Center Cut

[Horine via Eater]

Note: Center Cut closed, replaced by Ed’s Chowder House.

In the increasingly compelling Lincoln Center pre-theater market, the latest entry is Jeffrey Chodorow’s new steakhouse, Center Cut. With 27 restaurants to his name—I think that’s the correct count, unless another has opened or closed in the last 15 minutes—Chodorow doesn’t linger over his projects. He’s had some hits (Asia de Cuba), which are enough to subsidize his many failures.

Center Cut is in the Empire Hotel, directly across the street from Lincoln Center. You’d think it’s the perfect location for a restaurant, but many have come and gone over the 27 years I’ve been watching. Center Cut ought to make it. Steakhouses seldom fail in New York, and this one pushes plenty of populist buttons. The space is lovely, albeit over-built. The menu is straightforward. It’s neither as silly as Chodorow’s now-closed Wild Salmon, nor as cynical as his still-open, but deathwatched, Kobe Club.

This is, of course, a Chodorow production, so you should expect to be mildly annoyed. They wouldn’t transfer our bar tab to our table. Although the restaurant was almost empty, they seated us right next to another party. The hostess supplied menus, “And your server will be able to give you a wine list.” We waited a while, and no server appeared, but fortunately the table next to us had a wine list they no longer needed. I guess there was a good reason, after all, for seating us so close together. The server finally arrived, with Jeffrey Chodorow’s patented Treatise on Upselling firmly in tow.

There are a baker’s dozen signature cocktails, many of them with operatic names (“The Tristan,” “The Isolde”). When you see that they’re $14–17, perhaps you’re not surprised that management is pushing them hard. I think we were asked three times if we’d like to order one. Classic cocktails, such as a Tom Collins or a Side Car, are a few dollars cheaper.

Like most of Chodorow’s places, the menu offers a lot to ponder. For starters, there are eight appetizers ($12–19), five soups ($13–15), and six salads ($9–15), plus a raw bar. For the main course, there are sixteen composed dishes in various categories ($29–41, not counting lobster, for which no price is listed) and six “center cuts,” served à la carte ($35–41 for one, $59–78 for two). For steak, the filet seems to be the best option: you can have it four different ways. There is no porterhouse, though there’s a T-bone for two ($56). There are six available steak sauces and ten sides ($7 each). On top of that, there’s a $39 pre- or post-theater prix fixe, served from 5–7 p.m., or after 10 p.m.

The restaurant’s mantra is, “Where Style & Sustainability Meet.” On the wine list, purveyors are marked with little logos if they’re “Organic,” “Sustainable,” or “Biodynamic.” If you don’t know what those terms mean, don’t worry: there’s a little essay that explains it. The steaks, from Brandt Beef, are alleged to be “natural, humanely-raised, antibiotic and hormone free.” Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said the concept was free of sillyness or cynicism.

Bread service was terrific—a hot Parker House roll (above)—though the butter needed to be softer.

 

I started with the Slow Roasted Berkshire Bacon ($12; above left), which would have been fine enough on its own, and didn’t need a bed of bitter-tasting “beer roasted onions.” A Caesar Salad ($13; above right) was over-dressed.

 

The menu warns that its “Flintstone” Brandt Beef Ribs ($32; above left) are “for two or one ‘really hungry person’.” That warning is accurate. The foreshortening of the photo doesn’t do justice to the amount of food you get. Two could easily share this dish, especially if you also order sides. According to the server, the BBQ sauce is a hand-me-down from chef Bradley Day’s family. If so, the Day household was probably a pretty good place to eat. Both the sauce and the meat were done perfectly.

My girlfriend found the prime rib ($35; above right) a bit too salty and not flavorful enough, though I had no objection to the small piece of it that I tasted.

 

Both side dishes, Potatoes Dophinoise (above left) and Roasted Corn & Manchego Gratin (above center) were excellent. It was good to see compelling options beyond the usual steakhouse classics. Eggplant Fries don’t float my boat, but the Wild Mushroom Strudel is one to try next time.

The wine list is almost all young (2004 or later), and there aren’t many bargains. Except for Beaujolais, nearly all the red bottles are above $65. If three-star restaurants like Café Boulud and Corton can offer a whole page of wines under $60, surely other places can too. I ordered a 2006 Brouilly at $40, mainly because we were going to the opera and I knew we weren’t going to finish it. With most reds by the glass priced at $14 or higher (and I wouldn’t have ordered the ones that weren’t), it seemed like the way to go.

For a nearly-empty restaurant, service ought to have been a bit more attentive. A manager buzzed around the few occupied tables, correcting the staff’s many oversights. The server was a decent enough fellow when you had his attention.

There were hits and misses here, but it looks like one can put together a respectable meal at Center Cut. Most steaks are priced below $40, and there are even some entrées in the high $20s. Those prices aren’t low enough to qualify as bargains, but they are below a number of other steakhouses that have opened in recent years. The bill mounts quickly if you order wine and side dishes, but you can still put together a decent meal here for less than the average Manhattan steakhouse.

Service was uneven, and I’d like to think it will get better with time, except that this is a Jeffrey Chodorow restaurant, and some of the glitches seem to be in China Grill Management’s corporate DNA. I’d certainly like to see more people in the cavernous dining room, lest this restaurant suffer the fate of so many others in the Empire Hotel.

Center Cut (44. W. 63rd St. between Broadway & Columbus Ave., Upper West Side)

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

Corton

[Kreiger via Eater]

Note: Click here for a review of Corton on Valentine’s Day 2009, and here for a later visit in August 2009.

Dinner at the new restaurant Corton is like a double homecoming. It marks the return of chef Paul Liebrandt, last seen in New York during a brief, controversial tenure at Gilt. And it marks the return of the iconic space once the home of Montrachet, now almost unrecognizable after a stunning make-over.

Liebrandt has made waves wherever he cooked, but mainly he is known for acclaimed cuisine in restaurants that didn’t last very long. His last restaurant, Gilt, has survived—perhaps even thrived—but Liebrandt himself was forced out after disappointing reviews, including just two stars from Frank Bruni at a place clearly designed for three, or even four. I’m one of many who thought Bruni really missed the boat, but his reviews, not mine, are the ones that count.

Montrachet was the place that put chef David Bouley and restauranteur Drew Nieporent on the map in TriBeCa. Bouley left to start his own place, but Montrachet remained a successful three-star restaurant under a long line of chefs. The Times demoted it to two stars in 2004, and it finally closed in 2006 after an impressive 21-year run.

At Corton, which opened about a month ago, the foodies are once again rapturous over Paul Liebrandt’s cooking. He has toned down his act a bit. The three-course prix fixe at Liebrandt’s Gilt was $92, and many dishes carried high supplements. The wine list there included Screaming Eagle at $1,000 a glass. Gilt, indeed, was an appropriate name.

At Corton, the three-course prix fixe is $77, and the wine list is priced for a recession. No one would call Corton inexpensive, but it is priced like a restaurant that wants to earn its laurels, rather than one that presumes they are inevitable.

Since Montrachet, Drew Nieporent has opened one successful restaurant after another, including Tribeca Grill and the Nobu chain. The man knows how to open restaurants, and he is taking Corton very seriously. He was working the floor on a Saturday night, acting as maitre d’ and even busing tables. Originally, I was offered an 8:45 p.m. reservation, which was a bit later than I wanted. When Nieporent had a cancellation, he called me personally that evening to say we could come in early.

The cuisine at Corton is still recognizably Liebrandt’s—especially his love of beets—but it’s a far cry from the Gilt days. This is still luxury cuisine, but he’s not packing two dozen ingredients to the square inch, as he did before. If you’re familiar with his wilder self, it’s impossible to eat at Corton without hoping that the unrestrained Liebrandt will make a comeback. But if Corton is a success, there will be time for that later on.

  

You get a sense for the more laid-back Liebrandt with the amuses-bouches, which are simple and effective (above). The bread service came with two contrasting butters, but the baguettes weren’t as soft as I’d like.

 

For the starter, I ordered the Veal Sweetbreads (above left). You can’t see it in a photo, but there’s a poached egg under there too. After you puncture it, the egg yolk and the sweetbreads combine to pack a terrific flavor punch.

Foie Gras (above right) was wrapped in a hibiscus-beet gelée—a typical Liebrandt dish, perfectly executed.

 

Squab (above left) came wrapped in smoked bacon with a chestnut crème and a milk foam. This was a beautiful dish, though I can also imagine that a certain critic might complain about the hockey puck-sized fillets on the plate. The preparation was first-rate, but some might prefer to see visual evidence that this actually came from a bird.

The Filet of Black Angus Beef (above right) was the rare example of beef in a non-steakhouse restaurant that is actually worthwhile, even though the prepration seems comparatively simple. Yes, there are beets on that plate too, with an Oxtail confit.

 

Robert Truitt’s desserts are wonderful. I’m afraid I didn’t take note of the palate cleanser (above left). We had the ‘Crème Cake’ with amaretto, orange, and vanilla-tamarind (above right) and the cheese selection (below right), and the meal concluded with an impressive selection of petits-fours.

 

The legendary Montrachet wine list, sadly, was auctioned off a couple of years ago, and sommelier Elizabeth Harcourt had to start from scratch. Its current incarnation certainly can’t match the old one, but there are some impressive bargains here. Two full pages headed “French Country Wines” feature bottles between $30–60, including plenty, both white and red, below $45. That is practically unheard of these days, especially in a restaurant at this price range.

At $75 and under, you’ll have plenty of options. Indeed, though I told her I was willing to spend that much, she recommended a 2006 Lirac at just $50. That is the largest gap I can remember between my budget and a sommelier’s suggestion. It shows that Corton is serious about earning repeat business with a wine program that doesn’t break the bank.

The in-house wine list is only 15 pages, with an additional 25 pages’ worth on a “reserve list” that is kept offsite, and can only be ordered in advance. Almost all of those wines are priced above what I would spend, even on a special occasion, but keeping them offsite limits diners’ flexibility and eliminates the possibility of an impulse buy.

Service was polished and confident: you wouldn’t think this restaurant is just a month old. The early part of the meal was a bit rushed. We ordered champagne to begin, and we thought we were sending obvious cues that we didn’t want to order food instantly. The staff seemed, if anything, a bit nervous that we would feel offended if we were just left alone for a while.

The restaurant was about 80% full—not bad, but probably not where they want to be on a Saturday night. Liebrandt is a first-class talent, in in Drew Nieporent he has a partner who knows how to steer a restaurant through a recession. Let’s hope they get the recognition they deserve.

Corton (239 West Broadway between Walker & White Streets, TriBeCa)

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

FergusStock

The English chef Fergus Henderson is in town this weekend, giving New Yorkers a chance to sample his renowned “nose to tail” cooking. He’s working tonight at The Spotted Pig (menu here), and tomorrow at Momofuku Noodle Bar (menu here).

I dropped in on the Pig earlier this evening. I was fearful of an intolerable wait, but I was there at 5:00, they opened the kitchen at 5:30, and I was seated at 6:00. (I drank a couple of beers in the meantime.) The man at the table next to mine, who seemed to be a Fergus groupie, said that last year’s wait was much worse. For those into celebrity spotting, I saw Anne Burrell and Tom Colicchio. I’ve no eye for that kind of thing, so I probably missed a dozen others.

 

The menu included such Henderson specialties as Roasted Bone Marrow, Ox Tongue, Devilled Kidney on Toast, and Deep Fried Rabbit. All of those looked interesting, but I started with the Pressed Pig’s Ears ($16; above left)— basically a terrine, fatty and gelatinous. Fat, indeed, was the order of the day. Pot-Roast Bacon, Trotter & Prune ($28; above right) was also a plate full of fat, which is not a bad thing, but one must accept it for what it is.

 

I wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about a side of Roasted Parsnips in Duck Fat ($7; above left), which seemed too slimy; or a slice of Walnut, Chocolate & Amaretto cake ($8; above right), which was too dry. In fairness, the latter is a standard Spotted Pig dessert, and had nothing to do with Henderson’s presence.

This was my second visit to the Spotted Pig (earlier report here). For a place that’s a gussied-up pub, the service is impressive. The server was well schooled about the unusual, one-time-only menu. Amidst a crush of humanity, they were still willing to transfer my bar tab to the table, and my napkin was refolded each time I got up to visit the washroom.

The special menu’s signature item was a Half Pig’s Head for 2, for $55 (above). The man next to me ordered this all for himself, as his companion was having none of it. As he dug in, he said to her, “I’ll let you know when I get to the meat; so far, it’s all skin and fat.” By the time I left, he had dismembered most of the head, but skin and fat were all he found. I must say, it looked pretty good, but not to the point that I’d eat one all by myself.

Was it a revelation? No. But it was fun to try a couple of things that no one else in town is serving. The couple next to me was planning to follow Fergus to Momofuku Noodle Bar tomorrow night. I don’t think I can ingest that much fat two nights in a row.

The Spotted Pig (314 W. 11th Street at Greenwich Street, West Village)

Inside Park at St. Barts

 

Inside Park at St. Barts wins this season’s award for the oddest restaurant location: the former chapter house of the landmarked neo-Byzantine St. Bartholomew’s Church on Park Avenue. Folks, you must visit this restaurant. It is crazily good. Oh, and the space is gorgeous too.

Former Savoy sous chef Matthew Weingarten serves a locavore, greenmarket-driven menu. That’s hardly an original idea, but everything is beautifully done. My face lit up when fresh bread, soft herb butter and a bowl of pickled vegetables arrived at the table. When they get the butter right, you’re usually in for a good evening.

The menu offers a selection of 14 “simple plates” from $4.50–8, or you can get any three for $18: things like beets and poppy cream, smoked beef tongue, smoked black cod, torched mackerel and quince. We gave those a pass, but they look promising if you’re just there to nosh. Conventional appetizers are in the $10–16 range, entrées $26–32, side dishes $7.

 

Smoked Country Sausage ($12; above left) with heirloom apples and cabbage was one of the more enjoyable home-made sausage dishes we’ve had this season. Crispy Breast of Lamb ($16; above right) was a clever starter, with the lamb lightly fried with a black walnut chutney.

 

You don’t see Walleye Pike ($28; above left) on many menus. It was perfect here—the skin crisp, the flesh tender and moist. The vegetables were first-rate as well, with creamed cauliflower, raddicchio, caper and egg. Chicken ($26; above right) was also faultless, the kind you wish you could have every day. The accompaniments here were roasted artichoke, farro and marjoram.

 

We don’t normally order dessert, but we had to try the Lavender Goat Cheese Soufflé ($14; above left), which was as good as it sounds. The meal ended with small petits-fours.

Service was faultless. For a six-week-old restaurant, Inside Park seems to be running about as smoothly as could be.

Unfortunately, it looks like this restaurant could be in for a tough time. On a Friday evening, it appeared to be no more than 10% full. The neighborhood isn’t known for nightlife, so it will need strong word-of-mouth to attract diners to a destination they wouldn’t normally seek. We can only hope they’ll succeed. This is one of the best mid-priced restaurants we’ve visited in quite some time.

Inside Park at St. Bart’s (109 E. 50th Street at Park Avenue, East Midtown)

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

Picholine

  

Note: Picholine closed in 2015 after 22 years in business, due to a rent increase. The announcement was bittersweet, coming the very day that Picholine was awarded a star in the 2016 Michelin Guide. The chef, Terrance Brennan, said he would re-open it in a new location to be determined.

*

Picholine is 15 years old, and to “celebrate” they were offering a $50 gift card via the website. That’s a nice chunk of change, even for a restaurant this expensive. And I suppose the offer (which is no longer available) shows that it’s getting harder to find customers in these recession-challenged times. Sure enough, when my mom and I dropped in for a pre-opera meal, Picholine was as quiet as I’ve ever seen it—not deserted, but nowhere near full.

Apparently, chef–owner Terrance Brennan is not yet tempted to lower his prices. Since our last visit, earlier this year, the three-course prix fixe has risen from $85 to $92, while the tasting menu has risen from $110 to $125. A game tasting menu, offered only in the fall, is $145. I wouldn’t mind giving that a try at some point, but this wasn’t the night for it.

The mauve décor made a better impression than it did last time; perhaps it’s more successful in the front room than in the rear. Just about everything about the service and ambiance seemed pitch-perfect, though it helped that the restaurant was less crowded than I’ve seen it before. My mom couldn’t get over how many servers and runners were buzzing around.

 

A quartet of amuses-bouches was more impressive than the trio we were offered last time. I didn’t note them all, but the one on the right (above) was a tempura mushroom on a skewer.

 

A Tuna Cru “Napoleon” (above left) with olive oil ice cream was just fine, but unmemorable. My mom had the Sea Urchin Panna Cotta (above right), which is one of the best things on the menu.

 

The server recited a choice of four Scottish game birds—partridge, grouse, quail and Mallard duck. (He did not mention the $8 supplement.) I had the duck, which was really terrific—tender and gamey, along with a crunchy leg confit. My mom had a fish, which I believe was the John Dory (above right). From the small taste I had, it seemed pedestrian. My mom didn’t use that word, but she agreed the duck was better.

 

The palate cleansers were served in an odd order. As I was having the cheese course, but my mom was not, hers came before the dessert (above left), but mine came after it. Anyhow, the cheese cart (above right) is always the highlight of a meal at Picholine. I told the fromagier that I wanted three cheeses with sharp tastes, soft to medium in texture, and at least one blue cheese.

 

And that’s exactly what he gave me (above left). My mom’s dessert was a chocolate something-or-other (above right).

 

My palate cleanser (above left) came after the cheese course, and that was followed by petits-fours, which we did not touch (above right). They sent us home with a complimentary bottle of olive oil, which I do not recall from previous visits.

The wine list here is wonderful, though it seemed shorter than I remembered it. Anyhow, I found a perfectly drinkable Guigal Côtes du Rhone for $45. After you figure in the $50 gift card, it basically means we had a great dinner at Picholine and drank for free. Not bad.

Picholine (35 W. 64th St. east of Columbus Avenue, Upper West Side)

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

Le Périgord

 

I always book French restaurants when my mother is in town. Last weekend, we looked in on Le Périgord, one of the city’s few remaining grandes dames of classic French cuisine. My last visit was over a Memorial Day weekend, when I found it a bit deserted and dowdy, though still worthy and essential.

This time, on a more typical Friday night, we found business a bit more brisk—though it was not full. And the décor doesn’t seem quite as dowdy as it did last time. Actually, it doesn’t seem that way at all, though they’re long overdue to fix a tiny hole in the ceiling, which as I recall was there last time too.

At a restaurant this old, strengths and weaknesses aren’t likely to change rapidly. The bread service remains unimpressive, and it comes with cold, hard butter—just like last time. The menu is a $65 prix fixe—just like last time. The menu doesn’t change much, nor does it need to, but there are seasonal specials.

 

My girlfriend ordered the cold hors d’oeuvres (above left), which for most people would be a meal in itself. I loved the vegetable tart (above right) in a tangy butter sauce. My mom had the oysters (below left).

 

My mom and my girlfriend both chose the roasted duck. The kitchen will serve a portion for one, but when it’s ordered for two, they present the whole bird and carve it tableside (above right & below left).

 

I had the elk (above right), an off-menu special, which was excellent. It had a wonderful gamey flavor, though the accompanying rib was a bit tough.

 

The desserts we chose were fairly simple, but no less effective for that: a blueberry cream tart or the same in raspberry, both with a large dollop of fresh cream.

Most critics in town don’t give credit for classics done well, as if it requires no particular talent to execute the same recipes for decades. Yet, over and over again we see new restaurants serving the old favorites, and falling flat on their faces. Just because it’s classic doesn’t make it easy. Le Périgord continues to get it right, and for that it gets three stars.

Now, if only they’d do something about that cold butter.

Le Périgord (405 E. 52nd Street, east of First Avenue, Turtle Bay)

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

Brasserie Cognac

 

Brasserie Cognac is one of several classic French restaurants that have opened in the last year. I am not quite sure where the idea comes from. I haven’t seen any great demand for the genre, and the city’s major critics routinely remind us that no one wants it. Still, it persists, and I’m one of those who hopes it always will.

I had high hopes for Brasserie Cognac based on a promising early visit six months ago. Last weekend, I went back with the whole family. The restaurant isn’t exactly drawing crowds. It was practically empty at 6:00 p.m. on a Saturday evening—not a great sign for a place that ought to be pulling in pre-theater diners.

Alas, I can’t say the pre-theater folk are missing much. Brasserie Cognac does a few things well, but it’s too inconsistent. Those of us who favor classic French cuisine can do better elsewhere.

 

A tomato tart with goat cheese (above left) was the best thing we had, with a crisp, thin crust like pizza. My girlfriend and my son both had the French onion soup (above right), which came out not quite warm enough.

 

For the main course, my son and my girlfriend both had the Blanquette de Veau, or veal stew (above left). Like the onion soup, it came out cold, and had to be sent back. Pot-au-feu, or beef with vegetables, was the daily special (above right). The beef was tender and rare inside, but there was a certain laziness about both this and the Blanquette de Veau. Both dishes seemed dull. The broths and vegetables had a cafeteria quality to them. My mom had the Moules Frittes (mussels with fries), and the kitchen at least got that right.

The bread service was mediocre, with butter so hard it was practically unspreadable.

Brasserie Cognac undermines itself in other ways. The space is gorgeous, clearly the result of a not inconsiderable investment. Why, then, do they play generic pop elevator music out of the loudspeakers? If they’re trying to create the feeling of an authentic French brasserie, why not take it seriously?

There’s a wide range of prices, but there are plenty of appetizers and salads under $15, entrées under $30, and wine bottles under $50—though, of course, you can spend more. If the food were more reliable, Brasserie Cognac could easily be a go-to place for the neigborhood.

My girlfriend had a good summary of the meal: “You know, these dishes may be classics, but it’s still hard to get them right.”

Brasserie Cognac (1740 Broadway at 55th Street, West Midtown)

Food: Uneven
Service: Would be fine, if only the food were warm enough
Ambiance: Nice looking, but no buzz; needs a new soundtrack
Overall: Satisfactory (no stars)

Sunday Suppa at Dovetail

Dovetail opened last year to rapturous reviews. When we visited in March, I couldn’t quite decide if it deserved all those laurels. I gave it 2½ stars, half-a-star lower than the major critics did. We were back this evening for Dovetail’s “Sunday Suppa,” a three-course meal for just $38. If the food were as good as the critics say, this would be one of the best deals in town.

Unfortunately, I had the same reaction as last time: excellent appetizers let down by disappointing entrées. Pastry chef Vera Tong’s wonderful desserts offered partial redemption. I also have the same reaction to the atmosphere. At times, Dovetail acts like it wants to be a three-star restaurant, but it doesn’t carry out the act thoroughly or consistently enough to deserve it.

I was also dismayed to find almost no red wines below $50—and those I did find were both young and obscure. I settled on a 2005 bottle of the seldom-seen Irouléguy appellation from the south of France, at $49, which they then proceeded to charge at $51 (they corrected the bill when I pointed this out). This is definitely a wine list that has not caught up to the recession.

Dovetail is still doing brisk business, but it’s not as busy as it was six months ago. I was able to reserve a 6:30 p.m. table just a few days in advance. Still, you can’t just walk in at prime time. When we left, at around 8:30 p.m., they had just turned a party away.

The meal started well. The amuse-bouche (above) was a sliver of smoked salmon wrapped around a horseradish filling. The bread service was the same terrific cornbread that Dovetail has been serving since the beginning.

   

All three appetizers were first-rate: an Asparagus Velouté with cream and bacon (above left), Mushroom Risotto (above center), and Sweetbreads (above right).

  

Among the entrées, Lamb Meatloaf (above left) was the least objectionable, but it was a bit dry. Loin of Pork (above center), served off the bone, was too tough. Prime Rib (above right) had to be sent back, as it was too rare. It came back rubbery; adding insult to injury, it carried a $12 supplement.

 

We had no complaint about the desseerts—a French Toast-like confection (above left) with enough butter and cream to be a meal in itself, Carrot Cake (above right) and sorbet (not pictured).

The level of accomplishment in the appetizers and desserts makes us wonder how the entrées could be as off-key as they were, but we’ve been underwhelmed by them twice, so we’re bound to conclude it’s a chronic problem. The kitchen probably turns out some great main courses (the talent is obviously there), but it hasn’t happened on either of our visits.

Dovetail (103 W. 77th Street at Columbus Avenue, Upper West Side)

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

Reboot at Bouley's Secession

Update: A commenter (below) says that the prix fixe was for two days only, and that the original menu has returned. We have not been by to see if this is so. Besides that, “Restaurant Week” specials typically do not supersede the entire menu of the restaurant.

* * *

In my review of David Bouley’s new restaurant Secession, I suggested that “about half this menu needs to be jettisoned.”

Bouley has done a lot more: he has thrown out practically all of it. As of last night, Secession is serving a $45 prix fixe. I walked by the restaurant this afternoon and had a look.

There are now just 7 appetizers, 6 entrées (all served with a pot of Tuscan fries for the table) and 4 desserts. That compares to last week’s menu, which had more than 25 appetizers and 25 entrées. I didn’t note every item on the new menu, but the available entrées include chicken, Wiener Scnitzel, and Spaghetti Carbonara. The long charcuterie menu has been reduced to just one pâté.

The menu is headed, “A Preview in Collaboration with Zagat.” You can’t make this stuff up.

I don’t suggest for a second that my review had anything to do with it, but there are enough terrible ones out there that Bouley clearly needed to do something—fast. With this more limited menu, he can now focus on the basics, as he should have done in the first place. Calling it “a preview” keeps the critics out,” or at least might persuade them to be gentle.

Bloomingdale Road

Note: Bloomingdale Road has closed, after four months in business and mostly mediocre reviews.

Update: The Times reports that the restaurant remains open with a limited menu, but Chef Ed Witt has left, and the owner is trying to renegotiate the lease.

Coda: After failing to negotiate a more favorable lease, Bloomingdale Road closed on Saturday, February 7, 2009.

*

Bloomingdale Road opened about a month ago on the Upper West Side in the former Aix Brasserie space. Chef Ed Witt was last seen at Varietal, where he was roundly panned by most critics, and was fired shortly after a devastating review from Frank Bruni in the Times.

At Bloomingdale Road, Witt abandons some of the more absurd flights of fancy that doomed Varietal. This is still a thinking-man’s menu, but with a comfort food soul that goes right for the gut. Among our two appetizers and two entrées there wasn’t a single disappointment, or anything remotely close to it. I am not ready to call this destination cuisine, but if you’re in the neighborhood this has got to be one of the better options.

So far, the neighborhood agrees. The large, tri-level space is doing a brisk business. The vibe is casual (but check out the funky chandeliers), and the menu is sensibly priced for a recession economy. There are snacks ($5–9), Soups & Salads ($7–17), Small Plates & Sandwiches ($10–16), Pastas ($17–19), Mains ($18–24) and Sides ($5–8). There’s an ample selection of 23 wines by the glass, and the there are plenty of decent bottles under $50, including the Rhone blend we had for $42. 

The menu says that items are designed to be shared, though it’s not clear which selections that applies to. My pork chop, for instance, didn’t seem to be any more obviously shareable than any other pork chop I’ve seen. Gael Greene’s review mentioned that several of the supposedly shareable items come in threes, which is not a wise strategy, as most tables have even numbers of customers. Shareable dishes should come in twos or fours; never threes.

For a large, fairly new casual restaurant, service was attentive and impressive. A manager was making the rounds, and it appeared he stopped at just about every table to ask how things were going.

Meals start with a delicious Parker House roll, with soft creamy butter. The roll is cooked in a tin can, which the server delivers to your table and turns upside down. I must admit the roll’s phallic shape didn’t occur to me at the time, but it was rather apparent when I looked at the photo the next morning.

 

We started with two items from the “Small Plates” section of the menu. The terrific House Made Sausage ($10; above left) is made with smoked pork and jalapeño, topped with cheddar, white beans & chips. We also loved the Duck Confit Parfait ($14; above right), served in a glass jar with brandied cherries poured in at tableside. This is a larger portion than it appears in the photo. It came with three slices of round toast for spreading; we asked for three more, and they came quickly. For the size of the portion, they should just send out six pieces of toast with every order.

 

There was nothing fancy in either of our entrées, but both were done just right, and this is no small accomplishment in a kitchen turning out as much food as this one. I could find no fault in the Chicken ($22; above left) or the Pork Chop ($24; above right), with cheese grits and caramelized apples.

One never knows what the future will hold, but if Ed Witt can keep the kitchen operating at this level, Bloomingdale Road should be an Upper West Side hit.

Bloomingdale Road (2398 Broadway at 88th Street, Upper West Side)

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