La Fonda del Sol

Note: This is a review under chef Josh DeChellis, who left the restaurant in May 2011. The new chef is Christopher DeLuna.

*

La Fonda del Sol was one of the iconic NYC destination restaurants of the 1960s, often mentioned in the same breath as The Four Seasons (which is still around) and Forum of the Twelve Caesars (which isn’t). The restaurant closed in the early 1970s. Fans still mourn the loss of Alexander Girard’s striking design (see this fansite).

Now Patina Restaurant Group, which owns the rights (inherited from the old Restaurant Associates) wants to re-capture the magic. A new Fonda del Sol opened six weeks ago in the Met Life Building. Except for the name, it has little to do with its predecessor. Adam Tihany’s design could be just as opulent as Girard’s, but it’s his own, not a re-do. The menu, under Josh DeChellis, is Spanish, rather than Latin American.

The new Fonda was conceived before the recession. It is one of the most luxurious openings we’ve seen in quite a while. The large bi-level space offers a casual tapas restaurant facing Vanderbilt Avenue and an elegant formal dining room. The tapas space was totally empty on Saturday evening, except for a couple of people drinking at the bar. The location doesn’t lend itself to weekend walk-ins, but the staff claim they’ve been doing well on weekdays, with Grand Central just a half-step away. The dining room looked to be about 80% full at 9:00 p.m.

Reviewers will obsess over the clash between the luxurious space and the tanking economy. Gael Greene is the only active critic who dined at the old Fonda, and she’s smitten once again. In the Daily News, Restaurant Girl awarded four out of five stars. Those are the kinds of reviews La Fonda del Sol will need, as it is on the expensive side and could have trouble attracting a crowd without good word of mouth.

We liked nearly everything we had. The amuse-bouche (top left) was a thin slice of cured ham with a daikon radish. We then tried three tapas: the Potted Duckling and Pork ($11; above right), Tuna Tacos ($9.50; below left) and Veal Terrine Croquettas ($9; below right).

The potted duckling, resembling a pâté, was luxuriously rich; the tuna tacos with avocado and jalapeño pickled onion packed a flavor punch. The croquettas, however, were rather forgettable.

Suckling Pig ($28) was a masterpiece, with a constellation of unmentionable pig parts rolled up and covered in pig skin, served with smoked dates, almonds, and charred brussels sprouts.

We loved a side dish of spicy potatoes ($9; right), but a server ought to have told us that the pig already came with brussels sprouts, as we certainly didn’t need a separate side order of it ($7).

The after-dinner petits-fours were as impressive as nearly any restaurant we’ve been to in New York, especially as the entire box was left at our table (many places ask you to choose, then take the box away). We were obviously not going to finish anywhere near all of that, but it was an impressive selection.

The only real disappointment was the bread service. What is the point of offering two different kinds of rolls, when both are rock-hard? Our server was a bit wet behind the ears. When I asked for a wine list, she said, “You mean, by the bottle?” Hmm…what else would it be? The list could use a few more options below $50. I found an acceptable Spanish red at $38, but it didn’t have much company.

With judicious ordering, we managed to keep the bill to $143 before tax and tip. That’s not bad at all for a restaurant as elegant as this one. This is a restaurant we’ll be rooting for.

La Fonda del Sol (200 Park Avenue at 44th Street, Met Life Building, East Midtown)

[Note: Despite the Park Avenue address, the entrance to the restaurant is actually on Vanderbilt Avenue.]

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

Casa Mono

Owning the city’s most popular Italian restaurants wasn’t good enough for Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich. So five years ago, they branched out into Spanish cuisine. Sure enough, they mastered that too.

Pig’s Feet Croquetas with Cranberries ($15)Casa Mono was an instant hit, winning two stars from Marian Burros in the Times and a 25 food rating on Zagat, the highest of any Spanish restaurant in the city. It has taken me a while to get here because the place is always packed at the times I want to eat. Finally, I landed a Friday night 7:00 p.m. reservation.

Our dinner was almost scuppered when my girlfriend got stuck on a train. The hostess wouldn’t seat an incomplete party, and there is no waiting space inside this cramped restaurant: nada. She not-so-gently suggested that I mosey over to Bar Jamón, the wine bar next door, “and we’ll call when your party arrives.” But I’d already spent an hour at Bar Jamón and knew there was no space there either. So I shuffled my feet at the doorway, checking my watch.

Sepia a la Plancha with Salsa Verde ($15)My girlfriend arrived at 7:19 p.m., four minutes too late, according to the hostess. “I can offer you a table until 8:30 or seats at the bar without a time limit.” We took the bar seats, which may be the best way to experience Casa Mono. Watching the open kitchen just a few feet away is a pleasure in itself: it runs like clockwork in an insanely small space. You get to see a much wider variety of the gorgeous plates coming out, and the craftsmanship that goes into them.

Skirt Steak with Onion Mermelada ($16)There are some cuisines that, inexplicably, seem to be found only in casual settings (at least in New York), and Spanish is one of them. Alex Ureña tried to serve three-star food at Ureña, but it never caught on, and he had to dial it down a notch, renaming the place Pamplona. Batali and Bastianich, blessed with a keener sense of the culinary moment, made Casa Mono casual from the beginning, and never looked back.

Fried Cauliflower ($9)The wine list, though, is a serious document. If there were a four-star Spanish restaurant, it could have the same list without changing a thing. You’ll find large-format bottles with four-digit prices, but also real value below $50. There was a slight hiccup when I ordered a 2004 at $45, and the server returned with an ’05, apparently not realizing the difference. Fear not, said the hastily summoned sommelier: the 2005’s are just as good, and according to some connoisseurs, maybe better.

Confit Goat with Saffron Honey ($19)On the all-tapas menu, you’ll pay anywhere from $5–25 a plate, with most in the teens. A selection of six plates plus a shared dessert brought our food tab to $102. You could probably get by with a little less than that, but not by much.

Batali has never worried about challenging the diner. You’ll find pig’s feet, lamb’s tongue, rabbit loin, cock’s combs, bone marrow, sweetbreads, duck hearts, and tripe. But you’ll also find safe choices like mussels, skirt steak, and lamb. Pork Belly Fabada with Horseradish ($19)We saw a lot of skirt steak going onto the griddle, but not one order of tripe. Even Marian Burros declined to try it. A fried cheese made of calves head and feet has been dropped since Burros visited, showing that even offal has its limits.

I’m not going to comment on most of the dishes individually, but they were all terrific, except for over-cooked pork belly. The photos don’t do the food justice, but they were the best I could manage in a low-light setting where flash wasn’t appropriate.

Mono Sundae ($9)

Desserts are sometimes a throwaway at this kind of restaurant, but we adored the Mono Sundae, a plum brandy ice cream with arrope and almonds. We observed other diners in phases of rapture over their desserts, so this is apparently not the only great one.

The food at Casa Mono arguably deserves a better setting. It is cramped and rushed. Although we sat at the bar, even the tables seemed small and tightly packed.

I’m not the type to spend hundreds of dollars on a bottle of wine, but even if I were, this isn’t the place where I’d choose to do it. But for five years diners have either forgiven the setting or perhaps even embraced it. Food this good can make up for many an inconvenience.

Casa Mono (52 Irving Place at E. 17th Street, Union Square/Gramercy)

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

Bar Jamón

Bar Jamón — literally “Ham Bar” — is the front end of the Batali–Bastianich Spanish double-header, the other being the restaurant next door, Casa Mono. The two share a wine list and prep space, and some guides describe them as one restaurant. Even the owners have trouble deciding: some of their literature lists the two places separately, but they share a common website.

Anyhow, it’s a tiny space that holds about 25 people, including those standing at the bar, where there are no stools. There are light tapas, generally in the $7–11 range, along with the crazily expensive Spanish hams that give the place its name. These set you back $15 or $30 a portion.

The star is the 24-page all-Spanish wine list, probably the best of its kind in New York. It’s hard for me to believe that anyone would plunk down $1,950 for a magnum of 1989 Vega Sicilia and then drink it on bar stools. But if you want it, Bar Jamón has got it. Even for more modest budgets, Bar Jamón has plenty to choose from, with bottles as low as $30.

Like all of the Mario Batali–Joe Bastianich restaurants, wine by the glass is served in a quartino or, in Spanish, a cuarto, which is good for about a glass and a half. In that context, the $12–25 price range is fair, and I was happy with both that I tried — the 2005 Mustiguillo ($15) and the 2006 Jiménez-Landi ($17).

As we had reservations at Casa Mono afterwards, I didn’t order any food, and the staff didn’t try to sell me any. The munchies here aren’t expensive, but unless you order some, you aren’t going to get anything extra—not even so much as a bowl of nuts. It appeared that about half the patrons ordered food, and half didn’t.

Bar Jamón serves as Casa Mono’s “waiting room,” though it’s too successful for its own good. By 6:00 p.m. on a snowy Friday evening, Bar Jamón was nearly full. I didn’t mind standing at the bar and admiring the bottles perched there. If you want a seat, expect to wait.

Bar Jamón (125 E. 17th Street east of Irving Place, Union Square/Gramercy)

Wine: ★★★
Service: ★
Ambiance: ★
Overall: ★★

Pamplona

Note: Pamplona closed in October 2009.

*

When the restaurant Ureña opened last year, it quickly earned a place in the hearts of adoring foodies, but not, alas, their pocketbooks. Stuck on a drab block without much foot traffic, chef Alex Ureña closed earlier this year, re-opening after a brief makeover as the more downmarket Pamplona. Gone are the foams, the foie gras, and the degustation menu. A tapas menu and hearty comfort food replace them.

 
Salt Cod Croquettes and Dates wrapped in Bacon (left); Confit Suckling Pig (right)

I started with a couple of tapas. Salt Cod Croquettes ($5) were were delicate and not at all heavy. Dates wrapped in Bacon ($4) offered a well judged mixture of sweet and savory. None of the tapas were over $6, and on a list of appetizers none were over $12.

Among the entrées ($18–24), I was intrigued by the “Hamburguesa,” evidently a hamburger made with beef and suckling pig.  However, there are several entrées for two, and we were drawn to the Cochinillo, or config suckling pig, a tender brick of braised pig at $35 for two—Ureña had offered a similar dish at $25 for one.

Like the rest of the menu, the wine list at Pamplona is fairly priced. I forgot what we paid for the wine pictured at right, but it was reasonable, and as it went well with our food, I thought I’d show the label. 

The restaurant was full on a Saturday night. Everything we tried was prepared to a high standard, but it is hearty, uncomplicated, and not likely to challenge diners very much. That just might be what Alex Ureña’s customers want right now. We’d rather see him succeed at something—even if it’s not the ambitious restaurant he had before.

Service was competent, but it felt a bit rushed. 

The décor at Ureña was much scoffed at. Even after the makeover, no one would call it a romantic spot, but the hard edges of the lighting seem to have been smoothed, and it is now a perfectly pleasant inexpensive restaurant.

Pamplona (37 E. 28th Street between Park & Madison Avenues, Gramercy)

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

Matador Bistro Latino

Note: Matador Bistro Latino closed in October 2008. Yerba Buena Perry now has the space.

*

Sometimes I pick an unfamiliar restaurant on OpenTable without a lot of research, make a reservation, and take my chances. I’ve done well enough with that strategy, and in any case, it’s usually an inexpensive place, so there isn’t much to lose.

That’s what we did on Friday night, and we hit the jackpot with Matador Bistro Latino, a Spanish restaurant in the West Village. Matador has been open for about 2½ years, without attracting much critical attention. The neighborhood seems to know about it, though. We found a busy bar scene at around 8:00 p.m., and by around 9:00 the dining room was full.

With tapas priced $3–14 and entrées $14–23, Matador won’t break the bank. We ordered four tapas and a paella to share, along with a pitcher of sangria, and it was plenty. The whole bill for two was around $85, which in New York must be considered a bargain.

 
Rice balls (left); Crab cake over rice (right)

The kitchen sent out a plate of rice balls as an amuse-bouche. A crab cake was wonderful, with fresh corn adding a surprsingly effective contrast.

 
Beef skewers with chimichurre sauce (left); Pita bread (right)

Beef skewers with chimichurre sauce were tender and deftly spiced. Pita bread was soft and warm, though it didn’t arrive early enough.

 
Fried calamari (left); Grilled sardines (right)

Fried calamari was also skillfully prepared, not greasy or oily at all. My girlfriend gamely indulged my request for grilled sardines. Eating a whole fish isn’t for everyone, but I found them delightfully salty and crunchy.

Chicken and sausage paella

We weren’t as happy with a chicken and sausage paella, which we found too greasy, and lacking the spicy “kick” the tapas had.

Service was competent, but the tapas came out a bit too quickly, one after the other. I would have preferred a bit more time to breathe between courses. The space isn’t large, nor are the tables. On a Friday night, it gets a bit loud.

With those minor complaints aside, we thought Matador was a gem. The tapas were excellent, and at the price it was one of the better bargains we’ve seen.

Matador Bistro Latino (57 Greenwich Avenue at Perry Street, West Village)

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

Ureña

Note: Ureña closed in 2007, re-opening (with the same chef, and in the same space) as Pamplona, offering more casual and traditional Spanish fare. That too has since closed.

*

The restaurants on Alex Ureña’s resume read like a Who’s Who of the dining industry, from the River Café in Brooklyn, to Bouley, Blue Hill, and Ferran Adrià’s El Bulli in Spain. Earlier this year, he finally opened his own place, the aptly named Ureña, which we visited on Saturday evening.

The appetizers seemed to show the influence of the El Bulli apprenticeship. Texturas De Foie Gras ($17) had three treatments of foie gras, described on the menu as “foie gras buffuelo with spice scented red plum puree, foiegras terrine with cocoa rib garache and chocolate tuile, foie gras yogurt with yellow current.” A bit less wacky, but still unusual, was my friend’s foie gras terrine ($17), in which foie gras was interleaved with braised beef cheeks.

The entrees, on the other hand, seemed to be out of the Blue Hill playbook. Cochinillo Confitado ($25), or suckling pig confit, came with a granny smith apple puree, shitake mushrooms, and wilted green leaf lettuce. My friend’s slow-cooked chicken ($25) was another example of unfussed ingredients skillfully prepared. The amuse bouche was also in this category, a delicious warm parsnip soup. The petits-fours showed Ureña’s wilder side again, with delicately sculpted chocolate lollipops.

After it opened, the critics lambasted Ureña’s décor, truly a charmless performance. If the designer was paid, the restaurant deserves a refund. They have made the corrections they could. Harsh white lighting mentioned in early reviews seems to be dimmer now, and I didn’t hear any of the “cheesy recorded music” Frank Bruni complained about. But the place still screams for a makeover, as do the staff, who don’t seem to be held to any kind of dress code. A flat screen TV in the bar area looks new; the only thing it plays is a video of a roaring fireplace.

On the plus side, service was fairly good for a restaurant in Ureña’s class. Most tables were occupied, but the staff didn’t lose track of us, which isn’t a given at mid-priced restaurants these days. The noise level was modest, and tables were more generously spaced than at many comparable establishments.

We thoroughly enjoyed our dinner at Ureña. We weren’t in the mood for a long tasting menu, but a $125 chef’s degustation caught our eye, and we made a mental note to come back and try it. Aside from the tasting menu, prices are quite modest for a restaurant of this caliber, with no entrees priced higher than $29. The wine list, too, is unusually generous, with several fine choices under $40.

Ureña (37 East 28th Street between Park & Madison Avenues, Gramercy)

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

Flor de Sol

Note: Flor de Sol closed in early 2013.

*

Flor de Sol is a Spanish standout in TriBeCa. Zagat calls it “sexy” and “romantic”; I would agree.

I had lunch there today with a group from work. My assistant, who is Hispanic, adores the place. She highly recommended the sangria, but that wasn’t in the cards with an afternoon of work still to go. On her recommendation, I tried the filet of sole (just $11.95 at lunch), which was light, tender, and just slightly buttery. At dinner, they serve the sole in a banana sauce ($22), which I had several years ago, and was so memorable I can still taste it to this day.

Several reviews have mentioned that Flor de Sol gets noisy and crowded at night, but it wasn’t busy for lunch. Our food came out quickly—always critical for a working lunch.

Flor de Sol (361 Greenwich Street, between Franklin & Harrison Streets, TriBeCa)

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

Salud!

Note: Salud closed in 2012, after the restaurant was destroyed by Hurricane Sandy.

*

The arrival of any new restaurant in the Seaport district is newsworthy, because there are so few of them, and what’s there is in general so bland. Pier 17 itself is the haunt of tourists and weekend revelers, although Sequoia at the end of the pier is worth a visit for satisfactory seafood and some of the best views in Manhattan.

Salud is about a block away from the Seaport’s main drag. The space was formerly a sushi bar called Orange Peel. The place has been gutted, and it is now the most civilized dining space so close to the Seaport. Walk in, and the hubbub nearby is left behind. There is a cool dark glow to the polished wood tables and white walls. An live ensemble plays Spanish music, but although Salud’s space is small, the noise doesn’t overwhelm table conversation.

The cuisine is described as “South American,” of which I have no other experience with which to compare. The menu offers both Tapas (about $8-12 each) and entrée-sized mains (about $17-25 each). Fish/seafood dishes, the restaurant’s specialty, outnumber meat/vegetable dishes. I wasn’t that hungry, so I ordered two tapas. Rellenos stuffed with seafood were a big hit. The plate came with three hot cupcake-sized rellenos, each with baby shrimp, clams, and calimari inside (at least, that’s what I took the ingredients to be). Crispy & spicy chicken was not as happy a choice, as the chicken had been a bit over-cooked. The dish had potential, though. It reminded me of General Tso’s chicken, but it was a cut well above the freeze-dried versions found in so many Chinese restaurants; it just needed to come out of the deep fryer a bit sooner.

My mother ordered hanger steak, which she reported as flavorful, but having too much gristle. This is the hazard of ordering steak in a restaurant that doesn’t specialize in steak.

I was especially taken with how witty the platings were. My mother’s french fries, for instance, came stacked like Lincoln Logs. The crispy & spicy chicken came with diced green and red peppers arranged around the outside edge of the plate, framing the food. The rellenos had a white cream sauce, overlaid on the seafood in the shape of a letter Z.

I don’t mind hopping on the subway, but this is my neighborhood, and sometimes I want to stay close to home. In a part of town where there haven’t been many options, any new arrival is something to cheer about. It’ll take a few more visits to take the measure of Salud, but for now I’m happy it’s on the scene.

Salud (142 Beekman Street at Front Street, South Street Seaport)

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