Osteria Morini

What a wild rocket-ride Michael White has had. Four years ago, he was the relatively unheralded chef at Stephen Hanson’s Fiamma. The restaurant was a solid three-star, but the chef’s name didn’t roll off the tongue.

Today, White is as close to culinary royalty as any chef in this town who doesn’t have four New York Times stars. His three established places (Alto, Convivio, and Marea) have nine NYT stars, and also five Michelin stars. No other NYC chef has more than two Michelin-starred restaurants, nor more than four stars in total.

Mario Batali is a better known Italian chef than White, but Batali hasn’t actually cooked in years, except on television. White really works in his restaurants.

This fall brings a dual test, as Osteria Morini, his latest place, has just opened; another, Ai Fiori, is forthcoming in the new Setai Fifth Avenue.

The obvious questions are: 1) Is there such a thing as too much Michael White? And 2) Can his restaurants remain as good, when his time is split among five of them? To answer the second question, we’ll have to wait a while. For now, we can answer the first: when they’re as good as Morini, White can open as many restaurants as he wants.

The focus here is on the cuisine of the Emilia-Romagna region, known for hearty, uncomplicated fare. The word Osteria signals a more informal approach to Italian food: no tablecloths, no expensive prix fixe.

This was clearly meant to be the casual cousin to the chef’s earlier restaurants. As Frank Bruni noted in a blog post:

Its unvarnished sensibility will be reflected in its décor, which uses antiques and other materials plucked or salvaged from flea markets and farmhouses throughout Italy.

Still, with pastas priced at $17–19 and entrées $24–42, these aren’t cheap eats. It’s quite a bit more than White and his partner, Chris Cannon, told the Times just six months ago. At these prices, they could afford to ditch the paper napkins and the garish orange paper placemats. The loud rock sound track is probably the restaurant’s least authentic amenity; it ought to go, too.

But that is about all we would change at Osteria Morini, which is already a great restaurant after only a month in business.

Musseto ($13; above left) was a hearty stew of braised cockscombs, sweetbreads, calves feet, garlic croutons, and salsa verde. Nine out of ten diners would probably reject it for the “ick” factor alone, but I couldn’t actually distinguish the specific taste of any ingredient except the croutons.

Mozzarella ($11; above right) paired happily with figs and rosemary oil.

The pasta section of the menu is loaded with shapes and flavor combinations I have never seen before, all made in house. While Tortellini ($18; above right) may be common, the duck liver cream sauce it came with was not. It was an excellent dish, but it needed to be just a shade warmer.

White roasts Porchetta ($29; above right) with sage and rosemary on a spit for three hours, wrapped in thick, crackling skin. The pork was beautifully cooked, as tender as butter.

Petroniana ($27; above left), a crispy veal cutlet, is so rich that it could be dessert, putting the old classic to shame, with layers of prosciutto, parmigiano, and truffle cream, served on a bed of buttered spinach. We debated whether this dish was too heavy for its own good—it was certainly impossible to finish—but I would order it again.

Cavoletti Bruxelles & Pancetta ($9; above right), or Brussels Sprouts, were an excellent side dish, but honestly there was no need to order them, as the rest of the meal was already far too filling.

The wine list is excellent for this type of restaurant, with many unfamiliar wines (Talia Baiocchi published an overview last week). I checked in on foursquare, and within minutes a stranger directed my attention to a white wine fermented in its skin, in a section of the menu captioned “Vini Bianchi da Contemplazione.” These wines have a slightly orange hue and an arch, crisp flavor that pairs well with the cuisine. We had the Notte di Luna, which at $69 seemed to us a very good deal for something so unusual.

A restaurant in such high demand—and Morini is about as hot as any right now—could quickly become full of itself. There is none of that here. The staff volunteered without prompting to transfer our bar tab to the table (Ahem! Paging Jeffrey Chodorow). And when we stopped Chef White to ask how a dish was prepared (the Porchetta), he insisted on finding a piece of paper so that he could draw a diagram, and then took us into the kitchen to show us how it worked. (We are reasonably certain he did not recognize us as bloggers, because it was the end of the meal, and he had paid no attention to us before that point.)

Chef White is juggling four high-profile restaurants, soon to become five. To maintain quality at all of them will be a challenge. We can’t forecast how he’ll manage that. Right now, while Osteria Morini has his full attention, it’s everything we hoped it would be.

Osteria Morini (218 Lafayette Street between Broome & Spring Streets, Soho)

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

Macbar

In New York, just about any food urge can be satiated somewhere. But it’s hard to think of a place with a more laserlike focus on one—and only one—thing than Macbar, where Macaroni & Cheese is all you can get. The theme extends even to the décor, which is decked out in macaroni yellow. Look a bit harder, and you’ll see that the room is even shaped like a piece of macaroni.

If there was great public demand for such a place, I must not have heard about it, but the tiny slip of a storefront next to Delicatessen was available, so the owners grabbed it. I can’t imagine where they got the idea, but I salute the notion of doing one thing well, which Macbar does.

You could eat here a few times and not get bored, as they offer twelve varieties of mac & cheese. Many are obvious: the classic, four cheese, primavera, carbonara. Others are mash-ups with familiar dishes: mac reuben, mac stroganoff, cesseburger mc. Then there’s mac ’shroom, mac lobsta, mac quack (duck). You get the drift.

Each of these is available in small ($5.99–8.99), medium ($7.99–12.99) or large ($12.99–17.99). My son and I both ordered mediums, a size that made for a good-sized entrée.

You can also take your M&C elsewhere and combine it with something else, which wouldn’t be a bad idea. A lot of the business here is take-out. The are only a few tables; they’re small and not especially comfortable, but they suffice for a quick meal. Naturally, they’re yellow.

We ordered the mac quack ($11.99; above left) and the mac reuben ($10.99; above right). Both were terrific, but they make for a one-note dinner. They come in cute yellow containers shaped like—well, you probably guessed by now.

I don’t know if I would have gone without a 14-year-old, but if you’re in the area and have a craving for mac & cheese, macbar is your restaurant.

Macbar (54 Prince Street, east of Lafayette Street, Soho)

The Burger at Lure Fishbar

Lure Fishbar is best known as a seafood restaurant (click here for our review), but chef Josh Capon cooks a surprisingly good burger. His entry won the People’s Choice award at the recent Rachel Ray Burger Bash, part of the New York Food & Wine Festival.

The burger he serves at Lure regularly appears on various “best burger” lists, so I was eager to give it a try. It sells for $15, which seems to be the going rate for burgers at upscale restaurants (not counting the crazy Black Label Burger $26 at Minetta Tavern).

Sure enough, he nails it. It’s not a match for the Minetta Burger (the $16 cheap option at the Tavern), but still plenty good—and unlike Minetta, you have a shot at getting a bar stool here at meal times. Capon doesn’t complicate matters. He just serves a simple burger, with enough heft that you can ask for medium rare and see red. It comes with a blizzard of condiments, but I didn’t need any.

Lure Fishbar (142 Mercer Street at Prince Street, SoHo)

Lusso

Note: Lusso closed in March 2010. Apparently, Soho didn’t need another average Italian joint.

*

Lusso opened quietly in January 2009 on a spacious SoHo street corner. I saw a preview in Grub Street, and then…nothing. With 1,000-point OpenTable reservations being handed out like candy, it’s clear that Lusso hasn’t exactly caught on.

We visited Lusso on Friday evening, more out of convenience than necessity. The menu is casual Italian, and the faux rustic space is consistent with this. A small wine wall above the kitchen door is its most appealing feature, a flat-screen TV above the bar its least.

What we found was decent neighborhood cuisine, with the pastas better than the appetizers. We did not try an entrée.

The menu is a bit too expensive, with antipasti $9–16, pastas $12–17, and entrées $22–29. By way of contrast, the superior Locanda Verde does not have an entrée above $26.

The wine list is also problematic, with most of the choices above $50 a bottle. A large selection of Italian small-batch beers is much more compelling, though with prices ranging from $13–33 a bottle, they aren’t cheap either.

An Octopus appetizer ($13; above left) was parched and over-salted. Sweetbread Crostini ($13; above right) featured an odd combination of bacon, dried cherry puree, and chive oil. We debated what the sauce might be (my son thought barbecue), but we couldn’t detect cherries, dried or not.

Pastas were a much happier story, including a lovely Risotto ($13; above left) with sunchoke puree, mushrooms and arugula and a hearty Lasgna ($14; above right) with buckwheat pasta, mozzarella, herb ricotta, and meat sauce.

The meatball side dish ($7; above left) was terrific, and we also liked Rotelli ($15; above right) with fried bread crumbs and chunks of braised short rib.

After mediocre appetizers and good pastas, we didn’t know what to make of this place. Locanda Verde, about fifteen minutes south, is a bit less expensive and a lot better.

Lusso (331 West Broadway at Grand Street, SoHo)

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

Shorty's.32

Note: Shorty’s.32 closed in September 2011, the victim of “bad business decisions.”

*

At Shorty’s.32, the backstory is a familiar one: a fine-dining chef opens a neighborhood comfort-food spot. We’ve seen it all over town.

At Shorty’s, that chef is Josh Eden, who cooked at several restaurants in Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s empire, eventually working his way up to chef de cuisine at JoJo. The diminutive Mr. Eden picked up the nickname “Shorty,” and the restaurant has 32 seats, which explains the otherwise inscrutable name.

You’ll find little of Chef Vongerichten’s influence here, just standard upscale American comfort food priced slightly on the expensive side, with appetizers $8–14, entrées $16–30, and side dishes $7. Based on the hearty portions we were served, we’re not sure why anyone would really need a side dish here.

The wine list is priced in line with the menu. Reds range from $28–180, with an emphasis on lesser known producers. I loved a 2005 Alliet Chinon “Vieilles Vignes” Cabernet Franc ($60), which I was able to taste by the glass because the bar happened to have a bottle open.

The food was all competently prepared, but a few days later I had already forgotten most of it. Fortunately, I had the photos to remind me. Crabsticks ($14; above left) were basically cakes served in the shape of spring rolls. Braised Pork Belly shared the bowl with a Cranberry Bean Salad ($12; above right).

The dishes Frank Bruni liked, when he awarded one star, are still on the menu. He was not fond of a pork chop in “a soggy milieu of mashed yams.” Replacing it is Pork Milanese ($24; above left), suffocated by a pea shoot and radish salad. Bruni liked the Braised Short Ribs ($29; above left). I found the saucing too heavy, but the side of elbow macaroni was just fine.

A glance at Chef Eden’s resume might lead you to expect culinary fireworks. There are none. What you do get is solid comfort food, worth a look if you happen to be in the area.

Shorty’s.32 (199 Prince Street between Sullivan & MacDougal Streets, SoHo)

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

Savoy

Note: Savoy closed in June 2011 after a successful 21-year run. It re-opened (with the same team) as Back Forty.

*

The restaurant Savoy, in SoHo, has been running a cassoulet festival in February and March, with different versions of the classic dish on the menu, depending on which week you visit.

We liked Savoy when we visited in late 2006, but it never advanced on my “revisit” list. You know the drill: so many restaurants, so little time. Chef Peter Hoffman’s version of the haute barnyard theme, new as it was when he inaugurated it nearly twenty years ago, has since then been replicated at dozens of other restaurants. Few have done it so well.

Some restaurants get you back by lowering their prices. Savoy did it by putting cassoulet on the menu. Next Saturday, March 14, they’re even offering a cassoulet tasting festival for $55, with different versions of the dish offered by six restaurants. (A portion of the proceeds will go to charity.) We weren’t up for quite that much cassoulet, but we were impressed with the sample we tasted last Friday evening.

The appetizers were examples of the simple, seasonlly-driven cuisine Savoy has specialized in. A large hunk of Crispy Pork Belly Confit ($14; above left) came with a poached apple, carrot purée, and cider jelly. A Beet Consommeé ($10; above right) kept company with goat cheese dumplings and baby leeks.

The cassoulet ($32) was cooked in the dining room fireplace. It can be made with a variety of ingredients, though beans are a constant. This version had goose confit, braised pork, house bacon, and Toulouse sausage. Among its many merits, it was one of the few cassoulets I’ve had that didn’t take 20 minutes to cool off to an edible temperature.

The room is one of the city’s unheralded romantic spots, and service is spot-on. The space was nearly empty when we arrived at 6:30 p.m. on a Friday evening, but just about full when we left over two hours later. I don’t know how many of the patrons were there, as we were, expressly for the cassoulet, but it certainly seemed popular.

Savoy (70 Prince Street at Crosby Street, SoHo)

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

New Year's Eve at Tailor

Note: Tailor closed in late 2009, after Chef Sam Mason left the restaurant. The space re-opened as the Hawaiian-themed restaurant Lani Kai.

*

Those who spend New Year’s Eve in restaurants, rather than at parties or bars, face a dilemma. Most places charge crazily-inflated prices for dumbed-down versions of their regular menus. I don’t mind paying a little extra, but I want to at least enjoy the food. Three years ago, we were appalled by what Picholine passed off as dinner for $400 a person. We vowed never again to patronize a luxury restaurant on the last night of the year.

I have two criteria for a New Year’s Eve restaurant. First, the price needs to be reasonably close to what you’d pay on any other night. And second, the chef needs to be serving the same kind of food he normally serves. WD~50 passed the test two years ago, so I decided on Tailor—in many ways a similar restaurant.

A nine-course tasting menu was $100 a person (it’s normally $90 for seven courses). Wine pairings were $45 (normally $35). And chef Sam Mason, one of the city’s enfants terribles of molecular gastronomy, wasn’t about to start serving catering-hall food.

(Someone at Tailor can’t count. Though described as a “7 course tasting menu,” nine courses were listed, and nine were served. Click on the image for a larger version.)

I’ve written about Tailor in earlier reviews (here, here). The restaurant had a nearly disastrous opening in late 2007 and took a critical beating. Mason continued to fine-tune the menu, and a popular downstairs bar brought in plenty of customers. I’ve no idea how the 60-seat dining room does on a typical night, but it was full for New Year’s Eve.

Mason is a cross between a classically-trained chef and a mad chemist. He tosses ingredients together in wild combinations. Some of his experiments end in disaster, but everything he serves is perfectly cooked and beautifully plated. Even where we thought he failed (in two of the nine dishes), the technical quality was first-rate.

Mason’s avant garde plates aren’t for everyone. It’s not hearty comfort food; that’s for sure. Although Tailor has improved since Frank Bruni awarded one star in late 2007, I am still not sure the Times critic would be a fan. At WD~50, Wylie Dufresne had to rein in his wilder flights of fancy before getting an upgrade to three stars. Mason just does what he wants, sometimes with reckless disregard for common sense.

I didn’t use the flash last night (though I probably could have gotten away with it), and the low-light dining room is not camera friendly. I’m including the photos anyway, though they’re not as good as I’d like.

1. An oyster (above left) was paired beautifully with kiwi and Thai peppers.

2. Rye-Cured Char (above center), served warm, was balanced by a cool dill cream and slivers of radish.

3. Tiny cubes of warm tongue (above right) shared a plate with beets, pistachio and horseradish.

4. A deconstructed “Baked Potato” (above left) misfired. A crisp curly french fry was positioned like a toast rack for a bacon chip sliced as thin as a human hair, a potato chip, and I believe a parsnip chip. These little chips were lovely, but the potato itself needed more help. A schmear of sour cream underneath it was almost undetectable.

5. “Bouillabaisse” (above center) was another deconstructed classic, but it worked. I think there were five or six different kinds of seafood in it (char, monkfish, razor clam, etc.), along with a small cube of French toast. There was nothing complicated about it, but every piece of fish was cooked perfectly.

6. Waylon Braised Brisket (above right) with sweet potato and cranberry was probably the evening’s straightforward dish, but no less successful for it.

7. A small, delicate sphere of Foie Gras (above left) was decorated with dulce de leche, apple and cashews.

8. Brown Butter Cake (above center) was not so much deconstructed as detonated. Instead of a cake, we got a pile of crumbs with a bitter squash sorbet and a so-called “maple caviar.”

9. Hazelnut Parfait (above right) ended the evening on a strong note.

For a final surprise—a play on the traditional petits-fours—we had a chocolate truffle filled with cotton candy.

The wine pairings were pedestrian, as they often are. Of the seven glasses served, the two most successful weren’t wine: a champagne-and-gin cocktail called a “French 75,” served with the oyster; and a nut brown ale served with the “Baked Potato.” The others were generic and mostly forgettable. Several of the wines were served long before the food they were meant to pair with, and the “Bouillabaisse” was served with no wine at all.

Aside from that, service was very good. I loved the bread service, with two different fresh breads and soft butter. Servers did a good job of explaining Mason’s unorthodox creations. Plates and glasses were promptly cleared. There were some long pauses between courses, which I assume was by design, as the ninth plate came out a shade before midnight. In all, the meal lasted just over 2½ hours.

The tasting menu format works to Mason’s benefit. Some of his crazier ideas are fun when they last for just a few bites, but they might not sustain interest when served in larger portions. Over a nine-course menu, you won’t mind if a few courses aren’t successful. In a standard three-course meal, even one dud is unacceptable, and there’s a decent chance of that happening, especially as it’s hard to guess what you’re getting from the printed descriptions.

We find Tailor unique and indispensable. If you have your doubts, the regular menu offers several ways to sample Mason’s cuisine without committing to a full meal. For instance, a three-course dessert tasting, which two can easily share, is just $28. Pair it with Eben Freeman’s excellent cocktails, and you’ve got avant-garde cuisine on a recession budget.

Tailor (525 Broome Street between Sixth Avenue & Thompson Street, SoHo)

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

Hundred Acres

Hundred Acres is the latest brainchild of two haute barnyard cult figures, Marc Meyer and Vicki Freeman. Between them, the husband-wife team already have two hit restaurants to their credit, Five Points in NoHo and Cookshop in Chelsea. Both are variations on a similar theme: market-driven menus leaning heavily on produce from local farmers.

Last year, they acquired the old SoHo mainstay Provence. They were sentimentally attached to the restaurant, as it was the place where they became engaged. Their original plan was to keep it French, but Gallic cooking wasn’t really in Meyer’s soul, and Frank Bruni found the food uneven. Meyer told the Times that Provence was packed during the weekends, but weekday business was slow.

So after a bit of remodeling, the space now looks like—you guessed it, a gussied-up farmhouse. Meyer and Freeman are once again doing what they do best.

The menu here is more downmarket than either of their other two places, with a much gentler price point. Appetizers are $10–12, entrées around $15–20. Your mileage may vary, as the menu changes often, but these prices are about as low as you see at a serious restaurant these days.

We were both attracted to the “Trio of Toast” — three crisp bruschette topped with rabbit, smoked fish, and liver respectively. It’s daring to serve a dish like this, as many diners find at least one of those ingredients a turn-off.

We liked the liver the best, and the fish was solid too. The rabbit had cooled off a bit too much, and it tasted oily.

 

You don’t see pollack—a member of the cod family—on many restaurant menus. It was cooked in parchment and topped with peas. The preparation was first-class, the fish moist and flavorful.

My girlfriend had a lamb sausage burger. The sausage itself was terrific, but the plate was overwhelmed with toppings and garnishes. Shoestring fries weren’t very interesting, and after a couple of tastes we left them alone.

We finished with a warm rhubarb tart.

You’ve got to give Meyer credit. Run down the roster: a trio of toasts with rabbit, smoked fish and liver; pollack; a lamb sausage burger. They’re all the work of a chef who wants to challenge diners, not to pander. Good for him!

We noticed, though, that the most popular dish seemed to be the fried chicken. Perhaps diners at Hundred Acres aren’t quite ready for Meyer’s version of barnyard cooking.

The wine list is not extensive, but there were plenty of options under $50.

The execution here was slightly uneven, but they’ve been open only a month, and I assume they’ll get the kinks worked out. Service was much more polished than one would expect for such an inexpensive restaurant.

Hundred Acres (38 MacDougal Street between Prince & Houston Streets, SoHo)

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

Pegu Club

 

I’m a newcomer to the cocktail revolution. The timing and temperament of my dining habits are such that I’m more likely to have a sit-down meal with wine than to have a liquid dinner at a bar. But the craft and care that goes into the better cocktail menus has started to get my attention, if belatedly.

Pegu Club, which turns 3 in August, is practically the senior citizen of the post-modern cocktail circuit. It “hides in plain sight,” like many places in the genre—in this case, behind a barely labeled red door on Houston Street. No one who casually walks by would realize it’s a bar. Even those who are looking for Pegu Club sometimes have trouble finding it.

The bar is named for a nineteenth-century British officers’ club in Burma, and one can just detect a bit of the fin-de-siècle elegance they were aiming for. It’s a large, comfortable, and beautifully decorated space, with plush table seating and comfortable bar stools.

 
Left: French Pearl; Right: Poquito Picante

Pegu Club takes its ingredients seriously, with house-made infusions, shots carefully measured, and sodas poured from fresh bottles. I tried three of them (all $12), starting with the Little Italy, a Manhattan variant made with an Italian bitter called Cynar (“CHEE-nar”). The bartender actually took a sideways glance at me as I took my first sip, to see if I’d like it as much as he predicted. I’d imagine he was pleased with the broad smile on my face. I also loved the French Pearl, made with gin, pernod, muddled mint, lime juice, and simple syrup.

I wasn’t as pleased with the Poquito Picante, which didn’t live up to the promise of “just a little bit of heat.” The jalapeño floating on top was merely decorative. The other ingredients, cilantro, cucumber, gin, cointreau and lemon juice, made a bland impression.

I wonder if Pegu Club is leaning too much on the menu it opened with, and if the restless inventiveness of the city’s better cocktail chefs is still present here. The same handful of ingredients recur in many of the drinks—for instance, five of them include mint; five have lemon juice. That’s a lot of repetition on a short menu. I didn’t run out of choices, but I don’t know if there’s enough variety to justify many repeat visits.

That said, there’s still plenty more that I’d like to come back and try.

 

There’s food here, too. There’s a beverage recommendation for each item on the brief food menu, but in a number of cases there was no such item on the cocktail menu. You’d think they could clear that up.

The smoked trout deviled eggs ($10) have been on the menu since the beginning (Frank Bruni raved about them). In a word: wow! The little flecks of trout have a smoky taste almost like bacon, which nicely complements the curry mayonaise on the eggs. I didn’t quite get the point of chopsticks as a serving utensil, as the eggs were far too slippery to pick up that way. I used my hands.

A vegetarian spring roll ($12) was much more bland, but it was a decent enough snack.

The service was excellent, but in fairness I came quite early in the evening—I was the first customer, in fact—so I can’t attest to what it’s like when they fill up.

I’m only just beginning my journey through the city’s great cocktail places, but I doubt that there are many as comfortable as Pegu Club, and many of the drinks here are already modern classics.

Pegu Club (77 W. Houston St. between West Broadway & Wooster St., SoHo)

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

La Sirène

Part of a critic’s job is to direct readers to great restaurants they wouldn’t otherwise discover. Unfortunately, most of New York’s professional critics seldom have time to do so. With just one published review per week, it’s all they can do to keep up with new restaurants that, for all intents and purposes, must be reviewed.

So we were gratified to see Frank Bruni’s review of La Sirène—a restaurant we’d never heard of. We’re not sure how Bruni even found the place. When it opened in May 2007, every critic in town ignored it, except for Time Out New York, which awarded four-of-six stars. (TONY’s ratings are a bit odd sometimes, but they have one of the most thorough dining-out sections in town.)

Bruni awarded one star, but you shouldn’t be deceived by that. One star is supposed to mean “good,” and though the stars have been debased over the years, this was one of those rare reviews in which one star was a compliment: Bruni loved the place.

So did we.

The name means “The Mermaid,” perhaps a nod to chef Didier Pawlicki’s Marseille roots. The minimal décor in this tiny slip of a restaurant is faintly nautical, though there’s red meat on the menu too, in addition to the obligatory fish and seafood, especially mussels.

Pawlicki is a constant presence in the dining room, explaining himself and seeking our approval. He served the hangar steak at a table next to ours, and said, “Here it is, medium. I refuse to cook it medium well.” At another, he served sea bass and explained how much of the fish gets thrown away to yield just one filet. To us, he explained the sweet–sour balance of the chocolate in the profiteroles.

Time Out New York called Pawlicki the “Cockiest chef with the goods to back it up.” (The little plaque the magazine gave him is hanging proudly on the wall.) On Citysearch.com, Pawlicki adds a personal comment to every review. The overwhelming majority of those reviews are positive.

On the classic bistro menu, which changes seasonally, appetizers are $7.50–$13.95, entrées $19.50–$28.50, desserts $7.50–$12.75. There are four different preparations of mussels, $12.75 as an appetizer, $21.75 as an entrée. It is probably time that Pawlicki rounded his prices off to the nearest dollar.

These prices have risen considerably since TONY reported that the average entrée was just $20. But La Sirène is more-or-less in line with other places serving food of comparable quality. The restaurant is also BYOB, and apparently has no plans to obtain a liquor license. This reduces the de facto cost of dinner considerably.

 

Some of the menu descriptions mix French and English in almost comical ways, such as “Brie, Blue Cheese et Chèvre Rotis sur Croutons a l’ail et Salade Verte” ($13.75); that’s brie, blue and goat cheese on garlic croutons over greens. Our other starter, Gateaux de Crabe ($11.85), speaks for itself.

Both appetizers were adequate but unmemorable, and the plating of the crab dish wasn’t very attractive.

 

Hangar Steak, or Onglet Poêlé à la Facon Luchonaise ($24.50) was wonderful. The menu pronounces it the “Signature Main Course.” The steak was lightly seared, cut in thin ribbons fanned around the plate, served with a garlic and parsley sauce, and with a brick of sweet potatoes in the center. Hangar steak can sometimes be tough, but Pawlicki’s version was so tender you’d think it was rib-eye.

My girlfriend had the terrific Kassoulet Toulousain de la Maison ($26.95), with cannellini beans, tomato, duck leg confit, bacon and pork sausage, all braised with “duck fat yummy!!!”

The challenge with this dish is to ensure the ingredients maintain their clarity; the last two places I’ve had it, the cassoulet was over-cooked, and it the flavor had all boiled away. Here, it was just about perfect.

The entrées came with “veggies du moment” (left), served family style.

The profiteroles have apparently been controversial, with some diners complaining the chocolate was too bitter, though others seemed to love it. Pawlicki yanked it from the menu, but he was able to whip up a batch rather quickly when Frank Bruni and his friends asked for it.

Anyhow, it’s back, along with Pawlicki’s quirky description: 

Grand Profiteroles au “Bittersweet” Chocolat (Good to Share)
Back on the Menu due to Overwhelming demand. (You like it, Good. You don’t, it will stay this time! This isn’t Hershey’s Chocolate, but Callebaut!

Pawlicki ain’t kidding when he says “Good to Share.” With three pastries, each stuffed with ice cream, and the whole plate slathered in chocolate and whipped cream, even two people will struggle to finish it. We certainly didn’t. We can understand the “overwhelming demand” for this excellent dish, but it’s the most expensive dessert on the menu ($12.75). It should probably be scaled back a bit.

The early TONY review referred to an “empty dining room,” but that isn’t the case now. La Sirène has been discovered, and it was full on a Friday night. There are two servers for twenty-five seats, but they’re patient and polished, despite the slightly hectic atmosphere. The ambiance is decidedly informal—you have to pass through the cramped kitchen to get to the restroom—but there’s a romantic rusticity here that is instantly endearing. We suspect that La Sirène will remain a neighborhood classic for some time to come.

Note that, except for AMEX, credit cards are currently not accepted.

La Sirène (558 Broome Street, just east of Varick Street, SoHo)

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