Union Square Cafe

Note: In late 2015, Union Square Cafe closed at its original location, due to a rent hike. It is expected to re-open a few blocks away in spring 2016, in the former City Crab space.

*

Has it really been 20 years since I visited Union Square Cafe? I’ve a vague memory of lunch there, about that long ago. It’s been on my revisit list since forever, but was never readily bookable at times I wanted to go.

Reservations have loosened up a bit: recently, I was able to book midweek at 6:45pm on ten days’ notice. I don’t recall ever being able to do that.

You really do need to try Union Square Cafe. On any fair reckoning, it is one of the most influential New York restaurants of the last quarter-century. If it had accomplished nothing else, it would deserve a place in the pantheon for launching the career of restaurateur Danny Meyer, who was 27 when it opened in 1985.

There were stumbles then: a one-star review from Bryan Miller in 1986. Meyer persisted, replacing the opening chef (Ali Barker) with Michael Romano, winning three stars from Miller in 1989. By 1999, William Grimes re-affirmed three stars, noting that although the place was still “hugely popular…It’s not the food that’s setting off the stampede.”

When Union Square opened, it was one of the first, and the best, of a new breed that Bryan Miller called ”international bistro,” in reviewing the restaurant in 1989 in The New York Times and awarding it three stars.

Union Square has not changed, but the world has changed around it. Michael Romano, the executive chef and part owner, does what he has always done, and done very well, which is to turn out jazzed-up bistro and trattoria fare with utter consistency. What looked like a flashy sports car a decade ago now seems more like a midsize Buick cruising in the center lane at a precise 65.

Ten years later Frank Bruni knocked it down to two stars. There were too many blunders; the food wasn’t consistent enough. But he still found, as one does at every Danny Meyer restaurant, “staff so seemingly genuine in their yearning to accommodate you and their contrition when they can’t that Danny Meyer…must be giving them either Method acting classes or major pharmaceuticals. Maybe both.”

It would be foolish to expect Union Square Cafe to change very much. At some point, a pathbreaking restaurant becomes a tradition in itself. This restaurant has earned that.

It could still clean up its act. I don’t know many places that serve a $13.50 cocktail, with a straw still in its sealed paper sheath. A restaurant of this caliber shouldn’t be serving any accessory in its factory wrapper. When I ordered a glass of wine to follow up, the server failed to bring it, because she didn’t notice I’d finished that cocktail, even though considerable time went by.

We ordered two appetizers to share; only one came. Realizing their mistake, the staff served the second appetizer with the entrées. (To be fair, it was taken off the bill without prompting.)

The cuisine is difficult to classify. The website calls it “American … with an Italian soul, using fresh ingredients from the local Greenmarket.” Miller’s first three-star review called it “Northern Italian” cusine, flat out.

Over the years, the Italian influence has mellowed, aside from the pasta section of the menu. Most of the appetizers and main courses could be found in any seasonal American restaurant, though descriptive Italian words pop up here and there. In the service and ambiance, Union Square Cafe doesn’t resemble an Italian restaurant at all.

Prices are not expensive, for a restaurant that had three stars until quite recently. Snacks are $4–7, appetizers $10–19, pastas $16–19 (small portion) or $26–29 (large), entrées $27–35, side dishes $8–10. I’d call that the “upper middle” price range for Manhattan. The menu changes daily, and the website (every time I checked) displayed a current one.

Appetizers were weaker than the main courses. Asparagus Tempura ($19; above left) sounded like a good idea, but when you throw in lobster, seared pork belly, and ramp vinaigrette, it’s at least one ingredient too many. The asparagus were good, but the lobster was slightly rubbery, the pork belly a bit chalky.

From the snacks portion of the menu, we ordered the Pig Ears ($6; above right) as our second appetizer. This was the item that didn’t come out on time. I liked the tarragon mustard, but the ears themselves were in a cloying sauce that tasted like soy. We didn’t bother to finish them.

I was impressed with both entrées. Pork shoulder ($27; above left) was in a honey-balsamic glaze, with ramp polenta and spring slaw. I’m not positive what accompanied the Trout ($27; above right), as the online menu has since changed, but the fish itself was lovely.

The beverage list runs to 33 pages; wines are mostly French, Italian, and American, priced from the mid-$40s to the thousands. There is something here for almost every budget.

The attractive tri-level space would be considered a bit old-fashioned if it opened today, but I doubt there are any complaints from the clientele, which skews slightly older than average. There is a younger crowd at the bar, where a full menu is available. The décor deftly straddles the line between formal and casual. Whether it’s a special occasion or an average night out, you can feel at home.

The service, so eager to please, fumbles at times — or did on this particular night — but Union Square Cafe remains worthwhile, and could still teach its many imitators a thing or two.

Union Square Cafe (21 E. 16th St. between Broadway & Fifth Ave., Union Square)

Food: American Greenmarket with Italian influences, mostly very good
Service: As accommodating as can be, if a bit sloppy at times
Ambiance: A civilized, adult restaurant; would that there were more of them.

Rating: ★★
Why? Still one of the best of its kind, after all these years

Back Forty West

Note: Back Forty West closed in July 2016, ending chef Peter Hoffman’s 26-year run in the space (most of it, as Savoy). After more than a quarter-century, Hoffman certainly owes no one an explanation, but as noted below, he cited economic reasons for turning Savoy into Back Forty West. We have seldom seen such transformations work. Savoy was a special place; Back Forty West was just a casual neighborhood spot, and there are plenty of those. Not even Hoffman’s special touch could make it compelling.

*

It was hard not to be a little bit sad when chef Peter Hoffman closed Savoy last year after a 21-year run. The neighborhood, once considered remote, was now overrun with tourists. The restaurant’s farm-to-table cooking, once pathbreaking, was now replicated on almost every block.

Yet, Savoy remained uniquely charming, especially on a winter evening with the upstairs fireplace roaring. Though never really formal, Savoy felt like a special night out. There were always better restaurants than Savoy; none had made it irrelevant. But Hoffman bowed to the inevitable: facing a rent increase, he needed a concept that would turn tables, attract walk-ins, and wouldn’t be dependent on destination diners.

His casual place, Back Forty, in the far East Village (now closed), supplied the template: a more laid-back version of the same cooking style; reservations not taken. It worked on Avenue B, so he kept the name (with “West” attached), which meant he wouldn’t get professionally reviewed. I’m not sure if that was a plan or a miscalculation.

The space doesn’t really look that different from what I remember (and what photos show) Savoy used to be. The website sports all the haute barnyard buzzwords that Hoffman pioneered before the rest of us had heard of them: locavore, farm-to-table, responsibly sourced, greenmarket, in-season.

But the menu is a lot different, with snacks under $10, and only three dishes above $21. Soft-shell crab and ramps appear, so you know it’s seasonal (and you would’ve been shocked if it hadn’t been). A grass-fed burger at $12 looks like a steal, until you realize that’s without cheese or fries (each another $2).

Then you look at the wine list, and your heart sinks. What there is, is not very good, or far too expensive. Among a dozen reds, there was nothing I trusted below a $60 2005 Rioja (not great), served in juice glasses. Are real wine glasses, even the cheap kind, really unaffordable?

The menu invites confusion, with categories labeled “Breads”, “Hands”, “Spoon & Ladle”, “Fork”, “Fork & Knife”, and “Spoon”. Everything in the last category is clearly a dessert (including cookies, which I can’t imagine eating with a spoon). But every other category is a mish-mash, as I was soon to learn.

From the “Fork” category, Grilled Kale & Escarole Salad ($14; above left) was straightforward and very good, with creamy parmesan dressing, white anchovies, fried capers, and crispy chickpeas.

Also from the “Fork” category: Smoked Bits Baked Beans ($8; above right). But this turns out to be a side dish, as I suppose I should’ve guessed, when the server asked if I’d prefer to have it with my entrée. Yet, on the bill it’s printed as an appetzier, so apparently the staff is not sure. Anyhow, it was not very satisfying, and I couldn’t really detect much flavor out of the burnt ends that were supposed to be there. The dish was mostly just beans and tomatoes.

There seems to be an on-site smoker, and the kitchen makes good use of it. A sliced pork chop special ($28; above left) shared the plate with polenta, chickpeas, and grilled shrimp. It’s a bit audacious to serve pork so rare, but it was excellent, with a rich, charcoal flavor. Chicken ($20; above right) also came out of the smoker, and was just as skillfully done.

The restaurant was busy but not full on a Saturday evening, which makes me wonder if they ought to start taking reservations. We were willing to give it a shot, and were seated right away, but I wonder how many people aren’t coming, because they don’t want to risk an uncertain wait?

Although Back Forty West no longer has Savoy’s charm, it’s a pretty comfortable place, by today’s standards. The lights upstairs are kept low, the music isn’t loud, and there’s still that fireplace. The service is not very attentive, but if it takes a while to flag someone down, you probably won’t mind lingering here. If only they’d get the wine program into shape.

Back Forty West (70 Prince Street at Crosby Street, Soho)

Food: Casual American locavore
Service: Slightly inattentive, but acceptable
Ambiance: Laid-back, but not loud, and there’s still that fireplace; date spot

Rating: ★
Why? No longer unique, but still worthwhile

Vitae

After nearly two unpublicized decades—working at the likes of Bouley, Gramercy Tavern, and various corporate gigs—chef Edwin Bellanco decided he was ready for his own place: Vitae, meaning life.

Based on an admittedly small sample—one visit—I’d say Bellanco was ready for his own place. The food was excellent, some of the best I’ve had this year in this concededly over-worked idiom, slightly upscale “user-friendly Euro-American fare.”

He’s allied himself with some serious talent: General Manager Emily Iverson came over from Lincoln. The striking modernest décor by Studio CMP cannot have come cheap.

Yet, there are perplexing blunders at Vitae, starting with the name. Google it, and you find it’s easily confused with several other restaurants with a similar (or indeed the same) name. Not until the middle of the second search page is there a lonely link to this restaurant, along with many others to the wrong ones. And with so much expense lavished on the build-out, why is the website out-of-date?

Vitae is clearly designed to appeal to the midtown business crowd, both at dinner and at lunch. That makes sense, given the location. But the proffer is a familiar one—“approachable contemporary cuisine,” “seasonable contemporary American,” etc. Those phrases, so often bandied about, don’t really entice the dining public these days (assuming, for argument’s sake, that they once did). They promise a blank slate, onto which the chef can write whatever he pleases.

There’s not a single thing on the menu—not one blessed thing—that will look unfamiliar to anyone who dines out frequently in Manhattan. The chef can therefore offer only excellence, which he absolutely does.

The menu, priced firmly in the upper-middle, is reprinted daily and is sensibly edited (both encouraging signs), with eight appetizers ($12–18) and nine entrées ($24–28; plus a Creekstone Farms ribeye, $45). Pastas, listed as entrées, are also offered as appetizers for $12; side dishes are $8.

There’s a thousand-bottle wine wall with about a hundred choices in a wide price range, from $30 to $1,050. The host offered to decant even the rather modest Cotes du Rhone we ordered (Alain Voge, Les Peyrouses 2009; $42).

The cocktail list is a mix of classics and house recipes. I don’t normally shoot beverage photos, but did here, to show how little $14 gets you.

 

A Painkiller (above left) was a great drink, but nearly all ice; while a bourbon sidecar (above right) tasted watered down and filled less than two-thirds of the glass.

 

Matters improved significantly when the food arrived, including warm, house-baked bread (above left), which we learn from Dame Greene is slathered in duck fat; and a bracing celery root soup as amuse bouche.

 

There’s a four-course “chef’s tasting” for $65. Everything offered is on the regular menu, but the chef sent out different items to each of us, so we wound up tasting eight dishes, far more than I normally would in one visit.

I loved both appetizers, the Poached Egg (above left) with sunchoke, bacon, and black truffle sauce; and the Seared Diver Scallop (above right) with cauliflower, golden raisin, cashew, and a Thai curry sauce.

 

We enjoyed both pastas, but we give the nod to the Chestnut Agnolotti ($12 as appetizer; above right) with prosciutto and parmesan broth. Ricotta Gnudi ($12; above left) are somewhat hackneyed. This was a decent version of the dish, with walnut pesto, chorizo, and parmesan.

 

Pan Roasted Cod ($24; above left) is bathed in a smoked razor clam chowder with fingerling potatoes. I admired this dish, although my girlfriend thought the chowder a bit overwhelming. Duck ($28; above right) was impeccable, with both the breast and confit of leg, endive marmelade, Brussels sprouts, and parsnip.

 

For dessert, a Chocolate Fondant ($8; above left) with Espresso Crème Anglaise and whipped creme wasn’t bad, but for sheer pleasure was surpassed by an Apple Tart Tatin ($8; above right) with Mascarpone. (The only other desserts on the regular menu are Crème Brûlée or a selection of cheeses.)

The décor is in my opinion stunning (better in person than the photos suggest), though just about anything that opens these days is criticized as outdated unless it’s distressed chic. At dinner time, they do need to lower the lights a bit; this isn’t an airport. The spacious, upholstered bar stools are the most comfortable I’ve experienced in quite a while.

The dining room was perhaps one-third full on a Friday evening, the predictable consequence of opening in a business neighborhood that doesn’t attract leisure diners. The staff was extremely attentive, the predictable consequence of not having enough customers to worry about. But this was only the first week in business, far too soon to pass judgment.

The chef is obviously talented. Let’s hope his business partners can operate a website and get the word out.

Vitae (4 East 46th Street, near Fifth Avenue, East Midtown)

Cuisine: Contemporary Seasonal American
Service: Attentive and experienced; impressive for a week-old place
Ambiance: A striking, modern, comfortable, somewhat upscale room

Rating: ★★

Dovetail (remodeled)

News that Dovetail had remodeled yet again brought me back last week, where I hadn’t been since a disastrous “Sunday Suppa” in 2008.

I’ve been a fan of chef John Fraser since he was at Compass. His short-lived pop-up, “What Happens When,” served one of the best meals I had in 2011. But neither of my Dovetail visits quite lived up to the three New York Times stars or the Michelin star it currently holds.

The space was remodeled in 2009 (photos here, here), gaining a new 16-seat bar area, twenty new seats in the dining room, and an expanded wine cellar. But it still resembled the original décor (left), with exposed brick and no tablecloths.

Last month, Dovetail closed again for a week. This time, they’ve gone all-in for elegance: there are crisp white tablecloths, and no more brick. It finally looks like a three-star restaurant.

That makes Dovetail more endearing, though it would no doubt have been a demerit when Frank Bruni and Adam Platt reviewed it four years ago. Its reputation assured, Dovetail no longer hedges its bets.

The current menu is in four sections: appetizers ($20–34), vegetables ($17–34), entrées ($37–48), and desserts ($10–16), with about half-a-dozen choices per category. Yes, that’s expensive if ordered à la carte. There’s a four-course $85 prix fixe, but you can order just two courses (as we do in most restaurants, and did here), and contain the damage.

I can certainly do without such pompous moralizing, as: “The chef recommends that you order four courses.” Yeah, duh. Of course he does. If you offer a carte, don’t act disappointed when diners use it.

 

Dovetail has always served a trio of amuses bouches (above), and although I failed to take note of them, they were excellent—as they’ve always been.

 

From the vegetable section came a compelling starter: cured carrots, chicken feed (sic), and a soft-boiled egg ($18; above left). I wouldn’t serve it to a hungry football team, but it is larger than it appears in the photo.

Braised lamb ravioli with saffron, olives, and peppers ($24; above right) were also quite good, if a shade less novel.

 

Swordfish ($37; above left) with clam chowder, chorizo, and thyme, was the evening’s most impressive production, as beautifully cooked as it was to look at. (Fraser does have a high quotient of ingredients to the square inch.)

But it seems there is always one dud at Dovetail, and this time it was Sweetbreads ($46; above right) with heirloom potatoes, bacon, and truffles. It takes chutzpah to charge $46 for sweetbreads. They really have to be good. These were just average, and and the truffles didn’t add much flavor.

The dining room was not very busy, but we dined relatively early on a Saturday evening, and then left for a show. Our upselling server did a fine job, once he was past trying to sell us into four courses. 

The 24-page wine list has magnums of 1959 Château Latour at $11,000; yet, they’ll happily sell you a recent Beaujolais Nouveau at $30. The sommelier showed not a hint of dismay that I ordered it. The server could learn from her. That Beaujolais isn’t an anomaly, either. Whatever your price range, you can do business here.

In 2008, appetizers at Dovetail were $11–18, entrées $24–34. You could order at the bottom or the middle of that range, and walk out with an excellent mid-priced dinner. At its current, much higher prices, Dovetail can no longer claim to be an over-achieving neighborhood place. Fraser wants a second Michelin star.

At its best, Dovetail lives up to its billing. Fraser is a talented chef: the effort and craftsmanship in his best work elevate this restaurant over most of its peers. But at these prices, the duds (even if rare) are harder to excuse.

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

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

Goat Town

Note: Goat Town closed in July 2014. After remodeling, it re-opened in September with a new menu and a new name, GG’s.

*

When Pete Wells, restaurant critic of The New York Times, wasted a review slot last week on Shake Shack — an over-exposed chain that is not a restaurant, has been reviewed before, is not very good, and would remain perpetually packed no matter what he said — it raised an obvious question: what is not getting reviewed?

Submitted for your approval: Goat Town.

I don’t want to overstate the case for Goat Town. It’s an earnest, casual American bistro in the familiar farm-to-table mold, somewhat resembling the Brooklyn restaurant that its chef and owner came from, The General Greene. Almost every neighborhood has one now; across the river, they’re on every block.

But it plays the game well, is not entirely derivative, hasn’t been much reviewed (except for Sietsema in the Voice), and it offers at least one good dish you don’t find everywhere. In other words, it beats Shake Shack on every count, and by a wide margin.

The menu fits on a single sheet of paper. It’s inexpensive by today’s standards, with appetizers $5–14, entrées $17–26, side dishes $5–7, and desserts $5–9. From the beginning (late 2010), there has always been a goat dish on the menu, though there’s a double ententre in the name Goat Town: it’s the original meaning of the word Gotham, a long-forgotten insult coined by the writer Washington Irving.

 

If you want Bread & Butter (above left), you have to order it and pay an extra $2. I get the idea: it doesn’t break the bank, and that way they don’t send out unwanted bread that will go to waste. But for two bucks I thought they could have made a more bountiful presentation.

My son and I both ordered the Smoked Goat ($23; above right), served here with braised white beans and a parsley salad. I failed to re-orient the plate, so the photo shows mostly greens and beans. I can assure you the goat is there: two generously portioned loin chops, resembling lamb, but with a more pungent taste.

I always assumed that goat is frequently used in stews because it would be too chewy, but this goat was just fine, making a strong case that this meat doesn’t always need to be served in cubes with heavy curry sauce.

 

A side of Brussels Sprouts ($7; above left) was a bit sad looking, but the kitchen did very well by Roasted Carrots ($6; above right).

And a shared Coffee Caramel Sundae ($9; left), with coffee ice cream, a chocolate brownie, pecans, ice cream, and caramel sauce, was excellent.

The restaurant has a beer and wine license, but they make some worthwhile cocktails despite that limitation. The Abbott ($9), with white wine, Cocchi Americano, bitters, and lime, was ample and refreshing.

Goat Town takes reservations. We were able to walk in at around 7:30 p.m. on a Saturday evening, though that is early for the East Village. An hour or so later, we would have had to wait.

The décor is attractive for purpose, with a long bar along the left-hand side of a narrow space, leading to an open kitchen in back. Tables are made of reclaimed wood, with booths made of subway tile. Despite appearances, it didn’t get unbearably noisy. Service was fine.

Goat Town isn’t a destination, but it’s a good realization of its genre and well worth a visit if you’re nearby.

Goat Town (511 E. 5th Street, east of Avenue A, East Village)

Food: ★
Service: ★
Ambiance: ★

Overall: ★

Lowcountry

Note: Lowcountry closed. The space is now called Louro, under the same ownership, with chef David Santos.

*

Whenever there’s a chef change at a restaurant I’ve reviewed, I always make a note of it. I might not get around to a re-review, but at least it remains in the back of my mind.

I did make it back to Lowcountry, which has a new chef, Oliver Gift, as of January 2012. Much of the background of the restaurant remains the same, so I refer you to my October 2010 review for details.

The cuisine is still Southern U.S., but with more traditional menu headings: appetizers and mains, rather than the irritating “small” plates and “large.” Prices have crept up: whereas entrées were formerly $19–23, they’re now $19–30, with an average around $25. Some former apps are now served as larger and more expensive mains, but Lowcountry remains a low-to-mid-priced restaurant by today’s standards.

We thought the Lowcountry Sampler ($16; above) would be a good way to sample the appetizers. You get two bacon deviled eggs, two mini crab cakes, a bit of Benton’s country ham, and a scoop of leek dip with house-made chips. It is all unobjectionable, but equally unimpressive.

 

Last time, Shrimp & Grits with Andouille Sausage (above left) was a $14 appetizer; it’s now a $20 entrée. But what it seems to have gained is a bowl full of soupy grits that overwhelmed the shrimp and sausage.

Arctic Char ($24; above right) was considerably better, despite an overly precious plating that is really out of place for the restaurant. Char is a delicate fish, and the kitchen has mastered it, served on a bed of red quinoa.

In keeping with the Southern theme, there is an extensive bourbon list. We had a couple of bourbon-based cocktails that were strictly of the backyard barbecue variety, the sorts of unstudious drinks you wouldn’t mind if a buddy served them on the back porch.

The restaurant was not doing much business on a Sunday evening; I have no idea if that is typical. Service was fine, as you’d expect under those circumstances. The new chef has worked at some impressive places (Commerce, Blue Hill at Stone Barns), so I thought he might have plans to elevate the cuisine. He may yet, but so far that is not the case.

Lowcountry (142 W. 10th Street between 6th & 7th Avenues, West Village)

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

Alison Eighteen

Note: The opening chef, Robert Gurvich, severed his ties with the restaurant in July 2012. The restaurant closed in December 2013 after a short and undistinguished run. A new restaurant by Jesse Schenker of Recette is expected to move into the place.

*

“Just fine” is a label I often use when I’m served capably executed food which neither excites me nor fails in any articulable way.

Alison Eighteen is “just fine.”

The décor is modern and stylish. Service is attentive and professional. The wine list offers better breadth and depth than you usually see at a new restaurant, with plenty of reasonable choices below $60. Food prices are slightly on the medium-to-high side, but certainly not extortionate for the neighborhood.

The owner, Alison Price Becker, is a former actress who rose through the ranks at Rakel and Gotham Bar & Grill, then opened her own place, the much loved Alison on Dominick Street. Bryan Miller of The Times awarded two stars in 1989 and again in 1992, both under founding chef Tom Valenti, who is now at Ouest. Scott Bryan replaced him, also receiving two stars from Ruth Reichl. Dan Silverman (later of Union Square Cafe, Lever House, and now the Standard Grill) replaced Bryan. James Beard Award winner Michelle Bernstein cooked here at one point. Those are some impressive names.

The lesser known Robert Gurvich replaced Silverman in 1999. By now Alison was a franchise, with a place in Sagaponack (Alison by the Beach; 1998–2004). Alison on Dominick closed in 2011 after the 9/11 attacks, as diners stopped coming downtown, and for a while the site (located hard by the Holland Tunnel exit) could not even receive truck deliveries. She opened another restaurant (just plain “Alison”) in Bridgehampton in 2006, again with Gurvich, who is likewise chef at Alison Eighteen.

Ruth Reichl called Alison on Dominick “one of the city’s most romantic restaurants.” No one would say that about the new one. It is, as FloFab put it, “lighter and airier,” with a more overtly commercial intent. Still, there is a cool elegance and obvious care in the design: Ms. Becker even created her own wallpaper.

I suspect she’ll attract fans of the old Alison on Dominick, plus those who’ve gone with her to Sagaponack or Bridgehampton, and Elaine’s refugees. The restaurant is open for three meals a day and should do a brisk breakfast and lunch trade in this neighborhood.

The old Times reviews suggest that the cuisine here was never cutting-edge, but it was always executed with care and skill, and it remains so today. Even in 1992, Bryan Miller would write: “If there is a minor shortcoming here, especially for repeat customers, it is a moderate-size menu that usually lacks more than one special supplement.”

Twenty years later, with American locavore restaurants found on every half-block, the menu at Alison Eighteen may seem a bit old-fashioned: serving spit-roasted chicken without saying which farm the chicken came from? Shocking!

The menu fits on one broadsheet, with nine appetizers (mostly $12–19, but Foie Gras “A La Plancha” is $28), eight entrées (mostly $26–34, excluding a 35-day aged sirloin, $45), and half-a-dozen sides ($9).

That old standby, the Raw Yellow Beet Salad ($15; above left) shares the plate with slices of escarole and honeycrisp apple (neither very flavorful), with watermelon radishes and cider vinaigrette. It was a dish that read better than it tasted.

Sardine Crostini ($16; above right) were an annouced special, with a list of about ten ingredients that I won’t even attempt to recall. This was a considerably more exciting dish, the kind Alison Eighteen needs more of.

Both entrées were competently executed, if unexciting: Black Bass ($32) with artichokes, cannelini beans, cockles and a bit of chorizo; Spit-Roasted Lamb Shoulder ($32) with roasted vegetables. The server tried to upsell us into a side dish, which neither of these mains required.

The bread service (baguettes and olive oil) could be better, but petits fours (below right) were a nice touch, and I especially appreciated the (mostly French) wine list. We had the 2006 Pascal Granger Juliénas, a Beaujolais I suspect you won’t find in many other NYC restaurants.

Many of the city’s pro critics thumb their noses at restaurants that exist mainly for social reasons, and thereby miss their real merits. There is a need for places that serve reliable menus in stylish surroundings, with upscale service. I won’t run back to Alison Eighteen, but for the intended audience it fulfills its mission well.

Alison Eighteen (15 W. 18th St. between 5th & 6th Ave., Flatiron District)

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

King

Note: Francis Derby left King after just three months on the job, after a clash with the owners about the scope and ambition of the cuisine. As of March 2012, a sous-chef had replaced him. The restaurant closed in June. As of April 2013, the space is Charlie Bird.

*

Francis Derby’s name comes up a lot in NYC culinary circles. In the last eleven years, the chef has worked at Atlas, WD~50, Gilt, Tailor, Solex, Momofuku Ssäm Bar, and Shorty’s.32. I am not sure if that’s a complete list.

None of those were his own place. He has that now at King, which opened last month a converted railroad apartment on a quiet Soho street corner. Let’s hope this gig lasts longer than the others did. King is a restaurant I want to root for.

While I wouldn’t call King elegant, it has many of the amenities lacking in about 95 percent of new restaurants these days: tablecloths, a comfortable bar, reservations accepted, coats checked, a civilized dining room. It’s a superb, quiet date spot. I liked the décor, but to some diners it may seem old-fashioned. Some of it, I think, came from rummage sales, although Ken Friedman built a whole empire that way.

I’m realist enough to know that King is swimming against the tide. There’s a reason not many people are opening that kind of restaurant today. They have trouble finding enough guests like me, who value what King is trying to do.

There are some early fumbles (about a month in), as they try to figure out what works. A tripe gratin or tripe stroganoff, mentioned with derision in some of the early reviews, is no longer on the menu. Likewise a Pigs Head Tortellini and a Salt Crust Chicken for two. As the more intriguing dishes disappear, we’re left with a menu that on its face won’t wow anyone. Once the food arrives, you’ll find that the chef’s technique is top-notch, but first they have to get you in the door.

It is only January, but it’s not too soon to credit King with the dumbest restaurant gimmick of the year:

Push the ‘champagne button’ at your seat, and a server appears with flutes, an ice bucket, and a 375ml bottle of Vueve Clicquot.

There’s nothing at the table to indicate what the button does: we assumed it was just a light switch, until we noticed that every table had one, and then I remembered the stories I’d read. Without an explanation, no one will know what the buttons do. And if they have to explain it, perhaps the old-fashioned way is better: let servers look after their tables. Some problems just don’t need a technology solution.

In the one case I’m aware of where someone actually pushed the button (a Mouthfuls review), they waited 20 minutes, and all that happened was a waiter came over and asked if the party needed anything. But perhaps that’s better than the alternative, an expensive bottle of bubbly that the table probably didn’t want anyway.

Chef Derby has some pretty impressive restaurants on his C.V., but he is certainly not trying to out-do his mentors. He serves a straightforrward seasonal American menu, with no entrée above $29. But I really liked everything I tried over the course of two visits, especially at this price point.

A Chicken & Rabbit Pâté ($14; above left) was excellent. This could go on the menu at Bar Boulud (the city’s best charcuterie place) tomorrow. It seems every new restaurant this year has multiple poached egg dishes. King has a terrific one: Smoked Octopus ($16; above right) with frisée and radish.

Bouchot Mussels ($18; above left) steamed in beer were just fine. Pork Belly ($26; above right) is sometimes too cloying to be an entrée, but it worked here because the skin was nicely crisped, giving it the needed textural contrast.

On my second visit, I tried the Sweetbreads ($16; above left) in an appealing celery root and green olive dip and a great Brussels Sprouts and Lamb Bacon side dish ($8; above right). The plate of pastries at the end (below left) is a nice touch.

The wine list is fairly minimal—around a dozen bottles. I can’t complain about a 2004 Saint-Émilion for $58 (above right), but there aren’t a lot of choices like that. King needs more, and better glassware to serve it in.

There are some pretty good house cocktails, like the His Majesty (Ransom Gin, Purity Vodka, Lillet Blanc, Orange Bitters) or the Rejouissance (Prosecco, St. Germain, Lemon-infused Vodka, Bittered Sugar). Service behind the bar is better and more polished than at the tables, where servers, though friendly and well-meaning, still seem to be feeling their way.

The dining room was not very busy on either of my visits, but both were on weeknights and relatively early. A server said that the weekend business has been brisk. To succeed, King needs to thread a needle. It wasn’t built on a big budget, it’s not expensive, and the cuisine won’t make headlines. It needs to attract people like me, who enjoy such places and wish there were more of them.

King (5 King Street at Sixth Avenue, Soho)

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

North End Grill

Note: This is a review under founding chef Floyd Cardoz, who left the restaurant in April 2014. His replacement is Eric Korsh, formerly of Calliope.

*

You’ve got to admire Danny Meyer’s sense of the moment. He put fine dining into Union Square before Union Square was hip. Then, he did it at Madison Square. Then, he built the nation’s best museum restaurant at MoMA—indeed, one of the city’s finest restaurants of any kind, regardless of location.

There are some lesser accomplishments: an overrated burger shack that will soon have more locations than McDonald’s (OK, I’m exaggerating); an undistinguished barbecue joint. But even ignoring those places, it’s a remarkable record.

He’s also loyal to those who are loyal to him. A year ago, he shuttered the pathmaking Indian restaurant, Tabla, the first Meyer establishment to close. You couldn’t call it a failure, as the place had been open for twelve years, but it had run its course. But he didn’t fire the chef. Instead, he kept the talented Floyd Cardoz on the payroll until he could find another gig worthy of his abilities.

It didn’t take long. North End Grill has just opened in Battery Park City, along with a branch of that overrated burger shack and that undistinguished barbecue joint. They’ll all be hits.

When the project was announced, Meyer noted the irony that Battery Park City has the city’s highest-income Zip code, but it has never had any particularly good restaurants. With the new Goldman Sachs headquarters around the block, Meyer figured it was time to give the neighborhood a try.

In that announcement, Meyer made the restaurant sound decidedly middlebrow:

“This fits in with my casual restaurants, like Union Square Cafe, the tavern at Gramercy Tavern, Maialino, and the Bar Room at the Modern,” Mr. Meyer said. “I don’t see this as a special-occasion place.”

He confirmed that Floyd Cardoz, formerly of Tabla, which closed at the end of 2010, will be the chef, with a menu dominated by seafood. A dining counter will face an open kitchen and there will be a bar for drinks, not food.

North End Grill is much better than that. It is not as fancy as Meyer’s two remaining upscale restaurants, Gramercy Tavern and The Modern, but it’s quite a bit fancier than the other places he compared it to—the Tavern Room, the Bar Room, or Maialino.

By today’s standards, it is fine dining. The Goldman Sachs crowd will generate expense account business. Meyer was smart not to surrender that opportunity, and Floyd Cardoz shouldn’t be wasted on tavern food.

Meyer hedged his bets in other ways: the bar does serve food, and there’s a long communal table facing an open kitchen. But the main dining room (in the back, and not immediately visible when you enter) is smartly appointed in white and ebony trim, with crisp white tablecloths, comfortable banquetts, tables generously spaced, and captains in tie and jacket.

Whether you choose the bar or a sit-down meal, you’ll enjoy eating here.

The menu is upper-mid-priced, with appetizers and salads $12–18, entrées $19–44 (most of them $26–34), sides $6–9. There’s a distinct seafood slant, which features in all the appetizers, but the entrées are about a 50 percent split between surf and turf.

It isn’t a bold menu, especially the entrées: halibut, scallops, salmon, pork chop, lamb, duck, turbot, chicken, steak—practically, the laundry list of all the mains a “bar and grill” restaurant needs to serve, lacking only a burger.

But I was there on the second night of dinner service, and I’m sure North End Grill—like every other Danny Meyer restaurant—will gain focus as the restaurant gains its sea legs. For such an early visit (not my usual practice), the kitchen and the service team were remarkably sure-footed.

Cod Throats Meunière ($15; above left) is what passes for critic bait on this menu: the throat of the cod, dredged in flour and served in brown butter. The server compared it to sweetbreads, which was a fairly accurate description.

In an early candidate for Trend of the Year, there is a whole section of the menu for savory egg dishes. If they’re as good as the Tuna Tartare with Fried Quail Egg and Crispy Shallots ($16; above right), then I’d like to try them all.

The Ashley Farms Poulet Rouge ($52; above), one of three “×2” dishes on the menu, was excellent.

So too was a side of Hashed Brussels Sprouts and Lentils ($8; right), which was like a rich, warm cole slaw.

The wine list, which is currently only one sheet of paper, offers a reasonable selection for a new restaurant, although the sommelier said that a longer and deeper list is on the way. For us, the 2007 Haut Médoc from Château Sociando-Mallet ($64) was just right.

The hard liquor department specializes in scotch, with dozens of whiskies in a wide price range. There are also several scotch-based cocktails; I tried the Stone Fence ($13), with, sparkling cider, Peychaud’s bitters, and soda.

This is a Danny Meyer restaurant, so it won’t surprise you that the service was spot-on, allowing for some obvious first-night nervousness that will surely have subsided by the time you read this. I wouldn’t be surprised if North End Grill is a three-star restaurant before long—or what passes for one, now that the classic kind is gradually disappearing. I’m a bit more conservative, but stay tuned.

North End Grill (104 North End Avenue at Vesey Street, Battery Park City)

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

Veritas

Note: Veritas closed in October 2013. A restaurant called élan, from former Chanterelle chef David Waltuck, is expected to open there in 2014.

*

The owners of Veritas must have been frustrated with their Odyssean quest to find a chef worthy of their four-star wine list.

Founding chef Scott Bryan left in October 2007 with no destination in mind (he is now at Apiary). Journeyman Ed Cotton replaced him, couldn’t get reviewed, and was fired after just eight months. His replacement, the excellent Gregory Pugin, served the best food Veritas ever had, but he couldn’t get reviewed either, and the owners pulled the plug after two years and declining customer interest.

This time, there were no half-measures. One day in August 2010, management locked out the staff and closed abruptly for “renovations.” I assumed “renovations” were a prelude to winding up the business—it usually works that way. But three months later, the “new” Veritas duly re-opened with Sam Hazen as chef and partner, along with the original owners (mainly, wine mega-collector Park B. Smith).

I thought that this was total capitulation. Despite some pretty impressive restaurants on Hazen’s C.V. (Quilted Giraffe, Le Gavroche, Quatorze, La Côte Basque), he spent the last decade wallowing in mediocrity (Todd English Enterprises, Lucy’s Cantina Royale), and had created Tao, possibly the worst restaurant of the century, if measured by the number of copycats (all terrible) that it has inspired. If you had to pick one restaurant that encapsulates everything wrong with contemporary dining in New York City, it would have to be Tao.

And they chose this guy??

Gone was the $92 prix fixe, replaced by a menu said to be “more affordable.” Now, I’m all for affordability, but the open question was whether Hazen could offer anything better than over-priced stoner food, to go with co-owner Smith’s incredible wine collection. A three-star review from Sam Sifton was the first indication that, perhaps, Hazen was capable of better thngs than his resume suggested.

That new “affordability” is all relative. On Hazen’s New American locavore menu, appetizers are $13–22, entrées $29–49, desserts $11–13. That’s hardly bargain dining. But our food bill at the new Veritas was $107 for two (that’s before alcohol, tax, or tip), and we skipped dessert, an option the old menu wouldn’t have permitted. Remember, at the old Veritas it was $92 for one.

They’ve also banished the tablecloths. To be fair, even when table linens were fashionable, décor was never the strong suit at Veritas. The Brooklyn design firm Crème (Red Farm, Marc Forgione, Danji, La Promenade des Anglais) created a striking new look with painted white brick, stained wood accents, dark wood floors, filament bulbs, and floor-to-ceiling wine racks stocked with empty old bottles. It feels like a slightly derivative, more upscale version of what the one- and two-star restaurants are doing these days. But it is not unpleasant.

To my surprise, chef Hazen is serving very good, serious food, at the new Veritas. How he ever became involved with a shitshow like Tao is utterly beyond me, but the man hasn’t forgotten how to cook for real, and it seems he really is here to stay: he was in the house on a random Tuesday evening in January, with the restaurant about half full.

Wine is and always was the main point of dining at Veritas. Co-owner Park B. Smith told The Times that, to the 75,000 cellar that was already one of the city’s best, he’d added a “market list” with “quite a few choices for around $50 a bottle.” That is not really true: the majority of the market list is $60 or more (often way more), and you soon find yourself in the fifty-page reserve list, where practically all bottles are in three, four, and five figures.

Hazen’s menu is certainly as good as Veritas has served for most of its history (the all-too-brief Pugin era excepted), but it is not good enough to justify a visit unless you’re prepared to spend—and spend big—on wine. Even at a budget of $100 a bottle, 98 percent of the list will be out of your reach. It’s a pity that the $50–75 range is so anemic, but if you’re a wine lover you’ll drool with envy at the reserve list. Budget accordingly.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape remains a Veritas specialty. The section of the list devoted to it goes on for 3½ dual-column pages, with prices ranging from $105 to $5,500, and years ranging from 1978 to 2007. That nothing younger is offered (and indeed, the 2007s are not numerous) suggests that the restaurant is admirably waiting for younger bottles to mature before offering them for sale.

Anyhow: Châteauneuf-du-Pape is my own personal favorite, so there was no doubt what I would order. The 2000 Panisse Noble Révélation at $105 was sublime. (The staff decanted it, as they have done on past visits.) It only makes me wish I could afford more.

The amuse bouche (above right) was a warm winter vegetable soup. A choice of three breads was offered, along with soft butter. We both chose the house-made olive brioche, which was excellent.

Ibérico Ham ($19; above left) was offered as an announced special. Although there was nothing wrong with it, I thought that Hazen had defaulted to a luxury ingredient without doing much to augment it. In contrast, Merguez & Farm Egg ($15; above right) was superb, a hearty mix of spicy stewed tomatoes and lamb sausage.

Both entrées were well conceived, but were a bit less succulent than they ought to be. Striped Bass ($36; above left) is served crisp with the skin on, with eggplant, sweet peppers and sauce vierge. Wooly Pig ($37; above right), having a slightly more gamey flavor than other breeds, is brined in maple syrup overnight and served with a breaded stick of pork confit, which was excellent.

The evening ended with a plate of petits fours (right), and the staff gave us muffins to take home for breakfast. (The pastry chef is Emily Wallendjack, formerly of Cookshop.)

The staff are inclined to upsell, which we resisted. Sommelier Rubén Ramiro, having been asked for a recommendation around $100, suggested a bottle priced at $135. And the server had the temerity to encourage us to purchase a third entrée to share—the vegetarian item—although both entrées came with vegetables already.

Although it is easy enough to ignore the staff’s attempts to extract more money from the customer, it comes across as greedy and low-class, at a restaurant that is already very expensive.

But perhaps these compromises are the necessary evils to keep Park B. Smith’s extraordinary wine collection in the public eye. The “Brooklyn plus” décor is inoffensive; Chef Hazen’s cuisine is pretty good and might even be excellent on the right day. The service, aside from upselling, is acceptable.

Veritas (43 E. 20th St. between Broadway & Park Avenue South, Flatiron District)

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