Ureña

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Voce

Note: Andrew Carmellini, the chef when this review was written, has left A Voce. His replacement is Missy Robbins, who comes to New York from the Chicago restaurant Spiaggia. We haven’t been back since, but click here for a review of A Voce Columbus at the Time-Warner Center.

*

A Voce is the first solo restaurant by Andrew Carmellini, who had been the popular chef de cuisine at Café Boulud. It was one of the biggest hits of 2006, scoring three stars from Frank Bruni and another from Michelin. The restaurant is full almost every night of the week. I had wanted to visit a lot sooner, but it never seemed to be available when I was. When I saw that a 6:15 p.m. slot was available on Sunday evening, I grabbed it.

My friend and I started with the duck meatballs ($15), which every reviewer has raved about. They are indeed a tasty delight, but I must say that neither of us could find any trace of the foie gras that the servers insist is in there. A pork chop with onion glazing ($30), one of the daily specials, was done to perfection. My friend ordered the braised short ribs, at $39 the most expensive entree (unless you’re having the truffle tasting). The preparation was certainly first-rate, although it seemed to me a bit over-priced, in that the best short ribs in town, at Café Gray, are “only” $38.

The price of the short ribs, however, had nothing on the wine list, which featured many bottles over $1,000, and tons more well over $100. For a casual restaurant where the waiters wear dockers, it seemed to us incongruous. I did finally settle on a pinot noir a shade under $50. I was quite irritated to find that the restaurant kept the open bottle on a serving station, out of my reach. I generally prefer to control a bottle that I’ve paid for, especially when the serving staff are going to disappear for long stretches—as they do when A Voce gets busy.

For dessert, I ordered a maple-walnut cheesecake ($10), which seemed more like a parfait. As I see it, the word “cheesecake” conveys definite meaning, and restaurants shouldn’t be putting it on their menu unless they intend to serve something at least approximating a cheesecake.

Bread service came in the form of addictive warm home-made bread and olive oil, although there wasn’t enough of the latter.

Although the menu is expensive, the atmosphere at A Voce is informal. The space is attractively decorated, and the swivel chairs are quite comfortable. But the tables are fairly close together, the noise level builds rapidly, and the serving staff gets a little stretched as the restaurant fills up. Andrew Carmellini’s upscale Italian cuisine is wonderful, but he hasn’t really provided the elegant stage on which it deserves to shine.

A Voce (41 Madison Avenue at 26th Street, Flatiron District)

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

Periyali

My friend and I have often walked by Periyali on W. 20th Street, always on the way to somewhere else. Periyali has been a bastion of upscale Greek cuisine since 1987, long before it was fashionable. It’s one of those restaurants that flies under the radar — a place that can usually wait for another day. Last night, we decided to give it a try.

Coincidentally, we both landed on identical choices: the fried calamari to start ($11) and the braised lamb shank ($26). The breaded calamari was competently prepared, but I found the garlic dipping sauce and accompanying green salad totally forgettable. The lamb shank was a hefty portion and beautifully done. You hardly needed a knive (always the test with braised meats). The accompanying orzo in a light tomato sauce was a welcome bonus. Homemade bread with olive oil would be welcome on my table any day.

The wine list is a mix of Greek and world wines (mostly France and America). I didn’t trust my ability to pick a Greek wine, so I chose a Francis Coppola Syrah at $40. I don’t usually buy wines named for celebrities, but this one was a winner. In this kind of restaurant, I’m always happy to find a good choice available that doesn’t ask for a major investment.

The space at Periyali instantly transports you to the Greek islands, with its billowing white fabrics on the ceiling and colorful banquettes. I would highly recommend it for a romantic getaway. The storefront is narrow, but goes very deep. It was not full (we were seated immediately without a reservation), but clearly doing a strong business on a Thursday night. There’s an outdoor garden (which I didn’t check out), but on this unusually balmy November evening the French doors at the front were open, and a large party was dining outside.

Service was just fine. I can’t remember the last time a manager made so many trips to the table to check if we were happy. He must have checked up on us at least three or four times.

Eighteen months ago, Frank Bruni wrote, “Nothing at Periyali proves hugely intriguing. Nothing wows,” but awarded two stars, adding that “the little touches add up slowly and nicely.” He suggested it was a forerunner to Molyvos and Thalassa. Maybe, but those other restaurants have surpassed it. Still, Periyali does a competent job, and it’s worth a look if you’re already in the neighborhood.

Periyali (35 W. 20th Street between Fifth & Sixth Avenues, Flatiron District)

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

Fleur de Sel

Note: Fleur de Sel closed on February 21, 2009. Chef Cyril Renaud plans to focus on his casual restaurant nearby, Bar Breton.

*

I had dinner at Fleur de Sel on Christmas Eve a few years ago. It didn’t wow me. Like other expensive restaurant dinners I’ve had at holiday times, it seemed mass-produced and over-priced. But with Fleur de Sel winning a Michelin star for the second year in a row, I thought it was time to give it another chance and was very glad I did.

Dinner at Fleur de Sel is $79 for a three-course prix fixe, which we had. Also available are a six-course tasting menu (with two choices for most courses) at $87, and the chef’s tasting menu (number of courses not specified) at $112.

The evening’s only dud was my appetizer choice: Maine Lobster salad, with truffle mayonaise and Asian pair ($5 suppl.). I found the cold lobster thin and flavorless. My mom and my girlfriend both had the goat cheese and artichoke ravioli topped with caviar. Both of them gave me a taste, and it was outstanding. The kitchen sent out a a trio of crabmeat pancakes as a bonus mid-course, which were also excellent.

We went our own ways for the main course. I had the crispy poussin, with organic arugula, wild mushrooms, and foie gras emulsion. This was the best poultry dish I’ve had since the bluefoot chicken at Alain Ducasse. The crispness of the skin and the tenderness of the flesh inside were a perfect contrast. My mom ordered the Atlantic Halibut, and my girlfriend the Duo of Lamb ($6 suppl.), and both pronounced themselves delighted.

A roasted fig dessert (which two of us had) was wonderful, as was a chocolate tart. A complimentary order of the raspberry feulletteé with white chocolate and caramel ganache was also sent out for us to share.

The wine list is rather expensive. Many pages have no choices under $125; bottles under $75 are scarce. I was happy with a Chateauneuf du Pape at $80, but I don’t think it would hurt to offer a few choices at lower prices. In an unusual arrangement, open bottles for the whole restaurant are kept on a table in the center of the room. We found this annoying, as we are quite capable of refilling our own glasses, and would prefer to do so at our own convenience, rather than a server’s.

The space at Fleur de Sel has a quiet, comfortable elegance. The décor is understated, but arguably a bit bland. The restaurant was less than half full on a Sunday night. Indeed, there was only one other occupied table when we arrived at about 6:20, although it had started to fill up nicely by the time we left.

Fleur de Sel (5 East 20th Street between 5th Avenue & Broadway, Flatiron District)

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

Lonesome Dove Western Bistro

Note: The Lonesome Dove Western Bistro closed in March 2007, not long after it had opened, after receiving mostly terrible reviews.

*

The Lonesome Dove Western Bistro carries a 27 out of 30 Zagat food rating in Dallas. If it were in New York, that would put Lonesome Dove on a par with such standouts as Alain Ducasse, Chanterelle, Gotham Bar & Grill, Masa, and Veritas.

Celebrity chef Tim Love has opened a New York branch of the Lonesome Dove. His version of western cooking is fun, but the restaurant is befuddled with service problems and has already received one pan at the hands of the Post’s Steve Cuozzo. Based on our experience last night, I suspect more are coming. [Update: The critics did indeed give the Lonesome Dove a thrashing, with both Adam Platt (NY Mag) and Frank Bruni (NY Times) awarding zero stars.]

The signature dish is called the Tomahawk Chop, a portion for two that includes a 24–30 oz ribeye with an 18-inch “tomahawk” bone (Love designed the cut himself), a lobster tail, seared scallops, yukon gold mashed potatoes, and baby asparagus. The menu doesn’t show a price, a conceit whose absurdity Frank Bruni has already pointed out. Are they hoping people will order it without realizing they’re on the hook for $125? [Update: Per Bruni, the restaurant denied they were trying to trick anyone. The price ($120) is now printed on the menu.]

Anyhow, we already knew the price and were happy to give the Tomahawk Chop a try. There is nothing subtle about Love’s cooking. The scallops, asparagus and steak were slathered in butter. Did such a heavily marbled cut as ribeye need any more fat? I wasn’t sure what Love did to make the mashed potatoes and the lobster so spicy, but they both packed plenty of heat. Even a margarita came laced with jalapeño peppers. The whole meal was solidly prepared, if not transcendent.

The staff at Lonesome Dove are enthusiastic about the food, and they don’t hesitate to tell you so. Their enthusiasm doesn’t translate into good service. It took ages to order a drink at the bar. Getting a bar tab also took forever (they would not transfer it to the table), and finally I just plopped down cash. Once seated, we asked for tap water, but none arrived. Our server asked us about water again later on, having completely forgotten that we’d already asked for it. We ordered wine; a few minutes later, she was back to clarify what bottle we wanted. A wonderful warm homemade bread was served with butter, but no butter knife.

We had probably the worst seat in the house, looking directly into the open kitchen. We don’t blame the restaurant for this—after all, someone has to sit there. But if the kitchen is open, it ought to be neat. What we saw was a cluttered mess. A server dropped a pair of tongs; she picked them up, shrugged her shoulders, and took them out to the dining room to serve food with. Another server appeared to sneeze into a customer’s water glass. The washroom clearly hadn’t been cleaned in hours, as used towels had overflowed the wastebasket and were covering the floor.

All of the chefs wear cowboy hats, including Love, who was in the house. Our server boasted that if we ordered the Tomahawk Chop, Love himself would personally carve it for us tableside. Someone carved it for us, but not Love. (We did see him carve a steak at one table, and share a glass of tequila with friends at another.) I couldn’t care less who carves my steak, but servers shouldn’t be selling an audience with the Great Man unless he is able to follow through. The server at our table didn’t even leave that gorgeous 18-inch bone behind for us to admire; at another table, they did.

Chef Love takes credit for the décor, but it’s nothing to be proud of. There’s a cowskin carpet outside, a stuffed buffalo head on the back wall, some cheesy watercolor paintings, and a lot of exposed brick. The ugly space is at war with the false elegance of the white tablecloths. The wine list is a serious one, but it’s presented as loose sheets fastened to a clipboard. In everything it does, Lonesome Dove fails as a fancy restaurant, but it also fails as a rustic cowboy restaurant.

There is much that is clever in Tim Love’s cuisine. I’d love to come back and try the prairie butter (buffalo bone marrow), the kangaroo nachos, the quail quesedillas, the deer chops, the wild boar foreshank, or the stuffed tenderloin. But what Love clearly needs is a service manager—someone who will whip the lackadaisical staff into shape. As we were leaving, we asked for business cards. The hostess produced a card for the Dallas restaurant’s beverage director, wrote a New York number in pencil (having first looked it up on a computer screen), then handed it to us. Doesn’t that sloppiness just sum up what’s wrong with the Lonesome Dove?

Lonesome Dove Western Bistro (29 W. 21st St. between Fifth & Sixth Avenues, Flatiron District)

Food: *
Service: needs a ton of work
Ambiance: unimpressive
Overall: * (just barely)

Update: The restaurant closed in early March 2007. Tim Love contacted me by email shortly before the restaurant folded. He said:

In your review of my restaurant you do not make one comment on the flavor, texture or presentation of the food. While you did comment on the water color paintings (which are actually oil), the buffalo head (which is actually a Hereford steer) and a clipboard for a wine list (which is actually a cowhide mounted with saddle spurs made by one of the most famous saddle makers in the world, Leddy’s).

Love conceded that service was sub-par in the restaurant’s early days, though he insisted the problems had since been fixed. He felt that I, like other reviewers, were criticizing West-of-Mississippi cuisine without having any basis for evaluating it. He thought it was like dining at Lupa, and comparing it to a sushi bar.

Love’s message gave no hint that the restaurant was about to close, but as the announcement came just a few days later, clearly he must have known. He probably thought that the New York critics were out to get him. Truthfully, I wanted to like the Lonesome Dove. I just wasn’t wowed, particularly given the sloppy service and stratospheric prices.

Barbounia

In his review of Barbounia, Frank Bruni’s most gushing praise was reserved for something critics usually don’t talk about: the seats. Yes, Barbounia has the most comfortable seating of any restaurant in New York—or any I’ve tried, at any rate.

On Memorial Day, the restaurant was only sparsely populated, and the staff invited us to choose our own table. Although we found Barbounia comfortable on both the eyes and the arses, the dining experience was mediocre.

I started with Saganaki ($13) — baked cheese, truffled fig marmalade, fresh fruit, fresh baked cherry and walnut breads. I was thinking of a baked cheese dish that I’d ordered in Greektown in Detroit, but this was a pale shadow of it. After a couple of bites, the cheese quickly became sticky and dull to the taste. Halibut with fava beans ($26, I believe) was competently prepared. My friend seemed to have the better of it with three juicy pieces of rack of lamb.

The wine list was featuring white wines of Santorini, a small Greek island of which I have distant but fond memories. Alas, both the first and the second Santorini wine I selected were out of stock. (“We’re re-configuring our wine list,” the server said, a process that evidently involves restocking, but not reprinting.) Pressing my luck, I gave a third choice, which they were finally able to produce. It was astringent and overly acidic. I don’t know if that’s Santorini’s fault, or if my first choice would have been better.

The befuddled serving staff was persistently confused about silverware. They gave me the steak knife and my friend the fish knife for our entrees. After we were finished, they dropped off clean forks and steak knives for both of us, although we hadn’t ordered any dessert. A few moments later, they were taken away.

In a neighborhood that has plenty of excellent dining options, we won’t be rushing back to Barbounia.

Barbounia (250 Park Avenue South at 20th Street, Flatiron District)

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

SAPA

Note: SAPA closed during the summer of 2008. The space re-opened as Nuela.

*

The restaurant SAPA’s blurb on the OpenTable website leads you to expect that shotgun wedding of culinary styles that is usually called “fusion”:

Sapa; it’s namesake, an incredibly picturesque village that lies on the Hoang Lien Son mountain range near the Chinese border in NW Vietnam, was built by the French in 1922. Sapa marries the two cuisines under one roof, but not on the plate. The food embodies modern interpretations of Vietnamese dishes with an emphasis on share styled plates as to conform to the Vietnamese style dining and the French cuisine expresses versions of classic bistro and brasserie dishes.

The menu has evidently undergone some refinement since Frank Bruni was there in January 2005. Its length so offended him that it became the theme of his review, “So Many Dishes! A Little Help, Please.” As presented last night, SAPA’s menu did not appear overly long, and some of the specific dishes mentioned in the review are now gone. The alleged French bistro/brasserie influence is largely a phantom. Actually, I had forgotten Bruni’s review entirely, but I was looking for a dining spot in Chelsea on a Sunday evening, and SAPA caught my eye.

The gorgeous AvroKo-designed space is modern, sleek, and sexy. You know you’re in for an Asian-themed eclectic menu when you find both chopsticks and Western utensils at the table. To start, I decided to try the Spicy Tuna Rolls ($10). There were two rolls, about three-inches long and as thick as a cigar, and they came with three dipping sauces. Perhaps “tangy” would have been a better name than “spicy,” but whatever the name they were very good.

I was even more impressed with Cod Roasted in Parchment ($32). You expect fish cooked in parchment to retain its moisture (as this one did), but you don’t expect the combination with porcini butter, roasted mushrooms, and pureed potato to deliver such an effective flavor punch. This was one of the more delightful fish preparations I’ve had in quite some time.

My friend had a duck salad ($12) and stir-fry chicken ($25), and she appeared to be equally satisfied. Service was friendly and efficient. The restaurant appeared to be doing a decent business for a Sunday night, although they were well under half full.

SAPA (43 W. 24th Street, east of Sixth Avenue, Chelsea)

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

The Dining Room at Country

Note: Click here for a more recent visit to Country.

Like a number of upscale restaurants (Gramercy Tavern, Aquavit, Jean Georges, The Modern, BLT Fish), Geoffrey Zakarian’s new restaurant Country has an upscale dining room attached to an informal sister establishment that offers a similar but less elaborate menu in humbler surroundings. My friend and I tried the Café at Country a few months ago, and we weren’t impressed. It was loud, uncomfortable, and pretentious.

But we knew that the main Dining Room was designed to offer a far more luxurious experience, so we were willing to entirely forget our unpleasant memory of the Café downstairs. I should add that, despite Frank Bruni’s imprecise co-mingling of the two in his three-star review, the Dining Room and the Café should be thought of as entirely separate restaurants under one roof.

Your choices in the Dining Room include an $85 four-course prix fixe, a five-course tasting menu at $110, and a seven-course tasting menu at $145. We were in a celebratory mood, and chose the seven-course tasting. Our server then asked us which dishes from the à la carte menu we wanted included — a flexibility I don’t recall at any other restaurant that offered a tasting menu. We named four particular items that interested us. Our server advised that he would confer with the kitchen, and in fact all of our choices were included in the meal.

I didn’t take detailed notes, and the online menu is outdated, so I can describe our experience only in general terms. There was a trio of amuses to start, of which the most memorable was a gougère filled with spinach. Another amuse was a delectable miniature poultry leg (I’m not sure of which bird). Perhaps I am forgetting a third amuse course. Along the way, we received a melt-in-your-mouth parker house roll with soft butter.

Our seven course meal consisted of the following:

1. Foie gras terrine
2. Grilled white asparagus
3. Shrimp ravioli
4. Crisp Berkshire pork
5. Bison filet
6. Cheese course
   (Palate cleanser)
7. Hot apple crisp
   (Petits fours)

This was the best meal I have had in the last twelve months. While both Per Se and Alain Ducasse offered individual courses that were superior to anything at Country, each of them had at least one course that I rated—in relation to the price range—a disappointment. But there were no disappointments at Country, nor anything even remotely close to it. Just one outstanding preparation after another. We kept thinking, “It can’t last; there must be a dud.” But there wasn’t.

Service was highly attentive and nearly impeccable. We were also impressed with the timing of the courses, which came neither too quickly nor too slowly. I would have liked a bit more time to relax after our cocktails, but as the overall meal was spaced over nearly three hours, I could hardly call it a rush job.

The wine staff upsells a bit too aggressively. When we asked the sommelier for a bottle of red under $100, her recommendation (a wonderful burgundy) came in at $110. We could, of course, have refused, but I suspect she realized that we weren’t going to quibble over $10. And when our foie gras arrived, we were asked if we’d like a glass of sauterne to go with it. (Even downstairs, the waitstaff on our previous visit had done the same.) With our still-unfinished cocktails and the just-opened burgundy already on the table, this would have been more alcohol than the table would bear, and we declined.

The Dining Room was formerly the hotel ballroom. It retains the original beaux arts tile floor and a gorgeous tiffany skylight, and is open to the lobby below. The period details are wonderful, but as the hard tile floor reflects sound, the restaurant is just a touch noisier than I would like. Somewhat in compensation, the tables are generously spaced.

It would take many more visits to determine whether Country is a four-star restaurant. But as I rate this one meal at least as highly as those I enjoyed at Alain Ducasse and Per Se, for now Country is four stars in my book.

Country (90 Madison Ave at 29th St, in the Carleton Hotel, Flatiron District)

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

Craft

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Craft.

Craft is one of New York’s iconic restaurants. The name “Craft” was suggested by chef Tom Colicchio’s concept of preparing “expert ingredients, expertly and simply.” Colicchio adds that “simple doesn’t mean simplistic.” It is, in other words, the “craft” of getting the simple things right. Trite, perhaps, but it has been a huge and much-imitated success. Craftbar in Manhattan and Craftsteak in Las Vegas are popular spin-offs, and a new branch of Craftsteak is opening on Tenth Avenue later this spring.

As originally conceived, the name “Craft” also meant that the diner would design the meal, choosing from among a variety of ingredients, sauces, and cooking styles. It was probably the original restaurant where servers would begin with, “Let me explain how our menu works.” Colicchio soon found that diners weren’t interested in quite so much freedom, and Craft’s menu is no longer so complex. However, side dishes and accompaniments are still extra at Craft, as they’ve always been, and the bill can mount in a hurry.

My friend and I had dinner at Craft a couple of weeks ago. We had a wonderful time, although we concluded that the restaurant is, perhaps, a touch overrated. We started with the foie gras terrine ($24) and the roasted quail ($14). Everything at Craft is served family style, and two appetizers are more than enough for two people. We were especially struck by the ample foie gras portion—two hefty discs that resembled slender hockey pucks. It was superb, to be sure, but required a little more of the wonderful toast that came with it. The quail, too, was excellent.

We wondered whether a Côte de Boeuf, at $125, could possibly be worth it. Concluding that we weren’t willing to spend that much to find out, we went with a more modest choice, the braised veal shank ($75), which is a portion for two. As one would expect for a braised meat, it fell off the bone at the touch of a fork, and was perfectly prepared.

We ordered a side of the gnocchi ($10). Our waiter seemed aghast: “Just one side?” We stuck to our guns, and good thing too, because we were plenty full and were unable to finish the gnocchi, which was chewy and over-salted.

The dessert menu is confusing. There are six sorbets and six ice creams listed. Below these, it reads: “Ice Cream & Sorbet Sampler. 6./12.” So, what do you get for $6, and what do you get for $12? When our server heard that we were both interested in the sampler, he advised, “In that case, you can get one of each.” We didn’t ask him to specify what that meant.

Promptly, $24 worth of ice cream and sorbet arrived, and there were full scoops of each flavor. One must assume that this was a greedy waiter who eagerly seized on an opportunity to pad the bill, as no one could sensibly believe that two people could polish off that much ice cream and sorbet. Indeed, a party of four most likely wouldn’t have finished it.

At Craft, wine selections under $50 are few and far between. We settled on a Cadence Coda 2003 at $60, which was terrific. Service was solid, aside from a couple of attempts at bill-padding. The ambiance is upscale, but casual. The tables are both large and well spaced. The final bill for two was $229 before tip.

Craft (43 E. 19th St. between Park Ave South & Broadway, Gramercy/Flatiron)

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

Tabla

Note: Tabla closed at the end of 2010.

I’ve never ordered a tasting menu that didn’t have at least one dud—even at Per Se. That changed on Saturday evening, when my friend and I ordered the five-course tasting at Tabla. This was a culinary exercise in near-perfection, from beginning to end.

Tabla is a bit difficult to characterize. Downstairs, there is a “bread bar” that serves conventional Indian food. The main restaurant borrows ideas from many cuisines, with only the slightest hint of Indian spices. (The Michelin Guide was thoroughly stumped; they branded the cuisine “Contemporary,” the same pigeon-hole as Alain Ducasse.)

Tabla offers three dinner options: a prix fixe at $64 (you choose one appetizer, one entree, and one dessert from a fairly long list of choices); a five-course winter tasting menu at $79 (optional wine pairing, $38); or, an eight-course market tasting menu at $92 (optional wine pairing, $48).

We chose the five-course winter tasting menu with the wine pairings, which included the following:

Sweet Maine Shrimp & Fluke Cru
Lime, Cider & Toasted Spices
Champagne Brut Reserve, Biillecart Salmon (Mareuil-Sur-Ay, France) NV

Rice Flaked Turbot
Baby Spinach, Applewood Smoked Bacon and Jaggery-Tamarind Glaze
Sémillon, The Willows Vinyard (Barossa Valey, Australia) 2002

Slow Roasted Nova Scotia Lobster
Yellowfoot chanterelles, Water Chestnuts & Walnuts
Viura, Cune, Blanco Seco Monopole (Rioja, Spain) 2002

Challan Duck Two Ways
Braised Endive, Horseradish, Orange Curry
Chiraz, 3-Rings (Barossa Valley, Australia) 2004

Apple Tarte Tatin
Greenmarket Quince Membrillo, Mutsu Apple Fritter
Gewürtztraminer, Kent Rasmussen Late Harvest (Sonoma County, CA) 2003

Petits Fours, Coffee and Tabla’s Teas

(The above is from Tabla’s website, which appears to be up-to-date. I cannot swear that we had those exact wines, but I believe we did.)

The first course (Sweet Maine Shrimp & Fluke Cru) was a daring winter choice, as it was served cold. However, it worked in the context of the overall meal. The Rice Flaked Turbot was one of the top fish courses I’ve had anywhere. The duck was tender and hearty. If I had to deduct a half-point, it would be for the lobster, which was ever so slightly tough.

I was particularly impressed by the wine pairing. The wines were all a bit off the beaten path, but went perfectly with the food. And we had five glasses of well contrasted wines for $38. It has got to be one of the better deals around.

The layout at Tabla is a bit unusual. The fine dining restaurant is upstairs, but it is partly open to the floor below, and some of the sound from the bar drifts into the dining space. There is an attempt at elegance, and the tables are generously spaced, but I found it a bit chilly—and not only metaphorically; I regretted not bringing a sweater.

There is no flaw in the service, however, which is polished and efficient. Overall, this was one of the finest meals I have had in New York over the past year.

Tabla (11 Madison Avenue at 25th Street, Flatiron District)

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