Greenwich Grill & Sushi Azabu

If the owners of Greenwich Grill had asked my advice about their two-headed restaurant concept, I probably would have said, “Don’t bother.” The main dining room offers a mash-up of “Californian, Italian, and traditional French cuisines” refocused through a Japanese lens. You would guess none of this from the name, nor would you likely stumble upon the lightly-trafficked block on which it resides. And if you did walk by, you’d never guess there is a sushi bar downstairs.

Improbably enough, Greenwich Grill is actually worthwhile. A salad of 18-month cured Prosciutto di San Daniele ($12) was cloaked with parmesan and paired with beefy slices of bufola mozzarella. A lunch-sized portion of tilefish ($18) was beautifully done. Blueberry cobbler ($8) took fifteen minutes to cook, but paid off handsomely.

I tried the downstairs sushi bar, Sushi Azabu, several months ago. There is a variety of prix fixe offerings. I had the humblest of these, which set me back all of $50, including tax and tip. At that price, I was obviously not getting their most expensive stuff, but it all seemed carefully prepared. The majority of the patrons that night were Japanese-speaking, so somehow they had found this weirdly inaccessible place.

I was a bit worried when a colleague and I walked in at noon for lunch today, and we had the place to ourselves. By the time we left, they had filled all of six tables. Whatever business they have is due to word of mouth, as critics paid very little attention when it opened last year. Time Out New York awarded four of six stars to the dining room and five of six to the sushi bar. Frank Bruni in the Times was less impressed, awarding just one of four to the sushi bar and ignoring the dining room entirely.

Despite the odd collision of cuisines and concepts, the owners are Japanese, and this is their first New York restaurant. Perhaps this is why they had the folly to try something so strange, which nevertheless is surprisingly enjoyable. It is a quiet, comfortable place, and service is first-rate.

Greenwich Grill/Sushi Azabu (428 Greenwich Street between Vestry & Laight Streets, TriBeCa)

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

Trigo

[Krieger via Eater]

Note: Well, that was fast. Less than three months in, Trigo closed. It was replaced by Bar Artisanal (a branch of Chef Terrance Brennan’s cheese-happy restaurant franchise), and later by Pelea Mexicana.

*

The instant we walked into Trigo, we knew that it was planned before the recession. It’s a cavernous space, decked out in medieval gloom, with towering ceilings and wooden arches. It’s termed a Mediterranean brasserie, with the food seeming more Italian than anything else. The chef, Michael Garrett, has stints at Aquavit and Merkato 55 on his C.V.

The menu has a bunch of categories, and the server tried to steer us into a four-course meal. We were having none of that. Three small starters and an entrée apiece was more than enough.

House-cured gravlax ($11; above left) was too small a portion to make an impression. Wild Boar prosciutto ($9; above right) was perfectly fine. The star of the appetizers, though, was a Lamb Tart ($14; above right), made in the restaurant’s wood-burning oven. If you visit Trigo, go straight for anything that comes out of that oven.

We concluded with two pasta entrées, Lobster Parpadelle ($26; above left) and Linguine with Clams ($23; above right), both of which struck us as hearty nourishment but not food worth going out of the way for.

I can’t find serious fault with anything Trigo served, but it was unexciting (except for the lamb tart). With a $32 bottle of wine, the total came to $115 before tax and tip, a bit more than I care to pay for food this boring. The space was never more than half full, but by the time we left the hard surfaces made it loud indeed.

Trigo (268 West Broadway at Lispenard St. & Sixth Avenue, TriBeCa)

Food: Satisfactory
Service: Satisfactory
Ambiance: Loud
Overall: Satisfactory

Valentine's Day at Corton

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

The restaurant industry calls major holidays “amateur night.” Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and New Year’s Eve are the biggest culprits. Restaurants are overrun with customers who don’t eat out a lot. Many places charge outsized prices for less-interesting versions of their normal menus—because they can get away with it, because it’s easier, or because they figure that customers want “safe” food.

If you dine out all year long, choosing a restaurant on “amateur night” is a challenge. I’ve had some good luck, but I’ve also been burned. I’ll accept a price premium, but I don’t want to pay twice as much for food half as good as usual.

We guessed that Paul Liebrandt, the chef at Corton, wouldn’t be capable of serving boring Valentine’s Day food. The tasting menu price was jacked up to $205 (it’s $120 normally), but at least Liebrandt didn’t compromise. If anything, the food seems to have improved since our last visit. With three stars from Frank Bruni in the bag, maybe he feels like he can let his creative side roam free again.

I didn’t want to disrupt a relaxing evening with photos. You can see the menu on the right (click for a larger image). The Sweetbread and White Chocolate Palette were spectacular, the Turbot and Pheasant very good. An amuse that I can only call “foie gras soup” was outstanding. For the rest, I’ll let the printed menu speak for itself. Liebrandt’s platings occasionally get too cute, with daubs of sauce no larger than a nickel that you can barely taste, but that’s more an observation than a drawback.

My eyes landed on a $60 Ladoix burgundy, and sommelier Elizabeth Harcourt’s eyes lit up—one of her favorites, she said. After we ordered it, we understood why.

My only complaints are picky, but given Corton’s aspirations I’ll state them anyway. The timing of the courses was a bit lumpy, with the first few coming out too quickly, and then some awfully long pauses later on. We didn’t mind the pauses, but the earlier courses needed better spacing. And some of the runners need a brush-up on their mechanics: plates should be served and cleared from the side, not across the table. One server refilled my wine glass before my girlfriend’s.

For the record, Drew Nieporent was in the house, seating customers and busing tables. I had wondered if he would still be working the floor after the review cycle was over, but for now, he is. He told us that he turned away 300 covers, which I could well believe. Corton is one of the few high-end places that does not seem to have seriously suffered in the recession. Getting three stars from every critic in town will do that.

Based on this meal, I would say Corton is still getting better. Given how good it was already, that is a high compliment indeed.

Corton (239 West Broadway between Walker & White Streets, TriBeCa)

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

Macao Trading Co.

[Horine via Eater]

Note: This is a review under chef David Waltuck, who is no longer at the restaurant. His replacement is Josh Blakely. We also note that Macao now has a prominent sign—which it didn’t when this review was written.

*

Most restaurants want to be found. Macao Trading Co. takes the opposite approach. It’s on a crazily obscure block in TriBeCa, without so much as a sign to let you know it’s there. The door looks like a service entrance. Even if you’re looking for Macao Trading Co., you’re liable to miss it—as I did the first time. If you just happen to be walking by, you’ll keep on walking.

That’s not stopping people from patronizing Macao Trading Co., which was doing a brisk bar business even at 6:00 p.m. last night. They serve food and drinks until 4:00 a.m. in an allegedly “semi-private lounge” downstairs called the Opium Den. There’s a built-in clientele, thanks to the same owners’ acclaimed cocktail bar cum restaurant, Employees Only, another peculiar place that makes virtue out of the perception of inaccessibility.

The story is completely different at the perpetually-empty Dennis Foy next door, as it was at Foy’s short-lived predecessor, Lo Scalco, which not even a star from the Michelin Guide could rescue. There aren’t any “bad blocks” in Manhattan, but some are bad for certain types of restaurants. In this place, Macao Trading Co. fits right in.

The restaurant is named for Macao, a former Portuguese colony on the Chinese mainland. The décor is tricked out like the 19th-century trading warehouse of our dreams. If Disney had a Macao ride, it would look like this. The spectacular back-lit bar is the visual highlight, and it’s the culinary highlight too. The cocktail list is impressive; the food feels like snacks that are meant to dilute the alcohol.

David Waltuck of Chanterelle is responsible for the fusion menu. Many dishes are shown in pairs, where you can choose either the Portuguese or the Chinese version of the same ingredient, such as meatballs, prawns, or ribs. Each table is set with a knife and fork, and chopsticks.

There are appetizers and entrées, but the menu seems to be evolving more towards small plates and snacks. The server steered me in that direction, suggesting I order two of the small plates. That wasn’t quite enough for a meal, so I later ordered a third, followed by dessert.

Mackerel Escabeche ($8; above left) was like a deconstructed ceviche, served cold. It tasted fresh and mildly tart, but slightly bland. Portuguese lamb balls filled with cheese ($8; above right) were tender, but overpowered by a flood of tomato sauce. The identical green-flecked leaves seem to be the default seasoning for both dishes.

Mushroom croquettes ($12; above left) benefited from a generous helping of truffle oil, but I thought the barren plate needed something to dip them in. Fried milk ($7; above right) was one dish that didn’t need any more help. A dusting of cinammon and a light honey citrus salad on the side worked perfectly together.

The cocktails are impressive, though expensive at $14 apiece. I’ll leave it to the cocktail specialists to describe them. The wine list seems to be an afterthought. There was just one token red available by the glass, and they served it in a water glass.

Service was attentive, though I was there quite early and had their mostly undivided attention. I especially appreciated the server’s modest ordering advice, as restaurants that specialize in small plates usually try to sell you more than you need.

All four of the items I tried struck me as enjoyable complements to the cocktail menu, but I wouldn’t come here for the food alone.

Macao Trading Co. (311 Church Street between Walker & Lispenard Sts., TriBeCa)

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

Devin Tavern

Note: Devin Tavern closed in January 2009. This time, it’s for real. Its replacement is Trattoria Cinque.

*

I felt guilty. Eater.com announced that Devin Tavern, a resident of its Deathwatch hospice had expired. I wrote an obituary that was premature. Yesterday, Eater walked the story back. Devin Tavern is still open. I figured the least I could do was have dinner there.

The restaurant has re-invented itself multiple times, in an effort—so far apparently fruitless—to win a steady following. I visited Devin Tavern v1.0 about two years ago. I liked the rustic menu, but Frank Bruni wrote it off after one blog post. Most of the major critics didn’t review it. I think they’re on their third chef now. The server wasn’t sure of his name, but she said it’s the same chef as nearby Dylan Prime, which has the same owners.

I don’t know if the restaurant will survive, but its website is overdue for an overhaul. Its “press” section has links to stories about a chef who is no longer there. Its online menu shows a number of items that are no longer offered. I had my heart set on the House Made Bacons, which have been dropped.

The current menu doesn’t blaze any culinary trails, but the kitchen did a solid job with Steak Frites ($24), a slightly chewy but expertly prepared hanger steak that I was happy to finish, with an excellent Hollandaise sauce on the side and good crisp fries.

Cocktails are superb, all of which are “made with house-made syrups, liqueurs & fresh juice,” a bargain at $12 each. The bread service was excellent, too.

The space is enormous, with several spacious dining rooms. They’ve probably never been full here, but last night they had a large private party and a solid bar crowd.

Seating is comfortable, and the rustic chic décor is easy on the eyes. Service was very good, as it ought to be when there aren’t many customers to keep track of.

Devin Tavern (363 Greenwich St. between Franklin & Harrison Sts., TriBeCa)

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

Dead Restaurant Walking

We commented last week on a trio of restaurant closings first reported on Eater.com. It turns out that one out of three was completely wrong, and another was incomplete.

Devin Tavern has not closed. [Update: Now it has.]

And Archipelago plans to “relaunch soon with an exciting new menu designed for today’s more budget-conscious restaurant-goers.” At least Eater.com was right about Greenwich Burger: I checked it myself, and the “For Rent” signs are unmistakable.

We’ll give Eater.com a generous 1¾ out of 3 score. Archipelago is technically closed at the moment, whatever their plans may be. We’ve seen plenty of “temporary” closings that turned out to be permanent. Actually, they usually do.

The Bouley Burger, Upstairs

Note: Bouley Upstairs closed in July 2008. It now operates as Bouley Studio, with a Japanese Kaiseki menu on Thursdays and Friday evenings, and a limited menu of sandwiches and burgers the other days.

*

When I walked by Bouley Upstairs a couple of weeks ago, I saw a space transformed. The former bakery has high-tailed it across the street, and in its place are about half-a-dozen tables, generously spaced, with crisp tablecloths and wine glasses. The formerly rag-tag place has turned into a real restaurant.

The name “Bouley Upstairs,” which was formerly “Upstairs at Bouley Bakery,” will probably be the answer to a trivia question someday. The restaurant is now both upstairs and downstairs. The added space allows more room to breathe, though the staff told me the second floor is still a tight fit.

The menu seems to be broader than it was, with some classics kept around and seasonal specials. I am not quite sure how they manage it with such a small kitchen, but I suspect there are sometimes long waits for food. The Japanese offerings have been expanded considerably, to the point that Upstairs is practically two restaurants in one. There are now several prix fixe options on the Japanese side of the menu, ranging from $35 to $85, along with a substantial à la carte list.

I’ve started a new project: sampling the upscale burgers that are popping up all over town. Last night, I decided to try Bouley’s ($15 with cheese), which has been on the menu from the beginning. Alas, this wasn’t one of the better ones. An English muffin should not stand in for a bun, and the taste of red onions overpowered the meat.

It’s a messy burger to eat, though that’s not necessarily a flaw. When I got home, my suit jacket went onto the dry cleaning pile.

The $10 glass of red wine I had was pretty good, though I’ve forgotten what it was. The wine list overall seemed to lack the inexpensive bottles that a restaurant in Upstairs’ price range ought to have. When the entrées top out at $21, the wine list shouldn’t be almost all above $50.

I am not sure if this is destination dining or a good neighborhood cafeteria, but based on past meals (here, here) I’ll assume it’s still a 1½-star restaurant. Upstairs has a stratospheric 25 food rating on Zagat. At the very least, it’s a lot more comfortable to graze here than it was before, and the service last night was much improved compared to my previous visits.

Bouley Upstairs (130 West Broadway at Duane Street, TriBeCa)

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

Grim Reaper: Devin Tavern, Archipelago, Greenwich Burger

Update: Devin Tavern actually did not close at the time of this story, but it finally did about a month later. Archipelago claims it will re-open.

Yesterday, Eater.com reported three restaurant closures downtown: Devin Tavern, Archipelago, and Greenwich Steak & Burger. I have strong opinions about these restaurants, as all three are within walking distance of my office.

It’s easy to blame these failures on the economy, but that would mask the real story. Even in a booming economy, restaurants fail all the time. If there were no recession, perhaps one or two of these places would have hung on a while longer, and perhaps ultimately survived. Still, you can’t ignore management mistakes that led to their demise.

When I visited Devin Tavern on a weekday evening two years ago, there was no recession, but even then the large space was nowhere close to full. They fired the chef the following spring. An Eater Deathwatch came in June of last year, when the place was still not packing them in. I liked the place, but it never caught on with the neighborhood crowd—recession or not.

Archipelago was simply awful. Most of this town’s critics didn’t review it, which I assume was an act of kindness. I am not a believer in cursed restaurant spaces, but Hudson Square is not a neighborhood that attracts much foot traffic. People have to want to go there, and Archipelago didn’t give them a reason. Neither did the previous occupant, Dani.

The failure of Greenwich Steak & Burger is harder to explain, as it was comparatively inexpensive, and I thought the food was at least decent. But in a restaurant-rich neighborhood, perhaps “decent” wasn’t good enough. In the first few months after I posted my review, it got a very high number of search-engine hits (by my standards), so apparently people were interested in the place, but it never caught on.

We’re going to see more failures after the New Year. The economy naturally has something to do with it, but you need to look beneath the surface to see why. Every failure is its own story, and usually conceptual mistakes or poor execution are at least partly to blame. 

The State of the Bouley Empire

David Bouley’s growing empire fascinates me. What is it like to build seven restaurants at once? Not seven clones, but seven one-of-a-kind places?

One of the seven, Secession, is an early failure. It got zero stars from Adam Platt this week. If it gets much better than a weak singleton from Frank Bruni, I’ll be surprised.

I walked by the others last night for a brief look-in. Here’s a report:

Bouley Bakery. The bakery has now moved into the old Bouley restaurant. It’s a work in progress, with signs of unfinished construction. David Bouley himself was wandering around inside. They’re selling baked goods and soups, in what appears to be a makeshift space. My understanding is that there will eventually be a wine bar in here, but that part isn’t ready yet.

Upstairs. With the bakery gone, Upstairs has the whole building to itself. I saw four lovely tables on the ground floor with — gasp! — white tablecloths and formal glassware. It actually looks like a pleasant place to dine, certainly not the case when I visited three years ago, and promptly crossed it off my list. There is no longer a menu posted outside, but a sign on the door announces various prix fixe sushi specials, presumably still available on the second floor.

Bouley Restaurant. This is now open in the old Mohawk Atelier building, on a scale of unprecedented luxury. There’s a private dining room on the lower level with a separate entrance. The kitchen features panoramic windows facing the street. If you can’t afford to eat at Bouley, you can press your nose to the glass and watch him (or more likely, his minions) cook for those who can. It’s a gutsy move—a new take on the idea of an “open kitchen.” There’s no menu posted, at the restaurant or online. I’m in no rush to visit until I read a few more reports, but I may stop in for a drink sometime soon.

Corton

[Kreiger via Eater]

Note: Click here for a review of Corton on Valentine’s Day 2009, and here for a later visit in August 2009.

Dinner at the new restaurant Corton is like a double homecoming. It marks the return of chef Paul Liebrandt, last seen in New York during a brief, controversial tenure at Gilt. And it marks the return of the iconic space once the home of Montrachet, now almost unrecognizable after a stunning make-over.

Liebrandt has made waves wherever he cooked, but mainly he is known for acclaimed cuisine in restaurants that didn’t last very long. His last restaurant, Gilt, has survived—perhaps even thrived—but Liebrandt himself was forced out after disappointing reviews, including just two stars from Frank Bruni at a place clearly designed for three, or even four. I’m one of many who thought Bruni really missed the boat, but his reviews, not mine, are the ones that count.

Montrachet was the place that put chef David Bouley and restauranteur Drew Nieporent on the map in TriBeCa. Bouley left to start his own place, but Montrachet remained a successful three-star restaurant under a long line of chefs. The Times demoted it to two stars in 2004, and it finally closed in 2006 after an impressive 21-year run.

At Corton, which opened about a month ago, the foodies are once again rapturous over Paul Liebrandt’s cooking. He has toned down his act a bit. The three-course prix fixe at Liebrandt’s Gilt was $92, and many dishes carried high supplements. The wine list there included Screaming Eagle at $1,000 a glass. Gilt, indeed, was an appropriate name.

At Corton, the three-course prix fixe is $77, and the wine list is priced for a recession. No one would call Corton inexpensive, but it is priced like a restaurant that wants to earn its laurels, rather than one that presumes they are inevitable.

Since Montrachet, Drew Nieporent has opened one successful restaurant after another, including Tribeca Grill and the Nobu chain. The man knows how to open restaurants, and he is taking Corton very seriously. He was working the floor on a Saturday night, acting as maitre d’ and even busing tables. Originally, I was offered an 8:45 p.m. reservation, which was a bit later than I wanted. When Nieporent had a cancellation, he called me personally that evening to say we could come in early.

The cuisine at Corton is still recognizably Liebrandt’s—especially his love of beets—but it’s a far cry from the Gilt days. This is still luxury cuisine, but he’s not packing two dozen ingredients to the square inch, as he did before. If you’re familiar with his wilder self, it’s impossible to eat at Corton without hoping that the unrestrained Liebrandt will make a comeback. But if Corton is a success, there will be time for that later on.

  

You get a sense for the more laid-back Liebrandt with the amuses-bouches, which are simple and effective (above). The bread service came with two contrasting butters, but the baguettes weren’t as soft as I’d like.

 

For the starter, I ordered the Veal Sweetbreads (above left). You can’t see it in a photo, but there’s a poached egg under there too. After you puncture it, the egg yolk and the sweetbreads combine to pack a terrific flavor punch.

Foie Gras (above right) was wrapped in a hibiscus-beet gelée—a typical Liebrandt dish, perfectly executed.

 

Squab (above left) came wrapped in smoked bacon with a chestnut crème and a milk foam. This was a beautiful dish, though I can also imagine that a certain critic might complain about the hockey puck-sized fillets on the plate. The preparation was first-rate, but some might prefer to see visual evidence that this actually came from a bird.

The Filet of Black Angus Beef (above right) was the rare example of beef in a non-steakhouse restaurant that is actually worthwhile, even though the prepration seems comparatively simple. Yes, there are beets on that plate too, with an Oxtail confit.

 

Robert Truitt’s desserts are wonderful. I’m afraid I didn’t take note of the palate cleanser (above left). We had the ‘Crème Cake’ with amaretto, orange, and vanilla-tamarind (above right) and the cheese selection (below right), and the meal concluded with an impressive selection of petits-fours.

 

The legendary Montrachet wine list, sadly, was auctioned off a couple of years ago, and sommelier Elizabeth Harcourt had to start from scratch. Its current incarnation certainly can’t match the old one, but there are some impressive bargains here. Two full pages headed “French Country Wines” feature bottles between $30–60, including plenty, both white and red, below $45. That is practically unheard of these days, especially in a restaurant at this price range.

At $75 and under, you’ll have plenty of options. Indeed, though I told her I was willing to spend that much, she recommended a 2006 Lirac at just $50. That is the largest gap I can remember between my budget and a sommelier’s suggestion. It shows that Corton is serious about earning repeat business with a wine program that doesn’t break the bank.

The in-house wine list is only 15 pages, with an additional 25 pages’ worth on a “reserve list” that is kept offsite, and can only be ordered in advance. Almost all of those wines are priced above what I would spend, even on a special occasion, but keeping them offsite limits diners’ flexibility and eliminates the possibility of an impulse buy.

Service was polished and confident: you wouldn’t think this restaurant is just a month old. The early part of the meal was a bit rushed. We ordered champagne to begin, and we thought we were sending obvious cues that we didn’t want to order food instantly. The staff seemed, if anything, a bit nervous that we would feel offended if we were just left alone for a while.

The restaurant was about 80% full—not bad, but probably not where they want to be on a Saturday night. Liebrandt is a first-class talent, in in Drew Nieporent he has a partner who knows how to steer a restaurant through a recession. Let’s hope they get the recognition they deserve.

Corton (239 West Broadway between Walker & White Streets, TriBeCa)

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