Wolfgang's TriBeCa

I’ve been to Wolfgang’s Steakhouse in Murray Hill several times. It’s like Peter Luger in Manhattan, except that they take credit cards, the menu has more variety, and the serving staff are a whole lot friendlier. Steakhouses are my great weakness, so I was delighted when a branch of Wolfgang’s was announced for a building literally across the street from my office. Construction was plagued with delays, and it finally opened only a few weeks ago.

As an aside, Wolfgang’s TriBeCa was supposedly the first construction permit granted in New York City that fell under a new law that any public accommodation must have twice as many women’s bathroom stalls as there are men’s stalls. It’s a little ironic that Wolfgang’s would be the first, given the male-dominated clientele of most steakhouses.

The new space is considerably larger than the Murray Hill flagship. There are actually some soft surfaces in the room, so you don’t feel like you’re in an echo chamber, as you do uptown. The menu is identical in both restaurants. Prices are a bargain by steakhouse standards, with most steaks for one priced at $36.50, and the Canadian Bacon appetizer still priced at the ludicrously-low $2.75.

My friend had never had the Luger-style Canadian Bacon, so I persuaded her to give it a try. When you see the price of $2.75, you figure it has to be a microscopic portion. But I’ve learned from experience that one slice is all anyone can eat. And on this occasion, the bacon slices were even larger than I remembered them. They may be 85% fat, but boy are they good.

My friend does not care for porterhouse (Wolfgang’s specialty), so we both ordered the ribeye. The marbling was a bit less even than some of the better ribeyes I’ve had lately, but the meat was wonderfully tender. The aging program at Wolfgang’s is obviously working to perfection. A creamed spinach side dish was perfectly prepared, and I was happy to see a good bread service, with some delicious onion rolls.

The wine list is a little on the expensive side, but we were able to find an fine cabernet at around $50. Service was friendly—even Wolfgang himself came over to check on our table. It was a Friday night, and the restaurant was doing a decent business, but was not full. Those who were there seemed to be mostly couples from the neighborhood. But there was a boistrous table for 12–14 men in ties, most likely investment bankers. On most weeknights, I suspect this will be Wolfgang’s core clientele.

Wolfgang’s TriBeCa (409 Greenwich Street between Hubert & Beach Streets, TriBeCa)

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

Dona

Note: Dona closed in early 2007, after Arpaia lost her lease. (Well, technically she was bought out, but the landlord created a situation where there was no real option to stay.) A more casual version of the concept, Mia Dona, opened six blocks north in February 2008.

*

Dona is the latest restaurant creation of impresaria Donatella Arpaia, who also brought us David Burke & Donatella (DB&D) on the upper East Side and Ama in SoHo. All three opened in about a two-year span, so you can conclude that Arpaia doesn’t linger over her creations (indeed, she has already exited her partnership in Ama).

DB&D is one of the hottest restaurant openings of the last several years, and as far as I can tell, it’s still a tough table to get. Dona is just getting started. Arpaia’s partner is chef Michael Psilakis. The website is just a stub right now, showing a photo of Arpaia and Psilakis, with “Modern European Cuisine” in big letters.

I took a friend to Dona a couple of weeks ago. The space is attractively decorated, and the sound is nowhere near as deafening as at DB&D. Actually, I’m happy to say that we could hear ourselves talk without much trouble at all. There was a pleasant buzz, but it wasn’t packed. On the other hand, Dona isn’t a breakaway hit, like DB&D. The day of my reservation, I had to change the time from 6:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. “We can do that,” said the reservationist. In contrast, last time I went to DB&D, we were sternly told that we had to keep our original time, and if we were more than 20 minutes late, we’d lose our table.

The menu has separate sections for cold appetizers ($12–16), hot appetizers ($13–15), pasta ($18–24), fish ($26–32) and meat ($24–45). For $75, you can choose two appetizers, a pasta, and a fish or meat course, and we went that route. It’s been about 10 days now, but I believe I had the Tartare (two contrasting raw fish bites), Spiced Almond Crusted Prawns (two hefty ones), Gnuci (sheep’s milk ricotta dumplings), and the pork chop.

My recollection is that it was all solidly done, but I was not wowed. The enormous pork chop came slathered in a heavy tomato-based ragout. It struck me that this was: A) far too much food after three earlier courses; and B) far too heavy for a summer menu. It didn’t go to waste, though, as my friend took home a doggie bag.

Service was friendly, and we were quite pleased both with a sparkling rosé that we ordered before dinner and a sauterne that we ordered afterwards.

Dona (208 E. 52nd St. between Second & Third Avenues, Turtle Bay)

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

Knife + Fork

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Knife + Fork.

The new restaurant Knife + Fork (spelled thus) has attracted a lot of attention lately. Andrea Strong gave it a great review in late July, and it was the recipient of a somewhat longer-than-usual blog post by Frank Bruni a few days later.

Knife + Fork turns out food of unusual ambition for its neighborhood. It’s a small space in the East Village, owned and operated by chef Damien Brassel and his wife. The six-course tasting menu for just $45 puts the shame to other restaurants’ offerings at double the price. Although Bruni complained about the over-use of truffle oil (something we did not notice) he added, “I’m hard pressed to think of another restaurant in New York that packs as much ambition into a price that restrained.” He clearly liked the place, as he mentioned having paid several visits. I suspect he’s going to give Knife + Fork time to shake out the kinks before considering a formal review in the newspaper.

We weren’t in a tasting-menu mood, but our selections from the à la carte menu convinced us that Brassel is doing great things. The amuse was a shot of clear, hot tomato soup. Seared foie gras sent me into orbit, and it was about double the portion size that many restaurants serve. My friend had a warm goat cheese and polenta appetizer that she pronounced amazing. I found a Mahi Mahi entrée a bit stringy, although I enjoyed the crisp skin. I’m not sure whether it was entirely the chef’s fault. I would have preferred a regular knife to cut it with; fish knives are always a burden, except with the most pliant flesh. My friend found lamb loin almost revelatory. Platings were all attractive and creative.

With starters all $15 or less, and mains $25 or less, Knife + Fork delivers an outstanding value. Because it is near a school, there is no hard liquor license, but they do serve wine. Actually, the establishment bills itself as a “restaurant and wine bar.” The list is very reasonably priced, with about a dozen choices by the glass.

Brassel and his wife are practically a two-man band. Brassel does all the cooking. His wife and one waitress do all the serving. Another hand in the kitchen washes dishes and does light prep work. I didn’t do an exact count, but it looks to me like the restaurant can seat about 30–35 people. When it starts to fill up—as it’s doing more and more, as the word gets out—Brassel has trouble keeping up. We were there at a slow time, but we can well imagine what happens on Saturday nights. His wife mentioned that he’s considering adding another hand in the kitchen, although one look at the space tells you that it will need to be someone who’s used to working in close quarters.

I’ll look forward to giving Knife + Fork another try.

Knife + Fork (108 E. 4th St. between First & Second Avenues, East Village)

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

Mosaique

I’ve just returned from a week in London. On past trips, I’ve spent my London evenings at the theatre. This trip, I wanted to focus on restaurants. I arrived on a Wednesday, but had no specific reservations until Friday.

On Thursday, I was a bit under-the-weather and didn’t want to travel far. Mosaique was located about a ten-minute walk from my hotel. On a stiflingly hot evening, its open-air façade and faintly Mediterranean décor seemed appropriate.

I loved deep-fried brie (£3.50), two pie-shaped slices with a charred-brown exterior from the deep fryer, and with a lingonberry sauce. Monkfish (£9.25) was tender and came with a vegetable medley. Add a half-bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (£9.50), and I was out of there for £22.25, making this probably the best dining bargain of the trip. There were two servers, who kept things running efficiently.

The restaurant is not really near any important destinations, so which might explain why only a handful of tables were taken. It’s a reasonably walk from King’s Cross, Russell Square, Farringdon, and Holborn, without really being convenient to any of them. 

Mosaique (73 Gray’s Inn Road, between Guilford St and Theobald’s Road, London WC1X 8TP)

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

Le Pont de la Tour

A colleague recommended Le Pont de la Tour for its superb views of Tower Bridge (for which it’s named) and the Tower of London, from a perch along the boardwalk on the south bank of the Thames. There are numerous outdoor tables. None of these were available, but I was given an excellent window table facing the Tower, and as the windows were wide open, it amounted to the same thing. The décor is refined and elegant. I was overheated from an unexpectedly long walk, and started with a Pimms cocktail (£5.95) to cool off.

The menu is squarely in the French tradition. My colleague particularly recommended the chateaubriand, advice that several reviews on the web confirmed, but this signature dish is available only for two. I asked the server for an alternative recommendation. He must love the menu, for he went on to describe pretty much all of it, but his knowledge of the cuisine was impeccable—at least for the two dishes I tried. All of the options placed Le Pont de la Tour squarely in the French tradition.

I started with the morteaux sausage (£9.50), which came sliced, and with a honey mustard sauce. Sea trout, at £18.00, was the least expensive of the main courses. I wasn’t particularly looking to economize, but the server said the poached sea trout was ideal if one didn’t want to eat anything “heavy,” which was indeed the case on a sweltering evening. I’m usually not keen on filet fish prepared that simply, but this dish showed there are an exceptions to every rule when the flesh is as tender and the preparation as perfect as this one was.

The sommelier recommended a wonderful half-bottle of Chablis. I’m most definitely not a Chablis guy—it always seems to be the dullest of the white grapes, the way Merlot so often is among the reds. But this one, at £19.25, was wonderful, showing that even Chablis can rise above the commonplace.

When I arrived shortly after 8:00 p.m., most of the inside tables weren’t yet occupied, but by the time I’d finished my appetizer and main course—around 9:00 p.m.—the restaurant was nearly full. Service had been superb up to that point, but things slowed down considerably. It would take another 50 minutes for me to order and receive an order of French Coffee (£6.75), and to settle my bill. It was nice to know that they weren’t hurrying to unseat me from my table with a prime view, but that coffee took an awfully long time to prepare.

All-in, dinner came to £59.45 before tip.

Le Pont de al Tour (Butlers Wharf, 36d Shad Thames, London SE1 2YE)

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

The Savoy Grill

Despite my keen interest in Gilbert and Sullivan, I’ve never dined at the Savoy Hotel (though I had high tea there once, many years ago). I had wanted to dine at three-star Gordon Ramsay, but that restaurant is closed this summer for refurbishing. I chose the Savoy Grill instead, which turned out to be another restaurant in Ramsay’s large empire, though I didn’t realize this when I booked.

The Savoy Grill is more formal than its name would suggest, with fussy French-style service and tuxedo-clad waiters reminding me a bit of Alain Ducasse in New York. It is a much larger restaurant than Ducasse, and only one star, rather than three, so they are not quite as attentive, but many of the ideas are similar. The previous evening, I had a lovely window seat facing the Tower of London. At the Savoy Grill, I was seated next to a large column with a view of the hotel driveway.

After I sat down, a server wheeled over a cart with several champagnes, from which I was invited to choose. In this type of restaurant, I’m always wary of getting stuck with something that costs $20 a sip, so I asked him for a printed list. He was apparently confused about this, and asked if I’d like bottled water. I said that tap water would be fine. With barely concealed disgust, he slid my water glass to the edge of the table (apparently a signal to his colleagues that this chump doesn’t want the bottled variety) and moved on.

When a server arrived, I explained that I did want champagne. He apologized and sent the champagne guy back over. He remained quite irritated that I wanted to see a list of the choices, but he managed to point out where they were on the wine list, and I chose one. For all that trouble, it was worth it—a glass of sparkling rosé that was surprisingly sweet and smooth.

The regular menu is a £55 prix fixe, but on weekends there is a £30 alternative, which they call the “grill menu,” with six appetizers and six main courses to choose from. Several of these looked compelling, so I decided to save myself £25. Smoked salmon (£4 supplement) was unimpressive. It came without sauces or any other accompaniments, and the taste was no better than average. Particularly for a dish that carries a supplement, I expected a better performance.

Wiltshire pork belly was a tour de force. (After I ordered it, the server mentioned that it was a particular favorite of his.) It was cut in a long strip, in the shape of two thick cigars placed end-to-end. It was tender, fatty, and flavorful. As the server had proved he and I had similar tastes, I accepted his recommendation of the white chocolate cake for dessert, and this was most enjoyable.

There was, again, a reasonable selection of half-bottles available. Remembering my happy experience with Chablis at Le Pont de la Tour, I chose Chablis again (£25), but this was a more pedestrian bottle that reminded me why I don’t usually order Chablis.

After the champagne fiasco, the server went out of his way to ensure I was taken care of. If anything, the service was a bit too rushed, and I was out of there in about an hour. When I’m paying this kind of money, I’d prefer that the meal unwind a bit more slowly. However, to their credit the champagne was comped. (At least, I think it was—nothing was said, but it wasn’t on the bill). In total, dinner came to £59 before tip.

When I told the server that I’m from New York, he introduced me to the house manager, who will be transferring to New York later this year to manage Gordon Ramsay’s first American restaurant, which will be gunning for three Michelin and four New York Times stars. We had a pleasant chat and exchanged business cards. Obviously my Savoy Grill experience is not indicative of Ramsay’s three-star cuisine, but I’d advise him to focus hard on the kind of service glitches that the Times’s current reviewer tends to penalize.

One wonders how much time Ramsay will be able to spend in New York. The house manager said that Ramsay will be there for “the first few months,” and then occasionally thereafter. Ramsay has something like nine restaurants in London alone. Coincidentally, during my stay I saw him on a TV show called “The f word,” which features Ramsay swearing at everybody in sight. In the show’s main vignette, four amateur cooks do a service in the kitchen with Ramsay, in which he hurls expletives at them on the slightest provcation. The guests don’t seem to mind, as they all seem to know about Ramsey’s famous temper. Being told to shut the fuck up is obviously part of the game.

The Savoy Grill (Savoy Hotel, Strand, London, WC2R 0EU)

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

The Waterside Inn

There are three Michelin three-star restaurants in the United Kingdom. One would certainly have to question the inspectors’ objectivity, when an entire country has fewer restaurants with the top rating than Michelin awarded in New York City alone.

In an odd quirk of fate, two of the UK’s three-star restaurants are within 100 yards of each other, in the unlikely town of Bray, about 45 minutes west of London by train. I tried to get into The Fat Duck, but I hadn’t realized how hard it is to get in, and I didn’t book early enough. The Waterside Inn, which has been around a lot longer, was able to accommodate me on a Sunday evening. The restaurant opened in 1972. It earned its first Michelin star in 1974, its second in 1977, and its third in 1985. The original chef, Michel Roux, is semi-retired. His son Alain now runs the kitchen.

Michelin’s definition of three stars is “worth a special journey.” The proprietors of The Waterside Inn took that to heart. Their hotel exists, it seems, solely for patrons who want to dine at the restaurant. As the house manager put it to me, “we have 11 rooms and 11 tables for two.” The dining room faces a quiet part of the Thames, well upstream of London. There are no buildings on the opposite bank to disturb the view. Ducks paddle by, and there is the occasional pleasure boat. Green moss floats on the water near the shore. This was a gorgeous evening—not too hot, as it had been for much of the week, and with a mild breeze. The dining room’s picture windows were wide open, and every table had a slice of the gorgeous view. It was one of the most romantic dining spots I’ve seen.

I began the evening, as many guests do, with a drink on the terrace. The staff brought out a plate of canapes (the beef tartare being my favorite), a glass of champagne, and a menu, and I lingered a while. My order was taken while I was still on the terrace. When I finally took my table, it was already laid with the flatware and glassware that went with what I’d ordered.

You can order a la carte, with appetizers in the £20-38 range, main courses generally £35-53, and desserts about £20-25. When you bear in mind that the exchange rate is almost $2 to the pound, you get the idea that you’re in for an expensive evening. I chose the “menu exceptionelle,” which offered three savory courses and dessert.

I wasn’t expecting an amuse bouche after snacking on the wonderful canapes on the terrace, so a vegetable terrine to start was a happy surprise. I have to wonder, though, at the wisdom of that particular choice when another terrine, foie gras and chicken, was one of the appetizer options. The latter was just fine, although not as creamy as some of the better foie gras terrines I’ve had elsewhere.

The fish course was a scallop, perfectly sweet and just slightly seared on the outside. The other choice for the fish course was lobster, and a glance at other tables showed it was a more elaborate production. I wasn’t unhappy with the scallop, but I had a bit of regret about not choosing the fancier lobster.

The palate cleanser was a rose petal sorbet, which seemed to be a strawberry sorbet with a small rose petal elegantly garnishing the top of it. Then came the evening’s only dud, a duck breast with classic orange sauce, potatoes and peas. The duck, although an ample portion, was slightly tough and over-cooked. I suspect the duck breast had been cooked too a bit too, and it dried out on the stove. I finished it, mind you (at those prices who wouldn’t?), but it was not up to the level of everything else.

An excellent cheese course, carved tableside, was partial redemption. And because I complained about the duck, the restaurant comped an extra dessert, a heavenly strawberry soufflé.

Service throughout the evening was impeccable, yet never haughty. The staff seemed to be mind readers; you would merely think about something, and in a matter of moments someone would appear. The one cheesy moment came early on, when a server appeared with an already-open bottle of Evian poised for pouring, and asked if I would like some water. Human nature is to say ‘yes’, at which point one will have purchased the bottle. I resisted that temptation and asked for tap water. The server replied, without any hint of irony, “Perfect!!” I dwell on the incident only because it was the cleverest ruse I’ve seen yet to steer diners towards bottled water.

I drank a little more liquor than I usually do—a pre-dinner glass of champagne (£15.50), a half-bottle of white wine (£26.50), and a glass of dessert wine (£10.50). None of it came cheap, but it was all excellent. The wine was decanted for me in advance, as naturally it should be at a restaurant of this quality. I was once again pleased to see—as I had at all the other restaurants I tried—a reasonable selection of half-bottles.

The Waterside Inn serves mostly classic dishes. There’s no foam or culinary fusion here; no molecular gastronomy. But it nevertheless serves up a special kind of magic. The duck gaffe was significant, but I would like to assume it was atypical. I would still put The Waterside Inn on my list of places to return to.

All told, the final bill came to £142 before gratuity.

The Waterside Inn (Ferry Road, Bray, Berkshire, SL6 2AT)

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

Hakkasan

Hakkasan resembles the “big-box” Asian restaurants that have taken over Manhattan (Buddakan, Megu, Matsuri, Ono). It’s located in a quiet back street that is practically guaranteed not to attract walk-in foot traffic. A friendly goomba asks for your name at the door. If you’re not already on his list, you’re not getting in. Then, it’s down three flights of stairs to a dimly-lit subterranean lair, with a modern Asian décor, although most of the staff seem to be Westerners. Just about every seat in the large space is taken.

With all of those gimmicks, you’d expect the food to be almost secondary, but Hakkasan has a Michelin star, and they seem to have earned it. A dim sum platter (£10.00) came with eight pieces. I have to admit that I didn’t recognize what was in them, but they were fluffy, tender, and delicious. Stir-fried Mongolian venison (£18.50) may have been a tad over-priced, but the spicy preparation was expertly judged, and lacked the generically over-salty taste to which stir-fry sometimes succumbs. Egg fried rice (£3.50) was also excellent A colleague recommended the signature cocktails, which came with names like The Hakka, Green Destiny, and the Lychee Martini (all £8.50). I was feeling pretty happy after three of those.

The clamor for tables at Hakkasan is obviously intense. When I called for a 7:30 p.m. reservation on a Tuesday evening, the hostess replied, “The table is booked for 7:30 to 9:30 p.m.” I know that some people resent being told in advance when they have to leave, but I am more than capable of finishing my dinner in two hours, and at this type of restaurant I don’t really mind the restriction.

Big-box Asian restaurants are getting a bad name in New York. There are so many of them now, with the menu often designed practically by rote. At Hakkasan, they really seem to care about the food.

The bill came to £57.50 before tip.

Hakkasan (8 Hanway Place near Tottenham Court Road, London, W1P 9DH)

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

Chanterelle

Note: Chanterelle closed in 2009, after plans to remodel and update the restaurant fell through.

*

On a recent celebratory occasion, my friend and I chose Chanterelle. Though I’ve dined there a couple of times in the past, I’d forgotten the magic of this restaurant’s quiet, refined atmosphere. With its widely spaced tables, its luminous chiffon shades, and high chandeliers, Chanterelle offers an elegant escape. On a Sunday evening, it was never more than half full. It was delightful to note that we could speak barely above a whisper, and have no trouble hearing each other.

Chanterelle offers a three-course prix fixe at $95 or a tasting menu (which we had) at $125. Both are written in an extravagant longhand on one of the famous artistic menus, which change about monthly. Although Chanterelle may seem old-fashioned, it is one of the few restaurants at its level that keeps its website up-to-date with the latest menu, which was as follows:

• Green Gazpacho with Chesapeake Bay Crabmeat & Black Caviar
• Foie Gras Sauté with Pickled Farm Peaches & Baby Lettuce
• Sautéed Speckled Sea Trout with Sorrel, Tomato, Mussel Broth
• Niman Ranch Beef filet with Sweet Onions and Cracked black Peppers
• Cheese Course
• Vermont Goat Cheese and Purple basil Soufflé with Tuscan Melon Sorbet
• Petits Fours, Coffee/Tea

We started with a double amuse bouche, a warm gougère and an oyster on a spoon. The gazpacho was (to borrow the cliché) so thick you could almost eat it with a fork. The foie gras was heavenly, and I loved the crisp sea trout. The beef filet was the only dud; it tasted like pot roast, except that pot roast would probably be better.

The cheese course made up for it. A server brought a cheese tray to the table and patiently explained more than a dozen choices, of which I had five—all superb. A cheese course never looks like much food, but by the time you’re finished you feel stuffed. (On the prix fixe menu, the cheese course is a $25 add-on, which makes the tasting menu look like an even better deal.) The selection of petits-fours after dessert was awesome, but I counted something like 15 bite-sized pieces, which is way beyond what two humans can consume at the end of a long tasting menu.

I’ve been to only two other restaurants in the city (Per Se and Alain Ducasse) that make a point of presenting two contrasting butters, with the server explaining the characteristics of each. I particularly liked the unsalted butter, which I believe came from Vermont (the other was from France). Bread rolls were served warm, but I would have liked a choice of breads, to go along with the choice of butters.

Chanterelle’s renowned wine list is a tome that looks like a telephone directory. I believe $55 was the least expensive bottle that I noted, and most were well over $80. I settled on a $95 bordeaux, which was near the bottom of the list, but was nevertheless superb. The staff decanted it without prompting, a service few restaurants offer any more.

The restaurant takes a team approach to service. I had noticed this the last time I was here and wondered if it was an anomaly, but they did it again. Every server seems to perform every function, and no particular server seems to be assigned specifically to your table. On my last visit, this arrangement led to some minor glitches (e.g., being asked twice whether we wanted bottled or tap water), but this time it was seamless.

Service, indeed, is first-class, but without the stuffiness of some high-end places. There is the occasional mistake (a roll dropped on the floor; a spoon forgotten), but it hardly detracts from a delightful evening. Unlike the tasting menu at Bouley, which I had just a couple of weeks ago, this performance was leisurely (taking nearly three hours), and never seemed hurried. The preparations are generally first-rate, but platings are classic, without the wild swishes of colored sauces and the widely varying plate shapes at Bouley.

If the overall performance is a step shy of extraordinary, Chanterelle is nevertheless one of New York’s restaurant treasures.

Chanterelle (2 Harrison Street at Hudson Street, TriBeCa)

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

Harry's Café and Harry's Steak

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Harry’s Steak.

When I started working on Wall Street in 1989, Harry’s at Hanover Square was the quintessential “good ol’ boys” restaurant. Located at One Hanover Square in the landmarked India House, in the heart of the Financial District, it catered primarily to brokers and investment bankers. A big horseshoe-shaped bar dominated the space. It wasn’t known for its food.

Harry Poulakakos retired a few years ago. The space was carved up; two restaurants on Stone Street now occupy space that was formerly part of Harry’s. The main restaurant was closed for approximately 2½ years. Harry’s son gutted the place, and it has now re-opened as two separate but connected restaurants: Harry’s Café and Harry’s Steak. (Papa Harry is still associated with the place, as an advisor.)

The two technically have separate entrances: Harry’s Café at 1 Hanover Square, Harry’s Steak at the adjacent 97 Pearl Street. They are listed separately on Zagat and Menupages. But they have a common website, and apparently a common kitchen. The steak restaurant, which is smaller, is located in the former wine cellar of Harry’s at Hanover Square.

The steakhouse menu has pretty much the standard items and price structure that you would expect in Manhattan. The café menu has some of the steakhouse appetizers, but only one actual entree in common (the Dry Aged New York Strip on the bone, $41). The café’s entrees are more eclectic, with everything from lemon sole ($22) to “the original crackling pork shank” ($25), whatever that may be.

I was actually looking for the steakhouse, but wandered into the café instead. The staff advised that the café doesn’t normally offer the full steak menu, except on weekends, when the café is open but the steakhouse is not. But they let me order from the steak menu anyway. I chose the bone-in rib steak ($38.50). This was an enormous hunk of beef, possibly two inches thick before cooking. It was perfectly marbled and aged, and comparable to the two best ribeyes I’ve had in New York, at Strip House and Nebraska Beef.

At the café (but not the steakhouse), steaks come with fries and creamed spinach without any extra charge. There was no way I could finish all that food, but I noted that the spinach was excellent. The helping of fries was enormous and could easily have served several people. The bread service was above average.

Service was friendly and efficient. There was a bit of a delay in getting my steak out of the kitchen, and although I did not complain about it at all, they comped a glass of wine anyway. The décor is still in the burnished mahogany of the old Harry’s, but the space seems a bit more open and inviting.

The restaurant wasn’t full, but they have only opened recently, and are still building word-of-mouth. The clientele seemed to be a mix, rather than the pure Wall Street types you used to see in Harry’s at Hanover Square. The fact that the café is now open seven days a week speaks volumes to how the financial district has changed. Back in 1989, you could roll a bowling ball down Broad Street on a Saturday without striking anyone. It’s now a family neighborhood, with residential conversions on just about every block.

Harry’s Café (1 Hanover Square) and Harry’s Steak (97 Pearl Street), Financial District

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

It’s hard to judge by just one visit, but based on what I saw yesterday, Harry’s is doing an impressive job.