Artisanal: Hommage au Fromage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salud!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

F.illi Ponte

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dominic

Note: Dominic has since closed. For later visits, see reports here and here.

I dined at Dominic last night. It opened last summer under the name “Dominic Restaurant & Social Club,” but the mildly odd “Social Club” seems to have been dropped. Dominic replaced a Portugese restaurant called Pico, which I never visited, but I recognize the same high-backed chairs that I always used to see when I passed by. I believe it is still under the same owners.

Chilled spring pea soup with spiced shrimp was a lively start. I hadn’t read the menu too carefully, so I would have been happy with just a solid pea soup, which this was. The unexpected spiced shrimp offered a flavor explosion, making me regret there was just one of them in the bowl.

Onto a main course of crispy Atlantic skate with endive marmelada and pink peppercorn vinaigrette, on a bed of stewed cherry tomatoes. Yes, the fish was delightfully crisp on the outside, with just a hint of the marmelade flavor suggested in the description. I couldn’t perceive the pink peppercorn vinaigrette, but the palate here seems to lean towards the subtle. The fish came with warmed greens and a three of a large vegetable I couldn’t recognize — shaped like sausages, but tasting like onions.

Appetizers are $9-12, pastas $8-12 for starter portions, $16-20 as mains. Other main courses (a mixture of meat and fish) are $19-26. Side dishes are $5. The prix fixe is $38 for any three dishes on the menu, or $52 with wine pairings. My meal of appetizer, main course, and a glass of the house wine was $46 with tax and tip.

Dominic’s décor is mostly unchanged from its Pico days. It’s comfortable, spacious, and friendly to the eye. Service was smart and attentive. I will definitely be visiting Dominic again.

Dominic (349 Greenwich Street, TriBeCa)

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

Ronald Reagan

Ronald Reagan, 40th President of the United States, died on Saturday, just short of his 93rd birthday, after a decade-long battle with Alzheimer’s disease.

His death also fell a day shy of the fortieth anniversary of the D-Day invasion. On the twentieth anniversary of that event, Reagan gave one of the most memorable speeches of his Presidency. It was a riveting oration on the Normandy Beaches that I saw again on C-Span the other night. The speech remains great theater even today. Cynics will say that Reagan was no great statesman, merely a skilled deliverer of speeches written by others. Even if true, which I don’t entirely accept, it is no small accomplishment to capture a moment as brilliantly as Reagan did that day. Anyone who doubts it should watch George W. Bush’s pale and unsuccessful attempts to do the same.

Ronald Reagan is the most prolific vote-getter in American history. There are fifty million more eligible voters than there were when he ran for President, but no one yet has captured the electorate’s imagination as he did. Whether you agreed with all of his policies or not, there was no denying that Reagan was an intensely likeable man. He is one of the few Presidents to have left office more popular than when he entered it. Even his Administration’s scandals and missteps, some of them serious, have not stuck to him personally.

To be sure, Reagan was the beneficiary of exquisite timing. In his first election, he had the great gift to have Jimmy Carter as his opponent. Despite a blazing intellect, Carter was an incompetent chief executive. He projected an image of self-defeat and aspirations to be merely mediocre. The failed mission to rescue the hostages in Iran, although not his fault, embodied for many the downfall of his Presidency. Any reasonably attractive Republican nominee was going to beat Jimmy Carter.

A President’s re-election is generally a referendum on the economy. By November 1984, the economic cycle was in full rebound. It’s doubtful that any Democrat could have beaten Reagan, but Reagan could hardly have had a more generous opponent than Walter Mondale, a retro liberal whose politics were about ten years out of date, and whose most memorable campaign pledge was to raise taxes. Mondale’s one enduring contribution to Presidential politics was to name the first woman to a major national ticket, but Geraldine Ferraro did him no good in November.

Even if some of Ronald Reagan’s accomplishments were handed to him by the Democrats, we must be careful not to underestimate his legacy. Ronald Reagan defines the modern Republican Party, which now controls both houses of Congress, most of the Federal judiciary, and has won four of the last six Presidential elections. Just as most modern Democrats want to be Kennedy, most modern Republicans want be Reagan. Indeed, Reagan’s legacy is by far the more powerful one. Kennedy was martyred, but he accomplished little; he is more important for the promise he showed than for what he delivered. Reagan’s policies are still with us. The leaders of his party continue to preach what he preached. Their greatest modern political defeat, George H. W. Bush’s loss in 1992, is attributed to his decision to endorse a tax hike, something the Party’s orthodoxy insists Reagan would never have done.

Most credit Reagan with the end of the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact, a process that began during his term and ended during that of his successor. To be sure, Soviet communism was running on fumes by the time Reagan came to power, and its eventual demise might have been inevitable, but Reagan’s hawkish stance certainly helped topple it. His speech in Berlin – “Tear this wall down, Mr. Gorbachev” – is one of the searing memories of the Reagan Presidency. It is a telling counterpoint to the famous Kennedy speech – “Ich bin ein Berliner” – which sounded a chord of pan-Atlantic solidarity, but didn’t exhort anyone to do anything.

Reagan’s greatest failure is a fiscally irresponsible tax-and-spend policy that, sadly, is still with us. His platform certainly sounded appealing: cut taxes, increase defense spending, shrink the rest of the government, and balance the budget. Unfortunately, only the first two happened, and the national debt tripled on his watch. The economic theory he endorsed – that reducing taxes would actually increase government tax revenues – has failed again and again. Yet, George W. Bush has sold the Congress and the American public the same bill of goods, with the same predictable results. A purported “tax simplification” bill passed during Reagan’s second term actually managed to make the tax system more complicated.

Whether you agree with Reagan’s tax-and-spend policy or not, its influence cannot be denied. On domestic policy, today’s Republican Party is essentially a one-note band, with tax cuts disproportionately aimed at the wealthy as the only substantive economic idea they have to offer. Republicans who favor fiscal responsibility and deregulation as engines of economic growth have been largely frozen out of the debate by party leaders who view themselves as Reagan’s political disciples.

I have mixed feelings about Reagan’s accomplishments and to what extent he was personally responsible for them, but I voted for him twice. Whatever faults he may have had, he was better for the country at the time than either Jimmy Carter in 1980 or Walter Mondale in 1984. I also favored the first Bush over Michael Dukakis, but I haven’t voted for a Republican Presidential candidate since. Reagan was what the country needed in 1980, but the party hasn’t had a serious original idea in decades. George W. Bush, who has none of Reagan’s charisma or charm, seems content to leave the government in the hands of clueless idealogues.

I must admit, I haven’t seen any great ideas out of John Kerry either, but as I noted at the top of this essay, a second-term election is a referendum on the incumbent, and it is hard to name anything that has gone particularly well under George W. Bush. Just as the 1980 election was more a rejection of Carter than an endorsement of Reagan, the 2004 election should be a rejection of Bush. Reagan took the opportunity that Fortune gave him, and turned it into one of the great Presidencies of the twentieth century. What Kerry will do is anyone’s guess, but at the moment neither party has a Ronald Reagan.

Brunch at Steamers Landing

Note: As of January 2011, Steamers Landing is now Merchants River House.

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I enjoy living in Lower Manhattan, but my friends have often heard me complain about the lack of good brunch restaurants east of Broadway. Not the lack of restaurants (as there’s a good supply of them), but specifically the lack of restaurants with great brunch menus. I don’t necessarily mean “great” as in Normas, Sarabeth’s Kitchen, Bubby’s or Balthazar, but simply a solid weekend brunch place with a variety of omlettes, pancakes, waffles, etc.

Well, such places don’t seem to exist east of Broadway, which restauranteurs perhaps still think is a Monday-to-Friday neighborhood. A place around the corner from me called Cafe 92 serves low-end diner food, but it’s so limited and ordinary that one quickly tires of it. It’s a bit embarrassing to take guests there, although on occasion I have done so. That leaves the west side, where – thanks to Battery Park City and TriBeCa South – options are a bit more numerous. However, it is a longer walk. This weekend, I found a romantic brunch setting that might just be worth it: Steamers Landing, located on the Battery Park City esplanade between Liberty and Albany Streets.

I’d often walked by Steamers Landing while enjoying the view on the esplanade – one of Manhattan’s least known scenic treasures – but for some reason it never occurred to me to walk by for brunch. Turns out they have a wonderful brunch menu. Steamers Landing will never eclipse the city’s more famous high-end brunch eateries for its food alone, but they do a fine job, and on top of that is a spectacular view of the Hudson that beats just about any other restaurant in the city. Steamers Landing serves lunches and dinners too, but that’ll be a topic for another day.

Some Saturday or Sunday morning, when the weather is nice, head on out to Battery Park City and try out Steamers Landing for brunch. Be sure to sit in the outdoor garden. After that, take a nice long walk on the esplanade and walk off the calories you just inhaled. You’ll be glad you did.

Steamers Landing (375 South End Avenue between Liberty and Albany Streets, Battery Park City)

Miracle on John Street

"Miracle on John Street." It's not quite good enough to be a movie title, but I felt blessed last week when my rent renewal arrived, and there is no increase!

When I moved in almost five years ago, my rent was exactly $2000, which for those not au fait with rent stabliization law in New York City, is the lowest rent level that is not regulated. That is, the landlord can charge whatever the traffic will bear. A year later, it went up by 5%. Ok, I could live with that. Another year later, they hit me with a stiffer 12.4% increase. This was right at my pain threshold, but as there was no assurance of getting a better deal anywhere else, I stayed put.

Then 9/11 hit. In the immediate aftermath, the landlord volunteered a 10% rent cut. Residents were bailing out of Lower Manhattan in droves, and while tenants theoretically could be sued, there wasn't a jury on earth that would side with a landlord under such circumstances. Rather than be stuck with apartments they couldn't fill, landlords offered concessions and hoped the tenants would stick it out. Most did.

In the meantime, Congress appropriated funds for a Lower Manhattan Residential Grant program. Tenants in my part of town - below Chambers Street, and east of Broadway - were eligible for a $250per month subsidy if they committed to the area for two years. (Had I lived west of Broadway, the subsidy would have been $500/month.) At my next renewal, the landlord raised the rent by 7.5%, which if you're keeping track is still about $76/month less than pre-9/11 levels. With the HUD subsidy, my effective rent was $2034/month for two years, starting August 1, 2002.

As last weekend approached, I was bracing for the worst, knowing it was about the time of year when my rent renewal would be coming. Not only I about to lose my HUD subsidy, but the landlord would have the first chance in two years to raise my rent. If a May 30 New York Times article can be believed, vacancy rates downtown are just 5%, which (if true) would suggest that any post-9/11 reluctance to live in Lower Manhattan has largely evaporated. In short, I was convinced I was in for a very significant increase.

Well, it didn't happen. My HUD subsidy will of course expire in August, but my base rent will be the same for the third year in a row. What happened? For me, the HUD subsidy was a happy dividend of living downtown, but I intended to stay no matter what. I suspect, however, that there were many who moved in only for the subsidy, and for whom the rents were just barely affordable. Those leases are now expiring, and the residents are most likely headed elsewhere. With their apartments now coming on the market in large numbers, I would guess the time wasn't ripe for jacking up downtown rents.

I don't expect this to last forever. But with several big residential buildings coming on-line in my neighborhood over the next year, thanks to the Liberty Bonds program (another post-9/11 helping of pork from Congress), a healthy supply of new market-rate units should act as a drag on rents for the next year or two. Or so I hope!

Public

Note: For a more recent review of Public, click here.

Public is a double James Beard award winner for both restaurant design and restaurant graphics. The motif is that of a public library circa 1964. Who knew that card catalogs and leaded glass restroom doors would be modern chic? Even the menu comes on a clipboard that looks like it’s been pulled from manilla card stock.

Unfortunately, you can’t eat décor. When it comes to food, Public’s catalog entry is: almost, but not quite. My friend’s Grilled Mayan Prawns with asparagus were very good, but she thought the chef was too parsimonious with the ingredients, especially the asparagus. My sister-in-law’s Tasmanian Sea Trout was very good, but a tad too spicy. My brother’s Roast New Zealand Venison Loin was “very good, but not great,” for reasons he didn’t specify. My Roast Lamb Chump was stringy, and in fact not as good as the accompanying vegetables.

So we had a happy evening, for which we had no regrets, but no one in our party of four felt that the food quite lived up to the design. Luckily Public is very reasonably priced for a high-concept place, with mains in the $18-25 range. However, they do clean up on the appetizers (we weren’t that hungry, and didn’t order any), which are expensive compared to the rest of the menu at $8-19. Desserts are $8.50-$11.50; we shared two between us and were satisfied without being overwhelmed.

Public (210 Elizabeth St. between Spring St. & Prince St., NoLIta)

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

Whitney Biennial

You're running out of time to see the Whitney Biennial at the Whitney Museum (945 Madison Avenue at 75th St). This bi-annual exhibition of modern art captures a wide range of media and styles. The works elicit reactions ranging from "Wow!" to "Huh?" Whatever you may think of particular works, the range is extraordinary. It's best experienced if you allow the art to assault your senses directly, and ignore the curators' attempts to explain what you're seeing. Otherwise, you're likely to be distracted by mumbo-jumbo such as the following (copied from the website):

While the Biennial represents the work of individual visions, it is also more than that. Given that the curators themselves come from somewhat different generations, it is not surprising that the leitmotif of this Biennial is intergenerational dialogue, a conversation that is based on distinct commonalities and threads of influence extending in both directions--from older to younger artists, and vice versa. In addition, the curators have proposed certain affinities shared by subgroups among these artists, and although the exhibition does not have a thematic structure per se, it has an inner coherence. Upon discovering links between such diverse artists, the curators in effect cried "Eureka!" realizing that distillation is as much about discovery as it is about invention.

That certainly clears it all up. Why not just enjoy the art instead! The exhibition officially closes today (May 30th), but signs at the Whitney indicated several of the galleries are being extended another couple of weeks.

Bond Street

A few years ago, Bond Street was the Japanese restaurant of the rich and famous. Every review mentioned the celebrities and fashion models one encountered there. It is still doing a healthy business, but you can land a reservation easily on OpenTable, and you score a 1,000-point bonus for requesting an off-peak time, which we did.

BondSt has a suave décor of cool earthtones. My brother said it’s the kind of restaurant that the chicks on Sex and the City frequent, but which he always assumed didn’t really exist. From the unassuming frontage of a townhouse on the eponymous street in NoHo, you don’t imagine that such an oasis lies waiting for you inside. An elevator took us to our table on the second floor, emphasizing the feeling of being transported to another world.

I ordered the $60 tasting menu for me and my two guests. (Tasting menus are also available at $40, $80, and $100.) We were served eight courses, as follows:

1. Steamed, salted edamame.

2. Vegetable tower in a preparation so fancy it seemed a crime to bite into it.

3. Small squares of tuna tartare, with a respberry sauce and szechuan peppercorns.

4. BBQ quail wings with a beehive of fried soba noodles. The crispy quail wings were a highlight, although gone all too quickly, but the soba noodles were ruined by an overly salty soy sauce.

5. Scallop and shrimp over a sweet potato puree. This was the hit of the evening.

6. A sushi plate, six or seven pieces, with a mixture of salmon, whitefish, yellowtail, tuna roll, and others.

7. Noodle soup with seafood tempura.

8. Dessert – each of us received something different, which we shared, and all of which were wonderful. One was a bento box of mixed sorbets and ices; another was a heavenly preparation resembling strawberry shortcake with heavy cream, served in a sundae bowl; and third, a vanilla custard.

We ordered from the lower end of the sake menu, a $45 bottle that was smooth and fruity to the taste – one of the best sakes I’ve experienced, which may just tell you that I am not a true connoisseur. Service was friendly, attentive, and unpretentious. I can’t say that Bond Street equaled the amazing lunch I had at Nobu a few weeks ago, but it was a great meal nevertheless, which I’d be happy to recommend to anybody.

Bond Street (6 Bond Street between Broadway and Lafayette Street, NoHo)

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