Plein Sud

Note: Plein Sud closed in August 2013. This is a review under chef Ed Cotton, who left the restaurant in October 2011. Reviews were mostly unfavorable, but Cotton lasted for quite a while afterward, so there may have been other reasons for the split.

*

Hotel Restaurants have rules all their own. Practically all hotels must have a restaurant, so they bring in an established operator, who can be guaranteed—at least, as much as anything in this business can be—to run a reliable operation.

The operator gets a subsidy, which limits his downside risk. In exchange, he must offer room service and serve three meals a day. The menu can’t be anything so terribly challenging that guests will find it off-putting. Of course, what works in the Four Seasons would fail in the Holiday Inn, but the principle remains the same.

The Thompson Hotels, a boutique chain with five New York City properties, offer an eclectic mix of restaurants: Kittichai at 60 Thompson, Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill at 6 Columbus Circle, The Libertine at Gild Hall, Shang at the Thompson LES, and now Plein Sud at the Smythe. I suspect that at least two of the five (Shang and The Libertine) would be doomed as stand-alone restaurants.

Plein Sud adheres to the pattern of the other Thompson hotels, in that it has an operator with established credentials: Frederick Lesort of the now-shuttered Frederick’s Madison; along with a chef, Ed Cotton, who worked at (and was fired from) three-star Veritas.

The South-of-France cuisine seems calculated to meet the hotel’s requirements, with safe choices that won’t offend any guest. Even those who didn’t take French in high school will guess the contents of Le Burger Royale au Fromage, Coq au Vin, and Pasta Printemps. The menu does not stray far beyond these brasserie standards.

Over the course of half-a-dozen visits (the first chronicled here) I’ve found the cooking always at least competent, though singularly lacking in ambition. One wants to think that Cotton, who has worked at much better places (and is a current contestent on Top Chef), is not content to stop at this.

There’s a range of appetizers in various categories to satisfy bar grazers. On another visit, I tried the Tart Flambé, an oven-baked flatbread with smoked bacon, onion, and cheese. It’s a perfect snack, though better for sharing, as it wears out its welcome. (Gael Greene has a photo on her blog.)

We tried the large charcuterie board ($21; left), which allows you to choose five of the six meats on the menu. They were all just fine, though served with not enough bread. Dozens of places in town offer the same.

We wondered: if all you have are six selections, why not just give slightly less of each, and serve all six? Figuring out which one to leave out—we chose the air-dryed Wagyu beef—seemed odd. (There is also a small charcuterie board that offers three of six for $15.)

Steak au Poivre ($32; above left) was clearly better than the average non-steakhouse New York Strip, though well short of Minetta Tavern level. The fries were perfect. Pasta ($21; above right) with Merguez sausage and goat cheese was another solid effort.

Over the course of my visits, I’ve found a mixture of considerate and clueless service—never offensive, just sometimes aimless. Having now seen the AvroKO décor from every angle, I am inclined to be less charitable than before. Like everything else at Plein Sud, it won’t offend anyone, but it seems to be a retread of ideas the firm has used before, with filament bulbs hauled in from the company store room.

What we have here is a solid and reasonably priced neighborhood restaurant that seldom disappoints but never wows. I freely admit to a bias in favor of this type of cuisine. Most of the New York City critics will be bored by such a place. Do the owner and the chef aspire to anything more? Or are they happy to serve hotel guests and curiosity-seekers who happen to just wander by? That’s an open question.

Plein Sud (89 West Broadway at Chambers Street, TriBeCa)

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

First Look: Il Matto

Note: Il Matto closed in April 2011, less than one year old. It re-opened in June 2011 as White & Church with a new menu and décor, which also failed. The space is now Bouley Botanical, an indoor farm and private event space from David Bouley.

*

Il Matto opened last week in the old Arqua space (whose owners still have Petrarca Cucina e Vino, across the street).

The chef is Matteo Boglione, who worked briefly at Falai and the lesser known Gradisca. “Reknowned mixologist Christina Bini, who has come straight from Italy,” heads up the cocktail program.

The name of the restaurant means “the mad man,” and that is appropriate. There’s nothing about this place that I liked.

The website touts the décor as “chic and esoteric.” I call it sterile. At the bar, where I sat, they have managed to find the world’s most uncomfortable stools, with seats too shallow and backs too short.

The bizarre menu is so busy with amateur artwork that it’s hard to find the food. Its offerings are overthought and overwrought. Examples include “peanut roasted chicken over celery root purée and garlic chips,” and “Tuna tartare, black olive tapenade, cannelini beans, avocado, and fried leeks.” For a place that invested so heavily in its bar, strangely there are no bar snacks.

The cocktails (all $12–15) are in three groups: martini, salt, and sweet. Your heart sinks when the supposedly reknowned mixologist doesn’t know the meaning of the word “martini.”

Except for the presence of vermouth and the shape of the glass, the Maltese ($14; left) wasn’t any kind of martini, with its mix of vodka, ginger, spicy peperoncino, and a bell pepper garnish. It was bland and weak.

Better was the Buffalo 66 ($13) in the “salt” category, resembling a bloody mary with beet juice replacing tomato juice.

It was not crowded, but drinks were slow to come out. I paid up and headed out to dinner elsewhere. I am not tempted to return.

Il Matto (281 Church Street at White Street, Tribeca)

Tamarind Tribeca

The best place to put a restaurant is where there are already successful restaurants. So when Avatar Walia, owner of the Flatiron Indian restaurant Tamarind, wanted to go way upscale, it’s no surprise he chose Tribeca.

Still, there’s a huge risk here. Tamarind Tribeca is a big-box 11,000-foot bi-level space. Take one look at the build-out (Eater.com has photos), and it’s immediately obvious it wasn’t done on the cheap. With fresh orchids on every table and a service brigade worthy of a three-star restaurant, the operating costs must be substantial.

There’s no reason why such a restaurant cannot work, but I do not recall a successful precedent for Indian food.

I can report, at least, that the food is wonderful, and it is not expensive, in light of the surroundings. Dinner for two was $135 before tip, including two appetizers, two entrées, sides of rice and naan, and a bottle of wine ($45). That’s more than you’d pay at the neighborhood tandoori mill, but Tamarind is much better than that.

I cannot compare this outpost to the Flatiron branch, but the server said the menu here is broader and more ambitious. The Village Voice, in a rave review, reported that the owner “does not employ one executive chef, instead using a team of chefs from various parts of India.”

The Voice thought that “the unusual strategy seems to be working,” and so do we.

Murg Malova ($10; above left). Hunks of chicken packing plenty of heat are seasoned with yogurt, coriander, cream cheese, and caraway seeds, then finished in the tandoor.

Bataki Kosha ($10.50; above right). Duck with mustard, onion, garlic, ginger, and garamasala is wrapped in a rice crepe with black salt and tangerine chutney, and deep fried. I’ve never had an Indian dish like this.

Both of these were large enough to be entrées—especially the duck.

Punjabi Mutton ($23; above left). Goat meat was served with whole spices, tomatoes, onions, ginger, and garlic. Aside from the use of goat—as opposed to the more common chicken or lamb—this dish resembled what you’d get in just about any Indian restaurant in the city. For all that, it was just right. The goat was served on the bone, but separated without difficulty.

Sufiani Machli ($26; above right). We were dumbfounded at the silky tenderness of sea bass, which had somehow survived roasting in the tandoor., then garnished with an intoxicating elixir of hung yogurt, dill, lime zest, and mixed peppercorns.

The server conceded that nobody in India is serving Tandoori Sea Bass. Still, this was the best fish entrée I’ve had all year—the kind of dish you can’t wait to have again.

The wine list is much longer and ambitious than it needs to be. This just might be the only Indian restaurant in town with wines that reach four figures, but there is plenty for those who want to stay under $50, as we did. The service was very close to flawless.

The space looked to be about half full by the time we left, at around 7:30 p.m. on a Friday evening, but Tribeca is a late-arriving crowd. Still, there are a lot of seats here, and they’ll need a lot of repeat business to keep them full.

If every meal at Tamarind Tribeca is as good as ours was, that won’t be a problem.

Tamarind Tribeca (99 Hudson Street at Franklin Street, TriBeCa)

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

First Look: Plein Sud

Plein Sud is the new Southern French-themed brasserie in Southern Tribeca, in the swanky Smythe Hotel. It has top-drawer names behind it, including restauranteur Frederick Lesort (who previously ran the now-shuttered Frederick’s Madison mini-chain) and design firm AvroKO.

The chef here, Ed Cotton, has a blue-chip background, with stints at Veritas and BLT Market on his resume. He’s also a competitor on the coming season of Top Chef. If he survives deep into the season, Plein Sud could start to get a lot of attention.

The restaurant has been open since May, but it only received its liquor license yesterday. In honor of that event, they were offering wine on the house. Where the alcohol is free, New York Journal is on the case, so I dropped in. Service at the bar was a bit inattentive, but considering that they didn’t even have a bar until yesterday, it is too soon to reach any judgment.

The space is easy on the eyes, as you’d expect from an AvroKO production. The only food I sampled was an excellent Duck and Foie Gras Terrine that could withstand comparison to anything served at Bar Boulud, the city’s charcuterie capital. The young lady seated next to me at the bar offered me a taste of her Loup de Mer entrée, which had a nice crisp skin and a medley of roasted vegetables.

This is a take-no-risks menu, but if you love French classics, you’ll like Plein Sud. There are more pâtés and terrines to be tried, charcuterie, and baked flatbreads, along with the usual appetizers and entrées. It’s the kind of focused menu that David Bouley’s failed Secession, nearby, should have had.

Cotton was fired at Veritas, probably because he was serving two-star food in a three-star restaurant. Plein Sud doesn’t aspire to three stars (and won’t get them), but it doesn’t have Veritas’ high prix fixe. That terrine was just eight dollars, and most entrées are in the twenties. If he can keep serving food this good, he’ll do just fine. If he wins Top Chef, he’ll do even better.

Plein Sud (89 West Broadway at Chambers Street, TriBeCa)

Barzinho

Note: Barzinho closed in August 2011.

*

 Barzinho opened quietly not long ago in TriBeCa. In a neighborhood known for splashy restaurants, this one flew under the radar. I’ve found no announcements in the usual sources. A liquor license application dated October 2009 is still pending; beer and wine are available now.

The cuisine is Brazilian, and inexpensive. The space is bare-bones, to say the least. With its mismatched furniture and minimal décor, it could be somebody’s basement rec room. I wasn’t up for a full meal, but I ordered two snacks—certainly not sufficient to reach any conclusions about the place.

Brazilian sausage (above left) came from a specialist butcher in New Jersey (I asked), but they tasted just like Bob Evans or IHOP.

Yuca, also called Cassava, is the world’s third most-common source of calories, after rice and wheat, and much favored in lesser developed countries. An order of fried yuca (above right) made clear why it hasn’t become popular in the U.S. The mushy and largely flavorless starch will be nobody’s favorite substitute for french fries.

There were only about three customers, but I visited quite early—around 5:30 p.m. As I was leaving, a live Brazilian band (guitar, percussion, vocal) was starting to play. I thought: this might not be so bad! But it was time for me to go, and I caught only a snatch of it.

I wasn’t wowed by either of the appetizers I tried, but they may have been an unrepresentative sample. Barzinho deserves another chance.

Barzinho (225 West Broadway, south of White Street, TriBeCa)

First Look: Terroir Tribeca

Terroir Tribeca opened last night, the west side sibling to the East Village wine bar that was an instant classic two years ago, and remains so today. We’ve visited the original Terroir twice (reviews here & here), and would’ve gone more often if it wasn’t on the opposite side of town. With a Terroir three blocks from work, that problem is now solved.

Terroir Tribeca is twice the size of its older sister, a bit nicer looking, and has about quadruple the kitchen space. The concept, however, is the same. If you’re one of the few people who didn’t like Terroir (ahem, Robert Sietsema), you won’t like Terroir Tribeca either.

Much of the credit goes to Paul Grieco, the mad scientist of sommeliers, whose wine lists are as fun to read as a Joseph Heller novel. The man knows his wine, loves to talk about it, and sells it at prices that make you want to try. There are bottles, of course, and everything on the by-the-glass list is available in either half or full pours.

Grieco’s partner, Marco Canora, supervises the food program. The menu is an expanded version of the East Village Terroir. The categories are the same (bar snacks, “fried stuff,” charcuterie, cheese, panini, salads, etc.); there’s just more of everything. I suspect that the larger kitchen will give them the chance to broaden the menu eventually. For the opening, they have hewed to their already proven concept.

My eye drifted first to the “Fried Stuff.” Funky Beef Balls ($7; above left) were heavily seasoned flavor bombs of aged Creekstone Farms beef. Sage Leaves with Lamb Sausage ($7; above right) were even better.

I had brief tastes of a couple other items that I liked a bit less, the “Disc O’ Pig” and the “Bacalla Balls” (there is clearly an obsession with circular and spherical objects here). All are designed for sharing, and that is a wise thing. If there’s any criticism of this food, it’s the lack of variety. After two heavy deep-fried dishes, you might be in danger of falling into a salt coma.

I was ready for a change of pace, which Orangey Beets ($4; above left) supplied. I then went back to the fried stuff, with the Beet Gorgonzola Risotto Balls ($7; above right). They don’t look like much on the outside, but they’re fantastic.

Grieco and Canora have seeded Terroir Tribeca with staff from the East Village, so it’s no surprise that service was much smoother than the typical opening night, even though the bar was packed to the rafters by 7:00 p.m. Actually, I can report only one minor glitch—getting charged for a full glass of wine when I was quite sure I had only half. I ordered about five or six half-glasses, and all the others were billed correctly.

Terroir Tribeca is launched, and I suspect it’ll be one heck of an enjoyable ride.

Terroir Tribeca (24 Harrison Street, east of Greenwich Street, Tribeca)

The Harrison

Note: This is a review of The Harrison under chef Amanda Freitag, who left the restaurant in September 2010. The restaurant closed in late 2014, due to a rent increase.

*

Since the Harrison opened in 2001, just after 9/11, several big names have run the kitchen, most recently Amanda Freitag, who joined in 2007. She put a more Italian, less French-ified twist on the menu, a ploy clearly designed to pull in Frank Bruni for a re-review. It worked: the man awarded two stars.

Not that the Harrison needed a lot of help. It was a hit practically from the beginning, and it’s a hit still. It seems to be consistently full. Both Freitag and partner Jimmy Bradley keep themselves in the public eye, and no doubt this is good for business.

We’ve dined at the Harrison twice before (reviews here & here), but both pre-dated Freitag’s tenure. We were overdue for a re-visit. We won’t be rushing back. Our meal was a bust, with both appetizers and entrées disappointing.

Prices are lower than I remembered them, but perhaps the Harrison, like many places, has dialed them down. The current top entrée is $34, the current top appetizer $14—both a couple of dollars less than they were in the Bruni review. Most entrées are $25 or less.

An octopus appetizer ($14; above right) came with a sweet tomato and cucumber salad, but it was overwhelmed with celery. Lamb Cripinettes ($12; above right) were over-cooked, and dry.

Calf’s Liver ($22; above left) was too slimey, and the log-shaped pieces into which it was sliced resembled an unappetizing scatological object. Potatoes puréed to the consistency of baby food and dull mustard greens were not much better.

Fluke ($27; above right) was torpedoed by a butter-lemon sauce that was too watery, leaving the fish a soggy mess.

To the restaurant’s credit, the server noticed that I had barely touched the liver. It did not appear on the bill, and the kitchen sent out an eclair (right) as partial recompense.

The room, always crowded, is fine for what it is, but it was never especially inviting. The service remains top-notch for a “casual-plus” kind of place.

For those who care about such things: we cannot assign a rating to the Harrison. We gave it two stars after our last visit (under another chef), but this visit would get zero. We suspect the Harrison is not quite this bad. Rather than assuming that, we will leave it with no rating at all.

The Harrison (355 Greenwich Street at Harrison Street, TriBeCa)

Centrico

Note: Centrico closed in August 2012. A “public house” called Distilled replaced it. Centrico’s chef, Aarón Sánchez, says he hopes to open another Mexican restaurant somewhere in New York.

*

Until last week, Centrico was the only one of Myriad Restaurant Group’s high-gloss dining establishments where I had never had a full meal. That surprised me, because I am fond of restauranteur Drew Nieporent’s other places (Corton, Tribeca Grill, Nobu, and even the late lamented Mai House), and Centrico is only a five-minute walk from my office.

But for whatever reason, the Mexican-themed Centrico doesn’t exert the same gravitational pull as Myriad’s other restaurants. Its outdoor tables are reliably occupied in good weather, but on a cold autumn Friday evening the large dining room was practically deserted. It’s the size of a warehouse, and no more charming than a hundred other Mexican places you’ve been to.

We wonder how much attention chef Aarón Sánchez gives this restaurant, given his commitments to his other NYC restaurant, Paladar, plus food network shows, cookbooks, and so forth? The menu is inexpensive, but we found the food uneven, and frankly uninspired.

Guacamole ($12; right) lacked the vibrant flavor that Frank Bruni praised in his 2006 review, and it didn’t seem to be fresh. The multi-colored chips Bruni mentioned have been replaced by generic ones that could have come from the supermarket.

A Vegetable Quesadilla ($10; above left) didn’t have much flavor on its own, though the spicy tomatilla salsa on the side somewhat rescued it. Pulpo a la Plancha (10; above right), or baby octopus, tasted rubbery.

Roasted Chicken ($20; above left) was the best thing we tried. The skin had a smoky garlic flavor, while the meat was tender and juciy. But Braised Short Ribs ($23; above right) were a dull, stringy, soupy mess. I liked Sánchez’s take on corn on the cob ($7; below); by the time I tasted it, I wished I hadn’t filled up on so many far less satisfying items.

I had intended to visit Centrico about a month earlier, but on the day of our reservation the restaurant had to close because of a mechanical failure, and management offered us a return visit on the house. We were treated with admirable courtesy and weren’t charged a dime.

It is therefore unfortunate to report that we found so much of the food so dull, even by the generally low standards of Mexican cuisine in Manhattan.

Centrico (211 West Broadway at Franklin Street, TriBeCa)

Locanda Verde

I was back at Locanda Verde last week for a business lunch (previous review here). Despite my misgivings about the Ken Friedman décor and occasionally clueless service, Locanda Verde may be the best new casual restaurant of 2009.

Oh, and Andrew Carmellini has a way with chicken. More on that in a moment.

We started with Pumpkin Ravioli ($15; above left) and Gabagoul & Grana ($14; above right), the latter being a mafioso’s version of salume with with parmesan cheese.

Then came a Sheep’s Milk Ricotta ($11; above right) and an excellent side of Roasted Brussels Sprouts ($7; above right) with pancetta and pecorino.

I loved all of that, but the Fire-Roasted Garlic Chicken ($19; above) sent me over the edge. This was probably the best chicken I’ve had all year, perfectly seasoned, busting with flavor. The identical dish seems to be available at lunch or dinner for the same price, but at dinner they make you order the whole chicken for two. At lunch, you get a half-chicken for one, which was more than I could finish.

We were seated at one of those round tables in front that is so small, it seems like it belongs in an ice cream parlor. Our server did not seem to be well informed about the menu. My companion asked about a dish she saw at another table. He disappeared to check on it, and forgot to return.

The kitchen, where Andrew Carmellini rules, is as good as ever.

Locanda Verde (377 Greenwich Street at N. Moore Street, TriBeCa)

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

Bouley

I am late to the party with this review, in that the new Bouley opened almost a year ago, and our meal there was over a week ago. Recollections of specific dishes have faded a bit, but my feelings about the restaurant itself are perfectly clear.

Bouley restaurant is now in its third and most elegant location. It started out in the space that is now the Italian restaurant Scalini Fedeli, then moved to the space that is now Bouley Bakery. In late 2008, Bouley finally got the palatial dining room that the chef had always wanted. Louis Quatorze could be happy here. It is expensive and stunning.

The restaurant does not want for business. Every table was occupied on a Saturday evening in early September, and at 10:30 p.m. there were still new parties being seated. David Bouley has one of the top fine-dining brand names in New York. He is recession-proof.

The various Bouleys have yo-yo’d between three and four New York Times stars, most recently three, courtesy of Frank Bruni. Even he, never one to be wowed by elegance, acknowledged the over-the-top sense of privilege that one gets by dining here. Words can’t describe it.

But there is unevenness in the food and service, which is the one defect a change of venue could not rectify. There’s a large service brigade, and they’re all in a hurry, which leads to carelessness. More than once, wine glasses and serving trays came crashing to the floor. A runner was scolded loudly for delivering food to the wrong table (not ours).

More seriously, not until we got to the molten chocolate cake was a dish delivered at the right temperature. Amidst a long parade of courses, almost every one was lukewarm. Plates were not pre-warmed, and most of them sat on the pass too long. The food here is accomplished, but it is undermined after it leaves the chef’s hands.

We were, however, treated with courtesy and care by the many captains, sommeliers, and runners who waited on us. You cannot eat cheaply at Bouley, but it is one of the few restaurants in its class that offers dining à la carte, with appetizers $14–21 and entrées $36–43. There are two tasting menus, $95 and $150. We had the latter, all nine courses of which unfolded over four hours.

The amuse-bouche (above left) was a Cauliflower mousse with trout caviar and 25-year-old balsamic vinegar. Next was the Porcini Flan (above left) with Dungeness Crab and Black Truffle Dashi. One can understand the raves this dish has received, but as would be the case all evening, it needed to be warmer. This was followed by a Foie Gras Terring (below left).

Unlike most tasting menus in town, there are choices for most courses. We split for the next course, one of us having the Cape Cod Striped Bass (above right), the other an Organic Farm Egg (below left) with Serrano ham and a blizzard of other components.

Lobster (above right) was, once again, not quite warm enough.

The next savory course offered a choice of Foie Gras (above left) and Squab (above right).

The final savory course was the only outright failure. A whole “All-Natural Pennsylvania Chicken,” supposedly baked “en cocotte,” was brought out in a large glass vessel. Imagine our surprise when it was returned to the kitchen for plating, and three wan slices of breast appeared (above left), once again lukewarm—spa cuisine at its worst. How could such a beautiful bird could yield so little? What became of the dozen other chickens that paraded by us? Was there just one Potemkin chicken, brought out for show, but having nothing to do with what we were served?

Rack of lamb (above right) came out without a flourish, but the meat was on the tough side, and as you may have guessed by now, lukewarm.

Desserts ended the evening on a high note, even if we were too full to fully appreciate them. There was a Strawberry and Rhubarb parfait (above left), and then a crème brûlée birthday cake (above right).

We moved onto “Chocolate Frivolous” (above left) with five different variations on chocolate, with which the house comped a glass of Maury. The petits-fours (above right) were excellent, too.

Portion sizes for this nine-course menu were on the large side. The chocolate alone was more than I eat most evenings for dinner. I do not recall feeling more full after a long tasting menu.

I can’t imagine why David Bouley’s service team so often lets him down. He can afford the best, and he ought to be getting the best. Of course, I am phrasing my complaints in relative terms: we didn’t experience bad service. But we didn’t get what the chef and the room deserve.

Bouley (163 Duane Street at Hudson Street, TriBeCa)

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