Parea Prime

Remember Parea? I’d totally forgotten it, until I read a few months ago that it remodeled and became a steakhouse, Parea Prime.

Parea was relevant for a short while, back in 2006, when Frank Bruni gave it two stars. When I visited for the first time, in early 2007, I thought he was exactly right, but a later visit found a restaurant that had run off the rails.

Whatever its merits, Parea wasn’t in the “conversation,” as defined by “places people talk about” on blogs, food boards, etc. It remained open for seven years, so it must’ve had a following, but not enough of one to remain in its original form.

Now we’ve got Parea Prime, a hybrid between old and new. There’s still a section of the menu dedicated to “Greek Entrees,” and most of the appetizers are Greek too.

But in the center of the menu, where the eye is sure to fall first, you’ll find Prime Meats, “Hand selected by Pat LaFrieda, U.S.D.A Prime Dry Aged for 28 daqys minimum in his Himalayan salt room.” I had to quote the whole thing.

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Arlington Club

 

I never realized how desperate the Upper East Side was for a great steakhouse. Laurent Tourondel did. He opened Arlington Club on Lexington Avenue four months ago and scored a bullseye: an instant hit.

You’d figure Tourondel can nail a steakhouse. His BLT Steak (opened nine years ago, and since replicated in a dozen cities) practically defined the modern steakhouse movement: the appetizers and non-steak entrées are terrific, and you swoon over the side dishes as much as the steaks themselves.

Since the failure of Cello, an old-school three-star seafood restaurant, in 2002, Tourondel has been more obsessed with replicable populism than excellence. The man can cook, but who runs the show when he is absent? All of his post-Cello places have been bedeviled with inconsistency.

And none of them have had management that complemented Tourondel’s skill in the kitchen. His BLT partnership with the restaurateur Jimmy Haber ended in an acrimonious divorce in 2010. Now he’s in bed with the Tao Group, the geniuses behind a chain of terrible, but highly profitable, restaurants, such as Tao, Lavo, and Marble Lane. If Tourondel is half the perfectionist he is reputed to be, it’s hard to imagine how he’ll tolerate being beholden to these clowns.

For now, Arlington Club is BLT Lavo, neither as bad as the Tao group’s other outfits, nor as good as it could be if Tourondel ever found the right partner. Tourondel’s DNA is evident in the excellent steaks, the sides, and the heavenly popovers. Tao Group’s DNA is evident in the mediocre service, the clubby crowd, and the spectacular build-out—resembling, and as noisy as, a European train station.

I booked a 5:45 pm table on a Saturday evening. A host called to warn me that my party would not be seated if it were incomplete, and that the table would be forfeited after 15 minutes. That was after they already took a credit card number in advance. Never mind that, according to multiple critics, tables are frequently not available at the promised time. A restaurant that can’t keep to its own schedule has no business lecturing customers about punctuality.

At check-out, I was compelled to sign the bill twice, both before and after I presented my credit card. “It’s our policy,” said the server, who didn’t even try to explain it.

According to Bloomberg’s Ryan Sutton, bar tabs are not transferrable to the table—an inexcusable lapse at a restaurant where even modest eaters will struggle to keep the bill under $125 per person. The wine list offers a wide selection, from the low $50s up to four figures; but then, they’ll serve your super-Tuscan in the same glass as they’d serve a Pinot Grigio.

This is what you get when a respected chef goes into partnership with the Tao group: a restaurant practically designed to suck. But with Arlington Club perpetually packed these days, the money-vacuum at Corporate has no reason to change: they just keep hoovering up the dough.

Having said that, the service staff themselves were extremely good. The server gave excellent ordering advice; plates were cleared promptly, and the staff must have circled back half-a-dozen times to wipe crumbs off the table.

The food was fine, but not good enough to justify the Tourondel premium. The price of the menu’s centerpiece, the côte de boeuf, has been on a rocket’s trajectory: $110 in early January (when The Post’s Steve Cuozzo awarded three stars), $115 in mid-January (when The Times’s Pete Wells awarded two), $125 by the end of January (when Bloomberg’s Ryan Sutton awarded half-a-star), and $130 today. Most of the menu has seen a similar, if not quite as spectacular, an increase over the past few months.

At today’s prices, the menu offers a selection of sushi rolls ($12–21), raw fish and seafood ($14–28), appetizers ($14–26), steaks ($36–65 per person), composed mains, referred to as “specialties” ($26–59) and a wide assortment of sides ($11–15). The sushi, by the way, has been panned by all three of the pro critics that have reviewed it. We were not about to touch it with a barge pole.

The meal begins with the legendary popovers (above left), a feature wisely retained from the BLT franchies, served here (inexplicably) with pickles. The recipe has changed since we last visited BLT Prime, and I like these a bit less—they taste a bit too eggy—but they remain a highlight of dinner at any Tourondel restaurant.

 

Calamari Salad ($17; above left) and Fluke crudo ($14; above right) were competent but unremarkable.

 

That côte de boeuf (above; $130 for two), served with a trench of bone marrow, is very good and perfectly cooked to the medium rare we requested (not a guarantee here, given the comments of multiple pro reviewers). There’s an appealing crunchy char on the outside, although the meat doesn’t quite have as much dry-aged flavor as I’d like.

 

The steak comes with the French Fries (normally $10 if ordered separately). Full credit to the server for letting us know (the menu made no mention of them), and urging us to cancel a separate order of “Potatoes Arlington,” which would have been wasted on us. The fries are doused with an excess of cheddar powder and what the menu calls “spices,” which tasted to us like truffle oil. They were merely okay.

The Truffled Gnocchi ($15; above right) are superb, an expensive side dish well worth it.

 

There are about a dozen wonderful gelati and ice creams, all made in house. The server rattled them off from memory, all of them funky combinations like chocolate popcorn, of which we chose three ($8; above left). A couple of small pastries resembling beignets (above right) stood in for petits fours.

There’s much to like at Arlington Club. We weren’t served a bad dish, and several were very good. If I lived nearby, I’d go back. But the “steakhouse-plus” genre that Tourondel pioneered is no longer a novelty. For the same money, you can visit Porter House or Minetta Tavern, where the food is more consistent and the service is better.

Arlington Club (1034 Lexington Ave. between 73rd–74th Streets, Upper East Side)

Food: Steakhouse plus, BLT style
Service: Very good at the table with a terrible corporate owner
Ambiance: A gorgeous, stylized European train station (and as noisy)

Rating: ★
Why? The genre is no longer novel, and Tourondel fails to improve on it

Cannibal

 

Most restaurant names these days are hopelessly cryptic: Atera, Battersby, Reynards, The Goodwin, Governor, and so on. They could be anything. What are you to make of a Murray Hill restaurant called Resto? The name, shorthand for “restaurant,” leaves all options open.

How refreshing, then, that the folks behind Resto opened The Cannibal next door. Aside from the blankety-blank steakhouse, has ever a restaurant declared its meaty intentions more openly? Aside from a few token salads and side dishes, The Cannibal is a tribute to carnivory in all its forms—okay, all but one.

The early marketing billed The Cannibal as half-grocery, half-restaurant. One year in, the grocery angle has been phased out. There’s no mention of it on the website, and owner Christian Pappanicholas has brought in high-powered restaurant talent: Momofuku alum Cory Lane in the front-of-house, chef Preston Clark running the kitchens both here and at Resto next door. The menu seems more mature than when I looked at it a year ago.

There’s an overwhelming choice of some 300 beers, with which you can wash down a wide variety of pâtés and terrines, sausages, tartares, hams, salumi, and cheeses. I suspect most of the patrons are there for snacking: there are only six true entrées, three of which are offered only for two, and the menu warns that they take 45 minutes to prepare. (To see the current menu, click on the photo at right, which expands to a larger image.)

Broadly, the choices are divided into Charcuterie ($11–16), Small Plates ($6–13), Meat dishes ($14–20 for one, $60–65 for two), Cheeses (choose 3 to 7 for $12–19) and Sides ($5 each). The proportion of the menu that interests me: just about all of it.

 

The Poulard in Mourning ($13; above left) is a terrific chicken terrine made with a mushroom and leek purée. Spicy Merguez sausages ($11; above right) with yellow curry come on a bed of wheatberry and golden raisins.

Roasted Lamb Neck & Rib (above) is a $60 dish for two. With side dishes and appetizers, a party of four could share it. You get half a lamb neck and a quarter of the rib cage. I’ve never seen such a dish. We ate a bit over half of it, and were stuffed. The lamb was roasted perfectly, rubbed with a spicy Calabrian chile salsa verde.

The setting is casual, with all seating at the bar or at communal tables (on stools that aren’t very comfortable). The sound system is cranked up. Action flicks play on a couple of wide-screen TVs. Reservations aren’t taken for small parties, but seats turn over quickly. We had no trouble getting seated immediately at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday evening. The place was mostly full, but not packed.

Casual vibe notwithstanding, the servers behind the bar are knowledgeable and attentive. Need help navigating that list of 300 beers? I certainly did. Their advice was spot-on. The Cannibal isn’t the solution to every dining need, but oh my! What it does, it does exceedingly well.

The Cannibal (113 E. 29th Street between Park & Lexington Avenues, Murray Hill)

Food: Carnivory, every which way you can imagine
Service: Excellent for such a casual setting
Ambiance: A bar and long communal tables; a bit loud; hard metal stools

Rating: ★★

Christos Steakhouse

It’s not often that I’m wowed at a steakhouse — there are so many, and they’re mostly interchangeable.

Christos Steak House in Astoria, Queens, commands attention. It serves a porterhouse very near the best specimens available in Manhattan. Appetizers and side dishes are also first-rate, and go well beyond steakhouse clichées.

As always, full disclosure: we dined here at the restaurant’s invitation and didn’t pay for our meal. But my endorsement of comped meals is no guarantee, as a few dismayed publicists will attest. My rave for Christos is genuine.

The restaurant was Christos Hasapo-Taverna originally; the name changed in 2006, after a remodeling job. Its Greek roots are still apparent in the appetizers, while the entrées and sides resemble those of a traditional steakhouse. Mina Newman is executive chef, sharing time with the Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. She has also worked at Layla and Dylan Prime, and won an episode of the cable series Chopped in 2009.

You’ll find all of the traditional cuts of prime beef (aged in-house for 21 days), along with the usual backup entrées (chicken, rack of lamb, salmon, etc.). In February, the restaurant added a number of lower-priced dishes to the menu, including—as the chef put it—“long forgotten cuts that butchers once reserved for themselves.”

So there’s a Callotte Steak (the deckle of the ribeye) at $22, a Bavette D’Aloyau (“where the t-bone ends and the sirloin begins”) at $21, skirt steak at $28 (or $52 for two), and “the Wedge” (a cross-section of filet, culotte, and tri-tip) at $25 per person — all aged prime.

For the more popular cuts, you’ll pay Manhattan prices, but you’ll get the Queens pricing curve on the rest of the menu. Salads and appetizers are $11–19 (most below $15). There’s a wide selection of side dishes, almost all $8. A few of the non-steak entrées look like notably good deals, such as the chicken ($19) and the pork chop ($22), but we didn’t sample them.

The wine list is not especially deep. You won’t leave thirsty, but you won’t find pages and pages of trophy Cabs and Bordeaux, as you do at some of the better-known Manhattan steakhouses.

 

I wish we could have tried more, but we loved both of the appetizers we sampled. The Lamb Cigar ($12; above left) is wrapped in fillo and served with a zesty roasted pepper yogurt sauce. The Lamb Bacon “Cobb” Salad ($12; above right) was delightful: tomato, bleu cheese, red onion, and avocado, topped with a soft poached egg.

We probably should have been less selfish, and tried the unusual cuts of beef. Instead, we went straight for the porterhouse ($94). We loved the husky crust and the dry-aged taste. The textural contrast between the strip side (bottom of the photo) and the filet side was more pronounced than I recall from other porterhouses, but none the worse for that.

Lobster mashed potatoes were offered as a special. It’s one of the more remarkable side dishes I’ve encountered: potatoes whipped with hefty chunks of lobster.

One might argue philosophically whether a good lobster ought to be camouflaged in such humble clothing. I mean, would you whip potatoes with Beluga caviar? All I can say is, it worked.

But it’s a $28 side dish, and I wouldn’t blame anyone for calling it extravagant.

Obviously, since we were known to the management we got excellent service, but as far as we could tell our server paid similar attention to the other tables. The space is comfortable, decked out in dark wood paneling, like many other steakhouses. Near the entrance, raw steaks are on display in glass cases, and I believe you can buy them to take home.

For city-dwellers, the only drawback of Christos is getting there: the closest subway stop is about a 15-minute walk away (the Astoria–Ditmars Boulevard stop, served by the N and Q trains). By car, it’s only a few minutes from the Queens side of the RFK (Triboro) Bridge, and valet parking is free.

Christos Steak House (41–08 23rd Avenue at 41st Street, Astoria, Queens)

Del Frisco's Grille

A stripper once told me I ought to check out Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steak House.

I never got around to it: I avoid national chains (there are nine Del Frisco’s), and the reviews were mixed. The Robs at New York Magazine loved it; Bloomberg’s Ryan Sutton the opposite.

The steakhouse has a little brother, Del Frisco’s Grille, in four cities with a fifth on the way. You can order steaks there too, but the menu is broader, more casual, and less expensive. Full disclosure: we visited at the publicist’s invitation and did not pay for our meal.

In New York (one of two cities that has both a steakhouse and a grille), the two places are close by, on opposite sides of Rockefeller Center. From local businesses and business travelers, to Radio City, Top of the Rock, and holiday shoppers, there’s a steady flow of visitors with disposable income.

Del Frisco’s Grille isn’t, strictly speaking, a steakhouse, but it very well could be. It has a muscular, distinctly masculine décor. The space was bustling on a recent Thursday evening, with what looked like a mostly young, after-work crowd that skewed single and available, especially at the bar.

The menu is divided into nine categories, many of them with dumb names like “Food to Fight Over” (appetizers and bar food), “Ruffage” (the word “salads” wasn’t available?), “Knife & Fork” (as if we’d eat the rest with our hands?), or “Lil’ Somethin’ Somethin’” (side dishes).

Who are they’re impressing with such gimmickry? It just screams “suburbia,” and reinforces the perception of Del Frisco’s as not really serious.

Well, I’m not going to tell you that it’s destination cuisine—it’s not, and you wouldn’t believe me if I said otherwise. But for what it is, the ingredients at Del Frisco’s Grille are a cut above the norm at such places, and the food is prepared well.

The menu is a mix of items dictated by the corporate office and others adjusted to local custom. The chef, Scott Kroener, who has been here since the restaurant opened a year ago, serves the chain menu and introduces his own recipes, within the confines of a prescribed template.

Broadly: the salad and appetizer-like items are in the $9–18 range, entrées $19–44, sandwiches $16–19, and sides $9–12.

  

The Crabcake ($19; above left) is unorthodox: all lump crabmeat without breading, inside a moat of cajun lobster sauce. The Ahi Tacos ($18; above center) are made with tuna tartare, avocado, and a spicy citrus mayo. Cheesesteak Eggrolls ($15; above right), with chili sauce and honey mustard, are surprisingly good.

If I could order again, I’d choose the Cheesesteak Eggrolls, and yes, that surprises me. My girlfriend would probably choose the tacos.

  

Bacon-wrapped scallops (above left) in a vinaigrette dressing were an off-menu special. The chef said it’s one of his favorites, but it wasn’t one of mine. But I did very much like the Heirloom Tomato and Burrata salad ($18; above center). If that’s typical of the other salads, it could easily be a shared appetizer. Bread rolls (above right) were served warm, and the butter was soft, the way I prefer it.

  

Del Frisco’s wet-ages most of its steaks, which could explain why it’s not considered a top-tier steakhouse in this dry-aged town. The chef has added a dry-aged bone-in New York strip to the menu (above center). It won’t challenge Minetta Tavern, but it can give most other places a run for their money. We also sampled a wet-aged specimen, the filet ($44; above left), which like most filets was more tender but less flavorful than the strip.

Both steaks were a bit over-seasoned with salt and pepper, an objection the chef is aware of, and which has been mentioned in some online reviews. I am not sure why he keeps doing it. All three sides (above right) were capably done: the Truffled Mac & Cheese, the “Spinach Supreme”, and the Asparagus (all $12).

  

The desserts were top-notch. You’d need a big appetite to finish them. I couldn’t really choose between the Nutella bread pudding and coffee ice cream with caramel sauce (above left), the Crème brûlée cheesecake with apple cinnamon compote (above center), or the cocnut cream pie with white chocolate shavings (above right).

The space is a bit louder than I’d like, though I’m sure it’s to many people’s tastes: raucous restaurants exist for a reason. We received the white glove treatment, so I can’t comment on the typical service experience.

The cocktails, mostly vodka-based, are sweeter than my preference. I liked best the Del’s Derby (Maker’s Mark, muddled orange, mint leaves, simple syrup, soda). There’s also a 700-bottle wine list, which we didn’t explore.

Del Frisco’s Grille isn’t really part of New York food culture, and doesn’t really try to be. It’s a national chain, designed to deliver reproducible upscale comfort. The best indication of its potential is the dry-aged bone-in New York strip, which is the local chef’s idea, and is not on the corporate menu. Order that, and the heirloom tomato salad, and you could be happy here.

Del Frisco’s Grille (50 Rockefeller Plaza, 51st Street, between Fifth & Sixth Avenues)

Porter House New York

Note: Porter House renovated in early 2016. The restaurant is now branded Porter House Bar & Grill. The decor is now lighter, resembling an upscale tavern. The review below pre-dates the renovation.

*

You know the backstory, right? Michael Lomonoco, the executive chef at Windows on the World, fortuitously ran an errand to pick up a pair of eyeglasses, and missed the conflagration at the World Trade Center, where he would most assuredly have perished.

Five years later, he opened Porter House New York at the Time-Warner Center, replacing V Steakhouse, Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s failed attempt at the same genre. Frank Bruni gave it just one star, comparing it to Outback Steakhouse. In a blog post three years later, he found it much improved, though not to the point of granting it a full re-review. The Post’s Steve Cuozzo is one of the few critics who continues to return to it, most recently in September of this year.

I’ve written about Porter House three times (here, here, here), and have paid other visits periodically. I continue to vacillate about where it stands in the NYC steakhouse pantheon. It has probably the loveliest dining room of any NYC steakhouse, with priceless views of Central Park. The service and the wine list are truly top-notch.

Yet, the steaks are often just a shade below what the best steakhouses deliver. Not way below, and not bad by any means. But not what they could be. Take the porterhouse itself ($51pp, below right). It’s sliced a hair too thin, and it doesn’t have the deep char that Minetta Tavern and Peter Luger have on their specimens. This is not rocket science. This is correctable.

Full disclosure: I was recognized, and the kitchen sent out a considerable amount of free food. We had not ordered appetizers, but we received the Wild Italian Arugula Salad (normally $16) and the Baby Scallops (normally $20; both above left) at no charge.

We ordered a side of Brussels Sprouts ($10; below left), and in addition the kitchen sent out the onion rings (normally $10; top of porterhouse photo, above right) and the mixed carrots with honey, dill, and ginger (normally $10; below right), all excellent.

So, you can go ahead and call me compromised, if you’d like, but Porter House ought to be the city’s three-star steakhouse, if only they could make some very correctable corrections to their steaks.

The menu has evolved considerably over the last five years. Where it once had “porterhouses” of beef, lamb, veal, and even monkfish, the standard beef porterhouse is now the only one offered. There remains a wide variety of beef cuts, including the excellent skirt steak at just $32, along with a small selection of seafood entrées (fewer than in the past) and the now-obligatory private-blend burger, for $26. The prices are reasonable for the location.

I’m afraid I don’t recall the wine we ordered off of the 500-bottle list, but I do recall that the sommelier steered me to a slightly less expensive one that he said was better, and then decanted it. This is a first-class operation.

Chef Lomonoco’s deal to open Porter House stipulated, among other things, that he would not open another restaurant for a significant period of time. I am not sure if that restriction has expired, but I’ve seen him on the floor just about every time I visit. This continues to be his only focus, as far as I can tell. (He is planning a wine bar in the adjacent space, on the top floor of the Time-Warner Center, which sounds like a complement to the restaurant, rather than a truly new venture.)

Unlike V Steakhouse, Frank Bruni’s one-star review did not hurt Porter House. I remember finding it near-empty during the dark days of the economic collapse, but on a recent Thursday evening it was full. Good for them, and good for New York.

Porter House New York (Time-Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle, 4th floor)

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

Sam Bahri’s Steakhouse

Note: Sam Bahri’s steakhouse closed in February 2012. It never caught on. The space is now El Toro Blanco.

*

Sam Bahri’s Steakhouse opened two months ago on a lightly-trafficked stretch of lower Sixth Avenue that hasn’t been kind to restaurants. Next door, 10 Downing has been struggling for years to attract a following.

Naming a restaurant after the owner can be an earnest way of introducing oneself to the community, or it may signal a vanity project. On a recent weeknight, the staff were gracious and welcoming, but I was their only customer at around 6:30 p.m. I saw no signs of Mr. Bahri.

The restaurant claims to be serving “classic American dishes with a subtle French flair.” Only two items on the menu could claim to be plausibly French: Foie Gras au Torchon and Coquilles St. Jacques, both appetizers. That is hardly enough to establish Gallic bona fides, on a menu that is otherwise generically American.

Despite the steakhouse hook, there are about a dozen non-steak entrées, ranging from $25–45: things like chicken, salmon, duck breast, sesame crusted tuna, and beef short ribs. As none of these are at all original, the only claim the restaurant could hope to make is preparing them better than other establishments in its neighborhood and price range.

Perhaps it does. So far, there are handful “reviews” on sites like Yelp, OpenTable, and Menupages, almost all four or five stars out of five. That may be suspicious, or maybe Sam Bahri’s is that good.

My only evidence is the Cowboy Ribeye, which might be the best $40 dry-aged prime steak in town. It’s thick, earthy, and has a firm crust.

You’ll note I didn’t say best, only best for $40. This one’s pretty good, but others are better. You’ll also pay $5, $10, or even $20 more.

I’ll admit curiosity about the double-cut duck breast bacon, but the menu said it’s for two, and even at $12 I didn’t want to put it to waste. So that’ll be for another day, assuming Sam Bahri’s Steakhouse sticks around.

It’s a pretty, pleasant place, but the Village has plenty of those, and it’s not as if there aren’t other steakhouses clamoring for attention.

Sam Bahri’s Steakhouse (257 Sixth Ave. between Bleecker & Houston, West Village)

Primehouse New York

Note: Primehouse New York closed in September 2012 after a five-year run.

*

I had an evening meeting earlier this week in the vicinity of Primehouse New York, so I decided to drop in. The economy and my waistline being what they are, I ordered two appetizers.

Primehouse is a “Steakhouse Plus” — a restaurant that does steaks superbly, but where the non-steak items are far more than just afterthoughts. Both of my appetizers were preparations I don’t recall seeing in any other restaurant.

A rich Filet Mignon Carpaccio ($16; above right) comes draped in a pickled fennel salad, with foie gras “croutons” hiding underneath.

I considered omitting the photo of “Bacon & Egg” ($14; above right), as it really doesn’t do the dish justice. There is a double-cut log of pork belly and a soft-boiled egg deep-fried in panko crust in a pool of grits. Trust me: the dish is much, much better than my lame photo of it.

Steak prices remain on the high side, with most in the high $40s or low $50s, but I assume the aging program remains top-notch, as it was before. The steaks I observed at other tables had a wonderful sear and a uniform medium-rare finish.

Primehouse seems to be doing just fine — the bar is usually close to full, the dining room somewhere between half and three-quarters — but it doesn’t get as much attention as the better known brands. I rank it in the top tier of NYC steakhouses.

Primehouse New York (381 Park Avenue South at 27th Street, Gramercy)

The Pub Mutton Chop at Keens Steakhouse

I’ve written before about the so-called Legendary Mutton Chop (it is actually lamb) at Keens Steakhouse. It’s the most quirky item on the menu: no other restaurant I know of serves lamb butchered this way.

The mutton chop in the dining room costs $45, and like most steakhouse portions is more than all but the hungriest diner will finish.

In the pub, they serve a half-sized version for $25 that is still ample, especially if you order appetizers and side dishes. (The limp greens that come with it are nothing to write home about.)

It is nice to have warm rolls offered beforehand; not so nice that they are served with butter that just came out of the fridge.

Still, it is worth your consideration if you’re in the Herald Square area and want a light bite without signing up for a heavy steakhouse meal.

The other useful thing is that there is no break between lunch and dinner service: Keens is open continuously from 11:45 a.m. until late.

Keens Steakhouse (72 W. 36th St. between Fifth & Sixth Avenues, West Midtown)

Abe & Arthur's

Note: The owners of Abe & Arthur’s replaced it with La Cenita in 2013 and La Cenita Steak in 2014, before closing entirely later that year to become “an events and catering facility.” As of late 2014, the space was expected to become a branch of the Italian restaurant Tony’s di Napoli.

*

Abe & Arthur’s is a Meatpacking District dining barn that opened last October in the old Lotus space. It accommodates more guests than a 747 jetliner.

Early reviews weren’t ecstatic, so the place wasn’t high on my list until Ozersky.TV filed on chef Franklin Becker’s unique way of preparing a steak. Briefly put: he quickly sears the meat at intense heat, then puts it in a hot butter bath, then finishes it once again under the broiler. The skeptical Ozersky was persuaded, and therefore so was I.

I walked there after work and took a seat at the bar. The place was nearly empty at 5:30 p.m., but that quickly changed. A loud party of three guys came in, started telling lewd jokes to the barmaid, then ordered a magnum of red wine. It was going to be that kind of evening.

While I waited for my steak, the server dropped off a bowl of warm popovers. They’re not as good as the ones at BLT Prime, but still better than the bread service that most restaurants settle for.

Becker sources his beef from Creekstone Farms, which supplies many of the high-end steakhouses. He offers a filet, a strip (which I had), or a porterhouse for two. The rest of the menu, mostly bistro standards, is expensive. If you don’t order steak, entrées range from a wild mushroom risotto ($27), to scallops and bacon ($34).

The steak itself, served on a sizzling cast iron skillet, is excellent. I prefer a bit more char, but there was just enough to supply a satisfying crunch with every bite. The dry-aged prime beef is as good as it comes, and it was prepared expertly to the medium rare I requested.

It is not, however, as good as the city’s current gold standard, the bone-in strip at Minetta Tavern, which currently sells for $45. That’s four dollars more than at Abe & Arthur’s, but Minetta is a much more satisfying restaurant overall. Of course, the fact that you can get into Abe & Arthur’s weighs in its favor.

Service was friendly, but frantic. Once the bar started filling up, it was not easy to get the over-taxed barmaid’s attention. Unlike Ozersky.TV, I do not have the benefit of a private audience with the chef. The steak certainly lived up to Ozersky’s endorsement, but I won’t rush back. It isn’t an especially pleasant place to dine, and there are other restaurants that can satisfy a steak fix equally well.

Eater.com reported that the owners are hoping to open three more Abe & Arthur’s restaurants in Manhattan. That sounds like over-expansion to me, but what do I know?

Abe & Arthur’s (409 W. 14th St. between Ninth & Tenth Ave., Meatpacking District)

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