Willow Road

Note: Willow Road closed in November 2014. It turned into a private event space for Toro, its nearby sister restaurant.

*

Willow Road has been open since early December in the old John Dory space, sandwiched between Colicchio & Sons and Del Posto. Why the Dory failed here remains a mystery to me, but the venue stood vacant for more than three years.

The new owners, coming from a nightlife background, have decidedly modest ambitions. They brought in Todd Macdonald, a former chef at Cru, and Grayson Schmitz, a former Top Cheftestant, to serve a bunch of comfort-food dishes that look like Quick Fire challenges. Open till 3:00 am, it’s a boozier, less elaborate Stanton Social.

The menu is organized around “Bites” ($6–9), Small Plates ($12–18), Large Plates ($15–34), and Side Dishes ($8). The server pushed us to over-order, but we held firm at two small and two large plates, which was enough for us, but might not be for you. I suspect many of the guests here will be visiting more than one dining/boozing location in an evening. Two plates a person is probably enough.

 

The Spiced Lamb Burger Bites ($12; above left) are excellent, and were gone far too quickly. As always, these sharing establishments send out three pieces for a party of two. I’d much rather have a second order of those than the very dull Duck Confit Salad ($16; above right).

 

Buttermilk Fried Chicken ($18; above left) is coated in an appealing crust of jerk spices and orange blossom honey. The plate looks small in the photo, but there are three pieces there. Mac N’ Cheese ($15; above right) is deceptively named. The noodles are more like half-length penne tubes, with an appealing mix of sweet sausage, lemon, fennel pollen, and parsley. It’s probably too cloying to order for yourself, but very good to share.

Three out of four items were just fine, bearing in mind the restaurant’s low aims. The menu is fairly small, with just nine “bites” and small plates, and just eight of the larger ones. It’s not upscale, but it’s not entirely cliché either, as such places often can be.

They’ve redone the space admirably, with reclaimed wood, subway tile, and a terrific hand-painted mural depicting the neighborhood by James Gulliver Hancock. We were seated at a two-top, but there’s also an ample bar and at least one long communal table. The scene is louder than I’d like, but the oldies sound track was palatable.

The staff paid plenty of attention to us; coats were checked and reclaimed efficiently. Although the “sharing plates” meme feels outdated already, at least the food was sent out in a logical order, and not all at once. You can never take that for granted at these establishments.

I can’t imagine what would bring us back to Willow Road, but for its intended audience it’s pretty good. The space was hopping on a Wednesday evening. If the management can keep people coming back, they might have something going.

Willow Road (85 Tenth Ave between 15th & 16th Streets, Chelsea)

Food: Stoner cuisine, re-imagined
Service: Attentive and well managed
Ambiance: A gastro-bar, with the emphasis on “bar”

Rating: ★
Why? Satisfies a need for the area; not worth going out of the way

Marble Lane

Note: This is a review under chef Manuel Treviño, who left the restaurant in May 2013. It later closed entirely and re-opened in January 2014 as Bodega Negra, a Mexican street food spot.

*

I’ve been trying to reduce my percentage of wasted restaurant meals—the places (usually newer ones) that I try, “just because they are there.” But some odd impulse last week brought me to Marble Lane at the Dream Hotel, a venue I should easily have guessed would be terrible.

The clues of a big-time fail are abundant, from the location slightly north of the Meatpacking District, to the heavy breathing from Eater’s Scott Solish when it opened. In charge are the same folks who created the money-printing machine (and culinary mediocrity) Tao, following it up with the even more dreadful Lavo.

As chef, they hired Manuel Treviño, who was famous for fifteen minutes on Top Chef (Season 4: eliminated after four episodes); then ran the now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t restaurant Travertine; and then moved to the aforementioned Lavo, where Sam Sifton goose-egged him. If you’re running Marble Lane, he’s just the guy you want. Right?

There’s a vaguely steak-focused “international menu,” and Grub Street tells us: “each steak will have its own twist.” Oh, dear. Prices are are in a wide range, but high, with appetizers $10–22, non-steak entrées $21–28, steaks (aged prime and “American Kobe”) $30–65, and sides $9–10.

On the wine list, it’s hard to do business below $60 a bottle. Cocktails, ranging from $14–16, are also on the expensive side. It all adds up, and before you’re done you’ve spent $100 or more a head for mediocre food.

Calamari ($18; above left), served as an appetizer, were rubbery.

Entrée portions are ample. If they aren’t great, they aren’t bad either: Loup de Mere ($25; above left), Romanian Skirt Steak ($39; above right). The latter is the same cut they serve at Sammy’s Romanian, but better quality (claimed to be American Kobe). It was an enormous portion I couldn’t finish. In a nicer room, I wouldn’t have minded it.

But Sammy’s at least has personality. Marble Lane is a cookie-cutter hotel restaurant, looking for a party that hasn’t started yet, and probably never will. Reservations are available any day, any time. The dining room was empty when I arrived, but it didn’t stop the hostess from administering this cold greeting: “Let me know when your guest is here and I’ll have you guys sat.”

There were no seats at the bar, so I trundled off to the charmless lounge, where I waited (and waited) for a server to notice me. Attractive twenty-somethings in tight black dresses walked by, skipping the restaurant and headed for one of the hotel’s various lounges.

Later this fall, the Spanish chef Miguel Romera is planning to open a restaurant in this same hotel, where he’ll charge $245 for a prix fixe tasting menu. I have no idea whether his food is worth that much. He earned two Michelin stars in Spain, so I give him the benefit of the doubt. But among those who are willing to drop that much coin on a meal, who would do so at this dismal hotel? I wish him good luck with that.

Marble Lane (355 W. 16th St between 8th & 9th Avenues, in the Dream Hotel)

Food: Satisfactory
Service: Fair
Ambiance: Poor
Overall: Fair

Update: Fatty Crab

I had dinner with a friend on Sunday evening at the West Village Fatty Crab. I’ve written about both Manhattan Fatty Crabs before (here, here), and my opinion of the franchise remains the same: very good food, poor service.

It seems to me that at $111 for two people (before tax and tip), replacing silverware and plates between courses ought to be automatic, not something you have to ask for. And the least they could do is to reprint an outdated menu that is dog-eared from over-use.

That $111 bill, by the way, included a $40 bottle of Tempranillo that paired well with the food. But most of the wine selections were well above $50 a bottle.

What saves Fatty Crab, and the reason I would still go back if I’m in the neighborhood, is that the food remains complelling, even if overpriced: $13 for two small pork buns? $12 for a bowl of broccoli? A dish new to me was a wonderful deep fried whole striped bass ($24).

The restaurant was full on a Sunday evening, which means that Zak Pelaccio has no reason to change.

Fatty Crab (643 Hudson St., btwn Gansevoort & Horatio Sts., West Village)

MPD

Note: MPD closed in 2012. The space is now Bubby’s High Line.

*

Here is one big hint that the new restaurant MPD probably wasn’t built for guys like me: I thought the name stood for Meatpacking District.

Florence Fabricant of the Times set me straight: it’s Mon Petit Déjeuner, which is French for my breakfast. The restaurant does not currently serve breakfast (the website indicates it eventually will), and how many of its likely patrons knew that anyway?

Perhaps the name is meant to be taken ironically. After a night of club-hopping, regulars will feel like breakfast, and MPD will be there for them.

MPD’s backers, Derek and Daniel Koch, are known mainly as nightlife mavens. They also have an investment from the Ginza Project, the Russians behind Mari Vanna. A French bistro might not be what you expected from this crew.

MPD is a much better restaurant than it needs to be. It won’t put Pastis out of business, although perhaps it deserves to. It serves solid bistro fare in a pretty room that that, unlike many in the area, doesn’t seem over-built. Service is civilized. You can carry on a conversation, you won’t be sitting in your neighbor’s lap, and you won’t be overrun with tourists.

Those things are all worth cheering about.

Prices are in a wide range, but a shade on the high side, with appetizers $9–19 (caviar service, $215), entrées $19–38, and sides $7–9.

I am assuming the bread basket was outsourced, but the dinner rolls were just fine, served with a plate of olive oil, into which the restaurant’s name had been “drawn” (see photo).

Both dishes I tried were what you want French bistro food to be: hearty, flavorful, solidly prepared. I loved the pork confit ($14; above left) with pickled cauliflower—nothing complicated, but the pork was nicely done. Crab Cakes Benedict ($27; above right) were offered as a special; perhaps another pun on the breakfast theme. I don’t remember seeing that before as a dinner entrée. I would be happy to have it again.

At 6:30 p.m. on a Friday evening, the restaurant was practically empty, except for the small bar up front. There were only three or four parties seated by the time I left, but it was clearly a very early hour for the area. Service was attentive, but it is not difficult to look after the only customer in the restaurant. There were a lot of staff on the floor; presumably, the “party” gets started much later on.

In a neighborhood where restaurants tend to be more functional than useful, MPD is a worthy addition. You’re not likely to find me there to sweat off a hangover. As a drop-in place after work, I’d be happy to add it to my rotation.

MPD (73 Gansevoort Street at Washington Street, Meatpacking District)

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

Abe & Arthur's

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tanuki Tavern

Note: Tanuki Tavern closed in May 2012. It will be replaced by Toy, a new concept and menu from the same owner, Jeffrey Chodorow. The countdown on its eventual closure begins in 5, 4, 3, 2,….

*

When maestro of mediocrity Jeffrey Chodorow replaced his Meatpacking District Japanese restaurant Ono with Tanuki Tavern, I did not rush to dine there. His restaurants are never great, and often suck. Nobody in this town has had so many restaurants spectacularly flame out. How is he still in business?

Coverage on Eater.com made Tanuki Tavern sound more like a gimmick than a serious restaurant. When I learned that the menu would have 70 items, I was not impressed. In the Times, Sam Sifton awarded one star, which is one more than I figured it would get.

The excuse to try Tanuki Tavern came last weekend, when my son was in town and my original dining plans fell through. Much to my surprise, Tanuki Tavern is decent. Actually, it is not bad.

That epic-length menu is mostly Japanese, hedging itself as only Chodorow can, with nine categories, and interlopers like a Pat LaFreida burger and a Creekstone Farms bone-in steak. Many dishes are cross-overs not found on most Japanese menus, like Tuna Sliders and Spicy French Fries.

Aside from the steak ($58), nothing is very expensive. Three appetizers (“snacks” in Chod-speak) and a plate of rolls were $67. It was hard to tell how much food to order, which is surely what the Chod-meister wants, as you are encouraged to spend in excess; fortunately, it was exactly the right amount.

There are no great discoveries here (you knew that, right?), but everything was enjoyable.

Fish & Chips ($9; above left) were exactly what you’d expect. Flecks of yuzu in the tartar sauce were the only connection to the restaurant’s Japanese theme. We loved the Tori Dongo ($7; above right), three chicken meatballs in rice crust with spicy ponzu.

If you grill chicken wings with citrus salt, the result is Tebayaki ($9; above left), and it was very good indeed. The four half-rolls we tried (above right), ranging from $7 to $14 apiece, were on the level of any decent neighborhood sushi place.

Chodorow did a nice job with the rehab, making Tanuki Tavern seem a lot less cavernous and corporate than Ono. Actually, you don’t feel like you’re in the Meatpacking District, which is an accomplishment.

The sushi chefs are Japanese, but none of the servers are. The restaurant is not full, and yet, when you need them they aren’t around. Plates that clearly call for silverware are initially served without any. An empty glass goes unnoticed. When you do get the servers’ attention, they are friendly and efficient. And at least you never want for paper napkins, which are rolled up and kept in a mug by the side of the table.

One wonders how long it will be before Tanuki Tavern joins the Chodorow restaurant cemetery. On a Saturday evening at 7:30 p.m., just a few tables were occupied. It was about half full when we left, and clearly not setting the world afire. There was an unusual abundance of all-girl parties and families with children. This kind of patronage is fleeting. If Chodorow has another restaurant concept up his sleeve, he might as well start getting it ready.

But in the meantime, Tanuki Tavern feels a lot less cynical than many of its Meatpacking District brethren, despite the over-reaching Chod-speak menu. I wouldn’t mind going back.

Tanuki Tavern (18 Ninth Avenue at 13th Street, Meatpacking District)

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

Colicchio & Sons

Note: Colicchio & Sons closed in September 2016 after six years in business. Tom Colicchio did not state his reasons, but he told The Times that “the last couple of years had been difficult for the restaurant.” Oddly, he also said that this was “the first restaurant I actually opened and closed,” having forgotten Craftsteak, the previous restaurant to occupy this space.

We did not think Colicchio & Sons deserved the three stars that Sam Sifton gave it.” To be fair, Tom Colicchio is good at running restaurants, and the place may have improved over time. Either way, Colicchio & Sons had been out of the media conversation for the last several years. It would not surprise me to learn that bookings were down.

*

I have often said that steakhouses are practically the most fool-proof restaurant concept that there is. Well, practically. Tom Colicchio proved that even a smart guy can botch a steakhouse, when he opened Craftsteak in 2006. Reviews were not good, and Colicchio was charging at least $10 a steak more than the going rate in Manhattan. A steakhouse can get away with those prices, as the BLT franchise has shown, but the steaks have to be great. Craftsteak’s often weren’t.

Late last year, Colicchio closed Craftsteak, and after the briefest of make-overs, re-opened as Colicchio & Sons. The majority of a $400,000 renovation budget was spent on a new wood-burning oven where the Craftsteak raw bar used to be. The format is startlingly similar to Gramercy Tavern, where Colicchio was founding chef. There’s a casual front room, where reservations aren’t taken, and a more expensive formal dining room—although it is not that formal, as anyone who has been to Craftsteak will recall.

The name is a bit of a dodge, as Colicchio’s sons are too young to work in a restaurant kitchen, or indeed anywhere. He has explained in various interviews that the restaurant is an attempt to get back to his culinary roots. Here, he serves composed plates, as he did at Gramercy Tavern, rather than the à la carte family-style dishes of the Craft restaurants.

The food in the dining room is expensive, with appetizers $12–22 and entrées $27–36. (The more rustic “Tap Room” has dishes ranging from $9–23.) That’s less than you would have spent at Craftsteak, but still well above mid-priced. At this tariff, the food needs to be terrific. As so often happens, our appetizers lived up to the hype, but the entrées didn’t.

Our meal began with excellent parker-house rolls served in a cast-iron skillet, a feature wisely held over from the Craftsteak days. White Bean Agnolotti with Chorizo, Pork Belly and Octopus ($19; above left) and Foie Gras Torchon with Persimmon and Walnuts ($22; above right) were just about worth what we paid for them.

Chicken “Pot au Feu” ($34; above left) reads well on the menu, but it was a disaster. We noted that an nearby table had ordered this dish, and it arrived cold. Sure enough, ours did too. The fault seemed to lie with the consommé poured tableside. When we complained, they whisked the plate away, but they just put it under a warmer and brought it back to us, this time with no consommeé added in our presence. After all that, the chicken was still lukewarm, and frankly it would not have been a $34 dish even if it were done perfectly. Padma and Gail would have told Tom to pack up his knives and go.

Roasted Rabbit ($32; above right) was at least done correctly, but I’d say there was a $5–10 “Colicchio premium” in the price. Entrées north of $30 need to rise above the routine that just about any chef or restaurant could do. This isn’t a dish that would win Top Chef.

The wine list features an inventory for high rollers held over from Craftsteak, with plenty of bottles in three and four figures. But the sommelier told us that they have been adding less expensive choices. I found a wonderful Douro at $44, obscure enough that most restaurants wouldn’t even have stocked it.

The service was better than you would expect for a three-week-old restaurant, though we assume that most of the staff was retained from Craftsteak. However, there was an uncomfortably long pause between the appetizers and the entrées.

We assume that Colicchio still fancies himself a three-star chef. For now, at least, Colicchio is in the house most evenings, along with Craft chef de cuisine, Damon Wise, and the former Craftsteak chef de cuisine, Shane McBride. That’s a lot of talent in the kitchen. Now they just need to deliver.

Colicchio & Sons (85 Tenth Avenue at 15th Street, Chelsea)

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

The Burger at Gansevoort 69

Note: Gansevoort 69 closed in August 2010. (As often happens, a “temporary closure” for renovations turned out to be permanent.) The owners told the Times that “the diner thing has to go,” apparently oblivious to the fact that the previous restaurant in the space, Florent, had a long and successful run as a diner and would still be in business, but for an economically unsustainable rent hike.

*

Gansevoort 69 would be utterly unremarkable, if not for the reputation of the establishment it replaced, the sainted Florent, which closed last year.

The new place seeks to fill the gap left by Florent’s demise—essentially, a cafeteria to sop up the alcohol after a long night of boozing. It’s open to 6:00 a.m. Thursdays to Saturdays, midnight the rest of the week.

I never dined at Florent, which perhaps says more about my drinking habits than anything else. From all I can tell, Florent was basically a diner serving French and American bistro standards, but it had a cult following. The cult was none too please when the chef, Florent Morellet, was forced out by a rent hike.

The décor has been smartly updated, while retaining the feel of a diner. The old “R & L” signage remains outside—a reminder of what the place was four tenants ago. Reservations are taken on OpenTable, but I’d be surprised if they get much traffic that way. The whole point of Florent was that you could just drop in if you happened to be nearby.

The menu, described as American comfort food, has appetizers and soups ($6–10), salads ($7–16), sandwiches ($12–15), entrées ($8–26), and side dishes ($3–5). In the true diner spirit, breakfast is served anytime. So are cocktails.

There’s an amuse-bouche of tater tots (above right), served with three dipping sauces, to munch on while you wait for your food.

My son and I both had the burger ($12 plus $2 for cheese). I liked the thickness and juiciness, medium rare as we had requested. The beef had a slightly metallic tang, which will keep it out of the pantheon. The fries were just fine.

Gansevoort 69 (69 Gansevoort Street btwn. Greenwich & Washington Streets, Meatpacking District)

Bill's Bar and Burger

Bill’s Bar and Burger is restauranteur Stephen Hanson’s burger joint in the old Hogpit Barbecue space in the Meatpacking District. Burgers are the centerpiece of the menu, which also features hot dogs, wings, fries, and milk shakes. The most expensive item is a Grouper Sandwich ($9.95).

Hanson is the king of low-brow food. Except for the shuttered Fiamma, his restaurants have never been at the vanguard of culinary ingenuity. He sees a trend and figures out how to down-brand it for popular appeal.

So you figured that a Hanson burger joint would at least be competent. The alleged hamburger experts are officially impressed. Mr. Cutlets, A Hamburger Today, Hamburger America, and the BLD Project are all smitten. We’ll let Cutlets’ comments stand as a proxy for all of them:

The Bill’s burger, at least the one I tasted, is the next step in the evolution of mainstream hamburgers. It takes the aggressive “smashing” technique from Steak n Shake and Smashburger, and applies it even more aggressively, and using LaFrieda beef — a rich blend I couldn’t exactly put my finger in, but lush and sweet in a way that suggested lots of brisket. It’s flatter and wider and browner that the Shake Shack, so much so that it hangs outside of the bun. It’s just luscious and enveloping and compuslively edible. And beneath that crust, which is complemented by a butter crisp toasted Arnold’s roll and a slice of deliciously viscous American cheese, is a torrent of juicy, salty, beef flavor that really lets you know you’ve eaten real meat, not just gray burger tissue. The thing is just fantastic, and there is not one weird topping or middlebrow trope anywhere to be seen. Is it too soon for me to say that this is the best hamburger in New York? I don’t think it is. Certainly it’s the best cheap hamburger in New York, if not the world. Daniel Boulud, Josh Capon, Nick Solares from Serious Eats…we all tried it and were knocked out. But better still than the taste was the fact that it was a blow for orthodoxy, and proof that our national sandwich is still best presented unadorned, in all its rude glory.

I don’t get it.

I dropped into Bill’s Bar & Burger the other night and ordered the so-called “Fat Cat” ($6.95) basically a burger topped with caramelized onions, with tomato and pickles on the side. The burger was over-cooked, and what little flavor it had was overwhelmed by the onions. It’s absurd that this is touted as one of the city’s better burgers. It ain’t in the top 50.

It’s not just a question of taste. The photo (above) doesn’t even look attractive. Those on sites like A Hamburger Today aren’t much better.

This tolerable burger was nothing compared to the awful fries ($3.50), which were over-salted and too greasy. What was worse, it appeared I was served a basket made in two separate batches, as some were burnt and others hadn’t been in the fryer long enough.

The beer was pretty good, and so was the service. There were plenty of empty tables at around 6pm, and there were still a few when I left, around 45 minutes later. By 9pm, I understand there was an hour wait. Don’t waste your time.

As I was getting ready to pay the bill, Mr. Cutlets sauntered in. Acted like he owned the place.

Addendum: It took a while, but finally there’s a pro reviewer who agrees with me: Alan Richman in GQ. I was about 90% certain that I spotted Richman there, but I only caught a brief glimpse of him, and wasn’t positive. He actually looked happy, smiling and waving to the staff. They’ll probably be surprised to learn he hated the place.

Bill’s Bar and Burger (22 Ninth Avenue at 13th Street, Meatpacking District)

Halfsteak

Note: Halfsteak, along with is parent restaurant Craftsteak, closed in late 2009. A new restaurant from the same team, Colicchio & Sons, replaced it in early 2010.

*

Not a week goes by without further retrenchment in the restaurant industry. Even Tom Colicchio’s sainted Craft empire is hunkering down for a long recession. This week, the front room at Craftsteak rebranded itself “Halfsteak,” where every dish is under $15.

I’ve visited Craftsteak three times (1, 2, 3), but I’ve been wholly satisfied only once. To be fair, the first two visits were early on, before Colicchio fired the executive chef and bought new broiling equipment. But I continue to read mixed reports, suggesting a visit to Craftsteak is very much a crapshoot. It’s a tough value proposition for a place where almost all steaks are above $50.

I’m not visiting many steakhouses these days. Even if I was, I’d have to think twice before returning to Crafsteak. But the sub-$15 menu at Halfsteak has my attention. This is a place where one doesn’t mind just “dropping in.”

Halfsteak occupies the casual front dining room at Craftsteak. Everything is priced at odd multiples of a half-dollar. Snacks are $6½, salads $7½, small plates $9½, sandwiches $11½, “one-pots” $13½, desserts $4½, and the namesake halfsteak with fries is $14½. [Click on the menu for a larger image.]

The concept extends to cocktails ($7½), half pints of beer ($3½) and wines by the glass ($10½). Even the notoriously exorbitant wine list has been dialed down. There are twenty bottles on offer, all $55 or less (most under $50). The beers are thoughtful choices from small, artisanal producers; not Budweiser and Schlitz.

Craftsteak’s chef de cuisine is Shane McBride. As he did at his short-lived midtown chophouse 7Square, he isn’t afraid to challenge his audience. I am quite sure that fried tripe is not on this menu because there was overwhelming demand for it. Likewise brisket with sauerkraut or a duck confit omelet.

I wasn’t too hungry, so I ordered just two snacks ($6.50 ea.), the Smoked Chicken Wings with White BBQ Sauce (above left) and the Lamb Spare Ribs with Cucumber Raita (above right). The wings were wonderful, perfectly seasoned and slightly spicy. Where on earth did that white barbecue sauce come from? The lamb ribs were slightly dry and not quite warm enough. Total bill with two half-pints of beer: $20.

The restaurant’s two-star service model hasn’t changed. I almost laughed when I asked for a wet-nap to wash my hands after all that finger food, and they brought out a hot towel. Both the main dining room and the front room were doing a respectable business, but neither was full between 7 and 8pm on a Thursday evening.

The current recession has taken its sad toll on many restaurants, but among those that remain open there are many good deals to be had. Halfsteak is one of the best around.

“Halfsteak” (85 Tenth Avenue at 15th Street, Far West Chelsea)