Empellón Cocina

Empellón Taqueria had a rocky start when it opened a year ago. The Mexican taco joint from Alex Stupak, the former WD~50 pastry chef, got mixed reviews. I found the food underwhelming and the dining room far too loud.

The chef later added sound-proofing, adjusted prices, and broadened the menu beyond tacos. I haven’t been back, but reports I trust suggest that the place is far more enjoyable now than I found it.

Meantime, Stupak has opened a companion restaurant across town, Empellón Cocina, which will offer a more serious, less taco-centric take on Mexican cuisine. The new dining room, while stylistically similar, is just slightly more upscale than the taqueria. There are some odd stylistic choices amidst the minimalist décor: why a crucifix in one corner and a devil statue in the other?

This time, the sound-proofing was installed from the get-go, with fabric walls taking the place of brick in the original joint. Our reservation was early, but the place was full by the time we left, so this was a good test: the sound-proofing works! It’s not a tomb, but you can carry on a conversation.

I’m usually a bit skeptical of Valentine’s Day tasting menus, which often mass-produce a restaurant’s least-interesting food at a hefty premium over the usual price. But at Empellón Cocina, in its first full week of service, I figured I’d get a pretty good sample of the food Stupak will be serving à la carte, and the price was reasonable: $90 for nine courses.

I am running a bit short on time, so I have reproduced the description of the dishes from the hand-out menu, along with my light comments.

The first three dishes were excellent, with strong flavors and a great balance of flavors:

1. Peeky Toe Crab (above left) with Parsnip Juice, Crab Flan and Smoked Cashew Salsa

2. Dry Aged NY Strip Steak (above right) with Crema Parfait, Black Beans and Salsa Roja

3. Melted Tetilla Cheese (above left) with Lobster, Tomate Frito and Kol (Yucatan-style white sauce)

4. Tortilla Soup (above right)

The Melted Cheese with Lobster could become Stupak’s signature dish: it’s excellent. But the tortilla soup was somewhat forgettable.

5. Scallop (above left) with Gachas de Arroz, Plantains and Chilpachole (shellfish broth, epazote, chipotle).

6. Pork Ribs with White Beans Masa Balls, and Green Mole (tomatillo, serrano chile, herbs).

“Did the first chef go home?” That’s what we wanted to know, as the meal fell off a cliff. The poor, delicate scallop was drowned in an unpleasant pool of tomatoey broth; the ribs, served off the bone, were too dry, and served with a humdrum mole.

Stupak is a pastry chef by trade, so you would expect the desserts to be strong—and they were:

7. Rose Meringe (above left) with Cherry Sorbet and Hibscus Yogurt

8. Bonus course (above center); I believe Arroz con Leche, the best of the three

9. Chocolate Cake (above right) with Pineapple and Vanilla Cream

I didn’t take note of the wine that we ordered, but cocktails before dinner were mediocre. My girlfriend asked for something similar to a Cosmopolitan (they couldn’t make one exactly, as they lacked cranberry juice), and got its diametric opposite. Another that I ordered off the menu tasted mostly of tonic water. But the bar staff seemed new and will undoubtedly improve; to their credit, they took the non-Cosmo off the bill.

Servers were well versed on the menu, and the food came out at a reasonable pace—neither too fast nor too slow. Of course, the kitchen’s task is easier when they know every diner will have exactly the same things, in exactly the same order. That’s one of the reasons why restaurants limit your choices on Valentine’s Day.

If Stupak’s track record at Empellón Taqueria is any guide, Empellón Cocina will get better over time. On a Valentine’s Day tasting menu, one week in, he batted .500 on the savory courses and 1.000 on the desserts. That is a pretty good start.

Empellón Cocina (105 First Avenue between E. 6th & E. 7th Streets, East Village)

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

The Toucan and The Lion

Very soon, “gastropub” may need to join “locavore,” “sustainable, and “New American,” among restaurant terms so overused that they are almost meaningless.

The OED says that a gastropub is “A public house which specializes in serving high-quality food.” And what does that mean? It takes Pubology a whole blog post to decide.

The Toucan and The Lion, which opened late last year, claims to be a “Gastropub…with an Asian twist.” I agree with Pubology that, to be a gastropub, you have to be a pub first, and this is not a pub. It’s a restaurant.

But it does have a bar, where cocktails get much more attention than beer or wine. Michael Cecconi, formerly of Savoy, wrote the cocktail menu, which “draw[s] inspiration from the British East Indies.”

Sidle up for the likes of The Toucan ($10; yamazaki whisky, house rendered vermouth, angostura bitters), The Lion ($10; kaffir ginger infused rum, lime, simple syrup, sriracha), the Eastern Hospitality ($12; Gordon’s gin, lemon, house made pineapple shrub, vanilla essence), or the Thai Fighter ($11; Ezra Brooks bourbon, thai basil leaves, lime, yuzu, simple syrup). They’re all enjoyable, well made, and a good three or four dollars less than you’d pay elsewhere.

The dining room is striking in its minimalism, though a bit cold on a winter evening. It’s all white, except for the oak floors and terrariums built into the light fixtures. But it was empty at 8:00 p.m. on a Thursday evening, which could be why the owners invited us to visit on their dime.

The chef here is Justin Fertitta, formerly of Jane. The menu is in the same British–Asian fusion genre as the cocktails, and fairly inexpensive, though not as inventive. There are eight items called “Shares” ($9–16), though you and I would call them appetizers; just five mains ($16–22), and five sides ($3–6).

A lot of these dishes have the distinct feel of a snack. They complement the cocktails, rather than being substantial attractions in their own right. The Toucan and The Lion becomes a place to tide you over to the main event, or to wind up your evening after you’ve been somewhere else.

Pork Ribs ($12; above left) in an espresso glaze were probably the best dish we tried. Duck Confit Mofongo ($14; above right) was somewhat forgettable, though you can never go wrong with a fried egg on top.

Meatballs ($9; above left) are a beef/pork mix in a tangy curry sauce. Goat Pot Pie ($22; above right) didn’t resemble any pot pie I am familiar with. The goat was tender and the curry sauce was just fine, but perhaps the curry/chili theme is overdone on this menu.

I usually skip dessert, but there was no way I could pass on Bacon Sweet Potato Donuts with a coconut glaze. This could become a destination dish, if the right people hear about it. Some will say that bacon is for breakfast, but this dish tries mightily to disprove that, and in our view succeeded. Bacon lovers unite!

It is certainly worth dropping in for the excellent cocktails, and you won’t do badly with any of the share dishes or the bacon donuts. I do think the entrée menu could use more of the depth and variety that will attract serious diners and keep them coming back.

The Toucan & The Lion (342 E. 6th St. near First Avenue, East Village)

The Burger at Saxon + Parole

Earlier this year, AvroKO Hospitality Group and chef Brad Farmerie decided to close their three-year-old Asian-themed restaurant, Double Crown. Farmerie told The Times, “I want to take a fresh approach, innovate on familiar dishes with touches of North Africa and the Mediterranean.”

If there is anything fresh or innovative about its replacement, Saxon + Parole, it is lost on me. The menu offers the likes of seafood towers, a beet and feta cheese salad, a foie gras terrine, steaks, chops, lobster, chicken, a whole branzino, and so forth. It’s a generic upscale suburban restaurant, transplanted to the Bowery, with the kind of easily replicated fare that can be churned out on auto-pilot while Farmerie tends to his Michelin-starred flagship, Public.

The design department at AvroKO, which was once hailed for innovative designs at Public and Park Avenue, has fallen pray to repetition. This exact idea (named for two nineteenth-century race horses) hasn’t been used before, but there is nothing clever in its realization. The firm has become a world-class accumulator of tchotchkes.

In a one-star review earlier this week, Eric Asimov of The Times praised the burger ($17), so I ordered that. It gets a wonderful kick from a gooey fried egg, Havarti cheese, and maple bacon. The beef has a strong fatty flavor, but probably wouldn’t hold up on its own without all of the extra toppings. The fries ($6 if ordered separately) come with two dipping sauces, chili ketchup and blue cheese mayo. To my taste they were too greasy, but perhaps some people like them that way.

I dined at the bar, where getting a server’s attention was a chore. Whatever you may want—to get a menu, to order, to get a check—you’ll be waving your arms wildly before you’re noticed.

They do a brisk bar business here. I had two tequila-based drinks, the Bowery Fx and the Beetnik (both $14). The tables appeared to be about half full at 7:00 p.m., but that’s early by East Village standards. With tables spaced fairly close together and plenty of hard, exposed surfaces, it’ll get loud later on. I didn’t stick around to find out.

In a neighborhood chock full of restaurants with personality, I’m hard press to see the point of Saxon + Parole, which seems to revel in its very ordinariness. I suppose another AvroKO creation will replace it in a few years.

Saxon + Parole (316 Bowery at Bleecker Street, East Village)

The Chef’s Table at Hecho en Dumbo

 

Hecho en Dumbo, literally “Made in Dumbo,” opened on the buzzing Bowery in early 2010. Once upon a time, it was a Mexican pop-up in DUMBO, till they found permanent digs.

The bare-bones dining room looks like it came right out of Brooklyn. Loud, bustling and crowded, with no customers within a decade of my age, reservations not taken. You probably wouldn’t find me there, which is no knock on what they are doing. It’s just not my kind of joint.

Earlier this year, they launched a chef’s tasting menu at a bright, blond wood counter that looks out over the open kitchen (hat tip: Eater.com). You sit on a metal stool that isn’t very comfortable, but service is attentive, the show is worth watching, and it’s comparatively quiet.

There are about 10 seats. We had the place to ourselves when we arrived at about 6:30 p.m. A couple of other parties had arrived by the time we left, 2½ hours later. Reservations are accepted for parties of 1 or 2, and there is a fairly stern warning that cancellations aren’t accepted after 5:00 p.m. the day before.

The menu is nominally five courses, but we were served ten, including various amuses and at least two comps. But even the normal menu is a remarkably good deal at $55. The care and quality of the preparation is apparent, although at that price they are not serving luxury ingredients.

Various websites mention a wine pairing option, but that has been discontinued: we had cocktails and wines by the glass (there is also a beer selection).

I didn’t take notes and forgot to take a copy of the menu with me, so I present the photos after the jump with light comments, and in some cases none at all. Take my word for it: this deal is worth your while.

The Chef’s Table at Hecho en Dumbo (354 Bowery between Great Jones and E. 4th Streets, East Village)

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

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Double Crown

Note: Double Crown closed in August 2011. It was replaced by Saxon & Parole with the same chef (Brad Farmerie), focusing on game and domestic meats.

*

This has happened to all of us: you get to the restaurant, and the host asks you to wait at the bar until your party is complete.

What happened last night at Double Crown took arrogance and audacity to new heights. When I arrived, the host said:

Your guest is here. She went to the ladies’ room. When she gets back, I’ll take you to your table. Feel free to wait at the bar.

This was in a practically empty dining room.

In a busy, casual restaurant, I respect the policy of not seating incomplete parties. Why should the host keep someone else waiting, while I sit at a half-empty table, waiting for guests who may never show up, or who could be considerably delayed?

But Double Crown wasn’t busy, and my date had arrived. Asking me to wait at the bar in that situation is beyond absurd.

Beyond that was a loud sound track that made pleasant conversation difficult; a hackneyed faux Asian décor phoned in by the folks of AvroKO, who’ve done better work elsewhere; and a Vongerichten lite fusion menu that seems to have lost its focus since Frank Bruni awarded two grade-inflated stars in 2008.

The website claims that, “Double Crown explores the aesthetic and culinary dualities arising from the British Empire’s forays into Southeast Asia.” The British influences have disappeared, assuming they existed in the first place. What we have now is pan-Asian miscellany, filtered through an East Village twenty-something comfort food lens.

At least it is not terribly expensive. Most appetizers are $13 or less, most entrées $27 or less. Cocktails were $12, including a great chipotle sour made with three kinds of whisky. That passes for a bargain in Manhattan these days. Bread service (below left) was pretty good too, with two kinds of rolls and soft butter.

A whole braised short rib for two, served on the bone ($44; above right), and coated with an unspecified spice mix, was tender and flavorful, but short rib is hard to mess up if you braise it long enough. I realize that braised meats are prepared long in advance, but this came out literally five minutes after we ordered it—before the wine was poured, in fact. It came with a decent Asian mushroom salad.

The wine list, printed on the back of the menu, is a grab bag with no particular focus. There’s an ample selection of inexpensive bottles, or you can go into the triple digits for bottles that I couldn’t imagine drinking with this food. A 2007 Weninger Zweigelt at $36 was one of the more enjoyable inexpensive bottles I’ve seen in quite some time.

The server kept the wine on a counter away from the table, and I wondered if she’d be attentive enough to keep our glasses charged. Surprisingly, she was. But after the wine was finished, and we wanted our bill, she was nowhere to be seen.

When Double Crown opened, the Bowery was just beginning to sow its oats as a dining destination. Nowadays, if you’re in the area, Pulino’s, DBGB, or Peels are all better bets. And if you have a hankering for Chef Brad Farmerie’s best work, Michelin-starred Public and The Monday Room aren’t far away.

Those are all better options than Double Crown.

Double Crown (316 Bowery at Bleecker Street, NoLIta/East VIllage)

Food: Satisfactory
Service: Uneven
Ambiance: Loud and Hackneyed
Overall: No Stars

DBGB

On a recent visit to Daniel Boulud’s newest restaurant, Boulud Sud, I was struck by the consistent solidity of the chef’s restaurants.

Have there been wobbly moments? Yes, of course. Have the food and service always been precisely as they should be? No, of course not. But still, I find Boulud’s establishments more reliable than those of any other chef or restaurateur who has as many places as he does—except, perhaps, Danny Meyer.

Unlike Meyer’s empire, there is no one in Boulud’s large empire who is the obvious public frontman for the service end of the business, although he or she must exist: restaurants don’t keep executing at this level by magic, and Boulud himself could hardly be keeping track of them all.

Two years ago, my first visit to DBGB, the most casual restaurant in Boulud’s brood, had some hits and misses, but the restaurant then was nearly brand new, and so packed you could barely move. Sam Sifton came along and gave it two stars, which we thought was on the high side.

On a recent Saturday evening, we found DBGB very enjoyable indeed. It was less than half full, but as it was quite early—and a holiday weekend to boot—I wouldn’t draw any conclusions.

I certainly don’t remember a Matzo Ball Soup ($8; above left) on the opening menu. My son was perfectly happy with it.

One could argue that Spring Lamb ($27; above left) was over-priced for a rather small portion, but you can’t fault its preparation, which was first-rate. I wasn’t sure which of many sausages to try, but I finally chose the Korean, or Coréanne ($13; above right), a wickedly spicy pork sausage with a kimchi sauce and a stingy allotment of two shrimp chips.

DBGB has an attractive, casual dining room. It’s a pleasant place to be—at least when it is not crowded (and I don’t know when the crowds come, if they do at all these days). Service was much better than it had to be: I think the server checked back about 17 times, to ensure we had everything we needed.

The restaurant is a bit expensive, for what it is. My son didn’t drink alcohol, and all I had was a $10 beer. Nevertheless, the bill was $73 before the tip: not a splurge, but you can see from the photos how much food we got for that price, and it isn’t much. Obviously, there’s a “Boulud premium,” but at least the chef delivers.

DBGB (299 Bowery at E. 1st Street, East Village)

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

Vandaag

Note: This is a review of Vandaag under chef Philip Kirschen-Clark, who left the restaurant in August 2011 in a dispute with the owners, who apparently wanted a more casual and less ambitious restaurant. That strategy failed, and Vandaag closed in May 2012.

The space is now Mighty Quinn’s Barbecue.

*

In a town where most of the restaurants are boring copies of things you’ve seen before, welcome to Vandaag. It serves Dutch cuisine, a curiously under-represented genre, given the city’s origins. Indeed, if you trust Zagat, it is literally the city’s sole example of its kind.

The décor, like everything else at Vandaag, isn’t a copy of anything else in Manhattan. Unassuming from the outside, it’s decked out in a sleek, minimalist design that instantly feels like a modern classic. Years from now, the architect’s rendering might hang in a gallery at the Museum of Modern Art.

You’ll do well on the mostly all-Dutch wine list, but the cocktails caught my eye. There are separate sections for cocktails made with beer, akvavit, wine, and beer.

Who else serves a Popeye ($11), with Fresno chili pepper, Akvavit, spicy tomato, pilsner, and fennel pollen? What about a Vikingo ($12), with Viking blood mead, dry amontillado sherry, resposado tequila, and a maraschio cherry? No one. That’s who.

The chef, Phillip Kirschen-Clark, came from Corton via Jimmy’s No. 43 and Pegu Club. His menu isn’t terribly expensive, given the quality, with appetizers $8–14 and entrées mostly $21–28; the “ham” burger is $15, the dry-aged ribeye for two $100. A tasting menu (not served weekends) is $80.

The trade-off is that bread isn’t free. It’s $6 on a section of the menu devoted to snacks ($4–6). Instead, we had the Juniper Pecans ($5; above left), a wickedly good treat that could easily ruin dinner. The amuse bouche (above right) was a smoked salmon rillette with sauerkraut, served on a striking black slate platter.

We were slightly misled about the size of a soft-shell crab appetizer ($18; above left): it was enough for two people to share, and wonderful to boot. Gravlax ($13; above right) was a work of art, mostly for the clever and labor-intensive plating. The juxtaposition of salmon with beets, yogurt, spruce buds and roe was spectacular.

The “Ham” Burger ($15; above left) is a house-blend burger girdled in bacon with gouda cheese—a hefty portion, but my friend liked it.

Black Chicken ($25; above right) was a roll of the dice for me. I’d describe it as interesting, rather than good. Considered a delicacy in China, it is seldom served in the west. It leaves a funky aftertaste that isn’t altogether appealing. Though no fault of the chef’s, I am not eager to try it again.

Service was top-notch. The restaurant was less than half full at 6:00 p.m. on a Friday evening, as one would expect in the East Village, which doesn’t start to hop until much, much later on. As the owners haven’t packed every square inch of the place with tables, as (say) a Keith McNally might have done, I suspect it doesn’t become unpleasant, even when full.

From this admittedly small sample size, Vandaag strikes me as an essential restaurant, one that fills its unusual niche extremely well.

Vandaag (103 Second Avenue at E. 6th Street, East Village)

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

Balade

On the list of under-represented cuisines in New York City, Lebanese must be pretty close to the top. The Zagat Guide lists just three Lebanese restaurants, of which I’ve tried only one—the over-produced Ilili.

Missing from the Zagat Guide is Balade, which opened in the East Village a year ago. Despite a lack of critical attention (not a single pro review that I can find), it isn’t doing badly—at least on a Friday evening, when it was about 3/4ths full by 8:00 p.m. Nevertheless, it seeks (and in my view deserves) more attention.

(Before I proceed, in the interests of full disclosure, I need to tell you that I dined at Balade at the publicist’s invitation and did not pay for my meal.)

The name Balade means “fresh” in Lebanese. It’s an apt description, as just about everything is made in-house. The one drawback is that many customers are likely to mis-pronounce the name: roughly, it’s bah-lah-day.

The menu rambles a bit, and in its noble eagerness to offer something for everyone, takes a while to parse. There are six categories, plus sides and desserts. Many items have askerisked references to a glossary on the front page. If I were up to me, I’d ditch the glossary and explain each item where it appears.

Outside of a handful of entrées in the high teens (just one over $20), almost everything is below $15, and many are below $10. As is often the case on menus that avoid the term “appetizer” or “entrée,” it can be difficult to tell how much food you’re getting. I wound up with two appetizers and a dessert. I enjoyed everything, but if I were ordering again, I might have chosen a more substantial second course.

The meal starts with warm house-made bread (below left) and a wonderful spiced olive oil for dipping.

There’s an ample selection of vegetarian dishes throughout the menu, including more than half of the eighteen Mezza (starters). They’re $5–9 individually, or $16 for a selection of four vegetarian items. In the photo (above right), I had (clockwise from the top):

1) Tabouleh (parsley salad with burghul wheat, chopped onions, tomatoes, olive oil, and fresh lemon juice)

2) Hummus (chickpea puree with ground sesame seeds and lemon juice)

3) Warak Einab (stuffed grape leaves with chickpeas, tomatoes, garlic, and rice)

4) Labneh with Toum (cream cheese made from Greek yogurt infused with Lebanese thyme and crushed garlic)

There was an additional serving of bread, for spreading, but in the end I decided just to eat off the plate. The Labneh with Toum (nine o’clock in the photo) was deliciously creamy, the Tabouleh (twelve o’clock) a good, spicy contrast to the others. I felt journalistically obligated to try the hummus, and although it was just fine, I think the more unusual dishes are a better bet.

There are menu categories for sandwiches, or sandweechet ($6–10), Lebanese Pizza, or Manakeesh ($6.50–12) and “Pita Pitza” ($10–12). There’s also a “Taste of Lebanon” for $10 that offers three mini-pizzas, and as I was eager to know what Lebanese pizza would be like, I ordered that.

In the photo (below left), clockwise starting from the 10 o’clock position, the selection was:

1) Jabneh (Lebanese white cheese)

2) Zaatar (wild dried thyme, sesame seeds, sumac and olive oil)

3) Lahme Baajin (seasoned ground beef, diced onions and tomatoes)

The dough was thin and baked crisp. Of the three, I liked the spicy Lahme Baajin the best. The Zaatar was interesting, but a bit dry for my taste, and the cheese was pedestrian.

Dessert was flawless: first, two half-scoops of ice cream (above right): pistachio and a creamy native Lebanese flavor with a name I don’t recall. And then the Kenafa ($5; below left): baked ricotta cheese topped with bread crumbs, syrup, and crushed pistachio. This is a wonderful dessert: if you eat nothing else here, you must save room for it.

Lebanese White Coffee ($2.50; above right) is not coffee at all, but uncaffeinated rose water, more like tea, served with a small cup and a personal-size mini-kettle—an excellent way to close.

I can’t opine on the service, since the visit was a pre-arranged comp. Patronage ranged from large groups to solo diners at the bar, and as far as I could tell they were getting the attention they deserved. The 55-seat space is comfortable but un-fancy, in a way that matches the neighborhood.

The term “Neighborhood Lebanese Restaurant” doesn’t really exist in New York, but if it did, Balade would be the model. It’s inexpensive and casual, the food is well made, and there are enough choices for every mood and appetite.

Balade (201 First Avenue between 12th & 13th Streets, East Village)

Edi & the Wolf

There are two paths for a second restaurant: give the public more of the same, or attract a new clientele by doing the opposite.

If chefs Eduard Frauneder and Wolfgang Ban wanted to create the opposite of their Michelin-starred Seäsonal in midtown, I have two words: Mission Accomplished. A more striking contrast than their new place, Edi & the Wolf, would be impossible to imagine.

I’m a huge fan of Seäsonal, one of the few upscale restaurants to have opened during the recession. The chefs either didn’t have PR, or didn’t know how to use it, and the place received scant critical notice. The food is excellent, but the space is somewhat cold and clinical. I wondered whether they’d join the list of not-from-here chefs that New Yorkers have chewed up and spit out.

Unlike Seäsonal, Edi & the Wolf—that’s the two chefs’ nicknames joined by an ampersand—creates the instant impression that it belongs here. The distressed farmhouse look and the long communal table are old ideas, but they don’t look at all hackneyed. The space is comfortable and inviting.

Despite the “I’ve-seen-this-before” esthetic, the décor is inspired by something not frequently encountered in the U.S., an Austrian Heuriger, or neighborhood tavern. A 40-foot rope salvaged from an old church has been turned into a chandelier; recycled military boots become flower vases; the wooden ceiling comes from an old barn.

The only resemblance to Seäsonal is the Austrian cuisine, which is rendered more simplistically and less expensively here. Appetizers—sorry, “Small Plates”—are $4–13; larger appetizers—sorry, “Shared Plates”—are $12–17; and entrées—sorry, ‘Schnitzel & Co.’—are $14–22.

If I sound annoyed . . . well, this is one East Village-ism I could have done without. The term “appetizer” never put any restaurant out of business. The term “Shared Plate” is misleading, given that the server suggested I order two of these for myself. I wondered if I could trust that advice, so I took a different path.

Cured Pork Belly ($9; above left) with horseradish, pearl onions, and quince was wonderful. If you think pork belly is over-used, you should order this dish, which is unlike any I’ve had in Manhattan, served cold light enough to be a salad.

Wiener Schnitzel ($19; above right) is offered with either veal or pork (I took the latter). It comes with the traditional accompaniments: potato salad, cucumber, and lingonberry jam. The breading is unheavy, and not at all greasy; the portion was ample, and more than I could finish.

The mostly-European wine list tilts towards whites, many of which are Austrian labels not often found in New York. Rieslings, for instance, pair well with most of the food here, even the meat dishes.

The restaurant was empty at 6:30 p.m. on a Friday evening, but by East Village standards the evening hadn’t begun; an hour later, the room was just beginning to fill up. I dined at the bar, where service was knowledgeable and attentive. It is hard to judge at this early date whether Edi & the Wolf will be a long-term hit, but right now it seems to fit right in.

Edi & the Wolf (102 Avenue C between 6th & 7th Streets, East Village)

Food: ★½
Service: ★
Ambiance: ★
Overall: ★

Octavia's Porch

Note: Octavia’s Porch closed in May 2011 after just six months in business.

*

It’s Hanukkah! Which put me in the mood, the other day, to visit chef Nikki Cascone’s new Jewish-themed restaurant, Octavia’s Porch.

Cascone is Jewish on her mother’s side. (She’s also a Top Chef alum, having been eliminated mid-way through Season 4.) She told the Times, “I want people to understand Jewish food that goes beyond the New York deli.”

The menu is a mixture of obviously Jewish dishes (Gefilte fish, Kreplach, Latkes), and a few others you could find anywhere (roasted chicken; a veggie club sandwhich). The only nod to the other half of her heritage (her father’s Italian side) is a buckwheat tagliatelle entrée. There is certainly enough to please those for whom the Jewish dishes hold no appeal.

It’s all offered at Avenue B prices, so appetizers are mostly $10 or less, sandwiches $12, entrées $18–22, desserts $6–7. Cocktails seem like a great deal at $10, until the bartender tops off your Mojito from a soda gun, sending it to a watery grave.

The warm, house-made bread could be Robert Atkins’ public enemy #1. Serving such a gorgeous specimen to a solo diner is almost criminal. Most three-star restaurants don’t serve bread this good. The only explanation I got out of the server was, “She just uses a very high quality flour.”

Kreplach, as Wikipedia tells us, “are small dumplings filled with ground meat, . . . usually boiled and served in chicken soup.” The Kreplach here ($8; below left) are an error of both conception and execution. Made with beef and veal, they quickly fell apart, with the meat filling not adhering to the dough. Worse yet, the traditional chicken soup was replaced with an inauthentic dipping sauce of soy and scallions. These were not the Kreplach of my youth, nor were they an improvement.

But Long Island Duck Breast ($19; above right) was wonderful, with glistening meat wearing a sensuous coat of fat and skin. Spiced vanilla–apple sauce was unsubtle, but just fine. It comes with a latke, and though I didn’t mind that it was made with sweet potato, it won’t put Russ & Daughters out of business.

The space is bare-bones, particularly in the rear dining room, but old-school chandeliers and sconces make it feel like home. Menus are presented in a laminated sleeve, which means they don’t have to be replaced as often, but which also makes them look a bit cheap. The wine list is unmemorable. Service was reasonably smooth, for a restaurant that had been open just three days. The restaurant was full, and with clearly more than just an Avenue B crowd.

I am sure there will be adjustments to the menu. Cascone understands the idiom and there is no question she can cook. The bread and the duck entrée show promise of how good the restaurant can be. The kreplach show that there is still some work to do. I would certainly go back, if I lived anywhere nearby.

Octavia’s Porch (40 Avenue B between E. 3rd & E. 4th Streets, East Village)

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