Chutzpah: Colicchio & Sons is now Prix Fixe

Update: After less than a month, citing customer complaints, Colicchio & Sons returned to its original à la carte format.

Starting today, the month-old restaurant Colicchio & Sons has switched from an à la carte menu to a $76 prix fixe. (The casual, no-reservations front room still serves a more rustic ALC menu.) We cannot recall such a switch this early in a restaurant’s life.

The move signals that business has been strong, and that Colicchio now wants to focus on getting a three-star review. Of course, it also means that critics will have their knives out if Colicchio fails to deliver, as every restaurant with a prix fixe that high either has three stars or a fairly damning two-star review.

We were disappointed in Colicchio & Sons. More than that, we felt that conceptually it was a two-star place, even if it had served us a better meal than it did. To give two recent data points: the opening prix fixe at Corton was $77, but Corton has always executed at a far higher level than this place aspires to. The opening prix fixe at Marea was $89, but that was for four courses, and you could still order à la carte.

In short: Tom Colicchio thinks his restaurant belongs in some pretty high company. Now, we’ve no doubt that Colicchio can cook as well as Paul Liebrandt and Michael White. But Liebrandt and White have much nicer restaurants, and they have far fewer distractions. Colicchio has a television show to worry about, and he supervises a much larger restaurant empire than White. Liebrandt, of course, is at Corton full time.

So there’s some chutzpah in switching to a prix fixe while the restaurant is still finding its sea legs. We’ll soon find out how smart that is.

I have to share one funny comment on my unfavorable review of the restaurant. A reader named Joe wrote:

After three weeks you have the audacity to rate this restaurant. Immediate gratification and expectations of premature perfection border on insanity. Give the restaurant a chance to begin to stand on its legs before you cut its legs out from under them. Shame on you!

I mounted three main defenses to the review. First, any restaurant that is open to the public, and is charging full price, is fair game to be praised or criticized. Colicchio isn’t exactly new at this. If he didn’t think he was ready, he shouldn’t be open.

Second, the restaurant’s response to the most damning of its mistakes (an entrée served cold) was unacceptable. There are right ways of handling this, whether you’ve been open one day or ten years.

And finally, I don’t exactly think Colicchio was quivering in his boots because New York Journal had “cut out its legs from under them.” When, just a week later, the restaurant switches to an expensive prix fixe, I would say my point has been proven.

Olana Closes

Today, Eater confirms that Olana has closed. The handwriting was on the wall after Olana filed for bankruptcy in December. We were surprised it lasted this long; bankruptcy is not a step that many restaurants survive.

We visited Olana twice (here, here), and enjoyed ourselves. This was a restaurant that deserved to make it.

So what killed Olana? At its fairly expensive price point, it needed to be a destination restaurant. But it attracted few reviews—crucially, none from the Times. In New York, Adam Platt awarded two stars, which was about right.

We’re no fans of Platt’s, but we have to agree that he had Olana nailed, when he described the décor as “overwrought,” and observed that “the location might be a killer.” We rather liked Olana’s décor, but we’re old-fashioned that way, and we realize that the average diner these days is put off by white tablecloths and velvet chairs. Such places can still succeed, but there isn’t much margin for error.

As for the location, it could hardly be worse: Madison Avenue between 27th and 28th Streets, a transit and culinary dead zone.

We would add that most diners probably had no idea what the name “Olana” even referred to. (It’s the Hudson Valley home of the artist Frederic Edwin Church.) The menu didn’t really evoke the Hudson Valley theme particularly well. If that was the idea, another name might have conveyed it better.

Review Recap: Motorino

The Times posted tomorrow’s restaurant review (one star for Motorino) before we gamblers could place our bets. For the record, one star is exactly what we would have predicted.

Sifty loves the place:

Motorino is having a moment. That seems fair. It serves the city’s best pizza.

It does so consistently, at both locations, whether Mr. Palombino is cooking or not. Made to his specifications and cooked in the tempering heat of a wood fire, his crust emerges from the oven as a Neapolitan fantasy of crispness that is also pillowy and soft, sweet but not sugared, tangy without too much salt.

Multiple visits to the restaurants conform: Motorino pies are great hot out of the oven, 5 minutes later, 10. You can order too much, watch a pie go cool on the plate, eat it anyway and discover: terrific.

We aren’t so sure that any one guy could really know whether Motorino is serving the best pizza. Given the vast range of restaurants he covers, how many of the candidates could Sifton have tried recently? Beyond that, given the wide range of pizza-making styles, are they all even comparable?

Anyhow, we haven’t been to Motorino, but the review is certainly consistent with everything we’ve read, and Sifton is entertaining as always.

Gramercy Tavern

For the legions who regularly run the gauntlet for a coveted reservation at Gramercy Tavern, I have some good news: you won’t have to compete with New York Journal for a table. After our visit there last Friday, we believe we are finished with Gramercy Tavern.

It’s not that we had a bad meal here (far from it), but we think there are far, far better ways to spend $86 per person—that’s the current prix fixe, the cheapest ordering option in the dining room. For all that, Chef Michael Anthony serves unmemorable, timid food that resembles an average night at his original restaurant, the less-expensive Blue Hill.

Our last visit to Gramercy Tavern was truly disappointing, with one of our pasta dishes served cold. To the restaurant’s credit, the general manager emailed me to follow up, and after we spoke on the telephone, sent us a $150 gift certificate. That’s about as generous response to a mishap as you can ask for, and typical of Danny Meyer’s empire: they truly want to please you.

But when you have a meal without any obvious mistakes, what are you left with? I cannot tell you that Michael Anthony is doing anything wrong. We don’t particularly mind that the menu is uninventive: there are no greater fans than we are, of classics done well. But to us, Gramercy Tavern is a big bore, the flavor profiles unchallenging and bland.

The trio of amuses-bouches was very good: a small lobster salad (above left), a potato puff with olive tapanade (center), and a cauliflower custard with sea urchin (right).

But we found muted and under-seasoned flavors in Whole Spelt Spaghetti with cauliflower and broccoli rabe (above left) and Lamb Pappardelle with olives, lemon confit and swiss chard (above right).

Entrées were served in ridiculous frisbee-sized plates with only a tiny amount of food in the center. The server informed us that lobster (above left) would be served medium rare, whatever that is supposed to mean. Some things just aren’t meant to be al dente. This flimsy, flaccid imitation of lobster should be dropped from the menu.

Venison Loin (above right) had a hearty flavor, but the casing on the accompanying sausage was too tough, and once you got inside the flavor payoff wasn’t there.

Curiously, the potato pancake that came with the venison (left) was much heartiier than any of the appetizers or entrées. It had the rich flavor that so much of the food lacked.

Things improved markedly when we got to dessert. Pastry Chef Nancy Olson’s desserts are all classics, but they grab you in a way the savory courses fail to do. The pre-dessert, if I recall correctly, was a mandarin orange jelly with mascarpone (not pictured).

We then had the Pineapple Upside Down Cake with frozen yogurt (above left) and the Slow Roasted Apples with pecan crumble and vanilla ice cream (above right). Both were excellent. The petits-fours were very good as well, and we were sent home with complimentary muffins, also from Chef Olson’s pastry kitchen. She really should branch out on her own.

A cup of cappuccino had to be sent back (not enough whipped cream), and a cup of espresso tasted like motor oil.

The service? Well, this is a Danny Meyer place overall. We remain annoyed that neither bread nor canapés are served until after you have ordered, which the GM informed me is a deliberate choice. But it does mean that if you want to relax over a drink, you have nothing to nibble on in the meantime.

We do not expect our review to affect Gramercy Tavern’s overwhelming popularity, and it shouldn’t. If you’re one of those to whom this cuisine appeals, we wish you well. We’ll be dining elsewhere.

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

Review Recap: Novitá

Today, Sam Sifton blows a two-star kiss at Novitá, a restaurant largely ignored by the city’s foodistas since it opened in 1994:

Novitá is a designer shoe box of a restaurant around the corner from Gramercy Park, a basement room on East 22nd Street, a perfect neighborhood trattoria.

It has excellent pasta. In any other metropolis in North America, it would be well known among that city’s best places to eat. In many cities, it would sit atop the heap.

But in New York, a lot of people have never heard of the place. (How cool is that?) This is testament to the strength of our restaurant scene, to the sheer abundance of good restaurants here. And Novitá is a very good restaurant.

This felt like a “Bruni two,” reminding one of all the forgettable restaurants that won two stars from Sifton’s predecessor: “Main courses are less successful, though by no means off-putting.” He also notes that it is less “fussy” than before: “plates are food, not art.” Bruni could have ghost-written this review. Novitá may well deserve its deuce, but the review reads like that.

We had guessed that Sifton would not bother reviewing this place unless he were upgrading Ruth Reichl’s original one-star rating, and we are rewarded with $3 on our hypothetical one-dollar bet, while Eater loses a dollar. 

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$9.00		$13.00
Gain/Loss	–1.00		+3.00
Total	$8.00		$16.00
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	7–7 (50.0%)		8–6 (57.1%)

Life-to-date, New York Journal is 78–33 (70%).

Colicchio & Sons

Note: Colicchio & Sons closed in September 2016 after six years in business. Tom Colicchio did not state his reasons, but he told The Times that “the last couple of years had been difficult for the restaurant.” Oddly, he also said that this was “the first restaurant I actually opened and closed,” having forgotten Craftsteak, the previous restaurant to occupy this space.

We did not think Colicchio & Sons deserved the three stars that Sam Sifton gave it.” To be fair, Tom Colicchio is good at running restaurants, and the place may have improved over time. Either way, Colicchio & Sons had been out of the media conversation for the last several years. It would not surprise me to learn that bookings were down.

*

I have often said that steakhouses are practically the most fool-proof restaurant concept that there is. Well, practically. Tom Colicchio proved that even a smart guy can botch a steakhouse, when he opened Craftsteak in 2006. Reviews were not good, and Colicchio was charging at least $10 a steak more than the going rate in Manhattan. A steakhouse can get away with those prices, as the BLT franchise has shown, but the steaks have to be great. Craftsteak’s often weren’t.

Late last year, Colicchio closed Craftsteak, and after the briefest of make-overs, re-opened as Colicchio & Sons. The majority of a $400,000 renovation budget was spent on a new wood-burning oven where the Craftsteak raw bar used to be. The format is startlingly similar to Gramercy Tavern, where Colicchio was founding chef. There’s a casual front room, where reservations aren’t taken, and a more expensive formal dining room—although it is not that formal, as anyone who has been to Craftsteak will recall.

The name is a bit of a dodge, as Colicchio’s sons are too young to work in a restaurant kitchen, or indeed anywhere. He has explained in various interviews that the restaurant is an attempt to get back to his culinary roots. Here, he serves composed plates, as he did at Gramercy Tavern, rather than the à la carte family-style dishes of the Craft restaurants.

The food in the dining room is expensive, with appetizers $12–22 and entrées $27–36. (The more rustic “Tap Room” has dishes ranging from $9–23.) That’s less than you would have spent at Craftsteak, but still well above mid-priced. At this tariff, the food needs to be terrific. As so often happens, our appetizers lived up to the hype, but the entrées didn’t.

Our meal began with excellent parker-house rolls served in a cast-iron skillet, a feature wisely held over from the Craftsteak days. White Bean Agnolotti with Chorizo, Pork Belly and Octopus ($19; above left) and Foie Gras Torchon with Persimmon and Walnuts ($22; above right) were just about worth what we paid for them.

Chicken “Pot au Feu” ($34; above left) reads well on the menu, but it was a disaster. We noted that an nearby table had ordered this dish, and it arrived cold. Sure enough, ours did too. The fault seemed to lie with the consommé poured tableside. When we complained, they whisked the plate away, but they just put it under a warmer and brought it back to us, this time with no consommeé added in our presence. After all that, the chicken was still lukewarm, and frankly it would not have been a $34 dish even if it were done perfectly. Padma and Gail would have told Tom to pack up his knives and go.

Roasted Rabbit ($32; above right) was at least done correctly, but I’d say there was a $5–10 “Colicchio premium” in the price. Entrées north of $30 need to rise above the routine that just about any chef or restaurant could do. This isn’t a dish that would win Top Chef.

The wine list features an inventory for high rollers held over from Craftsteak, with plenty of bottles in three and four figures. But the sommelier told us that they have been adding less expensive choices. I found a wonderful Douro at $44, obscure enough that most restaurants wouldn’t even have stocked it.

The service was better than you would expect for a three-week-old restaurant, though we assume that most of the staff was retained from Craftsteak. However, there was an uncomfortably long pause between the appetizers and the entrées.

We assume that Colicchio still fancies himself a three-star chef. For now, at least, Colicchio is in the house most evenings, along with Craft chef de cuisine, Damon Wise, and the former Craftsteak chef de cuisine, Shane McBride. That’s a lot of talent in the kitchen. Now they just need to deliver.

Colicchio & Sons (85 Tenth Avenue at 15th Street, Chelsea)

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

Review Preview: Novita

Tomorrow, Sam Sifton reviews the Gramercy Italian standout, Novita. The Eater oddsmakers have set the betting line as follows: Goose Egg: 500–1; One Star: 2–1 ; Two Stars 3–1; Three Stars: 250–1.

We agree with Eater that neither the goose egg nor the trifecta is likely. The Times doesn’t pick restaurants out of nowhere, only to trash them. And we also subscribe to the view that three-star restaurants do not hide in plain sight. That leaves one and two as the only remotely possible outcomes.

Ruth Reichl awarded one star to Novita fifteen years ago. There are many, many restaurants that have gotten a star in the Times and were never reviewed again. With the vast majority of reviews being given to new places or old ones where a substantial change has taken place, Times critics don’t have much time for re-reviewing run-of-the-mill one-star places, only for the purpose of re-affirming the original rating.

It could be, of course, that Novita is simply one of Sifty’s old stand-bys, and he is happy to spend one of his precious review slots to bump it up on the radar screen without claiming that anything significant has changed since Reichl reviewed it. A one-star review therefore would not shock us.

But as we must make a guess, we think that Sifton would not review this place without upgrading it. Therefore, we predict that he will award two stars to Novita.

Shalezeh

Most of the New York City restaurants with Michelin stars are sensible choices, but there are a few head-scratchers. In December we reviewed Rhong-Tiam, which has since moved to a new location after being shut down by the health department.

Then there’s Shalizar, which recently changed its name to Shalezeh, to avoid confusion with an unrelated Shalizaar in California. It’s a rather half-hearted name change, as the menu, the signage, and the credit card bill all still say “Shalizar.”

Like Rhong-Tiam, Shalizar Shalezeh had received no critical attention whatsoever that would suggest it is Michelin material. It has been open since mid-2008, and most of the city’s major publications haven’t reviewed it at all. Its food rating on Zagat is a mere 21 (that is, just a shade above mediocre).

Did Michelin find a hidden gem that all of the other critics had missed? I am afraid not. Shalizar Shalezeh is the kind of moderately diverting place where you’d be happy to drop in if it were nearby, but it is not even remotely close to the kind of “destination restaurant” normally associated with a Michelin star.

The atmosphere is at least comfortable and pleasant, the service friendly and attentive. Prices are modest, with appetizers $8 and under, and entrées mostly $23 and under. Our food bill for two was just $56, and we had plenty to eat for that amount. The warm, house-made bread (right) was wonderful.

We do not have much expertise in Persian cuisine, so we cannot rate Shalizar Shalezeh on authenticity. The menu is heavy on eggplant, yogurts, chicken, and lamb—all very sensible. But are halibut and filet mignon Persian specialties? There we are less sure.

We ordered a tasting of three salads ($14; above left), which would be $6–7 if ordered separately. These are the Shirazi (cucumber, tomato, onion, parsley, and citrus jus), the Tabuleh (diced tomatoes, cracked wheat, chopped parsley, mint, olive oil, and citrus jus), and the Labu (marinated beets, tomato, feta cheese, wild berry, and cherry vinaigrette). I liked the Labu best, but I have a weakness for beets. The Shirazi seemed to be missing the tomatoes that the menu promised, and it tasted a bit monotonous.

We were comped an Olivieh Salad (above right), made with pickles, chicken, potato, English peas, cucumber, eggs, and mayonaise. In short, it was a terrific chicken salad. It would have made a first-class sandwich.

Lamb Kebab ($16; above left) and the Vermont Lamb Shank ($20; above right) both felt under-seasoned to us. The kebab was nicely cooked to a medium rare, and the meat was tender, but there wasn’t much going on besides that. However, we loved the basmati rice with lentil, saffron, and raisin.

The lamb shank was properly braised, but we couldn’t make out the alleged Middle Eastern herbs, and without them it tasted flat. The raisin couscous were more interesting.

We enjoyed most of our meal, especially at these prices, and would happily return when we have business in the neighborhood. Those expecting Michelin-class culinary fireworks will be disappointed.

Shalezeh (1420 Third Avenue between 80th–81st Streets, Upper East Side)

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

Mia Dona (Act III)

Note: Mia Dona’s luck finally ran out. The restaurant closed in August 2011.

Mia Dona is a luckier restaurant than most. With the talented but attention-deficited chef Michael Psilakis behind the stoves, and the talented but over-committed owner Donatella Arpaia running the house, there was always a danger that it would seem like a throwaway.

Amazingly enough, Mia Dona was a very good restaurant. We gave it two stars, and far more importantly, so did Frank Bruni in the Times. Thus ended Act I of our story.

Having launched the restaurant successfully, the danger was that Arpaia and Psilakis would direct their attention to other projects, and the restaurant would drift. Sure enough, it did. Upon a re-visit a mere months later, we found Mia Dona far less exciting. It was now serving “the kind of generic upscale Italian food that could show up on dozens of menus around town.” Thus ended Act II.

Most similarly situated restaurants would either be dead, or would begin a long slide into mediocrity and irrelevance. But at the end of September 2009, Arpaia and Psilakis had an amicable divorce (though they are still partners in three other restaurants). She closed briefly for some much needed renovations, softening the original kitschy, overwrought décor. Most curiously, she re-opened without a named chef, choosing instead to hire cooks she trained herself, along with her mother and her aunts. Thus begins Act III.

The cuisine is that of Apulia, in southern Italy, the region Arpaia’s family is from. She says that this is the cuisine she always wanted to serve at Ama, a restaurant in Soho that she was briefly associated with about four years ago, and that has since closed. As restauranteur and de facto chef at Mia Dona, she finally gets to do it her way.

If you are looking for the thrilling creations that made Act I of Mia Dona such a compelling restaurant, you will be disappointed. They don’t exist. What you get is a safe list of Italian classics that are well made, along with a service team that is far more polished than before.

With Mia Dona now being primarily a neighborhood place, the staff cannot afford the arrogance and slapdash service we have occasionally experienced at Arpaia’s restaurants. The crowd is younger than we remembered it, and they are not treated as if they are oh-so-fortunate to have the privilege of dining here.

Ms. Arpaia was not there personally on the Friday night we visited, and we suspect she seldom is; but the folks to whom she has entrusted the restaurant seem to know what they are doing. As before, she keeps prices remarkably low, with the maximum entrée price at $19. That is a bargain nowadays.

Neither the Meatballs ($9; above left) nor the Seafood Spaghetti ($17; above right) was especially memorable; they were done correctly, that is all.

The same is true of the Eggplant Parmigiana ($17; above left). We loved the Baby Chicken ($17; above right): the whole bird cooked simply but perfectly.

We had no trouble getting a reservation the same day, but the place filled up in a hurry. There seemed to be only one server for the entire front room. Fortunately, she was extremely competent; Donatella had hired wisely.

We doubt that we’ll be back to Mia Dona unless we happen to be in the neighborhood, but we are happy to report that it is friendly, dependable, and apparently successful in its newly minted, much lower ambitions.

Mia Dona (206 E. 58th Street between Second & Third Avenues, East Midtown)

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

Perilla

Note: Harold Dieterle closed Perilla and its sister restaurant, Kin Shop, late in 2015. He said that he was “not having fun and enjoying myself.”

*

On every episode of Top Chef, host Padma Lakshmi announces that the last surviving chef will win $100,000 (upgraded to $125k in Season 6), “to help turn their culinary dreams into reality.”

So, how many winners have actually parlayed their victory into a new restaurant? Exactly one: Harold Dieterle, the top chef of Season 1, who opened Perilla in May 2007, a year after his win.

Frank Bruni, who awarded one star in the Times, noted the odd trajectory of Dieterle’s success: “Fame on the small screen wasn’t a result of a packed restaurant; his packed restaurant is a result of his fame on the small screen. That’s reality television for you — it scrambles cause and effect, defying the laws of celebrity physics.”

Despite Bruni’s faint praise (he found the menu “cautious” and “straightforward”), Perilla has thrived. We found it packed on a Saturday evening. Meanwhile, the menu has broadened a bit. In serving entrées like Sautéed Triggerfish and Tasting of Local Rabbit, no one can accuse Dieterle of copying everybody else.

The menu is American seasonal cuisine, somewhat reminiscent of the Red Cat, though Perilla is a nicer restaurant. Prices are moderate for food of this quality, with appetizers $11–15, entrées $21–28, and side dishes $8–10.

Crispy Wild Boar Belly ($12; above left) is a clever play on the pork belly that every other chef is serving. The pairing with stewed huckleberries is inspired. We also appreciated that the kitchen divided the dish without prompting, after we told our server that we intended to share it.

We also shared the Spicy Duck Meatballs ($13; above right). It’s a good dish, abetted by a runny quail egg, but the heat stayed behind in the kitchen: we didn’t find it all that spicy at all.

I’m always hesitant about ordering steak in a non-steakhouse, but we took the plunge here and weren’t disappointed. Ribeye for two ($70) was nearly as good as the better steakhouses serve. These days, most restaurants source their aged beef from the major big-name purveyors, like Debragga or LaFreida, so all the kitchen needs to do is have a broiler that can apply a crusty char. Perilla has that, which ensured that this ribeye would make it into the pantheon.

That ribeye was a bargain, given that it came with two sides: potato croquettes and roasted beets with chestnuts. (Most steakhouses would charge at least as much for that ribeye alone.) We adored the beet–chestnut dish, the first time we recall seeing that anywhere. The croquettes, although we could not finish them, were also brilliant, with a crisp crust giving way to silky creamed potatoes.

We never visited Perilla when it was new, but we got the sense that extra tables had been squeezed in to cope with peak demand. There isn’t much room to maneuver here, although the room isn’t as noisy as such places can sometimes be. Despite the crowds, service was warm and efficient.

We came to Perilla mostly out of curiosity—wondering if the former Top Chef winner was really a great discovery, or if he was just coasting on his reputation. We went home remarkably impressed. Harold Dieterle is an excellent chef, and Perilla is a terrific restaurant.

Perilla (9 Jones Street between West 4th & Bleecker Streets, West Village)

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