The Payoff: Resto

Frank Bruni resumed his assault on the star system yesterday, after a few months when most of his ratings actually seemed somewhat sensible. Resto won two stars (the same as The Modern and Gordon Ramsay), apparently because it has great lamb ribs, french fries with mayonaise, and perhaps one or two other good dishes.

Those stars come with a “forewarning”:

Resto — the name is slang for restaurant [thank heavens he cleared that up] — doesn’t take reservations for groups smaller than six, and on some nights there’s a 45-minute wait by 7:30. It can be difficult to reach the bar through the crowd around it and even tougher to hear servers through the din.

If that wasn’t enough Bruni for one week, you can read his Critic’s Notebook piece on Marc Vetri’s pair of Italian restaurants in Philadelphia, Vetri and Osteria. It’s nice to see Bruni branch out a bit, but why must it always be Italian?

In the wagering department, NYJ absorbs another tough loss this week, losing $1 on our hypothetical bet, while Eater wins a whopping $5. We should have remembered our own advice: the restaurants Bruni chooses to review—as opposed to those he must review—are usually two stars.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$30.00		$32.67
Gain/Loss	+$5.00		–$1.00
Total	$35.00		$31.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	13–2		11–4

The Tasting Room

Note: Click here for a review of the Tasting Room’s hamburger and the 2008 menu changes. As of June 2008, the Tasting Room has closed. The restaurant Jo’s replaced it.

The Tasting Room opened in 2000 in the East Village, and was an immediate hit. Those were the days when the East Village hadn’t quite “arrived” as a dining destination. But diners flocked to the Tasting Room anyway. William Grimes of the Times wasn’t quite as impressed, awarding just one star.

Chef Colin Alevras and his wife Renée eventually outgrew the 11-table space, and last year they moved to NoLIta, tripling the size of the restaurant. (The old space is now the Tasting Room Wine Bar and Café.) Was the move an improvement? Adam Platt of New York says yes, awarding two stars. Frank Bruni of the Times says no, awarding just one.

Bruni endured sub-par service, but the early hiccups have now been worked out. We had a thoroughly enjoyable experience at the Tasting Room last Saturday night. Alevras may not hit a home run with every dish, but most of what he does is first-class, and the service team is on top of their game.

The menu’s main conceit—from which the restaurant draws its name—is that each dish is available in two portion sizes: “taste” and “share.” These basically correspond to appetizer and entrée portions. The menu is divided into two sections on facing pages—“To Start” and “To Continue”—and you can have either a taste or a share of any item, on either side.

Got that? It gets more confusing still. Although the larger portions are labeled “To Share,” the server recommended ordering five or six “Tastes,” and sharing those. So, it turns out that the “Tastes” can be shared, too. If you longed for a simpler ordering system, you would be entirely justified.

On the starter side of the menu, tastes are $11–16, shares are $18–28. On the entrée side of the menu, tastes are $16–25, shares are $28–46. The most expensive share is not what you’d expect: it’s a serving of Morel & Porcini Mushrooms. The menu changes daily, according to market availability. There were many items that appealed to us, but we finally settled on five “tastes,” to share.

 
Asparagus (left); Guinea Hen Terrine (right)

The Tasting Room’s creations tend to have a lot of ingredients. Asparagus ($14) came with spinach, crushed eggs, and a buckwheat crèpe. A Guinea Hen Terrine ($14) came with wildflower pollen mustard, a toasted English muffin, onion, and pickled beans. The asparagus was just fine, though I didn’t think the buckwheat crèpe added anything. The terrine was wonderful, but we had never seen such red poultry, and we wondered if it were a mistake. The server assured us it was not. Once again, the English muffin didn’t add much.

 
Alaskan King Salmon (left); Lamb Meatballs (right)

Since we had ordered five savory courses, one of them had to come by itself, and that was the Alaskan King Salmon ($22). The menu announced a bunch of accompaniments (chicory, comfrey, green onion, fava bean leaves, sorrel), but they could have been potato chips for all we cared. The salmon ruled here, and it was as tender as you could ever wish for. This was the one must-have dish that we tried.

Lamb Meatballs ($17) came with another cavalcade of supporting actors: shiitake mushrooms, tatsoi, spring onion, grits. Notwithstanding all that, the meatballs seemed like a dish you could make at home—not bad by any means, but not that special either.

 
Ossabow Island Pork Belly “under Glass” (left); Selection of American Farmhouse Cheeses (right)

Curiously, the Pork Belly ($18) was the one menu item only offered in the smaller-sized portion. It came to the table with a glass “bell” over the plate, which the server removed in a “Voila” moment. As usual, the pork came with plenty of friends (mushrooms, buckwheat, ramps), but it didn’t need all that help. It was a luscious serving, rich in fat and bountiful in flavor.

We concluded with the cheese plate ($15) with walnut raisin bread, which was just fine, but didn’t have the smooth-to-sharp progression of the better cheese selections we’ve had.

Even in its original location, the Tasting Room was known for its selection of American wines, many from obscure producers. The present list is still mainly American, but there are ample selections from France and a few other places.

Given the restaurant’s emphasis on locally-sourced ingredients, we wondered why there weren’t more Long Island wines on the list. But it was not an evening to solve that mystery, so we turned to California: Alder Grenache 2004, Alisos Vinyard, Santa Barbara County ($48), which went well with the rest of our order.

I left with the sense that many of the dishes could do with one or two fewer ingredients, but Alevras has a sure-handed touch with poultry, fish, and meats. Out of our six choices, not one was disappointing. The King Salmon and the Pork Belly were especially impressive.

The décor is a kind of “barnyard chic” that’s appropriate for the neighborhood. We had a 6:30 p.m. reservation, and the space didn’t really start to heat up until we were about ready to leave. We didn’t find it overly noisy. Service was knowledgeable and attentive.

I can’t make comparisons to the old Tasting Room, which I never visited, but the current version seems to have its act together.

The Tasting Room (264 Elizabeth Street, south of Houston Street, NoLIta)

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

Rolling the Dice: Resto

Every week, we take our turn with Lady Luck on the BruniBetting odds as posted by Eater. Just for kicks, we track Eater’s bet too, and see who is better at guessing what the unpredictable Bruni will do. We track our sins with an imaginary $1 bet every week.

The Line: Tomorrow, Frank Bruni reviews the foolishly-named Belgian eatery Resto. Eater’s official odds are as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 4-1
One Star: 2-1
Two Stars: 5-1 √√
Three Stars: 75-1
Four Stars: 25,000-1

The Skinny: In this week’s game, jokers are wild. Anything can happen. As Eater points out, Resto would have historically belonged in the $25-and-under critic’s territory, and wouldn’t have had a starred review at all. But with Peter Meehan reviewing taco trucks these days, any restaurant with seating defaults to Bruni. With most of the entrées at Resto priced below $20, this is precisely the kind of restaurant Bruni loves.

Bruni certainly hasn’t hesitated to award two stars to unlikely candidates. But when he does so, it’s usually only when the restaurant has already achieved a significant “foodie following.” Frank then swoops in, and his rating confirms what the experts already knew. Resto has flown mostly under the radar, notwithstanding a 4-out-of-5 rating on New York’s “casual scale.” If any of the usual suspects have suggested that Resto was a NYT two-star restaurant, I must have missed it.

Frank sometimes grades on a gentler curve when reviewing restaurants in under-served neighborhoods, but no one would seriously suggest that 29th Street at Park Avenue South is such a neighborhood.

The Bet: Though we won’t be surprised to wake up to a two-star review, we are going to bet conservatively this week on one star.

p*ong

Note: p*ong closed in March 2009. The space became the Scottish-themed restaurant Highlands.

*

After an underwhelming dinner at FR.OG, we didn’t quite feel ready to call it an evening, so we headed over to p*ong, the new dessert place by former Spice Market pastry chef Pichet Ong.

Actually, that’s not quite accurate. p*ong has savory courses on its menu too, like a shrimp and mango ceviche ($12), bluefin tuna tartare ($14), or American wagyu carpaccio ($19). A ten-course tasting menu is $59, with six savory and four sweet courses. But it’s for desserts that Pichet Ong made his name, and it’s for desserts that we dropped in.

The specialty cocktails looked interesting, so I gave the Bangkok Margarita ($12) a try. Made with tequilla, pineapple, ginger juice, agave, and aleppo pepper, it packed a hefty punch.

For those who come only for dessert, there’s a three-course tasting for $25, or a five-course tasting that includes cheese for $35. Most of the individual desserts are either $10 or $12. We were a little too full for a dessert tasting menu, but we ordered two of the items featured on that menu, and shared.

 
Chevre Cheesecake Croquette (left); Malted chocolate Bavarian tart (right)

Chevre Cheesecake Croquette ($10) came with pineapple, a walnut crust, and chocolate-coffee fudge. I lean toward the theory that the basic cheesecake is too perfect to fool around with, but in this case the walnut crust worked perfectly with a wonderful gooey cheesecake.

The Malted Chocolate Bavarian Tart ($12) was topped with carmelized banana and served with Ovaltine ice cream on the side. This was less memorable than the cheesecake, but I’m not a choco-holic, so you can take that with a grain of salt.

We weren’t sure whether petits-fours or the plate they came on were the more interesting attraction, but we appreciated both.

Service seemed a bit rushed to us. There was about a 15-minute wait for a table when we arrived at 10:00 p.m. By the time we were seated, the restaurant was clearing out, so we saw no good reason for the food to come quite as briskly as it did.

We suspect that the rhythm of the place is geared to quick table-turning, as there are West Village rents to pay, with a menu that doesn’t lend itself to large tabs. Still, two desserts and two drinks came to $55.27 including tax (before tip). We’re in our 40s, and we didn’t notice many patrons older than us. Long-term success will depend on drawing in diners who are willing to spend that kind of money on dessert.

We weren’t quite as enamored with p*ong as we were with Room 4 Dessert, but p*ong is plenty of fun. Both the signature cocktails and the desserts warrant more exploration, and I wouldn’t mind giving the savory courses a shot. Make sure to look at a map before you go, as it’s located at one of those West Village intersections where one can easily get lost.

p*ong (150 West 10th Street at Waverley Place, West Village)

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

FR.OG

Note: Didier Virot left FR.OG in late 2007 to open a new restaurant in the Plaza Hotel. Jarett Brodie was his replacement. In a move of dazzling subtlety, the owners finally dropped the period from the restaurant’s title, and added a new basement lounge called “Origine.” Did they believe that a mere period was enough to change this restaurant’s fortunes? As of October 2008, it was closed. In December, it briefly re-opened as FROG Café. That move didn’t work either.

*

FR.OG is the latest offering from Chef Didier Virot with partner Philip Kirsh, who also own the restaurant Aix on the Upper West Side. Aix had its share of pains, as Virot’s upscale cuisine wasn’t a good fit for the neighborhood, and the place was later re-imagined as a more casual brasserie. FR.OG doesn’t appear to be off to a good start, either. It scored a rare pan from Restaurant Girl, and landed on the Eater Deathwatch just eight days after it opened (about a month ago, as I write this).

Bread Service
 

Cucumber Tomato SaladThe name, which is hardly appetizing, stands for “France Origine.” The theme is the cuisines of nations that have been inspired by the French, although the primary influence on display seems to be Moroccan. The décor is SoHo Chic, and could as easily be home to an ice cream parlor or a tapas bar. Eater justifies the early deathwatch with the explanation that no restaurant of this kind has survived.

I’m not ready to write off FR.OG just yet, but it needs to get better. We were pleased with the bread service—warm sliced pita with dipping sauce—but the visual presentation left a lot to be desired.

I started with the cucumber tomato salad with yogurt lime dressing and cilantro ($10). Consistent with the evening’s theme, the dish was enjoyable to eat, but the plating wasn’t pretty to look at.

Braised Lamb shank with Roasted Duck Breast

But that salad plating was worthy of Picasso compared to the entrée, a braised lamb shank with roasted duck breast, with cinnamon, chickpea, red onion, and Moroccan couscous ($28). The shotgun wedding of lamb and duck seemed bizarre, and the distinctly unappetizing presentation on the plate looked like slop. Having said that, Virot did a terrific job with the couscous and the duck. The lamb shank tasted just fine, but there didn’t seem to be any attempt to impart any flavor beyond what ordinary kitchen braising would produce.

Platings are indeed the problem here. Restaurant Girl complained about the phallic-looking Colossal Shrimp, which looked just as absurd in person as it did on her blog.

The wine list at FR.OG has some truly intriguing choices at good prices. We loved a 2003 Mas de la Dame ‘Le Stele’, from Provence, a region not often featured in restaurants. The appellation, Les Baux de Provence, was unfamiliar to me, but the 40/60 Cabernet/Syrah blend was the evening’s highlight.

The SoHo crowd was late to arrive, but by 9:30 p.m. or so, the space was nearly full, and by then we could only barely hear ourselves talk. Come to think of it, we were shouting and cupping our ears for most of the evening. FR.OG isn’t particularly pleasant.

The food has potential, but it needs some fine-tuning. At least, it is not terribly expensive. Appetizers are $9–18, entrées $24–36. We skipped dessert, and headed over to p*ong.

FR.OG (71 Spring Street between Lafayette & Crosby Streets, SoHo)

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

Harry's Steak

I’ve written about Harry’s Steak twice now (here; here), and normally wouldn’t have thought there was any more worth saying about the place.

But the other night they were offering a special so unusual that I had to blog about it: a bone-in filet mignon. Filet is virtually always served off-the-bone, so I was sufficiently curious that I ordered it. Steaks cooked on the bone are usually more flavorful, and that certainly seemed true here. The combination wet–dry aging process left it with a cool mineral flavor. It was cooked with a nice char, to the requested medium-rare temperature.

Harry’s offers all of the usual steakhouse sides, but I ordered the Peas & Bacon ($8.50), which is a bit more offbeat. It was the kind of dish that could make me into a pea-lover (not an easy task), though I didn’t taste much of the bacon.

When the bill arrived, I was surprised to learn that the filet was $55. The other steaks at Harry’s, including their off-the-bone filet, are around the $40 mark (the going rate in Manhattan), and I had no reason to expect the filet would be any different. Most restaurants don’t recite the price of the specials unless you ask. But I do think they have an obligation to say something if one of the specials is significantly more expensive than the rest of their menu.

In multiple visits to Harry’s, I’ve never found it crowded. Servers are friendly and competent, but as noted here and on past occasions, they have a tendency to up-sell. However, for the pure steak lover, Harry’s gives the better places in town a run for their money.

Harry’s Steak (97 Pearl Street at Hanover Square, Financial District)

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

BLT Prime

I previously awarded three stars to BLT Prime, based on two earlier visits—especially my first visit (the second wasn’t so impressive). Three stars for a steakhouse? Was that irrational exuberance?

Recently, I sampled the BLT experience yet again. Do Laurent Tourondel’s steakhouses kick ass? Yes, they do. Does that accomplishment warrant three stars? Probably not.

We visited on Mother’s Day at around 7:00 p.m. without a reservation. The restaurant was perhaps a little over half full. That fact signals BLT Prime’s limitation, for though the food is excellent, its heavy-handed informality is a deterrent on special occasions. (On most other nights BLT Prime seems to fill up easily—that’s my unscientific observation based on periodic OpenTable scans.)

Some aspects of the service remain incomprehensible. Given that the menu is a loose sheet of paper that obviously must be reprinted frequently—probably daily—why must the specials be printed on a separate piece of paper? And why drop off two copies of the menu, but only one of the specials? And why is the menu also displayed on large boards in a corner of the restaurant where perhaps only 20% of diners can see it?

 

The BLT restaurants are a carb-o-phile’s dream. First come two slices of country bread, with a terrific pâté to spread. Then come the legendary popovers with soft, creamy butter. At this point, anyone with a normal stomach is already feeling half-full, and the appetizers haven’t even arrived yet. Knowing this would be the case, we didn’t order appetizers and went streat to the steaks.

We were both drawn to the five-pepper crusted bone-in New York strip ($42), one of the daily specials. The mineral taste from dry aging was superb, and the steak had a beautifully charred exterior, with just the right fat content. This was about as good a preparation of NY strip as they come. Horseradish sauce (one of nine offered) complemented the steak nicely. Potato skins ($8) were competently done, but a tad too dry.

Two small petits-fours after dinner were a bonus not normally expected at a steakhouse, though we hardly needed any more calories at this point.

As it was a Sunday evening, we didn’t order a whole bottle of wine, but I noted there were no bargains to be had on the list, and wines by the glass didn’t come cheap either. We each had a glass of the house pinot noir ($14).

With Laurent Tourondel constantly opening new BLTs, he can’t be paying much attention to the existing ones. I’ve paid about nine visits in total to his various restaurants, and they can be maddeningly uneven. Brasserie Ruhlmann, the only kitchen he runs that doesn’t have his initials in the name, is an embarrassment. But at BLT Prime, he left a solid management team in place. It’s a “BLT” still worth visiting, even if Tourondel is busy elsewhere.

BLT Prime (111 East 22nd Street between Park and Lexington Avenues, Gramercy)

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

The Four Seasons

Note: Click here for a more recent review of the Four Seasons.

*

The Four Seasons is an iconic restaurant. Located in the Seagram Building at 52nd & Park, it opened in 1959 to immediate acclaim. Architect Philip Johnson designed the interior, which cost $4.5 million to build. Even today, that would be a large sum to invest in a restaurant. The space is landmarked—the only Manhattan restaurant to be so designated. (There are other restaurants in landmarked buildings, but no other restaurants that are landmarks themselves.)

Reviewing for The New York Times on October 2, 1959, Craig Claiborne wrote:

There has never been a restaurant better keyed to the tempo of Manhattan than the Four Seasons, which opened recently at 99 East Fifty-second Street.

Both in décor and in menu, it is spectacular, modern and audaceous. It is expensive and opulent and it is perhaps the most exciting restaurant to open in new York within the last two decades. On the whole, the cuisine is exquisite in the sense that la grande cuisine française is exquisite.

The Pool RoomThese days, the Four Seasons is mostly known as a power lunch destination. In the famous grill room, one may rub noses with Hillary Clinton, Henry Kissinger, Mike Bloomberg, or Sandy Weill. The serene pool room is one of the city’s most romantic dining spots. Celebrities have flocked there from the beginning. John F. Kennedy had his 45th birthday party at the Four Seasons, of which the restaurant doesn’t fail to remind you: a copy of the menu for that occasion is bound into the wine list.

For many years, the kitchen at the Four Seasons turned out food that justified all that attention. eGullet historian Leonard Kim found numerous Times reviews from 1971 onward—generally three stars, although in 1979, its twentieth anniversary year, Mimi Sheraton demoted it to two. Her successor, Bryan Miller, restored it to three stars in 1985. He re-affirmed that rating in 1990, as did Ruth Reichl in 1995.

The BarIn recent times, no one has suggested that the Four Seasons is a hotbed of culinary invention. Earlier this year, Frank Bruni demoted the Four Seasons to two stars, where it is likely to remain for a very long time. Christian Albin has been in charge of the kitchen for the last seventeen years, and though the menu does change with the seasons, Albin is not a risk-taker. He dutifully turns out the continental classics that the restaurant’s conservative clientele demands. Bruni found, and I concur, that the cooking can be terrific, but it can be boring and sloppy too.

Though I expected no pyrotechnic fireworks on the plate, I nevertheless craved a visit to the legendary Four Seasons, and my friend Kelly’s 37th birthday provided the occasion. Frank Bruni warned that this is “a restaurant that runs on two tracks — one for the anonymous, another for the anointed.” As Kelly and I are clearly in the former category, I wondered how we’d be treated.

I needn’t have worried on that score. I requested a Pool Room table, and we were indeed seated there, close to the famous pool. The serving staff at the Four Seasons seem mildly bored with their lot in life, but they provided classic, efficient service. When I arrived a bit wet (it was raining, and I’d forgotten my umbrella), the host handed me a napkin to dry off with. I started the evening with a drink at the bar, and the tab was transferred to my dinner bill, as it should be at any fine restaurant. At no point were we made to feel anything less than special.

The prices are eye-popping, with most appetizers $18–42 (not counting caviar at $140), and most entrées $37–56 (with lobster $75 and Kobe beef $125). Of sixteen entrées, eight are over $50, and only three are under $40. As far as I know, it is the most expensive à la carte menu in town. While we enjoyed almost everything we had, it was one of those celebratory occasions when price is really beside the point. Viewed in the cold light of day, very little that the kitchen produces can justify these prices.

To start, I had the Beef Tartare with Osetra Caviar ($38; above right), an assembly-line dish that had none of the tangy, spicy seasoning I was longing for. Kelly started with an assortment of oysters and clams ($25; below), with which she seemed satisfied.

I was keen to have the duck, which was one of the few dishes Frank Bruni really loved. Fortunately, Kelly was of the same mind, since it’s served only for two ($55 per person). As Bruni put it, the duck, carved tableside, “emerges from a Peking-style sequence of many days and steps, is as astonishing as ever, a knockout of crunchy skin and succulent meat.” Have I ever had duck better than this? Not that I recall.

Kelly loves soufflés ($15), so we ordered them for dessert: strawberry for her, Grand Marnier for me. We both thought the strawberry was a little better, though neither one matched the absurdly decadent chocolate soufflé we had at Town.

I alerted the management in advance that this was Kelly’s birthday, and they brought one of the odder birthday cakes I’ve seen: a large ball of cotton candy with a candle on top. It was probably the most creative idea they had, but after a few bites the cotton candy quickly became cloying. There was an attractive selection of petits-fours, and we finished nearly all of them.

For a restaurant of this calibre, I was surprised to find that the wine list was rather unimpressive. Indeed, more pages of the little book are devoted to photos from the restaurant’s past than to wines. However, I was happy to find a wonderful 1999 Gewurtztraminer from Alsace for $76. At the restaurant’s overall price level, I considered it a bargain. It arrived at our table before we were done with our champagne, and the server was astute enough not to pour it right away—a nice touch that many restaurants wouldn’t get right.

While I wouldn’t visit the Four Seasons for the food alone, the whole package is certainly impressive. For the right special occasion, I’d be happy to dine there again.

The Four Seasons (99 East 52nd Street between Park and Lexington Avenues, East Midtown)

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

The Payoff: Anthos

As expected, Frank Bruni awarded the deuce to Anthos. It was as enthusiastic as Frank gets at the two-star level, and he implied that the restaurant fell only a whisker short of three:

[Anthos is] the restaurant you might get if you triangulated between Onera and Dona. It has the former’s resoundingly Greek soul. It has the latter’s fussy tics and more sophisticated wine list, with sommeliers who can guide you through the impressive advances of Greek winemaking.

It’s better than its predecessors, although it doesn’t come together quite smoothly or sharply enough to loft Mr. Psilakis and Ms. Arpaia to the level they clearly aspire to and will almost certainly reach.

The review marks the return of Fussy Frank. As we’ve often remarked, Frank does not like fine dining—a peculiar deficiency in a critic assigned to cover high-end restaurants. And “fussy” is his favorite word when he feels he’s been pampered too much.

The precise reasons for the two-star rating border on incoherent. He says, “Much of the cooking is inspired, and much of it is excellent.” What’s the Venn Diagram for that statement? Is some of the food inspired, but not excellent? Excellent, but not inspired? Later on, the servers’ exuberance “communicates a self-consciousness that only a few of the dishes are transcendent enough to justify,” and “not everything that arrives is worth the wait.”

Later still, “the ratio of hits to misses is better at Anthos than at Dona” (a restaurant he loved), but he wishes “the kitchen’s efforts” were “just a little more selective and straightforward.” Good luck making any sense of that smorgasbord of “almost…but not quite” sentences. The one thing he makes clear is that he likes this restaurant better than any Arpaia/Psilakis production to date, but in the end, lands at the same two-star rating given to the rest of them.

Eater and I both placed identical $1 winning bets on Anthos at 2–1 odds, so each of us wins a hypothetical $2.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$28.00		$30.67
Gain/Loss	+$2.00		+$2.00
Total	$30.00		$32.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	12–2		11–3

Rolling the Dice: Anthos

Every week, we take our turn with Lady Luck on the BruniBetting odds as posted by Eater. Just for kicks, we track Eater’s bet too, and see who is better at guessing what the unpredictable Bruni will do. We track our sins with an imaginary $1 bet every week.

The Line: Tomorrow, Frank Bruni reviews the haute Greek restaurant Anthos, the latest collaboration of chef Michael Psilakis with the comely restauranteur Donatella Arpaia. Eater’s official odds are as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 7-1
One Star: 4-1
Two Stars: 2-1 √√
Three Stars: 7-1
Four Stars: 25,000-1

The Skinny: All indications point to two stars. Frank Bruni has already awarded that rating to two other Psilakis restaurants, Onera and Dona, and he seems hopelessly besotted with Arpaia.

At one point, we thought Anthos could be headed for a trifecta, which was no doubt Psilakis’s intention when he closed Onera, and announced he was going for something more upscale. But no critic so far has been wowed by Anthos, and Bruni isn’t the type who says a restaurant is better than everyone else says it is.

We agree with the Eater oddsmakers that one star is more likely than three, but that would be a very significant slapdown. Bruni’s affinity for Everything Arpaia will save the day.

The Bet: We agree with Eater that Frank Bruni will award two stars to Anthos.