Marea

I have a perverse fascination with Marea. Our first visit was not exactly impressive. I went back with a colleague and had a meal that, if not stellar, was at least solid. Cooking the food without significant errors is progress.

But I have not yet seen anything that would justify the rapturous reviews given by critics I respect, like Alan Richman and Ryan Sutton. I keep wondering, “What have I missed?”

The other night, I was in the area and stopped in again for an appetizer, a couple of cocktails, and dessert. The cocktails were very well made; I particularly loved The Diplomat, an Italian re-interpretation of a Manhattan. A couple more of those, and they would have had to carry me home.

Getting a bartender’s attention was a consistently a challenge, except towards the end of the evening when the crowds had cleared out. They serve a full menu at the bar, but it doesn’t occur to them to offer the menu. A cocktail list is dropped off, and before you can blink the bartender has disappeared again.

Baccala ($18; above left) is a house-made salt cod, impeccably prepared in itself, but given little help by the heirloom tomatoes and watercress purée. I mean, why those vegetables with that fish? But I adored the Zuchine ($12; above right), a zucchini tort with lemon crema frozen yogurt, with which the bartender comped a glass of dessert wine. That’s what you want from a three-star restaurant—food you can’t get out of your head, even days after you’ve eaten it.

The à la carte menu structure at least means that one can dip into Marea periodically without committing to a four-course meal. And I suppose I will keep looking for the magic. Sam Sifton’s verdict for the Times awaits.

Marea (240 Central Park West between Seventh Avenue & Broadway, West Midtown)

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

A Voce Columbus

Note: Click here for a more recent review of A Voce Columbus.

*

A Voce Columbus opened last week, taking over the failed Café Gray space. The original downtown branch is now called A Voce Madison. Missy Robbins, a respected Chicago chef who used to be a favorite of the Obamas’, heads up both operations.

I never quite bought into the hype for the original A Voce. Even with Andrew Carmellini at the helm, the food fell short of the three stars Frank Bruni had awarded. Factor in an unpleasant space and inattentive service, and I awarded the restaurant just two stars.

I am not a fan of noisy restaurants, especially expensive ones. Café Gray was crowded, loud, and distinctly unpleasant. For a restaurant with most entrées in the 30s, this was unacceptable. Consumers agreed, and Café Gray is no longer with us.

At A Voce Columbus, one of Café Gray’s errors has been rectified: the kitchen no longer blocks the entire view of Central Park, though it still blocks a good deal of it. The dumbest restaurant design of the decade couldn’t be entirely corrected without gutting the space down to the studs. They’ve done the best they could, opening and brightening up the gloomy shell of a space that Café Gray left behind.

But they didn’t fix the noise. If anything, it is worse. With nothing but hard surfaces everywhere, the room is an echo chamber. My hand was cupped to my ear all evening. Couples nearby were shouting at each other to be heard. Is this a restaurant or a NASCAR race? A Voce’s owners clearly aren’t sure.

A Voce Columbus is not as expensive as Café Gray, but it’s not a cheap date. Our dinner for two was $172.50 before tax and tip. If you order wine, you’ll have trouble getting out for much less than that. Antipasti are $11–16, primi $17–25, secondi $24–38. Service is much improved over my recollections of A Voce Madison, but it does not make up for the cacophonous space.

Missy Robbins’s food struck us as timid and uninteresting. Most of what we tried was flat, under-seasoned, and unmemorable. You’d be happy to drop in if it cost half as much. But I wouldn’t go out of my way for this food, even if the room were much more pleasant.

I give full props to the bread service, though (above right), with a terrific olive oil ricotta spread.

We shared an appetizer and a pasta. Crispy sweetbreads ($14; above left) had the texture of pork belly, and you can never go too far wrong with that, but the smear of polenta underneath them might as well have been Gerber’s baby food. Orecchiette ($19; above right) were dull, and I could barely taste the pork jowl swimming inside.

Branzino ($28; above left) and Lamb Chops ($34; above right) were cooked correctly, but they were not much more adventurous than what one might do at home. The heirloom tomatoes under the branzino had the most basic preparation; likewise the lentils and lamb sausage that came with the chops.

Crisp baked strips of flour lightly dusted with sugar passed for petits-fours.

Servers did a good job of keeping track of our table. I am always nervous when the wine bottle is kept at a central station, but the sommelier kept our glasses replenished.

I could not tell if the sommelier failed to hear me over the din, or if he was upselling. When I asked for a wine recommendation below $60, he kept pointing to bottles above $60. I finally just gave up and ordered one of his suggestions at $68—very good, but $10 more than I had asked for.

A Voce Columbus is less than two weeks old, and I am always wary of judging a restaurant so early. However, it appeared to me that the kitchen executed everything as it was intended. The food just wasn’t very interesting, especially at these prices. Of course, we sampled only a fraction of the menu, but I won’t be dragged again into such an unpleasant space to try any more of it.

A Voce Columbus (10 Columbus Circle, Time-Warner Center, 3rd floor)

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

Lunch at Jean Georges

Note: Click here for a more recent review.

For years, I’ve heard about the remarkable lunch menu at Jean Georges: any two courses, $28; additional courses, $14 each; desserts just $8 each. It also includes the same amuses-bouches and petits-fours served at dinner.

Few luxury restaurants come close to offering that kind of deal at lunch. Le Bernardin, for instance, is $68. The Modern is $55. Eleven Madison Park recently started offering two courses for $28, but Jean Georges was doing it before there was any recession. And Jean Georges has four stars.

For such a low price (the normal dinner menu is $98), you’d expect limited choices, but that’s not the case. There are twenty-one options (just two carry supplements), and most are recognizable versions of those offered at dinner. The list isn’t divided into the standard appetizers and entrées, just a long list: if you want two meat courses, you’re welcome to have them.

Even more remarkable, the prix fixe in the adjoining Nougatine, the casual front room, is $24.07, so the dining room is charging only a four-dollar premium for considerably more ambitious food. A friend and I had lunch there today. We ordered the standard two courses each and shared a third, bringing the savory total to $63. After a couple of glasses of wine, the bill was just $98, including tax.

The trio of amuses-bouches was nearly identical to those my mother and I had at dinner last month: a disc of homemade mozzarella, a crab fritter in mushroom sauce, and an herbal chicken broth. After we tasted the crab fritter, my friend said, “The wonderful thing about Jean Georges is that he never makes a mistake.” Then we tried the chicken broth, which tasted like dishwater.

A Warm Green Asparagus Salad was just fine, but overly simplistic. My friend’s appetizer of Tuna Ribbons with avocado, spicy radish, and ginger marinade, seemed a lot more interesting. We shared the Foie Gras Brulee, a Jean Georges staple, which must be the best foie dish in the city. It has been perfect both times I’ve had it.

For the main course, my friend had the same remarkable Goat Cheese Gnocchi with baby artichokes that I tried last month. He was equally impressed. I loved the Red Snapper crusted with seeds and nuts, and served in what appeared to be a stew of baby heirloom tomatoes.

It used to be that Jean Georges was my least favorite of the four-star restaurants. More than the others, it seems more prone to the inevitable minor screw-up (in this case, the dishwater chicken broth). But I have to admit the place is growing on me.

Vongerichten himself was in the house and came over to say hello. The dining room was full (as was adjoining Nougatine), which makes me wonder why the chef is quite so generous at lunchtime.

Jean Georges (1 Central Park West at 60th Street, Upper West Side)

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

Jean Georges

Note: Click here for a more recent review.

Even four-star restaurants have to adapt. A couple of years ago, the dining room at Jean Georges got a make-over. I’m not the one to itemize all of the changes, as I visited the original space only once, but the space now seems brighter and yet more spare—a kind of Scandanavian economy that ensures no distractions from the food and the adjoining Central Park views.

The current recession brought another change: a $58 four-course menu that is served from 5:30–6:00 p.m. and from 10:00–11:00 p.m. (At other times, the minimum entry point is $98 for four courses.) Those might not be ideal dining hours, but it’s still the lowest available price point of any four-star restaurant, or indeed, of just about any luxury restaurant in the city. For that Jean Georges deserves to be applauded.

It was the $58 menu that brought us into Jean Georges the other night. With a $74 burgundy added to the tab, we were still out of there for $205 before tip, making this one of the better meals we’ve had for the price in quite some time.

The $58 menu offers no choices, except at dessert: you are going to get the three savory courses they’ve mapped out for you. However, it is not a bad selection at all. If I’d ordered these dishes at full price, I would not have been disappointed.

We started with a trio of amuses-bouches (above left): a swirl of pickled rhubarb on a disc of mozarella, a peekytoe crab fritter in a light mushroom sauce, and an herbal chicken broth. The crab fritter was the best of these. The chicken broth seemed like a throw-away. The appetizer (above right) was classic Vongerichten: cubes of delicate hamachi paired with Japanese cucumber.

The next two courses were superb, and at least to me, bracingly original. First was a goat cheese gnocchi with caramelized artichokes, rosemary and lemon zest (above left). I wrote in my notes: “remarkable”.

The last course was an arctic char (above right) with a rhubarb compote, ramp ravioli and olive oil foam. It had a sweet–tart contrast that Vongerichten is so well known for. The tart elements were slightly over-powering to my taste, but I give full credit to the ravioli and the fish itself, which was more tender than I thought possible.

We had our choice of any dessert on the regular menu. I chose “Caramel” (above left), while my Mom chose “Chocolate (above right). (“Rhubarb” and “Apple” were the other options.) It all seemed competent to me, but not as memorable as the savory courses.

We concluded with the usual array of petits-four, including the house-made marshmallows (left).

The service seemed more polished than it was on our last visit, but it surely helped that the dining room was not yet full. I still think that Jean Georges is a half-step behind the city’s other four-star restaurants, but this was my best meal to date in any Vongerichten establishment. I should schedule another visit while it is still possible to eat here at bargain prices.

Jean Georges (1 Central Park West at 60th Street, Upper West Side)

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

Masa

For almost five years, I’ve been wondering…watching…waiting. Masa was there, beckoning, but I knew the expense was staggering—more than most Americans pay for rent. Last week, finally, I decided it was time.

The restaurant is named for Masa Takayama, who five years ago closed his famed Los Angeles sushi temple, Ginza Sushiko, and joined Thomas Keller to anchor the Time-Warner Center’s “Restaurant Collection.” Masa and Keller’s Per Se lived up to the hype, with eight New York Times stars and five Michelin stars between them. Other restauranteurs at the venue weren’t so lucky (Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Gray Kunz), or failed to open at all (Charlie Trotter).

The format here is a three-hour omakase—meaning you’re in the chef’s hands. The cost? It was $300 when Amanda Hesser reviewed it for the Times in 2004, had risen to $350 six months later, when Frank Bruni awarded four stars, and is now $450—assuming you don’t order the Kobe beef, which carries a $100 supplement (we took a pass). Even with a modest alcohol order, dinner for two, including the automatic 20% service charge, was $1,285, including tax.

The cost of high-end sushi is surreal. The most exclusive imported fish is expensive no matter where you have it. The omakase at Kurumazushi, which I reviewed two weeks ago, was about the same price, but a lot of the items seemed similar to one another. What is astonishing at Masa is the sheer variety. At Kurumazushi, though, we were served massive chunks of fatty tuna. Masa slices the rare fish into thin slivers.

There are just 26 seats—10 at the sushi bar (made from a single slab of hinoki wood) and 16 at the tables. We chose the bar—always a better experience at a sushi restaurant—and were fortunate enough to be at Chef Takayama’s station. There were two other sushi chefs at the counter; and behind them, two more preparing hot dishes on a grill.

When we arrived, Chef Takayama was in the midst of dismembering a hunk of toro that must have weighed thirty pounds. With a knife sharp enough to shave a mosquito, he patiently peeled apart layer after layer of flesh, separated by thin cartilage membranes. The amount of waste was considerable, though the parts not fit to be served as sushi disappeared into the kitchen, aparently to be used for some other purpose.

Masa is camera-shy, and we didn’t want to encumber our meal with note-taking. As we reconstructed the meal afterwards, we counted at least 25 items, and it may even have been a bit more than that. There were about a half-dozen appetizers, followed by wave upon wave of sushi.

The appetizers were all wonderful, but perhaps the most startling was cold sea bass with chrysanthemum—we actually ate the flower along with the fish. Another winner was a diced fish still in its own skin, with vegetables and spices: “Eat it all,” Takayama advised. The other appetizers included a crab salad, toro with caviar, truffle risotto with sea urchin, and miso soup.

A list of the sushi courses is practicaly a Who’s Who of the sea: toro, fluke, mackerel, clam, octopus, scallop, eel, shrimp, sea urchin, squid, herring—and for several of these, more than one kind. Most of the time, Takayama molds a small wedge of rice, applies a dab of wasabi, lays a slice of fish on top, paints it with soy sauce, then places it on your plate, or if it is too delicate, hands it to you directly.

Occasionally, he varies that pattern. One piece came wrapped in a cucumber skin, another in a shiso leaf. One course was a shitake mushroom; another was white truffle. A few items came from the hot station: the chef seared one piece of fish with a hot poker before serving it. Late in the meal, Takayama produced a carcass that looked like it could be a baby lamb’s rib cage. He scraped off some meat and served it to us: “Tuna bone,” he said.

Dessert was a simple bowl of grapefruit granité, which seemed like an anti-climax to the sushi theatrics.

Wine (nearly all white) is served by the bottle, sake by the carafe. Compared to the price of the food, it was pretty reasonable. Three different sakes—admittedly, some of the lower priced ones—were only $101 total, which isn’t bad when the food was $900.

The service team operates quietly and efficiently, setting and clearing so smoothly that you almost don’t realize they’re there. Serving pieces (different for each course) are practically works of art in themselves.

Masa is clearly not a populist experience. At its extravagant price, it clearly cannot be. Yet, even in these tough economic times the restaurant appeared to be doing strong business—though it was not full. We could never be regulars here, but for one night we were happy to invest in Masa’s one-of-a-kind splendor. I can’t compare it to anything in Japan, but here in New York, Masa is without peer.

Masa (Time-Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle, 4th floor)

Cuisine: Japanese/sushi, as fancy and pricy as they come
Service: So quiet and efficient, you practically don’t realize they’re there
Ambiance: A serene oasis of calm

Rating: ★★★★

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill

I dropped by Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill the other day for a snack. A pulled pork appetizer from the daily specials list, at $12.25, was impressive. I didn’t note the details, but it was essentially a cross between American barbecue and miso soup.

I was seated at the end of the sushi bar, where a huge fish head was staring at me. Initially, I wasn’t sure if it was real, but it surely was. Periodically, a chef would pour a bucket of ice cubes into the mouth—without which it would turn foul in a hurry.

 

Service was a little helter-skelter, as one expects in this type of restaurant. I wasn’t impressed the last time I visited, but the pulled pork appetizer persuaded me that perhaps Blue Ribbon Sushi is worthy of more attention.

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill (308 W. 58th Street in the Thompson Hotel, 6 Columbus Circle)

Gray Kunz and the Short Rib Derby

 
Left: Café Gray; Right: Grayz

Note: Café Gray and Grayz have both closed. Café Gray will be replaced by a clone of A Voce. Grayz re-opened in January 2009 as Atria, with Gray Kunz’s former chef de cuisine, Martin Brock, as executive chef. After four short months, it bit the dust.

Café Gray will shortly be closing, a victim of sky-high rents at the Time Warner Center. That will leave the talented chef, Gray Kunz, with just one restaurant, Grayz, which struggles with problems of its own.

Linking both restaurants is one of this town’s great chefs and his destination dish, the legendary braised short ribs. He served a version of the dish at the four-star Lespinasse, and it anchors the menus at both Café Gray and Grayz.

Recently, I tried the short ribs at both places. I wondered: how are they different? how are they alike? I also wanted to bid farewell to Café Gray, and to see if Grayz is as good as some message board enthusiasts say it is.

* * * 

At Café Gray, one can’t help escaping the glimmer of what might have been. In previous visits, I’ve never had the slightest doubt about the food: Kunz can cook rings around anyone. But the room: oh, the room! It’s noisy and ugly, and it interposes an open kitchen between diners and the world’s best view.

If you’re going to visit Café Gray, its final weeks are the best time. I found it mostly empty on a Wednesday evening. There’s no escaping the bone-headed design, but at least I had a pleasant supper without contracting a migraine.

 
Left: amuse-bouche; Right: petits-fours

Service was polished and seamless. The amuse-bouche was a small spoonful of chickpea yogurt, and there was a nice plate of petits-fours at the end.

I left Café Gray with a bit of sadness. This restaurant should have been, could have been, so much better.

* * *

Grayz is living proof of what happens when a promising restaurant botches its opening. The trouble here was that Kunz couldn’t decide if he was opening a bar that served snacks or a restaurant with a bar. The muddled concept was confusing, and early reviews weren’t favorable.

The menu has been revised, and it makes more sense now. The entrées, which numbered just three when I visited in the early days, have now been expanded to six. Whether you want a full meal or just to…well, “graze”—Grayz can accommodate you.

The interior design betrays indecision about the concept. You still feel like you’re in a bar that serves snacks, but the service is very good, and the food is first-class. Think of it as an elegant restaurant where the bar is closer than you’d like it to be, like a social misfit elbowing in on your privacy.

Despite its flaws, Grayz deserves your attention.

Unfortunately, it’s hard for a restaurant to get the word out after the early review cycle has concluded. The tables were less than half occupied on a Wednesday evening, and according to reports I’ve read elsewhere, that’s not unusual. The GM came over after my meal, greeted me warmly, and gave me his card. Grayz is still trying to cultivate a following.

 
Left: Bread service; Right: Weisswurst

To begin, Grayz offers the same wonderful spears of warm bread as before, with a Lebanese yogurt, spice, and olive oil dressing. I was better behaved this time: I stopped after only one.

I ordered the Weisswurst ($12), or German sausage, which comes with a homemade brown mustard. I’m not a connoisseur, so I don’t have much to compare it to. I loved the delicate casings, but the mustard was definitely needed, as the meat didn’t have enough flavor on its own. The bright-red cast-iron serving dish got in the way of my knife and fork.

To close, the petit-four was a hollow cylinder of crisp brown chocolate on a bed of sugar.

The cocktail menu here is a cut above the norm. I tried two of them, the Badminton Cup and the Aviation, both $14. My table was close enough to the bar that I could hear the conversation between the bartender and one of his customers—a post-modern meditation on the “art of cocktails.” I thought, “This is so 2008.”

* * * 

So, what about the short ribs?

 
Short ribs at Café Gray (left) and Grayz (right)

As you can see from the photos, they are quite similar. The manager at Grayz said he believes the meat is prepared identically. At Café Gray, it’s served on a bed of soft grits; at Grayz, it’s creamed spinach. The price is $41 at Café Gray, $39 at Grayz.

If I could have only one before I die, I’d choose the Grayz version. It was served on the bone; at Café Gray, there was no bone. At Grayz, it was slightly more tender, and spinach goes better with beef than grits. You could argue, though, that $39 is awfully dear for short ribs, even Gray Kunz’s.

* * * 

Kunz says that Café Gray will re-open at another location—rumored to be the current Oceana space.. He’s known to be a slow-poke, so I wouldn’t hold my breath for it. Wherever he goes, his first act should be to fire himself as an interior designer. But while we wait for Café Gray’s reincarnation, Grayz will be quietly chugging along.

Give Grayz a try. You could be pleasantly surprised.

Update: Grayz will close on August 10, 2008, for a facelift, re-opening on September 1. The downstairs catering space will become a proper restaurant, and the upstairs space—reviewed here—will presumably become what it was meant to be: a lounge.

Grayz (13–15 West 54th Street between Fifth & Sixth Avenues, West Midtown)

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

Porter House Evolves

I dropped in at Porter House New York last night for a quick bite. On a Thursday evening at around 6:30 p.m., the restaurant was mostly empty. Many servers and runners were just standing around. As in the past, the clientele included a number of families with small children.

I wasn’t that hungry, so I had the Skirt Steak, at $28 the second-cheapest entrée (after the chicken, $27). This is a second-string cut of meat, but Porter House gives it a first-rate preparation, with a nice smokey char and an Argentine chimichurri sauce.

Since my last visit, Porter House has wisely dropped its plats du jour—dishes that are served only one night of the week. The Cowboy Steak, formerly available only on Thursdays, is now offered every day. On a less happy note, that steak was $38 fifteen months ago; it is now $45.

The “porterhouse” conceit has been scaled back. There were once porterhouses not just of beef, but also lamb, veal, pork, and even monkfish; only the beef and the veal options remain. There were once more than half-a-dozen seafood entrées; there are now only four.

There are, of course, other entrées: hangar steak, filet mignon, chili-rubbed ribeye (not worthwhile at $48), lamb chops. But with a few exceptions (“Duck Steak”), the restaurant is evolving closer to the classic steakhouse, albeit with one of the world’s best views.

Bread service remains a strength, with three excellent house-made breads and a soft serving of butter. I didn’t order wine, but the wine list didn’t seem quite as egregiously priced as it was last time. Aside from that, I had a somewhat dour server who seemed displeased with his lot in life. Come to think of it, nobody seemed especially pleased. An empty restaurant will do that.

In a sense, Porter House is a somewhat less interesting restaurant than it was before. But the steaks remain top-notch, and the ambiance is more comfortable than most steakhouses.

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

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

Bar Masa

When Masayoshi Takayama sold his famed Los Angeles sushi restaurant and moved into the Time-Warner Center, most of the attention was lavished on his famously expensive four-star gem, Masa. There, you pay anywhere between $400–500 per person for whatever omakase menu Chef Masa wants to serve that day.

I’ve not been to Masa, as the appropriate occasion to blow $1,000 (for two) on sushi hasn’t yet presented itself. There’s an adjoining restaurant called Bar Masa, and I gave it a try the other night. Reservations aren’t taken, but the bar was only about half full, and only a couple of tables were unoccupied.

Bar Masa has garnered scant critical attention, perhaps because it’s considered an annex of Masa. But Bar Masa is really a separate concept. Here, the menu is à la carte. If you’re in the chef’s hands at Masa, at the place next door you’re totally on your own.

Given that it’s run by a sushi chef, I thought that Bar Masa referred to a sushi bar. Silly me. It’s an alcohol bar that also offers food. Whatever you order, even if it’s sushi, is prepared behind the scenes, thereby depriving you of one of the great joys of sushi dining: the interaction with the chef.

The first two facing pages of the menu are dedicated to prepared foods. There are about 90 choices. That’s not a misprint. They’re priced anywhere from $8–68, but mostly $18 and higher. They’re in ten different categories, like “Chilled,” “Salad,” “Hibachi Grilled,” “Braised,” “Fried,” etc. I had trouble getting clear guidance from the confused servers, but it seems that the vast majority are appetizer-sized, meaning you’d probably need to order a good three or four of them, maybe five or six if you’re hungry, to make up a full meal.

The next couple of pages are the sushi menu, with rolls $18–120 (most $25 or less) and sushi/sashimi $6–65 (most $10 or less), or $98 for the omakase.

This being a bar, there is a drinks menu, which takes the price of dining at Bar Masa to ludicrous levels. The house cocktails are $18–35, including $20 for an “Ocean Bloody Mary” (tomato and clam juice with pepper celery ice cubes). Sakes, sold by the caraffe, are $19 and up; wines by the glass $16 and up; by the bottle $60 and up.

I confess some curiosity as to what a $20 Bloody Mary would be like, but I didn’t feel lucky, and I felt totally adrift in the sprawling menu. I only wanted a snack, so I ordered the cheapest caraffe of sake ($19) and two of the prepared dishes.

The caraffe of sake came in a stone bowl, wrapped in ice; the ceramic cup was pre-chilled, too. You pay through the nose here, but at least the presentation is first-class.

Peking duck with foie gras in mooshu skin ($24) was a miniature version of the Chinatown classic. The preparation was lovely, but the food was not really that much better than you get elsewhere. And those pancakes were awfully small—about two bites apiece—making the dish $3 a bite.

The server asked that I discontinue taking photographs, so I can’t show the more striking dish, the Crispy Snapper Head ($28). There was no mistaking the poor snapper when the plate arrived: a fish head split in two, with a vacant eye socket staring at me. The eyes themselves, the brains, and indeed all of the fleshy parts were excavated before the head was breaded and tossed in the deep fryer.

Once I got past the gross-out factor, the dish was a disappointment. With the soft parts gone, all that remained were a bread crust and dessicated bones. Think Southern-fried chicken without the chicken. Either they wasted a perfectly good snapper, or someone else got the tasty parts.

Desserts was the only bargain: I finished with a perfectly respectable cheesecake: $9. 

There are probably many gems, along with some duds, on the menu at Bar Masa. But two small appetizers, the cheapest caraffe of sake, and a small dessert set me back $100 (including tax and tip). At that price, I’m not rushing back.

Bar Masa (10 Columbus Circle, Time–Warner Center, 4th floor)

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

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill.

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill has recently opened in the Thompson Hotel at 6 Columbus Circle. It’s the latest in a chain of eight sushi houses, brasseries, and bakeries in Manhattan and Brooklyn.

Blue Ribbon Sushi on Sullivan Streeet in SoHo is an intimate place, to which Ruth Reichl awarded two stars in 1998. It does not accept reservations. Eager beavers line up around the block for one of the few, coveted seats. Its late hours make it a beloved haunt for chefs all over town.

But Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill is a cynical affair built to capitalize on the name, dressed for the big dance and tricked out in a slightly smaller version of the modern big-box Asian style.

Ryan Sutton, reviewing for bloomberg.com, counted 168 items on the menu. Bravo for Sutton, as he saved me the trouble. All I know is that we were overwhelmed. My son and I each ordered a selection of rolls ($28; photo above), my girlfriend the sushi deluxe ($29.50). We found both dishes competently prepared, but underwhelming. “Pedestrian” was the word that came to mind. With 166 other choices remaining, who’s to know whether this is typical? The choice of sakes was impressive, but expensive.

The address is a tease, by the way: you’ll search in vain for the hotel on Columbus Circle: it’s actually on 58th Street, across from the mall, several doors down from the circle.

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill (308 W. 58th Street in the Thompson Hotel, 6 Columbus Circle)

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