Anita Lo, co-owner of the beloved (and Michelin-starred) Annisa, has lately followed the path of many a celebrity chef who was trained in French kitchens: she’s gone downmarket and pan-Asian. First came the Rickshaw Dumpling Bar in 2005, where she consults; and now, Bar Q.

Bar Q is just a few minutes’ walk from Annisa, so she won’t have trouble keeping tabs on the place. But the upscale comfort-food menu looks like it was designed for dependable replication in her absence.

There are a lot of dishes that are braised, smoked, roasted and fried, including plenty of pork. “Tea-smoked” recurs in the description of three different items. There are odd combinations, like “tuna ribs” and “pork wings.” Who knew pigs could fly? A “Trio of Tartares” makes the obligatory appearance.

The space has been beautiully done in blonde woods and white walls. One of the servers said, with a grin, “I painted all the artwork.” There is no artwork; just hard, bare walls. I am a bit concerned that the space could become oppressively loud when full, but that is mere speculation, as the restaurant was nearly empty when I visited at around 6:00 p.m. on a Monday evening. There’s a lovely outdoor garden, which is scheduled to open sometime in May.

The menu is not inexpensive, with raw bar selections at $2–7 per piece, appetizers $11–16, entrées $18–29, and side dishes at $7.

There’s also a tendency to upsell. My server said, “We recommend starting with a raw bar selection, followed by an appetizer and a main course.”

I thought to myself, “Well, yeah, of course you recommend that.”

Once I had nixed that idea, the server helped me narrow down my order to the better appetizer and entrée choices, describing each as a “signature dish.” You have to wonder how that’s possible for a place that has been open three weeks.

There are house cocktails, but when I told the server I don’t like excessive syruppy sweetness, he suggested I give them all a pass. I heeded his advice in favor of an Old Fashioned.

 
Grilled Squid Salad (left); Stuffed Spareribs (right)

I started with the Grilled Squid Salad ($10), which had a wonderful smoky flavor. I asked the server if the squid had been smoked, and he cheekily replied that this was a “secret”. The accompanying Hijiki salad (seaweed) was unmemorable.

A dish called Stuffed Spareribs ($23) might lead you astray. It’s a solid brick of pork, served off the bone: pork stuffed with pork. The sauce is described as “Lemongrass BBQ, Peanut and Thai basil.” Peanut is what stands out. Is it good? The execution was superb, so it comes down to whether you like your spareribs to taste like peanuts. Hours later, I was still a bit haunted by the porky-peanutty taste. But I’m not sure I want my spareribs like that.

Bar Q offers a little bit of fun, but it strikes me as overpriced for a neighborhood place, yet not quite enthralling enough to become a destination.

Bar Q (308–310 Bleecker Street between Grove & Barrow Streets, West Village)

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

The hassle of obtaining a reservation of Momofuku Ko has quickly become the stuff of legend—and that’s for a restaurant barely over a month old. After finally wrestling this bear to the ground, I can finally answer the question: Is it worth it?

Not that my opinion matters, because MoKo (hat tip: The Pink Pig) has MoJo. If, by any chance, there were a negative review—and I haven’t seen one yet—it would hardly make a difference for the restaurant that seemingly can do no wrong. In this week’s New York, MoKo earns four stars from Adam Platt (conferred by the frothing critic after just one visit). At the Paper of Record, Frank Bruni is taking his time, but the smart money is betting on another four-star review.

Irrelevant though our verdict may be, the short answer is: Yes, MoKo really does deserve all of that attention. And yes, if you care at all about food, it really is worth your while to jump through hoops to become one of the approximately 32 guests that are served six nights a week. (They are closed Tuesdays.)

The ten-course tasting menu is not the best we’ve had in New York, but it is pretty darned close. And you get it for $85, which is at least $50 per person less than what you’d pay elsewhere for comparable quality. What you lose is the comfort and coddling that the better restaurants offer. You’re seated at a bar on wooden stools; those with back problems needn’t apply.

The chefs also serve the food, assisted by two servers who have to navigate a narrow space and sometimes can’t quite keep up with the demand. Peter Serpico, the restaurant’s executive chef, served most of our courses. He seemed to have very little enthusiasm for that part of the job. Two other chef–servers seemed more cheerful, but our sense was that the real joy for them is in the cooking.

Chef–owner (and media darling) David Chang was in the house. For about the first half of the meal, he was behind the counter doing mostly prep work, along with three other chefs. A photographer from Bloomberg news was snapping photos; everyone lightened up considerably after he left. Chang later disappeared, though we saw him again briefly before we left. There appeared to be two other employees behind the scenes, washing dishes and doing other prep work.

The two non-chef servers had an awful lot to do: greeting and seating guests; checking and returning coats; taking and delivering beverage orders; clearing plates (but not always); and setting silverware (but not always). Though the restaurant’s 14 seats were never completely full at any time during our meal, that is still a lot for two servers to do. Silverware didn’t always arrive when it should, and we detected some uncertainty among the staff about who was responsible for clearing plates.

Want a cappuccino after dinner? Sorry…they only have espresso.

The entrance, unlabeled and easily missedI am not suggesting that service is bad here, but merely pointing out the gulf between Momofuku Ko and traditional three- and four-star restaurants. The service routine will improve with time, but MoKo will probably never offer the kind of pampering and coddling that many diners expect at this price level. It’s not an “occasion place,” but if future menus are as good as the one we had, I would happily go again. And again.

The beverage program is continuing to improve. There’s now a respectable wine list, with bottles as low as $32, as well as those in the hundreds. There is now a premium wine pairing at $85, in addition to the standard wine pairing at $50 that was available before. We ordered the premium wine pairing and were impressed with the choices, which included two sakes, a sparkling rosé, one red, and a number of whites.

Wine pairings are always a crap-shoot. At their best, you get provocative wines from producers off the beaten path—great wines that compelment the food, and that you never would have chosen yourself. At their worst, you get dull, generic wines that make you wish you’d just ordered a “blow-the-doors off” full bottle. The pairings at Ko are firmly in the first category. At $85, the wines are mostly young; you’re not getting anything like the 1962 Madeira we were served at Per Se. But it is still one of the more impressive wine pairings we’ve had, and well worth it.

In the restaurant’s early days, the menu is pretty much the same for everybody, but there are alternatives for most courses, to offer variety for second-time guests or to accommodate diners with dietary restrictions. We reported only one such restriction (my girlfriend doesn’t eat scallops) but we were served alternatives for four out of ten courses. By switching plates, we were able to sample fourteen dishes between us.

 
English muffin with pork fat and pork rinds (left); Fluke sashimi with spicy buttermilk & poppy seeds (right)

The first item—technically the amuse-bouche—was a miniature English muffin slathered in whipped pork fat, with dried pork rinds on the side. Some reviewers have raved about the muffins, but we weren’t quite as impressed. Chang has proved you can pair pork with anything; so what? The wine pairing was a sparkling rosé.

We adored the first savory course: Long Island fluke sashimi with spicy buttermilk and toasted poppy seeds. The cool, bracing freshness of the fluke worked perfectly with the spicy heat of the buttermilk. The wine pairing was a nice Chablis—and that comes from folks who aren’t Chablis fans.

 
Berkshire pork belly & oyster in kimchi broth (left); Louisiana crawfish in a Georgia pea soup (right)

The next course was split. I had the Berkshire pork belly with a Long Island oyster, Napa cabbage and kimchi consommé. You’ll never go wrong when David Chang serves pork (we saw him shucking the oysters), but I must confess I don’t quite get the fuss over the kimchi that many other critics have raved about.

My girlfriend had the Louisiana crawfish in a Georgia pea soup with crumpet mushrooms. The flavor contrast here might have even been better than the pork/oyster combo, but the crawfish should have been a little warmer. And it was probably just a goof, but we had to ask for spoons.

The wine pairing here was a sake.

 
Hen egg, caviar, potato chips (left); White asparagus, caviar, asparagus purée (right)

Another split course came next, again with white wine.

There’ve been snickers about “hen eggs” (anyone ever hear of a rooster egg?), but they can call it anything they want when it’s this good. A lightly smoked egg was supported here with hackleback caviar and candied lemon zest. At the edge of the plate, a pile of fingerling potato chips added very little to the effect.

We saw the chef lavishing plenty of attention over lovely white asparagus stalks, which were grilled, sauced with an asparagus purée and garnished with caviar. This bland and overly salty creation couldn’t compete with the intensity of the hen egg.

 
Scallop (left); Soft-shell crab (right)

While we were eating our caviar, we watched as the chef decapitated live soft-shell crabs and put them the frying pan, their legs still squirming. We did our best to ignore the crabs’ fate, but it wasn’t a sight for the squeamish.

This was another split course, with the crab served to me and the scallop to my girlfriend, even though she is the one who doesn’t eat scallops. The scallop was served with radishes, the crab with ramps, and both dishes had a other ingredients we couldn’t write down fast enough. The wine pairing was a Chardonnay.

The crab didn’t have much flavor, and it was also difficult to eat. Even though my girlfriend doesn’t eat scallops, I persuaded to try a bite, and she agreed it was the more enjoyable of the two.

Shaved foie gras, lychee, pine nut brittle, riesling gelée

If MoKo has fired a “shot heard ’round the world,” it’s surely the dish that came next: shaved foie gras over lychee, pine nut brittle and a riesling gelée. The ingredients join in your mouth, leaving a startling sensation of the foie gras melting and melding with its unlikely companions.

The wine pairing was a sweet sake.

 
Deep-fried short rib as it came out of the fryer (left); and as served on the plate (right)

The deep-fried short ribs are almost as big a hit. They’re slowly braised overnight, then quickly finished in the deep fryer. The chef trims away the ends, a waste that we considered practically criminal, given how tender they are. I would happily eat a meal comprising nothing but the ends Momofuku is throwing away.

There’s also daikon radish and pickled mustard seed on the plate, but the short rib is the star. The wine pairing was our only red wine of the evening, a Cabernet Sauvignon.

 
Miso soup with grilled rice (left); Lychee sorbet (right)

The last few courses weren’t quite as interesting. The last savory course was a miso soup with grilled rice and pickled vegetables. I believe the rice is slathered in more pork fat. The palate cleanser was a lychee sorbet over sesame crumble.

 
Cereal milk panna cotta (left); Deep-fried apple pie (right)

Everyone at MoKo seems to get one of two desserts, so we were pleased to be able to try both. The more interesting of the two is a cereal milk panna cotta with brittle chocolate and an avocado purée. The alternative was a deep-fried apple pie, which was just fine, but not all that far removed from the McDonalds version. On the whole, the desserts didn’t have the same level of invention as the savory courses.

There were no outright duds among the fourteen items we tasted. Setting aside the hype, there were several extraordinary dishes, a number of others that were merely good, and four or five that really ought to be better. A couple of dishes (the foie gras, the short ribs) have already gone platinum, and may be on the hit parade for a long time to come. The lesser stars will, I am sure, give way to new flights of Momofuku fancy.

Not since Per Se has a new restaurant been the subject of such over-heated attention. But sometimes places are hyped because they’re really worth it, and this is one of them. If you don’t mind hard, backless benches and occasionally inartful service, Momofuku Ko is just about everything it’s cracked up to be.

Momofuku Ko (163 First Avenue between 10th & 11th Streets, East Village)

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

The chef Zak Pelaccio has come a long way since he was a cult hit at the Chickenbone Cafe in Williamsburg. His fans followed him to 5 Ninth in the Meatpacking District (from whence he later departed), and then to Fatty Crab a few blocks away.

Since then, he has turned his solid reputation into self-parody, cashing in one “consulting chef” gig after another. Chop Suey is the latest of these. It features one of Pelaccio’s trademark multi-Asian menus, along with one of the best views in the city, assuming you find it charming to look out on the bright lights of Times Square. Frank Bruni did, awarding one star in The Times.

Chop Suey is more than just a great view. The Renaissance Hotel did a lovely job with the renovation. The décor is stylish, comfortable, and understated—as it should be when you’ve got the most famous view in America. With only 78 seats, a majority of which were empty at 8:15 p.m. on a Saturday evening, you can actually have a quiet and unhurried meal here.

If only the food matched the view

That assumes the food is worthwhile, which it isn’t. Pelaccio’s menu seems phoned in. That’s the problem with a “consulting chef” who doesn’t stick around to edit out the clunkers, or even to ensure his vision (if he had one) is faithfully executed. We had three appetizers and three entrées between us, and there was only one item I’d recommend. That’s too low a ratio of successes to failures, especially when dinner for three runs to almost $250 (including tax and tip).

 

 
Crispy Rock Shrimp (right); Curry Leaf Fried Chicken Wings (right)

Crispy Rock Shrimp($18) would have been unobjectionable, but a bed of stringy, cold, allegedly braised pork belly was just strange. Curry Leaf Fried Chicken Wings ($15) seemed no different to us than the Hooters variety.

Steamed Rice Cakes (left); Atlantic Halibut (right)

If you saw Steamed Rice Cakes ($12) on the menu, would you expect something resembling the photo above? I sure didn’t. I’m a simple guy: “rice cake” implies “rice” and “cake,” and the dish included neither. But it was the evening’s only hit. There were gnocchi in there, along with spicy pickled vegetables and a Korean pork bolognese.

Moving to the entrées, an Atlantic Halibut sous vide ($28) was lovely enough, although boring. I detected none of the promised Prosciutto di Parma, and the clam medley underneath it was pointless.

 
Ginger Chicken (left); Beef Short Ribs (right)

My son wasn’t fond of the Ginger Chicken ($32), also cooked sous vide, nor of the ginger tempura dumplings that came with it. Beef Short Ribs ($30) were a horror show: sliced too thin, overwhelmed with chili sauce, and not tender enough. We thought it was impossible to ruin short ribs. Now we know better.

The other “consultant” at Chop Suey is pastry chef Will Goldfarb. Perhaps he has done a wonderful job with the desserts…but perhaps not. We weren’t willing to roll the dice again.

With this wonderful space and this gorgeous view, the Renaissance Hotel deserves a far better restaurant than this. It’s time to fire the consultants and start over again.

Chop Suey (714 Seventh Avenue at 48th Street, 2nd floor of the Renaissance Hotel, Theater District)

Food: Disappointing
Service: Acceptable
Ambiance: Wonderful
Overall: Not Recommended

Is it possible to be more hyped than David Chang? Where should we start? In 2007, he was the James Beard Rising Star Chef of the Year. Both Bon Appétit and GQ named him Chef of the Year. Frank Bruni awarded two stars to Momofuku Ssäm Bar, then named it Best New Restaurant of 2007, despite the little detail that it opened in 2006.

On eGullet.com, a crowd of adoring admirers has all-but canonized him. They said that Ssäm Bar was at the vanguard of a “New Paradigm” of “haute cheap” restaurant dining. Discussion board regulars criticised me, not because I disliked Momofuku Ssäm Bar (which I don’t) but because I failed to exhibit the required paroxysm of rapture. In truth, on two previous visits I found the food at Ssäm Bar very good indeed, though the ambiance leaves a lot to be desired.

That’s the backdrop to the very generous offer I received last week from eGullet regular Nathan, to join him for a Bo Ssäm, the one remaining item at Momofuku Ssäm Bar that I was really dying to try.

The Bo Ssäm is a 10-pound Berkshire pork butt (the shoulder, actually), braised for seven hours. Ssäm Bar serves two of them a night. A Bo Ssäm pre-order is the only way to get a reservation—6:00 p.m. or 10:00 p.m. (11:00 on weekends). It requires a big group, which I’m not quite enterprising enough to put together myself, so I was grateful that Nathan did all of the organizing: he’s so fond of the Bo Ssäm that this is the third time he’s ordered it. And he’ll probably do it again.

Current Menu (click to expand)

Prices at Momofuku Ssäm Bar are gradually inching upward, with many items a dollar or two higher than they were last year. The Bo Ssäm, which was $165 just fifteen months ago, is now $200. There are now two tasting menus ($45 and $75). The wine list has expanded a bit, though I don’t find any of the choices particularly impressive, and most bottles are over $50.

Nathan ordered the appetizers, and our party of nine was able to sample a good deal of the Ssäm Bar menu.

Diver Sea Scallops — lychee, yuzu, watercress (left); Seasonal Pickles (right)

We started with Diver Sea Scallops ($16), which I enjoyed, although Ssäm Bar regulars said that an earlier version of the dish was better. Seasonal Pickles ($10) offer plenty of taste contrasts.

Fuji Apple Kimchi — Burgers’ smoked jowl, maple labne, arugula (left); Steamed Pork Buns (right)

Fuji Apple Kimchi ($13) is one of the regulars’ current favorites, and it can’t be denied that the apple and bacon combination works beautifully. Steamed Buns ($10) with juicy pork belly is a dish that can’t miss.

Fried Brussels Sprouts — chilies, mint, fish sauce (left); Spicy Tripe Salad — poached egg, frisee (right)

I remembered the Fried Brussels Sprouts ($12) from my first visit. They’re terrific, so it’s no surprise they’ve remained on the menu. I was not especially fond of the Spicy Tripe Salad ($15).

Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes — Chinese broccoli, crispy shallots (left); Grilled Veal Sweetbreads (right)

I don’t have a particular recollection of Spicy Pork Sausage & Rice Cakes ($18), but I loved Grilled Veal Sweetbreads ($15)—usually, they’re served fried, breaded or sautéed, but when simply grilled they stand up beautifully on their own.

Santa Barbara Sea Urchin — tapioca, whipped tofu, scallions (left); One dozen oysters (right)

The Santa Barbara Sea Urchin ($16) with tapioca and whipped tofu is a much celebrated dish. I certainly respect the creativity that went into it, but I wasn’t all that enamored with it.

At this point, I felt like I’d already had a full meal, and the pièce de résistance (accompanied by a dozen oysters), hadn’t even been served yet.

The Bo Ssäm in all its Glory

The Bo Ssäm could almost be called liquid pork: it is braised to a point of such tenderness that the meat practically collapses at the touch. It comes with leaves of lettuce; you are supposed to put the pork inside, add sauce, wrap it up, and eat it like a burrito—that’s what the “Ssäm” in the restuarant’s name actually means. I tried this once, but from then on I was content to just eat the pork itself. It is so luscious that one can hardly be bothered to interrupt the appointed journey from plate to mouth. This must be one of the top ten dishes in New York.

 
Cheddar Shortcake — apples, ham cream (left); Hazelnut Torte — parsnip buttercream, grapefruit (right)

Desserts, which could so easily be an afterthought at such a restaurant, were first-rate. I especially liked the Amish Cheddar Shortcake ($9), with an almost wickedly clever “ham cream.” Hazelnut Torte ($9) wasn’t bad either.

With nine certified foodies at the table, it’s no surprise that the State of the Momofuku Empire was a topic of conversation. One of my companions admitted that he had expected to see Momofuku clones springing up; so far, it hasn’t happened. My own view is that Ssäm Bar is sui generis. Impressive as the food may be, it lacks almost every other amenity that a good restaurant should have—a place to hang up your coat, for instance. As prices continue to rise, and Chang is distracted by other projects, I wonder if Ssäm Bar’s charms may start to fade as diners come to grips with its limitations.

There are signs that Chang’s act is starting to wear a little thin. Over on Grub Street, Cutlets suggested that Chang, “earnest and talented as he is…needs to be reassessed.” Over on Eater.com, a contributor complained that the very dish that Momofuku Ssäm Bar was named for—the $10 Momofuku Ssäm—is no longer offered at dinner.

What on earth is Chang up to? Another of my dining companions, a Ssäm Bar regular, conceded that “I’ve never seen him here.” Two weeks ago, Chang announced that “it’s clear some of us need to step aside and let the real talent shine,” naming new chef–partners for his two current East Village restaurants, as well as the still-unopened Momofuku Ko.

You have to wonder if all of the accolades are going to his head. If Thomas Keller—who has more restaurants than Chang—is in the kitchen at The French Laundry on most evenings, then why is Chang “stepping off to work on new restaurant projects” when, less than two years ago, all he had was a noodle bar? As Cutlets notes, “Ko will have to be phenomenal (and, let’s be honest, it very well could be) to shield him from what could be some backlash against the flood of praise bestowed upon the young chef in the past year.”

I don’t think Chang is the certified genius that some people say, but you have to give him credit for the remarkable phenomenon that is Momofuku Ssäm Bar. No one knows where it will go from here, but it certainly won’t be boring.

Momofuku Ssäm Bar (207 Second Avenue at 13th Street, East Village)

Food: **
Service: *
Ambiance: Burrito Bar
Overall: **

 

I overlooked Riingo when it opened almost four years ago in the Alex Hotel. My girlfriend is a fan of the chef/owner, Marcus Samuelsson, who also runs the Swedish restaurant Aquavit, so I figured a visit was past due.

The restaurant is Samuelsson’s take on Asian Fusion, which was no longer a new concept when Riingo opened. It garnered mixed reviews: Amanda Hesser delivered a two-star rave in the Times, but Adam Platt in New York (in his pre-star system days) was less impressed.

Amuse-bouche: Mystery Mackerel

It’s possible to see why Hesser liked the place, as everything we tried had potential. But alas, the execution was truly incompetent, and it was coupled with some of the most bumbling service we’ve seen in a long time.

The menu offers the standard appetizers ($5–14), salads ($10–16), entrées ($23–32) and side dishes ($5–6), along with a Japanese menu offering sushi, sashimi, and rolls. All the categories have an eclectic mix, so “tuna foie gras” appears on the sushi menu, and the entrées accommodate interlopers like steak frites. As it is located in a hotel, Riingo also serves breakfast and lunch, along with weekend brunch.

The room is decked out in the expected style, but the rear dining room, in which we were seated, is surprisingly cramped, and servers struggled to negotiate the space. The host made the odd comment that we had the best seats in the house. Our small table with overlapping placemats seemed like nothing of the kind.

The amuse-bouche seemed to be mackerel something-or-other; the explanation was inaudible. The bread service included stale rolls and something much better: a spicy ruffly potato-chip like substance along with a guacamole-like dip (all offered without explanation). As the server took the amuse plates away, he put our dirty forks back on the placemats, as one would do at a cheap diner. They can’t afford clean forks?

 

Don’t adjust your television set: Roasted Beet Salad ($12; above left) came in an odd-shaped bowl that tilted slightly to the right. The kitchen forgot the goat cheese that was supposed to come with it. The chicken that was supposed to be in Chicken Dumplings ($10; above right) was scarcely a rumor, as it was overwhelmed by a sour broth.

There was no false advertising about Rare Tuna ($26; left). As you can see in the photo, it’s as rare as can be, but the accompanying pumpkin purée was lukewarm and tasteless. Bok choy was warm, but had been left in the steamer too long.

My girlfriend had the Chili-Roasted Chicken ($23), which was dry from over-cooking.

We ordered wine along with our food. When I pointed to the item I wanted, the server asked, “By the bottle?” I thought this was peculiar, as the menu didn’t indicate that it was available by the glass.

Matters only got stranger, as half-an-hour (and our appetizers) came and went, but no wine appeared. When it finally came, the server muttered that they had trouble locating my selection in the cellar. By that time we no longer wanted it, so I asked for two glasses; naturally, that wine wasn’t available by the glass, so I substituted an undistinguished pinot noir.

The couple at the next table overheard us, and mentioned that their wine too had not arrived until after the appetizers. We started watching the dining room, and sure enough, at least two other tables had the same experience, with wine delivered after—and in at least one case, long after—the appetizers had been served, consumed, and taken away.

For the usual petits-fours, Riingo had a couple of small oatmeal cookies, which naturally were stale. Perhaps Riingo was once a fine restaurant, but the kitchen and serving staff are have become sloppy, veering on incompetent. I can only hope that Samuelsson will rattle the trees, fire a few people, and get this restaurant back on track.

Riingo (205 E. 45th Street, east of Third Avenue, East Midtown)

Food: mediocre
Service: sloppy
Ambiance: acceptable
Overall: sad

Note: Click here for a more recent visit to Momofuku Ssäm Bar.

On February 27, eGullet’s Steven A. Shaw (handle: “Fat Guy”) launched a discussion thread called, “Where to get the haute-cuisine experience, cheap.” The premise was Shaw’s observation that, these days, you don’t need to go to a “fine dining” restaurant to get haute cuisine.

Another eGullet member (handle: “Nathan”) dubbed this phenomenon the “New Paradigm” (“NP”), and it stuck—at least with Shaw, Nathan, and one other eGullet member who bought into the idea (handle: “Sneakeater”). Shaw would later claim that it was Bouley Upstairs that got him thinking along these lines, although the discussion thread was launched just six days after Frank Bruni’s two-star review of Momofuku Ssäm Bar.

What exactly is the New Paradigm? The very small band of people who believe in its existence chose a most peculiar lodestar — Frank Bruni himself — though Bruni has never acknowledged a “paradigm” in any review except the one that launched it:

[Momofuku Ssäm Bar] has emerged as much, much more than the precocious fast-food restaurant it initially was. By bringing sophisticated, inventive cooking and a few high-end grace notes to a setting that discourages even the slightest sense of ceremony, Ssam Bar answers the desires of a generation of savvy, adventurous diners with little appetite for starchy rituals and stratospheric prices.

They want great food, but they want it to feel more accessible, less effete. They’ll gladly take some style along with it, but not if the tax is too punishing. And that’s what they get at Ssam Bar, sleek, softly lighted and decidedly unfussy. Most of its roughly 55 seats are at a gleaming dark wood counter that runs the length of the narrow room, though these seats afford more elbow room than exists at the much smaller Noodle Bar.

Many of the remaining seats are at communal tables, and reservations aren’t taken…

There’s a good deal in Bruni’s description that’s patently offensive. Who’s to say that people who want to make a reservation and sit at a table are “effete”? Who’s to say that those who are “savvy” about fine food have “little appetite” for rituals that Bruni finds “starchy”? Bruni’s error, of course, is that he projects his own prejudice onto everyone else. He doesn’t like these things, so he just assumes nobody does—at least, nobody that knows what they’re talking about.

eGullet’s Nathan, who apparently counts mind-reading among his many skills, says that the purported phenomenon “especially appeals to a youthful but knowledgeable demographic.” We can readily believe that Nathan knows at sight who is youthful—although the clientele at Meatpacking District bars, and for that matter the McDonald’s across the street from Stuyvesant High School—seems pretty youthful too. How he discerns that the clientele are knowledgeable is beyond my comprehension. It’s Bruni’s error all over again: he counts himself as knowledgeable, and simply assumes that those dining where he does must be as smart as he is.

Shaw, perhaps realizing that restaurant critics shouldn’t be mind-readers, calls the alleged phenomenon, simply, “haute cheap.” Shaw mined an article (and a paycheck) out of his invention, with an article in the March 19 issue of Crain’s New York Business. He chose five restaurants to illustrate the concept: Momofuku Ssäm Bar, Bouley Upstairs, Degustation, Room4Dessert, and the Bar Room at the Modern.

I’ve dined at all five. Their points in common are not at all new, and can easily be attributed to other explanations. For many years, fine-dining restaurants have been offering casual dining at the bar to walk-in patrons. In a number of places, the “casual front room” takes on the identity of a separate restaurant, though clearly still affiliated with the “mother ship.” Bouley Upstairs and the Bar Room are two of the many examples of this. I love Room4Dessert, but it fails the first test: it may be haute, but it ain’t cheap—bearing in mind that it only serves dessert.

Degustation’s similarity to the others is only skin-deep. Patrons there sit at a bar (as they do at Ssäm Bar and Room4Dessert), and the menu there is “tapas-style” (hardly a novelty these days), but in most other respects it is fairly conventional. Even Shaw had his doubts about it: “Whether Degustation fits the pattern is an open question. I think the food, while quite good, is weaker and less haute than what’s available at Momo-Ssam, Upstairs and certainly the Bar Room at the Modern. Visiting Degustation between Momo-Ssam and Upstairs really emphasized that it’s operating at a lower level…”

Because the New Paradigm is such a tenuous concept, its three advocates have continually struggled to redefine it. Skeptics point out the many holes in their theory, and it morphs into something else. For instance, a no-reservations policy was allegedly a keynote of the paradigm, but three of Shaw’s five examples take reservations. Another canard was “no dress code whatsoever,” but in an age when only about 10 restaurants in town still have a dress code, that hardly narrows it down.

Menu

I paid another visit to Momofuku Ssäm Bar on a weeknight a couple of weeks ago (first visit here), to try to get my arms around this alleged paradigm. As I was by myself, I had no trouble getting a seat at around 7:00 p.m. (Couples who had arrived before me were still waiting, since there weren’t two adjacent bar stools available.) I actually had a pretty good seat, facing part of the open kitchen.

I decided to order two dishes at the opposite end of the Ssäm Bar spectrum: something funky, and something totally conventional. I started with the Veal Head Terrine ($13), mainly because I was alone, and my usual dining companions would have been totally grossed out. If you ignore where it came from, there’s nothing gross about the Veal Head Terrine (photo here). Its bark is worse than its bite.

The terrine is served warm, in a roughly 6”×8” portion sliced as thin as tissue paper. Frankly, I think that if it were sliced thicker, but with a smaller surface area, it would pack a heftier flavor punch. At first, I spread it on the toasted bread provided, but the terrine was overwhelmed. I ate the last half of it without the bread. It had a slightly spicy taste, but was not anything special.

Then I ordered the Milk-Fed Four Story Hill Farm Poulard ($26). For the curious, Frank Bruni had a blog post about this recently. It was a follow-up to his review of Resto. (The Gang of Three have not admitted Resto to the New Paradigm club, despite its similarity to the other restaurants mentioned.) Four Story Hill Farm is, of course, an impeccable poultry source, and Chang’s kitchen knew what to do with it. It was nearly as juicy and tender as you could want chicken to be, but nothing special was done with it. It was just chicken on a plate over a bed of warm leaf greens.

Actually, it struck me that if you ordered the chicken at Blue Hill, this is almost certainly what you’d get. I never had the chicken there, but I’ve dined at Blue Hill often enough to know the style. It would be the same quality of ingredients, and the same style of preparation. They do indeed offer a similar dish on their menu, and according to the website, it’s $30.

This anecdote helps to debunk the idea that Momofuku Ssäm Bar is “haute cheap.” For what is almost certainly the nearly-identical entrée, Blue Hill charges only $4 more. When you consider that dinner at Blue Hill has all of the traditional restaurant amenities, while Ssäm Bar has almost none of them, you could even argue that Ssäm Bar is over-priced. I can’t make any direct comparison of the Veal Head Terrine, because Blue Hill doesn’t serve anything like that. However, Blue Hill’s appetizers are in the $10-16 range, and the terrine was $13.

(I am prepared for the David Chang Army to advise that Chicken isn’t what Ssäm Bar is about. Too bad. They serve it; I ordered it. It was an experiment to see what Chang does with something conventional. It was pretty good chicken, but something I’m sure dozens of other restaurants are offering. Perhaps this section of the menu is meant to be “Ssäm Bar for Wimps,” but it wasn’t labeled that way.)

Before tax and tip, the total cost of my meal was $55, including two glasses of the house sake at $8 each. Obviously if you think Ssäm Bar is serving four-star food (which it isn’t), you could call it “cheap” in a sense. But objectively $55 isn’t a cheap meal, and of course Ssäm Bar isn’t serving four-star food anyway. It’s pretty close to what you’d pay for dinner at Blue Hill, but a whole lot less pleasant. It turns out that “haute cheap” isn’t really that cheap.

Beverage and Wine List

The wine list has improved since my last visit to Momofuku Ssäm Bar, and there seemed to more serving staff behind the counter. Both of my selections were delivered without silverware. Neither one could reasonably have been eaten with chopsticks (though those weren’t offered either). However, my requests for a knife and fork were quickly granted. The sound system played music at a noise level I found annoying.

You might have wondered whether the New York Times review affected business. The server I asked said it had. He said people come in “all the time” and mention the NYT review. As far as I could monitor, most of the orders coming out of the kitchen seemed to be pretty conventional stuff. I did see one additional order of the Veal Head Terrine. In that case, I happened to overhear the server steering a couple towards that choice. It appeared that only the guy could stomach it.

David Chang does some very good cooking, although you have to be willing to put up with a setting that is far from ideal, and verges to the unpleasant. In terms of comfort, it is probably the least appealing of the purported “New Paradigm” restaurants, and the quality of the food doesn’t quite overcome its many disadvantages.

Eating out, like most other things we do, has gotten progressively less formal since about the 1960s. There’s really nothing new about that, and it’s astonishing that a seasoned critic like Steven Shaw thinks so. One expects that from an arriviste like Frank Bruni, but not from Shaw. Momofuku Ssäm Bar, in its radical rejection of amenities we have come to expect in a restaurant, could be called a Paradigm of One. It really has no competitors. And frankly, I’m not aching for more of its kind. I’d rather pay the extra $4 for a table and a reservation.

Momofuku Ssäm Bar (207 Second Avenue at 13th Street, East Village)

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

A little over three years ago, Spice Market’s arrival signaled a milestone for the Meatpacking District. For the first time, a serious restauranteur (Jean-Georges Vongerichten) was staking claim to an area that used to be a wholesale meat market and prostitution haunt.

Indeed, in a much-ridiculed three-star review, Amanda Hesser of the Times advised Vongerichten to pump ginger aroma into the street, to overcome “the stench of blood and offal from the surrounding meatpacking district.” She added, “It’s hardly an olfactory amuse-bouche.”

Nowadays, your tender nostrils needn’t worry about the stench of blood: the original meatpackers are long gone, and the area is now a maze of clubs and mostly second-tier restaurants. Whether it has any restaurants worth your while is open to debate. I am probably in the minority, when I tell you that there are actually a few Meatpacking restaurants I like.

Until yesterday, I’d never been to Spice Market, except for drinks. In the early days, it was one of the city’s toughest tables to book, and I never bothered. However, when a friend suggested it, I was happy to accept the invitation, as it was the only one of Vongerichten’s Manhattan restaurants I’d never been to. Things have settled down a bit, although Spice Market still does brisk business. On a Tuesday night, most tables were taken, and I noted that all of the luxurious private rooms downstairs were fully booked.

The pan-Asian menu is divided into appetizers ($9.00–14.50), salads ($7.50–14.00), soups ($7.50–8.50), seafood entrées ($18–30), meat entrées ($16–36), and noodles/rice ($2.00–14.50). At the bottom comes the ominous warning, “All dishes are served family style.” That means they come out of the kitchen, and onto the middle of the table, when the kitchen is ready to serve them—not necessarily when you’re ready to eat them.

We weren’t sure how much food we needed, and “small plate” restaurants like Spice Market tend to encourage over-ordering. For appetizers, we tried the Black Pepper Shrimp ($14.50), which was nicely balanced in true Vongerichten fashion with sun dried pineapples. Mushroom Egg Rolls ($9.50 for four) with a galangal dipping sauce were also excellent.

We moved on to the Ginger Fried Rice ($7), which came topped with a fried egg, sunny side up, with ginger and garlic. This was so irresistible that we practically inhaled it, and didn’t wait for any of the entrées to arrive. The kitchen also did well by a tangy Cod with Malaysian Chili Sauce ($19), which the waiter divided and served tableside.

Both meat entrées disappointed. Pork Vindaloo ($19) and Red Curried Duck ($19) both tasted like they could have been simmering for a week, with generic sauces that could have come from any curry house on any back street. Amanda Hesser loved both, but they’ve lost whatever appeal they once had.

In the end, we probably ordered one dish more than we needed, but I was glad to be able to sample a broader swath of the menu. Most dishes were spicy, but not particularly so. The server was about right, when he said that the heat of the Pork Vindaloo was “5 on a scale of 1 to 10.”

I had recalled that Thai Jewels were the best of the desserts, and though we were quite full, we had to give it a try. Here we agreed with Amanda Hesser, so I’ll let her tell it:

Tiny bits of sweet water chestnut are glazed with tapioca, dyed candy colors like cherry red and lime green. These jewels are blended with palm seeds and slivers of jackfruit and papaya, then heaped onto a nest of coconut ice. It is fruity, nutty, cold and slushy, a wonderful mess of flavors, not unlike Lucky Charms.

The wine list isn’t long or complex, with reds and whites listed in each of three categories: smooth, bold, spicy. I chose a spicy red wine for $48, and we were quite pleased with it.

Servers were well versed in the menu and gave reasonable ordering advice. The choreography of waiters and runners sometimes got a bit discombobulated. At the table next to us, they managed to spill a whole bottle of water. Nothing so alarming happened to us, but there were minor glitches. Yet, at other times the service was more polished than you’d expect for a restaurant in Spice Market’s price range.

Despite the “family style” menu, the pace was quite reasonable, and we spent around 2½ hours there. I don’t know if we lucked out, or if they actually try to time the courses intelligently. Anyhow, it’s a good thing we were never served more than one dish at a time, as our small two-top wouldn’t have accommodated any more.

What can you say about the Disney-meets-Thailand décor, and serving staff in orange pajamas? You’ll love it or hate it, but it has no peer in Manhattan. I would guess that Jean-Georges Vongerichten spends no more than 15 seconds a month thinking about Spice Market. It runs on reputation. But there’s just enough left that you can see what all the excitement was about.

Spice Market (403 West 13th Street at Ninth Avenue, Meatpacking District)

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

Lower East Side newcomer Koca Lounge has had a rough start. It opened last fall, but initially without a liquor license. It has gone largely unnoticed by the critics, but the two who’ve reviewed it—Paul Adams in The Sun and Evan Mantyk in The Epoch Times—have been pleased.

The name is also not in its favor. “Koca” comes from a Thai word for a boiling hot pot that you use to cook your own food. The Japanese version of it, shabu shabu, is considerably more familiar. But to Westerners, “Koca” suggests coffee or cocaine, neither of which is the image the owners want. The restaurant started with an even stranger name, “Outlet Koca Lounge,” which was simply bizarre. “Outlet” has now been wisely dropped.

With that out of the way, we come to the food at Koca Lounge, which is not only wonderful, but also surprisingly inexpensive. The menu is in numerous categories, with “snacks” ($2–12), noodle dishes ($9–13), stir fry ($8–9), “plates” ($11–14), hot pots (four choices, $17), meat and seafood for the hot pots ($7–11), sweets ($6), and chocolate hot pots ($11).

The category called “snacks” is roughly equivalent to appetizers. Thai Meatballs with Peanut Sauce ($7) came with two skewers of four deep-fried meatballs apiece, along with a peanut sauce for dipping. Cumin Grilled Baby Lamb Chops with Japanese Pepper & Cucumber Yogurt Sauce ($12) came with three pepper-crusted lamb chops and a wonderful dipping sauce.

We saw the same dishes coming out of the kitchen over and over again, so obviously the other tables were as drawn to these choices as we were. Both were terrific, and the lamb must be one of the better bargains in town. Where else do you get three lamb chops for $12?

Four hot pots are offered, named for the seasons. Each one comes with a bountiful plate of bok choy, enoki mushrooms, cauliflower, corn, seasonal greens, taro, egg dumplings and fish cakes. The server suggested that one additional meat selection would be ample, and indeed it was. We chose the prime ribeye ($8), along with the Winter hot pot, a heavy beef broth with Szechuan spices.

Obviously this wasn’t traditional shabu shabu (they don’t serve Szechuan spices in Japan), but it had all the usual trappings. The hot pot was brought to a boil, then we added the vegetables, since they take a short while to cook. The ribeye was sliced paper-thin, and each piece cooked through in about 15–20 seconds. I thought the meatnwas sliced a little too thin, as some of the pieces fell apart inside the pot.

After you’re done eating, the remaining broth makes an appealing soup. This is the part I most look forward to, but there wasn’t as much left as I would have liked. On past occasions, I recall the pot starting more full. At one restaurant, I remember the server coming by mid-meal and adding more broth, but that wasn’t done here.

At some shabu shabu houses, the cooking apparatus is built right into the tables. At Koca Lounge, each table has a built-in induction burner, which heats the pot without getting hot itself. Even the seats at the bar have the burners, so it is pretty clear that the restaurant considers the hot pots its main attraction. The tables are a bit small: ours just barely accommodated the hot pot, two plates of ingredients, our own plates, glasses, and a wine bottle.

The décor is typical Lower East Side post-industrial chic. There’s also an outdoor garden (sans induction burners). There’s a sound track of pop favorites that doesn’t add much to the atmosphere, but at least isn’t loud or obnoxious. The restaurant doesn’t take reservations, but on Friday night it hardly mattered: not a soul was there when we arrived (around 7:30 p.m.), and by the time we left only about six tables were occupied, plus another two outside.

To go with our meal, we ordered a Rioja, which at $27 was the most expensive red wine on the menu. (There are also a number of sakes available.) The total bill before tip came to about $76 including tax, making Koca Lounge one of the better bargains we’ve experienced in a long time.

Koca Lounge (76 Orchard St. between Broome St. and Grand St., Lower East Side)

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

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Momofuku Ssäm Bar.

Is it possible to be hotter than Momofuku Ssäm Bar? Well, I suppose you could be The Waverley Inn. Aside from that, Momofuku Ssäm Bar is about as hot as it gets, with practically monthly mentions in New York magazine, the Times, and elsewhere.

The restaurant, an offshoot of the successful Momofuku Noodle Bar, also in the East Village, is named for ssäm—basically a Korean burrito. The chef, David Chang, can be commended for his guts in choosing a name that sounds like moth-er fuck-you, although it means “Lucky Peach.” He can also be commended for having one hell of a publicist.

The concept has changed almost monthly since Momofuku Ssäm Bar opened last summer. At first, it was just a lunch burrito bar. When Dana Bowen reviewed it in the Times, late-night dinner service had only just started, and then, only after 10:30 p.m. The starting time for dinner kept moving earlier, and now it is served at the times normal people eat. Like 7:30, which is when my friend and I showed up yesterday, when there was about a 5-10 minute wait for seats at the bar.

The menu is in a bunch of categories; you are encourated to order tapas-style, and share. The server recommended that we choose six items, and as usually the case with such recommendations, it was probably one too many.

Seasonal Pickles ($9) had a lively taste, with the ones pictured on the left packing quite a bit of heat.

Wellfleet Oysters ($15 for half-a-dozen) were cool and fresh.

Three contrasting hams are offered on the menu. We had the Edwards’ Wigwam Smoked Ham ($10) from Surrey, Virginia. This was fresh and light to the taste, but we needed more than the two slices of bread that came with it.

The restaurant claims that they serve “no vegetarian-friendly items.” This isn’t strictly true, as Brussels Sprouts ($11) and a number of other dishes (like the pickles) demonstrate. Of course, perhaps there’s more to this dish than meats the eye. It was so crisp and smokey that it could almost have been bacon. [See update below.]

Finally we got to one of the dishes Momofuku Ssäm Bar is named for: Hanger Steak Ssäm ($19). To eat, you place a piece of steak on a leaf of lettuce, add rice and sauce, and wrap the whole thing up like a soft taco. It’s a little unwieldy, but a pleasure.

I was full by this point, and barely tasted Seafood Stew ($29). My friend loved it though, calling it a spicy bouillabaisse. A pair of small-tined forks would have been helpful, for prying the meat out of the mussels.

There is much more to explore at Momofuku Ssäm Bar. If you can muster a crowd, consider ordering the whole pork butt ($180), which is slow-braised all day. We saw one at an adjoining table, and our mouths were watering. The party of seven couldn’t finish it.

Although it is crowded and loud, service is friendly and fun. The servers are well informed about the menu, and patient about explaining it. The kitchen doesn’t really know how to pace the food. Like most tapas-style restaurants, plates come out when the kitchen is ready, not when you want them. Our first four courses appeared rather quickly, but there was a noticeably long wait for the fifth and sixth. In the meantime, we enjoyed a bottle of sparkling shiraz ($35), an oddity I don’t remember seeing anywhere else.

Momofuku Ssäm Bar (207 2nd Avenue at 13th Street, East Village)

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

Update #1: My statement about the restaurant’s purported absence of vegetarian choices sparked a few comments. Yes, I am aware that a vegetable dish may have come into contact with an animal-based product during its preparation. Similar items appear on menus all over town. Unless the restaurant has told you so (and most don’t), one can never assume a complete absence of animal derivatives. I therefore thought that the unusual comment on Momofuku’s menu was worthy of a mention.

“Vegetarian” is an umbrella term that covers many different approaches to eating. (See Wikipedia.) Many people who call themselves vegetarians would eat a number of items on Momofuku’s menu. The strictest vegetarians might not, but they would probably find themselves frustrated at many restaurants in New York. I have no reason to think that Momofuku is in a category by itself.

One commenter seemed to think that this was “Bad, incomplete reporting” on my part. I am not writing Consumer Reports, just a journal of my impressions of restaurants I’ve visited. I don’t claim to be exhaustive, as I think would be obvious to just about anyone. And I cannot imagine that any strict vegetarian would be depending on me (a confirmed carnivore) as her source for restaurant recommendations.

Update #2: After posting this entry, one commenter wondered how my 1½-star rating could be reconciled with my apparent enthusiasm for the restaurant. I’ve responded to that in a separate post. After thinking about it, I did update the food rating from 1½ stars to two, but the overall rating remains at 1½ stars.

The communal table at Asia de CubaA friend of mine adores Asia de Cuba, Jeffrey Chodorow’s fusion restaurant where pan-Asian meets pan-Latin. When she asked where I’d like to be taken for my birthday, I thought it was the perfect choice — a restaurant she loves, and one I’d never been to.

Since it opened in 1997, Asia de Cuba has been the ultimate “scene” restaurant. Unlike many such places, the buzz hasn’t died out. Almost a decade later, the young and the gorgeous haven’t stopped flocking there. Philippe Starck’s luminous double-decker interior still turns heads. Downstairs, a communal table the length of a football field dominates the dining room. Upstairs, the comfortable bar area and additional dining tables overlook the room below.

Reviewing for the Times in 1997, Ruth Reichl wasn’t impressed. She began, “You won’t eat well at Asia de Cuba.” There wasn’t much that she liked, but she proceeded to award a star anyway—surely the best evidence of the star-inflation for which she was known:

I’m not impressed with the ropa vieja of duck, either. One of those thoroughly cross-cultural inventions, this is a variation on the classic Latin beef stew (called ropa vieja because the meat shreds like old clothes) served like Chinese minced squab in lettuce leaves. The idea is to spread the lettuce with hoisin sauce, add a few pea shoots, some thinly sliced snow peas and calabaza squash, spoon some stew on top, wrap it all up and eat it with your fingers. Nice idea, but it doesn’t taste very good.

I’m glad I didn’t read Reichl’s review before we went, as we ordered that very dish ($19.50), and it was a hit. They’ve changed the vegetable accompaniments since Reichl had it, but the idea is still the same. The server brought the duck to our table still on the bone, then shredded it and left us to wrap it into delicious pancakes with the accompanying lettuce.

Miso cured black cod ($33) comes with a black bean and edamame salad. It’s competently done, but these days every Asian-themed restaurant has a version of that dish, and the one here didn’t erase memories of the better renditions of it. My friend recommended a couple of side dishes: Plantain fried rice with avocado salad ($9.50) and Lobster boniato mash ($13.50), which both lived up to her enthusiastic endorsements.

Ruth Reichl and I do agree that the coconut cake is excellent. The restaurant served it with a candle and “Happy Birthday Marc” written in chcolate syrup on the plate. Like everything else, it was a huge piece, which even two people sharing could not finish.

The restaurant has some wonderful specialty cocktails. I loved the Coconut Cloud Martini ($12), made with coconut rum and Stoli vanilla, topped with coconut shavings. We also had the Mojito ($12), for which my friend says Asia de Cuba is deservedly famous.

Like many restaurants in the genre, Asia de Cuba serves the food family style. One appetizer, one entree, and a couple of side dishes are more than enough for two people (indeed, my friend took home leftovers). The ample portions somewhat make up for the stratospheric prices: appetizers are $19–26, entrees $23–59 (most over $30), side dishes $9–$13.50. I would prefer smaller portions and prices, which would allow a party of two to sample more of the menu without spending a fortune.

If Asia de Cuba’s food is no longer unique, it is certainly plenty of fun. Ruth Reichl’s 1997 review didn’t offer much promise, but in fact kitchen is doing a very respectable job. And if you can’t make it to New York, there are Asia de Cuba outposts in London, Los Angeles, and San Francisco.

Asia de Cuba (237 Madison Avenue between 37th & 38th Streets, Murray Hill)

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