Limani

Until 2004, I was not familiar with Greek seafood restaurants that hawk fish by the pound, until the Post’s Steve Cuozzo called them out for the practice—with characterisic bile. Soon after, I fell in love with Thalassa, despite an admittedly confusing price structure that was exactly what Cuozzo had complained about.

Alas, the broader public didn’t share my admiration for Thalassa. A few years later, during the Great Recession, they switched to fixed-price entrées, and haven’t gone back. Other restaurants of its ilk have been more successful, including Estiatoria Milos in Midtown, which has survived good times and bad, despite final bill that is as punishing as it is unpredictable.

Limani, a newcomer in this genre, sailed into town last November. The staff are pros at this, as there’s a sister Limani in Roslyn, NY, and much of the senior staff has worked for the Milos chain at some point.

They’ve certainly nailed the atmosphere: 8,000 square feet of Aegean fantasy, with white seats, white marble tile, sheer curtains, and a reflecting pool that changes its hue on a cycle from blue to violet, and back again.

The booths look luxurious, but on both my visits we were seated at a cramped two-top near the open kitchen. And then you realize, for a luxury restaurant, it certainly is loud in here.

 

I haven’t been to Milos, but the service style at Limani corresponds to everything I’ve read about it, as well as how it used to be at Thalassa before they switched out the menu. Before you order, your server escorts you to the fresh fish station, where the day’s catch is arrayed on ice—most of it imported from the Mediterranean. Prices are posted, generally by the pound, leaving you guessing as to how much that pretty red snapper will set you back. Only after you’ve chosen a specimen is it put on the scale, and the damage assessed.

There are standard appetizers and salads, with prices printed on the menu, although not shown online. My recollection, though, was that the non-fish items were fairly priced, for a midtown luxury restaurant. There are a handful of meat entrées, but if you order any of these, you’re missing the entire point of the restaurant.

Anyhow, with ordering out of the way, you’ll get a basket of warm bread and a bowl of olive oil for dipping (above right).

 

On both visits, we knew a large whole fish was coming, so we didn’t order large appetizers. An order of Gigantes (large baked beans; $12; above left) was mediocre. A Romaine salad ($15; not pictured) was okay. On the whole, it’s better to stick with a seafood starter. Scallops on the half-shell ($12; above right) were terrific.

 

Whichever whole fish you’ve chosen, it’ll be brought to the table and portioned while you watch. On my two visits, we tried the Fagri ($86.86; above left) and the Red Snapper ($90.82; above right). Both were sufficient for ample helpings of fish for two. As you can see from the photos, there’s not much difference in the preparation style from one to another. But the kitchen does a lovely job—as they should when whole fish are the entire premise of the restaurant.

You pay handsomely for the privilege. The prices aren’t insane, given the provenance of the ingredients, but you could spend less elsewhere. On the other hand, according to Pete Wells’s recent review in the Times, you’ll pay a lot more at Milos for the identical species. As the fish are served à la carte, you’ll probably want a side dish or two. Like the rest of the menu, they’re a bit pricey at $12 each, but as I recall, both that we tried (asparagus; cauliflower & broccoli) were exemplary.

The online wine list, like the food menu, is without prices, a really deplorable state of affairs. It skews mostly white, as you’d expect, with a handful of Greek bottles and many more from other regions. As I look back on my receipts, it seems I chose the identical item both times (a Domaine Bizet Sancerre), as I found the rest of the list too expensive.

I was surprised that Wells bothered to review Limani. He gave it just one star (for him, that’s a pan), and it didn’t really cry out for a review: most of his competitors ignored it, as they generally do with expensive Midtown restaurants that break no new culinary ground. As Frank Bruni once pointed out, there is little reason for a review that simultaneously calls attention to a place you otherwise wouldn’t have heard of, and then tells you to avoid it.

I would make a case for Limani. It’s not perfect: the room is too loud (for my taste), and the non-fish options aren’t strong enough, in relation to the expense. The online menu and wine list ought to include prices: for what they’re charging, they can afford that. But the imported fresh fish are Limani’s core competency; this, it executes beautifully. If you’re looking for a fancier night out, and can afford the prices, you’ll probably go home happy.

Limani (45 Rockefeller Plaza, 51st Street between Fifth & Sixth Avenues)

Food: Greek seafood, most of it served by the pound
Service: Very good, as it should be at these prices
Ambiance: A luxurious blue-and-white Aegean atmosphere; a bit too loud

Rating: ★★

The Clam

 

When Gabe Stulman and Joey Campanaro opened The Little Owl in 2006, they surely never imagined the multitude of restaurants such an unassuming little place would beget.

Anywhere in the Village, you’re never more than about five minutes away from one or another of their properties, all somewhat resembling each other in their commitment to straightforward, rustic, gut-busting cuisine, served in casual, comfortable dining rooms that appeal to a neighborhood crowd.

They’re actually not partners anymore. The pair split up in 2008, with Stulman starting up his “Little Wisco” empire, Campanaro retaining The Little Owl and their second restaurant together, Market Table. But you’d hardly know they ever disagreed, given the similarity of the restaurants they now operate separately.

Stulman is up to six restaurants. Campanaro has been slower to expand, opening The Clam, his third, earlier this year with his Market Table partner, chef Mikey Price. You’ll get no prizes for guessing the concept: it’s a seafooder, with the menu relying heavily on a certain bivalve mollusc.

They’ve got a terrific location, a spacious corner lot with broad, picture windows and the de rigeur exposed brick that no downtown restaurant can do without. Yet, there are white tablecloths, previously thought to be the kiss of death at a neighborhood spot, and—shock!—no one seems to mind. The restaurant has been solidly booked at prime times. It took me almost eleven months to get a reservation.

No matter what, you’re probably going to be eating seafood here. A couple of the entrées are sops to landlubbers (a half Bell & Evans chicken; a braised shortrib), but to choose these is to miss the entire point of the restaurant. Whatever you order, you’ll start with one of the terrific warm parkerhouse rolls (above right).

The menu is in five confusing sections: “iced delicacies” (what most people call a raw bar), appetizers ($13–19), entrées ($25–31), side dishes (“eight dollars each”), and then the perplexing part: “house specialties” ($13–24), not clearly delineated as starters or mains, linked only by the fact that they’re all made with clams.

Click to read more ...

Barchetta

These days, the usual career path of successful chefs is to open a second restaurant, and then a third; in fact, to keep going until the public says “Enough already!” And sometimes even past that. See the dictionary entry under “English, Todd”.

Not so, David Pasternack. Despite the accolades rained upon his Hell’s Kitchen Italian seafood restaurant Esca, the chef has been surprisingy slow-footed about growing his personal brand. Aside from the short-lived Bistro du Vent (2005–06), Pasternack has resisted expansion in New York. (I don’t know for sure, but you’d have to think there’ve been offers before now.)

Pasternack finally got the proverbial offer he couldn’t refuse, partnering with LDV Hospitality (Scarpetta, American Cut) to open Barchetta (“little boat”) in the space that was last home to Alain Allegretti’s La Promenade des Anglais. This site has had trouble holding onto restaurants. Located in West Chelsea, close to Tenth Avenue, it is not convenient to mass transit. It needs to make a passionate case for our attention.

The immediate impression is that this is a cheaper and more casual version of Esca: an Esca without tablecloths. At the flagship, you won’t find an entrée for less than $30; here, they hover mostly in the $20s. Servings of crudo, the Italianesque sashimi that Pasternack introduced to New York, are similar to those served at Esca, but a couple of dollars less. You can order spaghetti with lobster at Esca for $30, or fettucine with lobster at Barchetta for $28.

Click to read more ...

Maison Premiere

 

Maison Premiere, which opened in 2011, is a wonderful cocktails-and-shellfish bar in Williamsburg, cleverly designed—like so much in the borough—to look a lot older than it really is.

Of course, like so many Williamsburg storefronts, it’s repurposed from earlier, grittier times. You’re never quite sure what was always there, and what was brought in merely to look distressed.

The exterior is barely labeled and unassuming, like a lot cocktail spots these days. Even knowing the address and cross-street, I walked right by it, at first.

Then you walk in and see this gorgeous old-fashioned marble-topped bar with antique taps, backed by ceiling-height shelves stocked with spirits.

The theme is New Orleans, with almost 30 kinds of absinthe and a variety of cocktails featuring it. You don’t like absinthe? There’s an impressive array of bourbons, rums, whiskies, grappa, bitters, fortified wines, juleps, and so forth. Cocktails are skillfully done, running $9–13, generally a few dollars less than comparable fare in Manhattan. There’s a handful of wines, which are beside the point.

The food menu consists almost entirely of chilled shellfish, including 33 species of oysters—the most I recall anywhere in the city. There’s also chilled clams, crabs, lobster, an arctic char ceviche, and two kinds of gumbo. Seafood platters are $35, $80, or $140. We had the smallest of these to go with our cocktails: a half-lobster, shrimp, clams, and two kinds of oysters.

The place is so nice that you wish there were hot entrées to complement all of that shellfish, but in the niche they’ve chosen to occupy, the variety is remarkable. There’s no question it’s a hit with the neighborhood. Even at 5:00pm on a Sunday, it was about half full. I imagine that it gets swamped later on. In addition to the bar, there are tables in the back, and an outdoor garden in good weather.

Maison Premiere might be one of those rare bars that is worth a trip in its own right. It’s certainly worthwhile for a stop before dinner (as it was for us) or to relax after it.

Maison Premiere (298 Bedford Ave. between South First & Grand St., Williamsburg)

Food: Cold shellfish exclusively, but an impressive variety
Spirits: A broad range of domestic absinthes, rums, and whiskies
Service: Courteous, but a bit slow
Ambiance: A page out of old New Orleans

Rating: ★★
Why? For the wide variety of oysters and the absinthe-based cocktails 

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: ★★

Esca

I read the occasional bad reviews of Esca from sources I trust, but never enough to persuade me that the restaurant had lost a step since my last visit, four years ago, when I gave it three stars.

The proffer hasn’t really changed: it’s an Italian seafood restaurant from the Batali–Bastianich empire, it remains insanely popular, and I haven’t been served a bad dish yet.

Many of the Batali–Bastianich restaurants take the attitude that you should tolerate the horrible service they mete out, and just consider yourself lucky that you’re fortunate enough to be in their orbit. It has happened often enough to persuade me that it’s not an accident.

I saw none of that at Esca, where the service was so pleasant and solicitous that you’d almost think Danny Meyer had taken it over. The staff even seated me before my girlfried had arrived—practically unheard of at a Batali restaurant.

Prices have risen only modestly in the four years since my last visit. It looks like every course is about two dollars more, bringing the cost of a four-course meal to around $90 before wine, tax, and tip—about comparable to most of the other New York Times three-star restaurants. But it’s also a menu that’s built for grazing, and you can have an extremely satisfying meal for a lot less than that.

The amuse bouche, chickpea crostini (above left), seems to be unchanged from my last visit. It’s the least satisfying part of the meal.

To start, my girlfriend had the Polipo, or grilled octopus ($17; above left). It’s an Esca specialty, and the kitchen nailed it. After all these years, it is still hard to find crudo better than Esca’s: Bonita, a fish from the tuna family, was served raw ($18; above right), spackled with crushed almonds and resting in a drizzle of olive oil.

The pasta section of the menu offers just six choices, and four of them are made with chilis or hot peppers, which rather limits the options of a diner who prefers to avoid hot food, as my girlfriend did. Fortunately, the Maccheroni alla Chittara ($25; above left) is a winner. The word chittara refers to a pasta-cutting machine that resembles a harp. Most references spell it “chitarra,” but the team at Esca prefer one ‘t’ and two ‘r’s. Here, it’s served in a subtle, exquisitely balanced sea urchin and crab meat sauce.

I ordered an old favorite, the Spaghetti Neri ($24; above right), a squid ink pasta with cuttlefish, green chilis and scallion, which is as good as it was last time. Esca ought to offer more pastas, as the kitchen has obviously mastered them.

The wine lists are strong at all of the Bastianich restaurants, but at Esca it’s not the epic-length tome as at some of its sister restaurants. Vinosia’s Fiama di Avelino (above left) seemed slightly over-priced at $51, but it paired well with the food.

The restaurant is split into several dining rooms, bustling but not overly loud. The space is functional, but it does not have much charm. The food remains the main attraction.

Esca (402 W. 43rd Street at Ninth Avenue, Hell’s Kitchen)

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

City Island Lobster House

Until last weekend, City Island was an abstraction to me—a place I’d heard of but never given two seconds’ thought.

For the geographically-challenged (like me): City Island is a tiny island off the east coast of the Bronx, connected by a century-old bridge to the mainland. About 4/10ths of a square mile in area, it has under 5,000 residents.

The island’s main industries seem to be boat storage and seafood restaurants. There are dozens of restaurants along the island’s main drag (City Island Avenue), many of which seem to be interchangeable. They all look just a bit downscale and touristy, and it is hard to imagine how so many of them stay in business all year.

My friend had heard vaguely good things about City Island Lobster House, located on a side street just off the bridge, so we tried that. It looks like one of those generic seafood shacks that one expects to see every quarter-mile in New England shore towns. The website is as cheesy as the restaurant is.

The huge laminated menu takes a while to absorb, but there wasn’t much doubt we were having lobsters. To go to a “Lobster House” and order anything else would be silly.

The meal comes with a bounteous bread plate (above left) with terrific garlic bread, warm blueberry bread, and a bowl of olives and cheese. Caesar salad (above right) was totally forgettable; I assume they make them up well in advance, and pull them out of the fridge as needed.

The lobster was wonderful, but it was typical of slightly slapdash service that it was served with the bowl of melted butter tipped over. It took quite a while to get lobster forks, and after our meal the server claimed to be out of wet-naps before returning with them.

You won’t beat these prices in New York City: a 1½-pound lobster with salad and bread was $24.95 apiece. Cocktails are under $10 each. The total for two was under $70 before tax and tip. Is it a great restaurant? No. Do they have lobster nailed? Yes.

City Island Lobster House (691 Bridge Street #1, City Island)

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

Pier 9

Note: This is a review under chef Eric Hara, who is no longer with the restaurant as of May 2012. The restaurant closed in March 2013. The other restaurant mentioned in the review, 9 Restaurant, had closed a while earlier.

*

A month ago, the Post ran an article about the burgeoning Hell’s Kitchen restaurant scene—once desolate, lately an embarrassment of riches.

When you think about formerly downtrodden neighborhoods that became dining destinations, usually it took one major success story that made the area a magnet for the food wonks: Montrachet in Tribeca, 71 Clinton Fresh Food on the Lower East Side, to give but two examples.

Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t yet have that kind of restaurant, as far as I can tell. (I don’t count Esca, which is geographically in Hell’s Kitchen but functionally in the Theater District.) What it has is a passel of new places that make it worth traveling the extra long block or two from Eighth Avenue. Perhaps, from one of these, the breakout hit will come.

Chef Eric Hara owns two of these, the adjacent and recently-opened 9 Restaurant and Pier 9 on Ninth Avenue between 53rd and 54th Streets. Hara has bounced around a bit, but his solid background includes three years as executive chef at David Burke Townhouse and a shorter stint at Burke’s Fishtail.

A move to the Oak Room at the Plaza was ill-advised, but it’s surely not Hara’s fault that the owners took the space in a more frivolous direction. A couple of brief detours brought him finally to Ninth Avenue, where he is chef and partner in these two similar restaurants.

Both 9 Restaurant and Pier 9 are relatively informal and inexpensive, with brunch menus for the weekend crowd, outdoor cafés in nice weather, and plenty of space at the bar. At a recent opening party, I found Pier 9 more attractive, and its all-seafood menu more compelling. I didn’t think I’d have the time to try both, so I made a reservation at Pier 9.

Full disclosure: I was there at the publicist’s invitation, and although I paid for my meal, I was charged much less than full price. (I show the à la carte prices in parentheses below, where I know them, but we paid a flat $60 per head.)

Jalapeño and jack cheese biscuits with honey butter (above right), served on a warm skillet, were a perfect start to the meal.

Half-a-dozen fresh, briney oysters ($17; above left) were served raw, in the usual style. A Warm Giant Brady Oyster ($8; above right) was dusted with yuzu, scallions, and tempura flakes. I have never seen this on a restaurant menu, and google is silent as to the identity of the species. Such a remarkable specimen, probably eight inches long, must be seen to be believed.

A ceviche tasting ($18; left top) included, from left to right, Shrimp Tacos with tomatilla and cucumber salsa; Big Eye Tuna Tartare with yuzu, radish, and pears; and Scottish Salmon with orange, pickled chilli, and citrus oil. The salmon was the most successful of these, with its unexpected citrus tang, followed by the shrimp tacos. The tuna tartare was a bit flat, as was a Razor Clam Ceviche ($13; left bottom) with Tuscan olive oil, cilantro mint, and Arbequina olives.

We didn’t much care for Crab & Shitake Mushroom Arancini in spicy tartar sauce ($13; above middle), which were on the greasy side. But Lobster “Mac N Cheese” ($12; above right) might be one of the restaurant’s instant hits.

Entrées, as in many seafood restaurants these days, are either composed or “simply prepared.” We were a shade less fond of the composed dishes. Sourdough Crusted Sea Bass ($25; above, far left) with prawn, mussel, and clam in a ciopino broth had too many ingredients in competition with one another. Tuna au Poivre ($28; above, middle) was a tad too salty.

But a Grilled Whole Branzino ($28; above right) with baby bok choy was terrific.

Halibut (above left) came with a choice of three sauces (above right): green curry and shitake mushroom (the best of the group), lemon, tuscan olive oil & capers, and verjus emulsion. It seemed to us that a couple of the sauces were too heavy for the fish, which couldn’t quite stand up to them.

Both desserts we tried will work for you if you’re in a playful mood: a Rice Krispie Candy Bar with mascarpone ice cream (above left) and a Pretzel & Tapioca Pudding Sundae (above right).

There were no unsuccessful dishes per se, but a few were (to our taste) a bit over-salted or over-fried, and in some instances we felt the chef would be better off letting superior ingredients shine without as much interference.

Both restaurants, Pier 9 and 9 Restaurant, were doing a brisk bar and sidewalk café business on a Wednesday evening, but could use some more patronage to fill the large space in back. Pier 9, especially, is an appealing space, done in an urban seaside motif. Nowadays, it’s fun to dine on Ninth Avenue.

Pier 9 (802 Ninth Avenue between 53rd & 54th Streets, Hell’s Kitchen)

Luke's Lobster

The admirable Luke’s Lobster succeeds like many I’ve been visiting lately—by doing one thing well. Or slightly more than one: there’s an admirable assortment of seafood rolls (lobster, crab, shrimp), chowders and bisques, but the centerpiece is the lobster roll, $15.

The eponymous Luke Holden, a native of Cape Elizabeth, Maine, is the company president. Jeff Holden, his father and a co-owner, is a former lobster fisherman who now runs a lobster processing plant. In this restaurant’s version of farm-to-table sourcing, Luke says that the catch comes directly to him without a middleman, and he can tell you precisely which Maine harbor your lobster was harvested from.

The original Luke’s, which opened in the East Village in late 2009, is mainly a take-out business: it has just eight stools. Another, on the Upper West Side, is scarcely larger, with 13 stools. That makes the Upper East Side Luke’s, with 23 stools, downright spacious.The two uptown branches opened in 2010; a fourth, in the Financial District, awaits approval of a beer license, which it should win easily.

I visited the Upper East Side Luke’s at around 10:45 p.m. on a Saturday, shortly before closing time. Even there, a lot of the business is take-out and delivery. A man came in with a take-out order at 10:55, just in time. (Luke’s doesn’t “cheat,” as some restaurants do, and close the kitchen before the nominal closing hour.)

The so-called “Lobster Ale” ($6) is one of the world’s worst beers. But the lobster roll was packed full of tender lobster meat. I can’t imagine better.

If the company can keep doing the important things right, Luke could soon have more lobster shacks than Danny Meyer has Shake Shacks.

Luke’s Lobster (242 E. 81st Street, west of Second Avenue, Upper East Side)

Ditch Plains

Note: Ditch Plains on the Upper West Side closed in September 2014, due to an unaffordable rent increase. Ditch Plains in the West Village remains open.

*

Ditch Plains opened last month on the Upper West Side. The critics will ignore it, because it’s a clone of Ditch Plains in the West Village, which is now five years old. In a way, that’s a shame. It’s not that chef Marc Murphy is doing anything original, but a civilized restaurant from a chef with some ability, where you can dine happily on $20 entrées, deserves a shout-out.

Murphy is obviously not a risk-taker, in more ways than one. Rather than try his hand at something new, he replicated a concept that was already successful downtown. That was the formula too, when he cloned his Tribeca hit Landmarc at the Time-Warner Center. The menus at these restaurants don’t change very often, and they hew mainly to readily recognized comfort-food classics that don’t challenge the diner.

Murphy obviously has talent, and you have to wonder what he could do, if he ventured outside of his comfort zone. Instead, he makes news by winning the judges’ vote at the South Beach Burger Bash. Mind you, even winning a burger contest requires ability. It’s obviously not a fluke, as Peter Meehan of the Times loved the burger too, in an otherwise lukewarm review of the original Ditch Plains. (The restaurant got a more favorable reception from the Underground Gourmet in New York.)

The obscure name refers to a beach in Montauk. Despite the burger and a few other sops to landlubbers, Ditch Plains is supposed to evoke a seafood shack, albeit a pretty large one with 165 seats. The most expensive entrées are a lobster roll ($26) and a marinated skirt steak ($24); all of the others are $22 or less.

My friend, who was not aware of the West Village branch, thought that the menu was designed to appeal to children—hence, mac and cheese, hot dogs, wings, chili, and so forth. I think it’s just a coincidence, but the restaurant is perfect for the stereotype Upper West Side stroller-toting couple. Indeed, you’ll probably be sharing the dining room with young families, which is either a selling point or a drawback, depending on your perspective.

It’s also close enough for a casual, inexpensive meal before the opera: less costly and less crowded than the Lincoln Center restaurants. Reservations aren’t taken for parties smaller than six, but we had no trouble walking in on a Friday evening. When we left, at around 7:15 p.m., the dining room was about half full.

The kitchen turned out a very good bowl of mussels and fries ($20) and a perfectly respectable grilled fish (red snapper, I believe; $20). An appetizer of spicy pork meatballs ($13) was the highlight, an ample portion slathered in fontina cheese and tomato sauce, with grilled sourdough bread.

In common with Murphy’s other restaurants, the wine list features an abundance of half bottles, an innovation at the time that others have copied (Bar Henry, Ciano), albeit not widely. That might be the most original thing Murphy has done.

Ditch Plains (100 W. 82nd Street at Columbus Avenue, Upper West Side)

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