breads, which cold triangles of butter didn’t live up to. The amuse-bouche continued the tomato chutney theme, with a terrific goat cheese and wild mushroom strudel.

 
Lobster Brûlee (left); Foie Gras Terrine (right)

Lobster Brûlée ($25) was an absolute knockout—think crème brûlée, but with lobster. This is one of the cleverest items on the menu A foie gras terrine ($25) was one of the menu’s more conservative choices, which the kitchen executed well.

 
Filet mignon au poivre (left); Duck Breast (right)

Steak in a non-steakhouse is often disappointing, but my girlfriend’s Filet Mignon au poivre ($35)—a boring choice, I know—was excellent. Duck breast was just about perfect, served with champagne-vanilla poached pear, chanterelle mushrooms and foie gras. It’s as good as any duck entrée in town, and at $26 you would have to consider it a bargain.

   
Left to right: Creamed spinach; Truffle mashed potatoes; Potato croquettes with gruyère cream; French fries

The four side dishes that we tried were far more than we needed, but they were all first-rate. The next morning my girlfriend said, “I’m still dreaming about those french fries.”

  
Homemade cookies (left); Floating island (center); Chocolate soufflé (right)

Our desserts were French standards, executed as well as they are anywhere.

We were seated at a comfortable banquette. The tables are a variety of sizes: ours would have comfortably accommodated four, but others looked seemed awfully small even for two. Service was polished and enthusiastic. Servers’ menu recommendations were sensible and accurate. 

The publicist said that Bruno Jamais attracts a late-night crowd (the kitchen takes orders until 3:00 a.m.). She recommended an 8:30 p.m. reservation—later than I normally prefer—so that we could get a better feel for the ambiance. Yet, over the course of three hours, the space was never more than half full. For much of the time, the staff outnumbered the customers. It was a varied clientele, both young and old, not fitting the stereotypes normally attached to such a place.

Does Bruno Jamais want to be taken seriously as a restaurant? If the rest of the food is as good as we had, it certainly should be. It could start by upgrading its website. Even fifteen years ago, it would have looked tacky; today, it is an embarrassment. Memo to Mr. Jamais: the only places that call themselves “ultra elegant” are the ones that are not.

Bruno Jamais—the restaurant, not the man (whom we did not meet)—seemed schizophrenic to us. The supper-club vibe leads you to expect cruise ship cuisine for aging plutocrats, courtesans, and B-list celebrities.  Some of the literature still has the quirky, off-putting name, “Bruno Jamais Restaurant Club.” But the kitchen turns out three-star food: there wasn’t a single dud, or anything remotely close to it, among the many things we tried. (Dining on a publicist’s dime, I’ve learned, is no guarantee of excellence.)

We had a wonderful meal, which we did not expect at all. If you pocket your aversion to the faux exclusivity that Bruno Jamais wears on its sleeve, you’ll find that the food is worth your attention.

Bruno Jamais (24 E. 81st Street between Madison & Fifth Avenues, Upper East Side)

Adour

[Rockwell Group]

Note: Adour closed in November 2012. A succession of executive chefs was not able to reclaim a lost Michelin star, or apparently, lost business.

*

My girlfriend and I thought it was near tragic when Alain Ducasse at the Essex House closed. It was the site of perhaps the best meal we have had in New York. When Ducasse announced that he was moving to the St. Regis, site of the former four-star Lespinasse, in a new restaurant called Adour, we hoped the magic would be moving with him.

Alas, the magic is nowhere to be found. Adour is a bore. A really crashing bore.

I don’t think three-star food has to be innovative: I find real pleasure in classics done well. But the menu here is downright soporific: one yawn after another. There’s no excitement on the plate at all. And if no longer priced in the stratosphere, as it was at the Essex House, the food at Adour is still very expensive. For entrées priced in the $40s, one expects at least some indication of the creative spark that earned Ducasse all of those Michelin stars.

The menu is printed on stiff boards glued into an upholstered cardboard folder. It is obviously not easily changeable. It makes Adour feel like a crass hotel restaurant. The subtle message it sends is: “The food isn’t changing anytime soon.” It is almost all in English. It apparently hasn’t occurred to Monsieur Ducasse that patrons at his restaurant might want, you know, French food.

Is this Ducasse’s way of saying “Screw you, New York”? Or, in his eagerness to pander—to give Americans what he thinks we want—has he forgotten to give us what he’s actually good at? We asked one of the servers what had happened to the great menu served at the Essex House. “It was time to move on,” he said.

To “move on” to this?

We certainly expected dialed-down luxury, given a price point about 50% lower than the Essex House. But there isn’t even an amuse-bouche here. If you order a cheese course ($22), there’s no cart, just a plate of four cheeses deposited on your table.

The wine service shines, though. The menu, after all, is supposedly designed to go well with wine, though I am not sure what that means. The list has plenty of compelling choices at decent prices, including multiple bottles of red under $50. We selected a 1996 Bricco Boschi Barolo at $105, which the staff decanted for us. I also liked the bread service, which came with a wonderful soft olive butter.

 
Sweetbread “Meunière”, Egg Purse (left); Foie Gras Tapioca Ravioli (right)

Sweetbreads with wild mushrooms ($24) were simply grilled, but I appreciated the egg purse in the center of the plate, which made a rich, runny mess. My girlfriend’s Foie Gras Tapioca Ravioli ($23) were dull. The taste of foie can always be counted on for luxury by default, but the dish made no attempt to offer any contrast.

 
Venison Medallions (left); Roasted Colorado Rack of Lamb (right)

Both Venison ($42) and Rack of Lamb ($48) were left basically to fend for themselves, with token vegetables offering little to amuse the palate. My girlfriend said that the side of risotto that came with her lamb was more interesting than the lamb itself.

 
Pear Clafoutis (left); Gala Apple Soufflé (right)

Neither dessert captured our imagination either, though at $14 apiece we didn’t feel cheated. The plates of petits-fours were generous, though we were full and didn’t touch them.

At Adour, the service team is no longer all French, as they were at the Essex House. Most of them seem capable, though we observed some minor snafus that no doubt will be worked out as the restaurant gets its legs. When we arrived, we appreciated that we were given ample time to peruse the wine list and enjoy our champagne. The restaurant wasn’t full, and the table appeared to be ours for as long as we wanted it.

The David Rockwell-designed space is comfortable and gorgeous. It could easily be one of the city’s most serene spots to enjoy a meal. But the food doesn’t live up to it. We can only hope Ducasse will take this milquetoast menu back into his laboratory, and return with some real excitement.

Adour (2 E. 55th Street at Fifth Avenue in the St. Regis Hotel, East Midtown)

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

The Stanton Social

OpenTable.com has a list of the Top 10 Booked Restaurants in New York. For a long time, the Stanton Social was on that list. It isn’t any longer, but I’m sure it’s not far off the pace. I almost pinched myself a few weeks ago, when I saw a 7:00 p.m. two-top on a Friday evening, and grabbed it.

If there’s a popularity checklist in the restaurant industry, the Stanton Social ticks all of the boxes. Its inexpensive tapas-style menu covers all the popular cuisines. Check. Kobe beef and foie gras are on hand to contribute an haute cuisine flourish or two. Check. Lower East Side vibe. Check. Eye-popping AvroKO décor. Check. An ear-thumping sound track. Check.

I arrived early, so I headed upstairs to try a few of the house cocktails. Black Magic ($10), a simple mixture of Guinness and Brut Champagne, was a complete failure. The bartender later admitted he hates it too: “Guinness and champagne can be good friends outside of work, but they don’t belong together at work.”

The Social Tea ($12), with Stoli Citros, green tea and orange-honey marmelade was appealing in a generically sweet way. But the best of the three I tried was the bartender’s recommendation, the Blood Orange Jalapeño Margarita ($12), with a house tequila that marinates in jalapeño peppers for about two weeks.

The menu, as noted, is entirely tapas-style: “Rather than offering individual starters and main courses, The Stanton Social serves dishes that are designed for sharing and are brought to the table steadily and continuously throughout the meal.”

Awarding one star in the Times, Frank Bruni commended chef Chris Santos’s “determination to find readily divisible finger food where no chef has found it before.”

Our server advised 5–6 dishes as being about right for two people. That was pretty reasonable advice. We chose five (out of a menu offering nearly fifty), including all three that she recommended. While we waited for our food, the kitchen brought out crisp bread with chipotle garlic butter (above right). We would easily have eaten more than one slice apiece, had there been more.

 
Duck Confit Empanadas and Potato & Goat Cheese Pierogies (left); French Onion Soup Dumplings (right)

It’s safe to assume that the kitchen’s greatest hits are mostly pre-assembled, as our first two plates came out after only five minutes or so. We loved Duck Confit Empanadas ($9), which had a nice tang, the blood orange dipping sauce offering a sweet-sour contrast. Potato and Goat Cheese Pierogies ($8) were less interesting, and my girlfriend (who’s half-Polish) felt that these deep-fried dumpling-like creatures weren’t pierogies at all. [Sorry about the washed-out photo.]

We also wondered why, on a menu designed for sharing, the kitchen would send out three empanadas and three pierogies. Most of the parties at the Stanton Social are even numbers of people. Would it have been that hard to create dishes in twos or fours, rather than threes?

French Onion Soup Dumplings ($11) admirably show off the chef’s talent for going where sharable plates have never gone before. Served in an escargot dish, there are six dumplings, each on a skewer with its own crouton, a hot onion soup center, and Gruyère slathered on top. Even more admirably, there are six of them.

 
Kobe Beef Sliders and Fries (left); Braised Short Rib Soft Tacos (right)

Kobe Beef Sliders are one of the few dishes not designed for sharing: they’re $7 apiece, and a wonderful tender gooey mess. The server recommended a bowl of fries ($6) to go with them. They were hot and not greasy, but over-salted. Beef Short Rib Soft Tacos ($19) weren’t very flavorful, and seemed somewhat “flat” compared to everything else we tasted. Once again, there were three of them—an odd design in more ways than one.

Tapas-style restaurants usually send out plates when the kitchen is ready, no matter what the customer may want. I don’t know if we got lucky, or if the Stanton Social is more enlightened, but the pace of our meal was just about right. Plates were delivered, cleared, and delivered anew on schedule, without us having to deal with mountains of food we weren’t ready to eat.

Of course, that “schedule” needs to be construed in the terms of a restaurant designed to turn over the tables quickly, and where no food item is meant to be lingered over: we were in and out in under 75 minutes. Given the din of the sound system, we weren’t eager to spend any more time there than necessary.

Although we snagged a 7:00 p.m. table, no one should conclude that the Stanton Social is losing its popularity: the place was packed. The small-plates format is still a winning one, and there are many clever choices to tempt you. If one or two are less successful, you’ll still have several others to enjoy. A larger group could very well try most of the menu.

We weren’t quite impressed enough, however, to endure again the crowds, the noise, and the difficulty of getting a reservation.

The Stanton Social (90 Stanton Street between Orchard & Ludlow Streets, Lower East Side)

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

Veritas

 

Note: This is a review under chef Ed Cotton. Click here for a review under the current chef, Sam Hazen.

Ten years ago, Park. B. Smith figured out that if he opened one bottle a day from his massive wine collection, it would take 119 years to drink it all. It was that scary thought that led him to open Veritas, the lovely 65-seat wine-themed restaurant in the Flatiron District.

Acclaim came quickly, with a three-star rating from Ruth Reichl in the Times, and much later a Michelin star. Veritas has hummed along quietly, less publicized than showier restaurants, but still doing a brisk business. In October, founding chef Scott Bryan left suddenly, “with no destination decided.” Ed Cotton, who was to have opened Bar Boulud for Daniel Boulud, replaced him.

As it was a decade ago, wine is the story at Veritas. Even then—when it was far less common—Veritas’ wine list was available online. It is divided into two sections, a smaller and less expensive “market list,” and the longer “reserve list.” The large volume is one of the heftiest in New York; you could get lost in it for hours. There are bottles under $60 and bottles over $10,000. We chose the 1998 Le Crau de ma Mère ($115) from the reserve list. It’s a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Park B. Smith’s favorite French wine.

While we were ordering, we couldn’t help overhearing the spectacle at the next table. An elderly solo diner was presented with his bill, $999, which had to have been mostly wine. And the bottle on his table, which must have cost $800, was still half full. The gentleman, clearly a Veritas regular, left without settling his bill (he was short of cash), telling the staff that he would be back for dinner the next evening. The wine he left over was, we are sure, shared and enjoyed by the restaurant staff.

The menu is $82 prix fixe, with tasting menus available at $110 (five-course) or $135 (seven-course). There are ten appetizers, eight entrées, and six desserts.

 

The amuse-bouche (above left) was house-cured salmon with a small vegetable medley. My girlfriend and I both started with the Wild Game Bolognese (above right) with butternut squash, wild chestnuts, and house-made cavatelli.

 

I enjoyed the Red Wine Braised Short-Ribs (above left), though they were slightly stringy. My girlfriend adored the Slow Baked Loch Duart Salmon (above right).

 

Finally, there was a terrific Banana Cream Tart (above left), while my girlfriend had the Chocolate Caramel Torte (above right).

Petits-fours

Service was smooth, alert, friendly and professional. Our wine was, of course, decanted for us, a practice that too many fine restaurants have abandoned.

The cuisine at Veritas might be described as safe and traditional, but everything we tried was beautifully assembled, impeccably prepared, and just complex enough to be interesting.

The wine’s the show at Veritas, but it’s served in a serene setting, with food more than good enough to deserve admiration and praise.

Veritas (43 E. 20th St. between Broadway & Park Avenue South, Flatiron District)

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

First Look: Adour by Alain Ducasse

Note: Click here for a full review of Adour.

Adour Alain Ducasse at the St. Regis opened this evening. I stopped in for a drink at the bar, where another patron informed me I was the sixth customer.

The electronic menus have received most of the press. You find your wine by navigating a touch screen that displays on the surface of the bar, projected from above. To get to Burgundy reds, for instance, you’d tap “Wines,” then “Red,” then “France,” then “Burgundy,” and then you can scroll down the list. For any given wine, you can retrieve tasting notes, producer history, and so forth.

It sounds good in theory, but the mechanism is finicky. If your touch is off by even a little, the mechanism misbehaves. After a while, I just gave up, and I noticed that others were frustrated too. I don’t think bar patrons—even at a high-class bar like this one—want to learn a new technology just to order a glass of wine. Within six months, I suspect they’ll be back to traditional paper and ink.

Selections by the glass were ample, and I enjoyed a wonderful Southern Rhone blend for $13, along with a cup of Yuzu Sorbet for just $4. If you’re thinking that those don’t sound like Ducasse prices, you’d be right.

There are about a dozen bar snacks, ranging from $9–16. It’s a remarkable selection at a bar that seats only four, and the guys next to me loved everything they tried. One of them was so taken with the Yuzu Sorbet that he asked the manager if the restaurant could supply a quantity for his Super Bowl party. (The manager replied that he was not sure the pastry chef could have quite enough of it made by Sunday.)

In the main restaurant, there are nine appetizers priced from $17–29, ten entrées at $32–49, and six desserts at $14. The cheese course is $22, and the five-course tasting menu is $110. Though clearly not bargain-priced, this is still a good deal less than the predecessor restaurant at the Essex House, where the prix fixe was $150 and the tasting menu $225.

I’m looking forward to dining there in two weeks’ time.

Adour Alain Ducasse (2 E. 55th Street at Fifth Avenue in the St. Regis Hotel, East Midtown)

Bobo

Note: This is a review of Bobo under chef Jered Stafford-Hill, who was replaced by Patrick Connolly in mid-2008, and then by Cedric Tovar in early 2012.

*

Tenth Street in the West Village is quickly turning into a new Restaurant Row, with p*ong and Bar Blanc, and now Bobo, which opened in September, within steps of each other.

Things didn’t exactly start out well for Bobo. There was a Ducasse-trained chef, Nicolas Cantrel, in the kitchen, but Bobo was panned. The Restaurant Girl said that “Bobo…is a no-no.” Gotham Gal didn’t like it either. Cantrel left in December. It was described as an amicable parting, but something is amiss when the chef leaves after less than two months.

Rick Jakobson and Jared Stafford-Hill were brought in to revamp the kitchen, though as of last Friday the menu still seemed to be basically the same as Cantrel was serving. Despite the early hiccups, we thought we’d give Bobo a try.

If Bobo can settle down, it could easily become one of the most romantic spots in town. It has the loveliest dining room we have seen in a very long time. The name, derived from bourgeois bohemian is admittedly a bit precious, and so is the concept:

…inspired by European dinner parties, celebrating the shared experience of dining with family and friends in a warm setting. So that, even at 5 o’clock in the morning, your guests haven’t even considered leaving.

But Bobo really grows on you. The food isn’t consistent enough yet, but perhaps it’s getting there.

 

I started with a wonderful spaghetti appetizer (above left), and a codfish entrée (above right) was first-rate. My girlfriend found the foie gras terrine satisfactory, but Chicken Grand-Mère—a holdover from the Cantrel era—was slightly overcooked, as indeed other critics had found it.

There are several enjoyable house cocktails: I especially liked Bobo’s Mead (Plymouth gin, Lime, Lavender-infused honey). The staff transferred the bar tab to our table, as all decent restaurants should, but alas, many do not. We were also pleased to see a real choice of decent red wines below $50. Service was just fine, aside from slightly stale bread rolls.

Bobo is a restaurant you want to root for. The early negative press doesn’t seem to have hurt very much, as the space was close to full on a Friday evening. I look forward to visiting again after the new chefs have their own menu in place.

Bobo (181 W. 10th Street at Seventh Avenue South, West Village)

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

Momofuku Ssäm Bar

Is it possible to be more hyped than David Chang? Where should we start? In 2007, he was the James Beard Rising Star Chef of the Year. Both Bon Appétit and GQ named him Chef of the Year. Frank Bruni awarded two stars to Momofuku Ssäm Bar, then named it Best New Restaurant of 2007, despite the little detail that it opened in 2006.

On eGullet.com, a crowd of adoring admirers has all-but canonized him. They said that Ssäm Bar was at the vanguard of a “New Paradigm” of “haute cheap” restaurant dining. Discussion board regulars criticised me, not because I disliked Momofuku Ssäm Bar (which I don’t) but because I failed to exhibit the required paroxysm of rapture. In truth, on two previous visits I found the food at Ssäm Bar very good indeed, though the ambiance leaves a lot to be desired.

That’s the backdrop to the very generous offer I received last week from eGullet regular Nathan, to join him for a Bo Ssäm, the one remaining item at Momofuku Ssäm Bar that I was really dying to try.

The Bo Ssäm is a 10-pound Berkshire pork butt (the shoulder, actually), braised for seven hours. Ssäm Bar serves two of them a night. A Bo Ssäm pre-order is the only way to get a reservation—6:00 p.m. or 10:00 p.m. (11:00 on weekends). It requires a big group, which I’m not quite enterprising enough to put together myself, so I was grateful that Nathan did all of the organizing: he’s so fond of the Bo Ssäm that this is the third time he’s ordered it. And he’ll probably do it again.

Current Menu (click to expand)

Prices at Momofuku Ssäm Bar are gradually inching upward, with many items a dollar or two higher than they were last year. The Bo Ssäm, which was $165 just fifteen months ago, is now $200. There are now two tasting menus ($45 and $75). The wine list has expanded a bit, though I don’t find any of the choices particularly impressive, and most bottles are over $50.

Nathan ordered the appetizers, and our party of nine was able to sample a good deal of the Ssäm Bar menu.

Diver Sea Scallops — lychee, yuzu, watercress (left); Seasonal Pickles (right)

We started with Diver Sea Scallops ($16), which I enjoyed, although Ssäm Bar regulars said that an earlier version of the dish was better. Seasonal Pickles ($10) offer plenty of taste contrasts.

Fuji Apple Kimchi — Burgers’ smoked jowl, maple labne, arugula (left); Steamed Pork Buns (right)

Fuji Apple Kimchi ($13) is one of the regulars’ current favorites, and it can’t be denied that the apple and bacon combination works beautifully. Steamed Buns ($10) with juicy pork belly is a dish that can’t miss.

Fried Brussels Sprouts — chilies, mint, fish sauce (left); Spicy Tripe Salad — poached egg, frisee (right)

I remembered the Fried Brussels Sprouts ($12) from my first visit. They’re terrific, so it’s no surprise they’ve remained on the menu. I was not especially fond of the Spicy Tripe Salad ($15).

Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes — Chinese broccoli, crispy shallots (left); Grilled Veal Sweetbreads (right)

I don’t have a particular recollection of Spicy Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes ($18), but I loved Grilled Veal Sweetbreads ($15)—usually, they’re served fried, breaded or sautéed, but when simply grilled they stand up beautifully on their own.

Santa Barbara Sea Urchin — tapioca, whipped tofu, scallions (left); One dozen oysters (right)

The Santa Barbara Sea Urchin ($16) with tapioca and whipped tofu is a much celebrated dish. I certainly respect the creativity that went into it, but I wasn’t all that enamored with it.

At this point, I felt like I’d already had a full meal, and the pièce de résistance (accompanied by a dozen oysters), hadn’t even been served yet.

The Bo Ssäm in all its Glory

The Bo Ssäm could almost be called liquid pork: it is braised to a point of such tenderness that the meat practically collapses at the touch. It comes with leaves of lettuce; you are supposed to put the pork inside, add sauce, wrap it up, and eat it like a burrito—that’s what the “Ssäm” in the restuarant’s name actually means. I tried this once, but from then on I was content to just eat the pork itself. It is so luscious that one can hardly be bothered to interrupt the appointed journey from plate to mouth. This must be one of the top ten dishes in New York.

 
Cheddar Shortcake — apples, ham cream (left); Hazelnut Torte — parsnip buttercream, grapefruit (right)

Desserts, which could so easily be an afterthought at such a restaurant, were first-rate. I especially liked the Amish Cheddar Shortcake ($9), with an almost wickedly clever “ham cream.” Hazelnut Torte ($9) wasn’t bad either.

With nine certified foodies at the table, it’s no surprise that the State of the Momofuku Empire was a topic of conversation. One of my companions admitted that he had expected to see Momofuku clones springing up; so far, it hasn’t happened. My own view is that Ssäm Bar is sui generis. Impressive as the food may be, it lacks almost every other amenity that a good restaurant should have—a place to hang up your coat, for instance. As prices continue to rise, and Chang is distracted by other projects, I wonder if Ssäm Bar’s charms may start to fade as diners come to grips with its limitations.

There are signs that Chang’s act is starting to wear a little thin. Over on Grub Street, Cutlets suggested that Chang, “earnest and talented as he is…needs to be reassessed.” Over on Eater.com, a contributor complained that the very dish that Momofuku Ssäm Bar was named for—the $10 Momofuku Ssäm—is no longer offered at dinner.

What on earth is Chang up to? Another of my dining companions, a Ssäm Bar regular, conceded that “I’ve never seen him here.” Two weeks ago, Chang announced that “it’s clear some of us need to step aside and let the real talent shine,” naming new chef–partners for his two current East Village restaurants, as well as the still-unopened Momofuku Ko.

You have to wonder if all of the accolades are going to his head. If Thomas Keller—who has more restaurants than Chang—is in the kitchen at The French Laundry on most evenings, then why is Chang “stepping off to work on new restaurant projects” when, less than two years ago, all he had was a noodle bar? As Cutlets notes, “Ko will have to be phenomenal (and, let’s be honest, it very well could be) to shield him from what could be some backlash against the flood of praise bestowed upon the young chef in the past year.”

I don’t think Chang is the certified genius that some people say, but you have to give him credit for the remarkable phenomenon that is Momofuku Ssäm Bar. No one knows where it will go from here, but it certainly won’t be boring.

Momofuku Ssäm Bar (207 Second Avenue at 13th Street, East Village)

Food: **
Service: *
Ambiance: Burrito Bar
Overall: **