Travertine

Note: Travertine closed in July 2011. The space is now Ken & Cook.

*

Travertine is the new Mediterranean-themed restaurant from Manuel Treviño, a former Babbo sous-chef and Top Chef contestant. The restaurant is living proof that even a poor performance on Top Chef is like gold, if you know how to market yourself: Treviño was the fourth chef eliminated during Season 4, but that mediocre effort didn’t stop him from parlaying the show into his own restaurant.

Travertine arrived in September after a tortured gestation. One proposal after another for the former Little Charlie’s Clam Bar space was shot down by the local community board. It is tough to figure, as Kenmare Street has very little to recommend it, and this place brings night-time civilization to a nearly-barren area that could use some.

The owners’ proposal, after a previous turn-down, finally squeaked by the community board by a 17–14 vote way back in September 2008. They then had to build the space, and they’ve done a very nice job. Our meal here was no great culinary revelation, but it certainly improved this desolate area.

I started with drinks at the bar. Wines by the glass were generously priced, in that (as at Babbo) they’re served in a quartino (good for about two glasses), at the same price that most restaurants would serve for one. The bar itself is uncomfortable, with an iron grille blocking the space where one’s legs would normally dangle beneath the stool.

The menu is Italian-inspired, with a sensibly-edited selection of appetizers ($11–14), pastas ($16–19), entrées ($26–29), and sides ($5). There are no more than half-a-dozen in each category, which I am always happy to see. I’d rather choose from among the six things a chef thinks he can do well, than to puzzle over many dozens.

Serving Pig’s Head Terrine ($13; above left) was once considered daring, but now it’s offered all over the place. This one was merely average. Crispy Maine Shrimp ($14; above right) were served in abundance, but nothing imaginative was done with them.

Picci ($18; above left) were over-sauced and didn’t have much of the promised Italian sausage. Porcini Rubbed Pork Tenderloin was the best dish of the evening, with three generously-sized, tender medallions, crispy artichokes, and cannellini beans that could be addictive all by themselves.

There is clearly an attempt to be upscale here, with both an amuse-bouche at the start (crostini; pictured at top of post) and and petits-fours (right) at the end. There is no shortage of staff; indeed, during the first part of our meal it seemed that the employees outnumbered the customers, though to be fair this place probably doesn’t get busy till later. Unfortunately, we were stuck with what must have been their worst server, who was intent on rushing us through the meal and tried several times to upsell our order.

The food struck us as mostly competent, though it wouldn’t win Top Chef. For that matter, it didn’t win Top Chef, so there. However, the stupid Community Board have got a restaurant that improved their neighborhood.

Travertine (19 Kenmare Street between Elizabeth Street & Bowery)

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

Jo's

Note:  This is a review of Jo’s under chef Colin Kruzik, who was fired in June 2010. Chef Andrew Pressler eventually replaced him. Click here for a review of the food under Chef Pressler. The restaurant closed in May 2013.

*

Out of failure comes a second chance. Most restaurants we’re visiting these days are in spaces formerly occupied by other restaurants.

That’s the story at Jo’s, which opened in May in the former Tasting Room space. The earlier failure there was one of the sadder stories we’ve seen. Colin Alevras had a cult hit in the East Village, but it didn’t scale up to a NoLIta space that was triple the size.

Jo’s has humbler ambitions. The website describes it as “casual, neighborhood dining at great prices.” The food is better than we expected, but unlike the Tasting Room, Jo’s isn’t a destination, and apparently doesn’t aspire to be.

If you remember the Tasting Room, the new space won’t make you forget it. A couple of partitions, some modest wall hangings, and a new bartop have been added, but the Tasting Room’s old sliding barn door and exposed brick walls remain.

With $9 cocktails, $4–6 beers, wines by the glass mostly $9–11, and a happy hour every night from 5–8pm, there is a clear emphasis on the bar trade. So far it seems to be working, as we found the space full on a Friday evening. We were delighted by those cocktail prices until we tasted a couple of them. We found them far too sweet and syruppy.

The dining room was not full, but if a few of those bar patrons can be persuaded to stick around, they’ll find it worth their while. Appetizers are mostly $9–12, entrées $15–25. Several of the entrées are listed with two prices, “old school” or “à la carte” (sans vegetables) for $5 less. Side dishes, not coincidentally, are $5 apiece.

Chef Colin Kruzik (a veteran of James, Maremma, Nobu 57, and Bouley) works in a solid American comfort-food idiom. We encountered nothing adventurous, but within its narrow ambitions, enjoyed all of it.

A selection of Cured Meats ($11) was just fine, but we were even more impressed with Crispy Pork Ribs ($11), in a garlic glaze with shiso and peanuts. The meat fell off the bone, and the sauce was just right. I would go back just for those.

Is chicken the acid test for a competent chef? If it is, then this chef passed. I loved the Free Range Chicken ($19) with wilted baby spinach. Shell Steak au poivre ($25) was at the level you would expect of a good neighborhood place.

Service was attentive and polished, but we would have liked a place to hang our coats and bags, as there was little room for them in our booth. We thought the food came out at a reasonable pace, but the concerned kitchen comped a bowl of excellent gougères (photo above) while we waited.

It’s hard to walk in here without remembering the Tasting Room, but Jo’s is probably a better fit for the space. We sampled only a few dishes, but we’ll bet that the chef who made that chicken can nail the rest of the menu too.

Jo’s (264 Elizabeth Street, south of Houston Street, NoLIta)

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

Nolita House

Note: Nolita House closed in May 2012.

*

Nolita House is a comfortable pub-food place at the northern edge of Little Italy. We probably wouldn’t have thought to go, but it turned up on an OpenTable search for casual restaurants in close proximity to the Angelika Film Center.

The cuisine here is a half-step above pub food. Everything is below $20 except the strip steak, which is $22. The menu on the website is dated October 2009, which suggests it is updated more often than most pubs.

There are four versions of Macaroni & Cheese, each available in mini ($7–9) or main ($11–14). If you’re having an entrée, a mini is enough for two or three to share. We loved the Original ($7), made with four cheeses and panko breadcrumbs. There’s also the Lobster Bake, the Popeye (add spinach and bacon), and the “Mac N Cheesburger” (an upscale Hamburger Helper).

We weren’t as pleased when we moved to the mains. A Bacon Burger ($14) didn’t have much flavor, and fries were too dry. Shrimp Tacos ($16) were too dainty and didn’t have much shrimp. A pasta called Penne of Mulberry ($15) was probably the best try, a hearty portion with Italian sausage, broccoli, garlic, and parmesan broth.

Service was fine, and the selection of beers is good.

Nolita House (47 E. Houston Street between Mott & Mulberry Streets, NoLIta)

Civetta

Note: Civetta closed in November 2009. The space re-opened as Kenmare.

*

A restaurant like Civetta would not normally attract much notice, but for its pedigree. It has shared ownership with the Sfoglia team, and many hoped—expected—that the earlier restaurant’s success on the Upper East Side would be transferred downtown.

I must admit that I never bought into the Sfoglia hype. On my one visit, it seemed utterly unremarkable—the kind of place that I would consider only if I were in the neighborhood, assuming it wasn’t so crowded and cramped.

At Civetta, even Sfoglia’s modest ambitions are not duplicated. Sfoglia, at least, comes across as an earnest mom and pop place. Civetta, which means Owl in Italian, is just marginally better than the mine run of Little Italy restaurants on nearby Mulberry Street.

The space is on two levels. The ground floor derives its charm from a spectacular carved wood bar with a solid marble counter, which hails from an earlier era. The staff could not tell me its history, except that it was there before; that much I had figured out on my own. The rest of the room, with its wooden tables and knick-knacks on the wall, is like many other places you’ve seen.

The basement looks like it’s a new build-out. It’s designed to appeal to the late-night hipster set, with a crass décor having nothing whatsovever to do with the ground floor. We have no idea if it’s succeeding. By the time that crowd would have arrived, we were already back home. The dining room was close to full at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday evening. We suspected that the San Gennaro Festival had something to do with it.

The bread service (above left), replicated from Sfoglia if memory serves us right, was just fine. They even provided olive oil for dipping, after we asked for it.

The strength of the menu is two dozen antipasti ($8–18). It appears the pasta prices have moderated a bit after early reviewers complained, but the secondi all hover around the $30 mark. We were skeptical, so took a pass on them, ordering just antipasti and pastas.

The antipasti were stronger: Lamb Polpettini, or meatballs ($12; above left); Arancini ($12; above right), stuffed with fontina and sausage.

Seafood Risotto ($24; above left) was generic. The shrimp tasted like they came out of the freezer. Rigatoni Bolognese ($22; above right) was lukewarm and had the consistency of shoe leather.

With many compelling dining options within half-a-dozen blocks’ radius, we see no particular reason to recommend Civetta. If you go, stick with the antipasti.

Civetta (98 Kenmare Street between Mulberry Street & Cleveland Place, NoLIta)

Food: Average
Service: Acceptable
Ambiance: Acceptable
Overall: Average

The Monday Room

Note: The Monday Room closed in March 2012. A cocktail lounge, The Daisy, is set to replace it.

*

The Monday Room is a wine bar/small-plates room adjoined to the NoLIta restaurant Public. It has its own website and is separately reservable, but you enter through the same door as Public, and the food is prepared in the Public kitchen, by the same chef.

The space was used, at various times, as a gallery, as a retail shop, and as a private dining room. A shade over two years ago, it was converted permanently into a dining/bar room. The AvroKO décor features plush chairs, throw rugs, and dark wood paneling.

It is normally a much quieter space than Public, or so we understand. Unfortunately, a large party who’d had far too much to drink was carrying on in one of the big booths. We thought they should have been asked to leave, but it’s a tough call when a group is too loud, but hasn’t actually broken any rules yet. The staff were clearly getting annoyed, but when we left the party was still there, and had just ordered another round.

Fortunately, the food offered recompense in plenty. This comes as a surprise, as both of our visits to Public (1 2) left us underwhelmed. In fact, I will probably never eat there again, unless someone else insists. But in the Monday Room, chef Brad Farmerie hits one home run after another. If you didn’t know otherwise, you would doubt it was the same guy.

The menu, which changes frequently, consists entirely of small places ($6–19), which you’re encouraged to share. We ordered five of these, which was about right. There wasn’t a dud among them.

Sea Trout ($11.50; above left) was lovely. It came with a “three-slice pile-up” (above right), an order of bread so addictive that it ought to be served on its own.

Dashi Custerd ($9.50; above left) came topped with a salad of lobster, lime and caviar. We ordered two of these, as we were advised that it wasn’t suitable for sharing. Besides, who would want to share such a sublime dish.

Monday Meats ($15; above right) is a recent addition to the menu, including house-cured wild boar, a chicken mousse brûlée, and a chicken liver foie gras terrine, along with the usual accompaniments.

Pan-seared foie gras ($19; above left) was an excellent preparation, with french toast, maple glaze, pineapple chutney, and a slice of crisp bacon. Grilled venison mini-burgers ($7; above right) had a wonderful funky taste that wasn’t at all gamey, along with a tomato chili jam and shallot rings.

The mostly-European wine list offers ample variety by the half-glass, glass, half-bottle, or bottle. We spent $48 total on two half-bottles (one Spanish, the other Italian), enjoying a flexibility not available at most places.

Service was excellent, with fresh serving utensils brought for every course. All of the staff we interacted with were knowledgeable and enthusiastic about the food and the wine. Their ordering advice can be trusted.

We had heard that the Monday Room was better than Public, but we weren’t prepared for just how much better it is. Actually, it is remarkable.

Public (210 Elizabeth St. between Spring St. & Prince St., NoLIta)

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

Elizabeth

 

Note: There was a series of chef chuffles after this review was written. Elizabeth finally closed in early 2011.

*

The new restaurant Elizabeth showcases several recent trends.

In the first place, we have a former three-star chef working in much humbler surroundings—trying to “make it small” after he’d already made it big. That chef is Doug Psaltis, who worked at both The French Laundry and Country. In the second place, Psaltis is merely consulting, with another former colleague from Country, John Iconomou, in the kitchen day-to-day.

Lastly, there’s a “small plates” format, which at its best encourages grazing and sharing, but at its worst encourages over-ordering or leaves the customer confused about how much to order.

In part, these trends reflect the preferences of some younger diners, who want to enjoy haute cuisine without putting on a coat and tie, who don’t want to be locked into the standard three-course meal, and who don’t want to pay the higher prices that fancier restaurants need to charge to recover their overheads. These trends also reflect tough economic times: the risks and the capital required to open a multi-starred restaurant.

Some of the post-modern, deconstructed restaurants are terrific. Others are derivative—pedestrian—ordinary. Elizabeth is in the latter camp.

The space is configured somewhat like a railroad apartment, with several dark rooms in sequence, leading to a bright, cheery garden space with a large skylight. The garden looks like it dropped in from another restaurant; it looks like nothing like the indoor space. Most patrons seem to prefer the garden. It was full at 6:30 p.m. on a Friday night, but the dark indoor rooms, where we were seated, were empty. They started to fill up a bit later on.

The menu is divided into three categories with five dishes apiece: First ($8–14), Second ($11–13) and Third ($14–19). Naturally, the idea is to encourage you to order one from each category, though we ignored that advice. If our experience is any guide, one appetizer and one entrée (selected from the third category) is sufficient unless you’re unusually hungry.

For the record, desserts are $7–9, a cheese plate $13. House cocktails, at $12–14, are a bit over-priced in relation to the rest of the menu. The wine list is more reasonable, though it is less than half a page, with about 10 choices by the glass and another 10 by the bottle. We had a respectable Shiraz for $45.

 

A Green Gazpacho ($9) with cucumber and passion fruit was probably the best thing we tasted, cool and summery. In the middle of the bowl was a scoop of mango sorbet; the soup was poured over it at tableside.

A lettuce salad ($8) was competently done.

 

Pork Tenderloin ($14) was prepared in the traditional manner, with applesauce, sour cream, and potato latkes. A Crispy Cheese Burger ($14) wasn’t tender enough. It was served with a bizarre frisbee of burnt cheese that was twice the diameter of the bun. Fries ($5) were huge and far too mushy on the inside. I called them “horse fries,” meaning that only a horse could love them.

The restaurant has been open for about six weeks. Some early reports complained about service, but we found it mostly under control. We found nothing at Elizabeth that was worthy of the former chef de cuisine at the French Laundry. The kitchen serves decent comfort food.

Elizabeth (265 Elizabeth Street between Houston & Prince Streets, NoLIta)

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

The Tasting Room's Hamburger

Note: As of June 2008, the Tasting Room has closed.

The Tasting Room has added an “Old MacDonald’s” Hamburger to the menu. I read about it on Grub Street, and it sounded intriguing enough to take an after-work detour.

Chef Colin Alevras “swore for twenty years that I wouldn’t make one,” that is, a hamburger, “unless I could completely rework it in a way I believed in.” Well, I guess he believes in it now. It has a section of the menu to itself, labeled “To Experiment” (it comes after “To Start” and “To Continue”).

Here’s the description:

       Coarse Ground 6-week Dry Aged Piedmontese Beef, Marrow, Heart, Tongue & Liver
       Homemade Wholewheat Bread, Ouray Cheese, Fried Egg & Mushroom Ketchup

The taste is not quite like any other burger you’ve had. All of those organ meats give it a slightly gamey flavor, but in an enjoyable way. The “mushroom ketchup” (how’d he come up with that?) complements the burger nicely. Alevras cooks it rare, with a charred crust.

According to the server, some guests have tried to make a sandwich of it, but you need to be prepared for a gooey mess. I wasn’t prepared for that, so I used my knife and fork, alternating between the burger and the fried egg & cheese. There was a garnish at the bottom of the plate, but I’m not sure what it was.

I agree with Cutlets at Grub Street that the bread doesn’t add much. If anything, it gets in the way. That’s a drawback I recall from my last visit: Alevras puts bread on plates that would do better without it.

The menu category, “To Experiment,” is appropriate. Alevras is toying with an idea. If you’re the type who likes playful, inventive food, and if you don’t mind taking a chance for $23, then maybe you’ll enjoy this burger. It certainly won’t be to all tastes.

The menu at The Tasting Room changed over the winter. Formerly, most dishes were offered in either “tasting” or “sharing” portions. As I noted last time, this system leads to confusion, because the “tasting” portions were sharable too, and it wasn’t clear how much to order.

Well, the menu now features just one price for every item, with appetizers at $14–24, fish entrées $21–26, meat and poultry entrées $21–27, the cheese plate at $18, and desserts $8. It’s gratifying to note that the entrées haven’t yet crossed the $30 barrier, but the naming of the first three sections—“To Start,” “To Continue,” “Followed By”—tends to encourage a meal of three savory courses, and costs can mount in a hurry.

The bartender told me that they found the old system of both “tasting” and “sharing” portions was confusing diners, who would either over- or under-order. It’s a strange discovery for a restaurant that’s been around a long while. I suspect the real reason is that the original format, which was developed for a restaurant one-third the size, didn’t work as well in a larger space.

Anyhow, there are no more “tastes” at The Tasting Room, which might just be a better restaurant without them.

The Tasting Room (264 Elizabeth Street, south of Houston Street, NoLIta)

The Tasting Room

Note: Click here for a review of the Tasting Room’s hamburger and the 2008 menu changes. As of June 2008, the Tasting Room has closed. The restaurant Jo’s replaced it.

The Tasting Room opened in 2000 in the East Village, and was an immediate hit. Those were the days when the East Village hadn’t quite “arrived” as a dining destination. But diners flocked to the Tasting Room anyway. William Grimes of the Times wasn’t quite as impressed, awarding just one star.

Chef Colin Alevras and his wife Renée eventually outgrew the 11-table space, and last year they moved to NoLIta, tripling the size of the restaurant. (The old space is now the Tasting Room Wine Bar and Café.) Was the move an improvement? Adam Platt of New York says yes, awarding two stars. Frank Bruni of the Times says no, awarding just one.

Bruni endured sub-par service, but the early hiccups have now been worked out. We had a thoroughly enjoyable experience at the Tasting Room last Saturday night. Alevras may not hit a home run with every dish, but most of what he does is first-class, and the service team is on top of their game.

The menu’s main conceit—from which the restaurant draws its name—is that each dish is available in two portion sizes: “taste” and “share.” These basically correspond to appetizer and entrée portions. The menu is divided into two sections on facing pages—“To Start” and “To Continue”—and you can have either a taste or a share of any item, on either side.

Got that? It gets more confusing still. Although the larger portions are labeled “To Share,” the server recommended ordering five or six “Tastes,” and sharing those. So, it turns out that the “Tastes” can be shared, too. If you longed for a simpler ordering system, you would be entirely justified.

On the starter side of the menu, tastes are $11–16, shares are $18–28. On the entrée side of the menu, tastes are $16–25, shares are $28–46. The most expensive share is not what you’d expect: it’s a serving of Morel & Porcini Mushrooms. The menu changes daily, according to market availability. There were many items that appealed to us, but we finally settled on five “tastes,” to share.

 
Asparagus (left); Guinea Hen Terrine (right)

The Tasting Room’s creations tend to have a lot of ingredients. Asparagus ($14) came with spinach, crushed eggs, and a buckwheat crèpe. A Guinea Hen Terrine ($14) came with wildflower pollen mustard, a toasted English muffin, onion, and pickled beans. The asparagus was just fine, though I didn’t think the buckwheat crèpe added anything. The terrine was wonderful, but we had never seen such red poultry, and we wondered if it were a mistake. The server assured us it was not. Once again, the English muffin didn’t add much.

 
Alaskan King Salmon (left); Lamb Meatballs (right)

Since we had ordered five savory courses, one of them had to come by itself, and that was the Alaskan King Salmon ($22). The menu announced a bunch of accompaniments (chicory, comfrey, green onion, fava bean leaves, sorrel), but they could have been potato chips for all we cared. The salmon ruled here, and it was as tender as you could ever wish for. This was the one must-have dish that we tried.

Lamb Meatballs ($17) came with another cavalcade of supporting actors: shiitake mushrooms, tatsoi, spring onion, grits. Notwithstanding all that, the meatballs seemed like a dish you could make at home—not bad by any means, but not that special either.

 
Ossabow Island Pork Belly “under Glass” (left); Selection of American Farmhouse Cheeses (right)

Curiously, the Pork Belly ($18) was the one menu item only offered in the smaller-sized portion. It came to the table with a glass “bell” over the plate, which the server removed in a “Voila” moment. As usual, the pork came with plenty of friends (mushrooms, buckwheat, ramps), but it didn’t need all that help. It was a luscious serving, rich in fat and bountiful in flavor.

We concluded with the cheese plate ($15) with walnut raisin bread, which was just fine, but didn’t have the smooth-to-sharp progression of the better cheese selections we’ve had.

Even in its original location, the Tasting Room was known for its selection of American wines, many from obscure producers. The present list is still mainly American, but there are ample selections from France and a few other places.

Given the restaurant’s emphasis on locally-sourced ingredients, we wondered why there weren’t more Long Island wines on the list. But it was not an evening to solve that mystery, so we turned to California: Alder Grenache 2004, Alisos Vinyard, Santa Barbara County ($48), which went well with the rest of our order.

I left with the sense that many of the dishes could do with one or two fewer ingredients, but Alevras has a sure-handed touch with poultry, fish, and meats. Out of our six choices, not one was disappointing. The King Salmon and the Pork Belly were especially impressive.

The décor is a kind of “barnyard chic” that’s appropriate for the neighborhood. We had a 6:30 p.m. reservation, and the space didn’t really start to heat up until we were about ready to leave. We didn’t find it overly noisy. Service was knowledgeable and attentive.

I can’t make comparisons to the old Tasting Room, which I never visited, but the current version seems to have its act together.

The Tasting Room (264 Elizabeth Street, south of Houston Street, NoLIta)

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

Public

I first visited Public about three years ago, when it was still relatively new. My impression then was that the food didn’t quite live up to the high-concept ambiance. Last night, I decided to give it another try. My verdict remains the same: Public is more about the “scene” than it is about the food.

To be sure, it’s no mean feat to remain relevant three years later. That’s more than enough time for fickle diners to find a new favorite. Just as it always did, Public still seems to fill up, at least on weekends. We had no trouble getting a 7:15 p.m. reservation on Saturday night, but the next available was past 10:00 p.m. By the time we left, it seemed every inch of space was occupied.

Typical of restaurants in its genre, Public would not seat me until my dining companion had arrived—either a sensible strategy for managing tables in demand, or a cynical way to run up the bar tab. So I went to the bar, where I struggled to get a server’s attention. Once I did, I enjoyed both of the infused vodkas that I tried. Naturally, the tab wasn’t transferable to our table.

Public offers an Australian/New Zealand fusion menu that is really difficult to categorize.

Cured wild boar with Garrotxa cheese, marinated olives, caper berries and crostini

Cured wild boar ($13) sounded interesting, but was probably a waste of a good wild boar, as it didn’t taste particularly distinctive. With the cheese and crostini, it was at least a tasty snack. My girlfriend had the lentil salad, which was just fine, but didn’t launch any culinary fireworks.

Manuka braised lamb shank and truffled swede mash with watercress, poached pear and pickled onion salad

We both had the braised lamb shank ($25.50), which was satisfying comfort-food, though as my girlfriend pointed out, the degree of difficulty is low. It’s hard to screw up a braised meat. I thought that both the swede mash and accompanying salad were boring.

Service was inconsistent, and one server spilled wine on my shirt. The décor, a public library cum post office circa 1940s, is one of design firm AvroKO’s most stunning creations. The new-age sound track is too loud, and the exposed brick tends to amplify the sound.

You won’t eat badly at Public, but you won’t be wowed either. Perhaps the best bet is to come for a drink, admire the design, then try somewhere else for dinner.

Public (210 Elizabeth St. between Spring St. & Prince St., NoLIta)

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

Peasant

The Italian restaurant Peasant is charming and delightful. Open kitchens are no longer a novelty, but no open kitchen contributes more to a restaurant’s atmosphere as the one at Peasant. The raw, rustic aroma of its wood-burning stoves make you forget you’re in New York City.

The menu is entirely in Italian, and even seasoned diners will need a translation. (Anyone know the Italian word for cuttlefish?) The knowledgeable server (from New Zealand!) happily explained the menu all night long, but it’s a lot to keep straight in your head. We wondered why they don’t just print the translations on the menu itself, which would save both diners and servers a lot of trouble. The menu is printed on distressed paper, meant to look like it’s an ancient relic.

To start, I did indeed have the cuttlefish, which came in a super-heated cast-iron skillet. Bathed in vegetables and spices, it was delightful. For the main course, I tried an off-menu special, the suckling pig liver, which was tender and expertly prepared. My friend had the osso buco, of which I had a taste. It was about as flavorful as any osso buco I’ve tried.

The bread service came with an overflowing bowl of soft ricotta (but we had to use our appetizer knives to spread it with). It took plenty of self-control to limit ourselves to one slice each.

Dinner for two, with a moderately-priced bottle of wine, came to $133 with tax, before tip.

Peasant (194 Elizabeth Street between Spring and Prince Streets, NoLIta)

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