Park Avenue Summer

Note: Click here for a more recent, more favorable, review of Park Avenue Spring.

*

When I heard about Park Avenue Summer, I didn’t know if the concept was ingenius or the world’s dumbest gimmick. Craig Koketsu is the chef, and I love what he’s done at Quality Meats. You figure the former chef de cuisine at Lespinasse can’t go too far wrong. AvroKO handled the décor, and they hit a home run just about every time (Quality Meats, Public, and many others).

Amuse-bouche: Watermelon topped with yogurtThe idea is that the restaurant will change its name four times a year. With mid-September approaching, the place will close any day now, and re-open as Park Avenue Autumn with a brand new menu.

The wall panels—right now a summery yellow, adorned with sea shells—are removable, and there are three other versions of them, so that the restaurant can re-invent itself with each change of the seasons. But many restaurants change their menu seasonally, or indeed more often. Is the seasonal makeover really necessary?

The menu is no bargain. Appetizers are $11–18, entrées $28–45 (most in the 30s), side dishes $4–12. At those prices the restaurant has to be more than merely ordinary, and alas, we weren’t impressed.

The amuse-bouche was one of the better tries: a square of watermelon with a swirl of yogurt on top. The kitchen also did right by Maine Sea Scallops ($15), garnished with peaches and almond granola. The scallops were nicely seared, and the ingredients worked well together. But my girlfriend’s ravioli ($14) really misfired. It was slightly cold and definitely under-cooked. 

 
Maine Sea Scallops (left); John Dory (right)

John Dory ($34) came with summer truffles and a poached egg. The fish was competently done, but the truffles weren’t integrated into the dish. They seemed to be an afterthought, there to impart a faux elegance. My girlfriend ordered the Fire-Roasted Lamb Chops ($39), but she tasted no fire in them at all. There was no sear, and they tasted rather bland.

Heirloom tomato risottoThere was a printed specials menu with an heirloom tomato theme. We ordered a side of the heirloom tomato risotto, which we found to be the best thing that came out of Koketsu’s kitchen. It was a sign that better things are possible at Park Avenue Summer.

We weren’t much impressed with the AvroKO décor, which seemed cheesy—like something out of a cruise ship. The traffic pattern is awkward, with food runners frequently passing through the lobby area. Strangely, the bar has no seating. There is a small lounge with only a few seats, where (as the story goes) you get to mix your own drinks, but we didn’t investigate it further.

We found the wine list way over-priced, much like the rest of the restaurant, with few bottles of interest below $50. Service at the beginning of the meal was a bit rushed, as if they wanted us out of there, but at the end our server disappeared, and it was hard to find someone to bring us a check. The twenty-something hostesses seemed clueless.

Chef Craig KoketsuThe crowd was very Upper East Side, youngish, and 100% caucasian. So far, it’s a tough table to book, which may say something about the paucity of alternatives in that neighorhood.

The restaurant has been largely ignored by the major critics, perhaps an act of kindness. The closest thing to a mainstream review came from the always generous Randall Lane in Time Out New York, who awarded an inconceivable five stars out of six.

I have to think that Craig Koketsu is capable of doing better. But as of now, alas, Park Avenue Summer is the world’s dumbest gimmick. Save your money, and go elsewhere.

Park Avenue Summer (100 E. 63rd Street at Park Avenue, Upper East Side)

Food: Uneven
Service: Average
Ambiance: Cruise ship
Overall: Needs work

Table d'Hôte

What is it with Carnegie Hill and small French bistros? About a year ago, the Times published a profile of the neighborhood’s better restaurants. Three of the five mentioned were French bistros within a square block of 92nd and Madison. What also stood out was that, although this is one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Manhattan, it apparently does not suport expensive restaurants: none of the Times recommendations was particularly pricey.

For now, the neighborhood’s best known restaurant is Sfoglia, but thanks to Frank Bruni’s rave review a few weeks ago, you can forget about getting in there on anything less than a month’s notice. When I had an evening engagement in the area last week, I chose Table d’Hôte instead, partly because I knew my guest had a weak spot for anything French.

Table d’Hôte is a tiny restaurant, with only about ten or twelve small tables. It appeals to a slightly older crowd: my friend and I, both in our 40s, seemed to be among the youngest patrons. There’s nothing fancy about the décor, although it might remind you of about a hundred places you’ve seen on the side streets in European cities.

The menu is a mixture of French and Moroccan favorites. If you order à la carte, appetizers are $8.00–$13.50, and entrées are available either in tasting portions at $14.00–17.50, or full portions of $19.00–26.00. A $26.50 prix fixe gets you a soup or green salad, a tasting portion of an entrée, and dessert.

We had a $23.50 prix fixe, offered only from 5:00–7:00 p.m. with more limited choices: green salad or purée of vegetable soup to start; chicken paillard, hangar steak, or seared salmon to continue; and crème caramel or ice cream for dessert. I probably had the better of it with the vegetable soup, which was creamy and delicious. But chicken paillard was a bit too dry, while my friend’s hangar steak was rare and tender.

The wine list, though short, had a number of bargains (comparatively speaking), and we were pleased with a Crozes–Hermitage for $38. The bill for two was $85 before tax and tip, which these days isn’t bad at all.

Table d’Hôte (44 East 92nd Street between Madison & Park Avenues, Carnegie Hill, Upper East Side)

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

Daniel

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

My girlfriend and I had dinner at Daniel last Saturday night, the first visit for both of us. Daniel (pronounced “dahn-YELL”) is one of three French restaurants carrying the top honor of four stars from The New York Times. It is also the only remaining four-star restaurant not yet reviewed by Frank Bruni, the current critic.

The only clue to what Bruni might think of Daniel came in a December 2004 Diner’s Journal piece about one of chef Daniel Boulud’s other restaurants, Cafe Boulud:

I dropped by Cafe Boulud the other night. I went because I had recently visited the chef Daniel Boulud’s other two Manhattan restaurants but not this one, which happens to be many of my acquaintances’ hands-down favorite of the three. I can see why. It doesn’t have the starched self-consciousness of Daniel or the cheeky swagger of DB Bistro Moderne.

The reference to “starched self-consciousness” is entirely typical of Bruni, and suggests he doesn’t find Daniel as exciting as his predecessors did. Given his many other comments about similar restaurants, it also suggests that he simply doesn’t enjoy this style of dining.

We found nothing starchy about Daniel, except for whatever the laundry put in the table cloths. We found it polished, professional, and nearly perfect. It is perhaps the most “old school” of the three four-star French restaurants, which may explain Bruni’s hostility to it, and may also explain why Daniel received just two Michelin stars, while Le Bernardin and Jean Georges received three.

I’ve got the time only for a whirlwind tour of our meal at Daniel. We started with a tray of petits-fours (above, right). We continued with the six-course tasting menu ($155) with wine pairings ($75).

There were two choices for each course. We agreed on the first: Foie Gras Terrine (above, left), which was excellent, although not as special as the Foie Gras Brulé we so much enjoyed at Jean Georges. But foie gras can’t really be screwed up. We order the foie gras whenever a tasting menu offers it (which they usually do), and we’re seldom disappointed.

For me, next up was the Yuzu Marinated Snapper (above, right), which I found far too bland—the only dud of the evening. My girlfriend chose the Crab Salad, of which I had a taste. This was delightful, and put the marinated snapper to shame.

At the risk of being boring, I’ve nothing to say about Wild Mushroom Ravioli (above, left), except again that it was excellent. So was Dover Sole, which we attacked so quickly that I forgot to photograph it.

Last among the savory courses was the Due of Dry-Aged Beef (above,right). The “duo” is ribeye and short rib. It’s evidently one of Chef Boulud’s signature items, as it’s always on the menu. I always say that even a four-star restaurant can’t do steak like a good classic steakhouse, but this was one of the better “fine dining” renditions of steak that I’ve had.

We diverged again for the desserts; mine is the one on the left, hers the one on the right. We were feeling plenty festive by this point, and I’m afraid the desserts didn’t make much of an impression. You can see the photos and imagine them for yourself.

A wonderful tray of sweets and a bowl of warm sugar puffs (both pictured at right) concluded our meal on a high note.

I have not noted the wines, but this was one of the better pairings we’ve had, both as to the quality and the progression from one pour to the next.

Throughout the evening, we were thoroughly impressed with the service. It was never pompous or obsequious, simply correct in every possible way.

Daniel has a larger dining room than the other four-star restaurants, and there is a very large serving brigade. But they move through the room quietly and efficiently, never noticeable except when they should be.

The room won’t be to all tastes. We found it a bit over-the-hill, although we were impressed with the custom-designed bone china.

Except in Frank Bruni’s mind, there is nothing wrong—or at least, there shouldn’t be—with doing classic things well. We won’t visit Daniel every week, or even every year. When we are in the mood for that special kind of elegance, it’s wonderful to know that it’s there.

Daniel (60 E. 65th Street west of Park Avenue, Upper East Side)

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

Vespa

The other night, a friend suggested dinner at Vespa, a trattoria on the Upper East Side. I had never heard of it before, but a little research suggested that a lovely outdoor garden is its claim to fame. This being February, we dined indoors. It was Monday evening, and the restaurant was practically empty.

Speck & Artichoke Hearts


Beets & Goat CheeseThe menu changes seasonally; the winter 2007 menu is currently posted on the website. Appetizers are $8–11, pastas $15–18, meat and fish entrees $18.50–26.50, and side dishes $5. There choices are primarily Italian standards, but all prepared with a high degree of care.

My friend started with the Speck (smoked prosciutto) & Artichoke Hearts ($9), which I didn’t taste, but she seemed pleased with it.

The Beet & Goat Cheese Salad ($9) was a nicely balanced dish, including bits of blood orange and walnuts, with aged balsamic dressing. Beet salad has become rather common around town, but I seldom order it. This dish made me realize I should re-assess that.

 
Lasagna Bolognese (left); Pappardelle with Lamb Ragu (right)

My friend swears by the Lasagne Bolognese with mushrooms ($17.50), and from the taste I had of it, I can see why. The flavor was hearty and intense. I thought that Pappardelle with Lamb Ragu ($17.50) tasted a little more generic. I had to remind myself that I was eating lamb, and not just standard red sauce.

The space is appealing and comfortable, and the service was just fine. Vespa is a great place to have in the neighborhood. Indeed, I wish my neighborhood had one.

Vespa (1625 Second Avenue between 84th & 85th Streets, Upper East Side)

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

Etats-Unis

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Etats-Unis.

Etats-Unis is an informal 30-seat restaurant on the Upper East Side—and the unexpected recipient of a Michelin star.  It is one of the most accessible and least pretentious restaurants to have been accorded that honor.

The restaurant opened in 1991. After a less-than-ecstatic Diner’s Journal write-up from Bryan Miller in 1992, it received two stars in the Times from Ruth Reichl in 1993. Remarkably for a restaurant of its age, not much seems to have changed.

Despite the French name, the cooking at Etats-Unis isn’t moored to any geographic region. It is hearty comfort food that could vaguely be described as New American. The menu changes daily, based on available seasonal ingredients, with only five appetizers and an equal number of entrees on offer. Portions are quite large, and generally rich in high-calorie ingredients.

The wine list is reasonably priced, and I was gratified to see a large selection of half-bottles, an option far more restaurants should offer.

I started with grilled scallops ($16) on a bed of squash. The scallops were seasoned with a dash of pepper, and like much of the menu, grilled on a charcoal oven. There were three of them, which was more than generous at the price; many a scallop appetizer would come with just one or two. The squash was at room temperature, which to my preference wasn’t warm enough. I couldn’t tell if this was a miscue, or deliberate.

My friend’s mozzarella salad ($16) had an almost ethereal creamy softness.
 
Braised shortribs ($28) came in an enormous portion, especially considering the heap of spinach and a steamed artichoke on the side. I couldn’t find any fault with this dish, but after the large appetizer I was already filling up, and had to leave half of it behind.

My friend’s rack of lamb ($36) was also excellent, and (as you would expect) a large portion, with a mound of crisp potatoes au gratin.

 
There are four desserts available, but two of them are baked from scratch, and have to be selected at the time you order the rest of your meal. Not realizing what we were in for, we both took the plunge. Even at a restaurant with more restrained portion sizes, either of these desserts could easily be shared. Other tables seemed to know this, and in hindsight I think the server should have said something.

Date pudding ($10) came bathed in carmelized rum sauce and whipped cream. It would win the award for richest dessert in town, if it wasn’t for the chocolate soufflé ($12), which is an even more sinful choice. They were excellent, but we were by now completely stuffed, and finished less than half of both.

There is not much space to maneuver when the restaurant is full, but despite that limitation, service was without fault. The kitchen is tiny. For its size, the quality of what comes out is remarkable.

Etats-Unis (242 East 81st Street between 2nd & 3rd Avenues, Upper East Side)

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

Le Boeuf à la Mode

Note: Le Boeuf à la Mode closed in June 2008. As of 2011, the space is an American bistro, East End Kitchen.

*

Le Boeuf à la Mode is one of the last remaining classic French bistros, in a city that was once full of “Le” and “La” restaurants. It’s run by the same French family that founded it in 1962, and one suspects the menu hasn’t changed much in all that time. Thanks to a renovation in the 1990s, it doesn’t have the same time-warp feeling as Le Veau d’Or, and it is also a bit larger.

However, one is still acutely aware of a bygone era. My friend and I are in our 40s, and we were surely the youngest people there. The restaurant, which seats 90, was less than half full. In the most recent New York Times review—perhaps the only one—John Canaday awarded two stars in 1975.

We ordered the four course prix fixe at $38.50. A duck mousse terrine was uncomplicated, but offered all the simple pleasure such a dish should. I am fairly certain the soup was the same cream of leek that John Canaday raved about, though to my taste it was merely average. Chicken breast stuffed with spinach and goat cheese (a recited special) was excellent. I seldom order chicken in a restaurant, but the promise of goat cheese was enough to tempt me, and I wasn’t disappointed. For dessert, a blueberry tart was rather forgettable.

Le Boeuf à la Mode’s perch on 81st Street is too far out-of-the-way for me to consider becoming a regular. Besides, I liked Le Veau d’Or’s ancient charm slightly better, and it is closer. But if you are hungry for the old-fashioned French classics, Le Boeuf is certainly worth a look.

Le Boeuf à la Mode (539 East 81st Street between First and York Avenues, Upper East Side)

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

Le Veau d'Or

Le Veau d’Or (“The Golden Calf”) has been serving traditional French cuisine since 1937. They say it has hardly changed since then. The owner, Robert Tréboux, who lives upstairs, looks like he’s about 85. The only waiter appears to be about 75. The lavatories probably haven’t been renovated since the Eisenhower administration.

Craig Claiborne awarded four stars in the 1960s. The last rated review I can find comes from Mimi Sheraton in 1977. She awarded one star, but it almost sounds like she’s describing a different place:

One recommended formula for success in the restaurant business is to have a jam-packed, noisy, elbow-to-elbow setting with plenty of bumping and pushing among waiters and clientele and an overall atmosphere suggestive of a subway rush. The idea, supposedly, is that everyone wants to be where everyone else wants to be and that such a place is necessarily part of the “in” scene. It is a theory that certainly gains credence at Le Veau d’Or, the 31-year-old, very authentic French bistro…

Recent visits indicated, unfortnately, that although the three-deep scene at the bar is still intact, and waiters continue practically to trample patrons standing at the door so they can serve the awkwardly placed front tables, the food is not nearly what it used to be, with only a few exceptions. The myth, apparently, is outliving the reality.

Sheraton considered the prices “moderately high,” the wines “overpriced,” and the atmosphere “jammed, noisy, attractive.” 

As far as I can find, the last Times critic to mention it was William Grimes, in an article called “The Restaurants That Time Forgot.”

Not long ago, a stylish South American woman walked into Le Veau d’Or, a small French bistro near Bloomingdale’s. She had not set foot in the place for 40 years, but looking around, all seemed in order. The décor remained intact, with the painting of a calf sleeping in bed, the covers pulled up under its chin. The menu, a rote recitation of bistro classics, certainly hadn’t changed. But something was not quite right. “Have you changed some of the waiters?” she asked suspiciously. Robert Treboux, the owner, tried to break the news gently. “I told her, ‘Some have died, some have gotten rich,’” he said. “It was a very funny question.”

I’ve been thinking of a visit to Le Veau d’Or for about a year now. My mom is in town, and she loves nothing more than classic French cooking. A review in this week’s Sun reminded me. It was time to give it a try.

You might think that no one under sixty visits Le Veau d’Or, but you’d be wrong. We actually saw young people there. Their presence gives hope that Le Veau d’Or could be with us for a long while—assuming Monsieur Tréboux and his heirs hold on.

The menu at Le Veau d’Or is as classic as it gets, but you don’t need to be on Social Security to appreciate it. Whatever your age, you’ll love the prices. M. Tréboux owns the place free-and-clear, and he has no need to jack up the bill. You get three courses for around $30, all impeccably prepared. One of the best wines we’ve had in a while was just $42 for the bottle.

We started with the escargots ($8 suppl.), and if anyone is preparing it better, we’d like to know who it is. It was decadent as all get-out. What’s not to like about garlic and melted butter? We happily mopped up every drop with the French bread. Duck with cherry sauce ($29) came with wild rice and a helping of potatoes au gratin that could easily become addictive. The duck was perhaps a bit dry, but I didn’t leave a morsel behind, and it was an ample portion (half the bird).

Rum parfait was nothing complicated: chocolate ice cream with rum poured on top. But the waiter left the rum bottle, and I added plenty more. Coffee came, and we added rum to that too. They didn’t seem to mind.

Many other dishes appeared to be worth a look on future visits. Even after a full dinner, my mouth was watering at a half-rack of lamb, delivered to an adjacent party and carved tableside. Cassoulet also looked impressive. Many dishes are finished at the table, with sauces coming in gravy boats or large copper pots.

The serving staff (the lone waiter and a busboy) are occasionally confused. We got a good look at that cassoulet because it was delivered to our table by mistake. The waiter smiled wryly when we pointed out the error. Earlier, when my mom asked if the duck was good, he had a deadpan reply: “If it wasn’t good, we wouldn’t serve it.”

A few patrons at Le Veau d’Or wanted to practice their French. One man asked the watier, “Êtes-vous français?” “Non, je suis Americain,” replied the obviously French waiter.

The food came out a little slowly, but we were having a good time and were in no hurry. With less than half of the restaurant’s seventeen tables taken, they were in no rush to get rid of us. If we wanted, I think we could still be there.

My mom and I wished that my late father could have seen this place. There are few places like it any more—even in France. There’s a slightly frayed elegance to the bistro décor, as old French songs play in the background. Yet, it is entirely sincere. What’s not to love?

Le Veau d’Or (129 E. 60th Street between Park & Lexington Avenues, Upper East Side)

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

Sfoglia

Sfoglia has gotten its share of good press lately. Andrea Strong said, “I would consider a move Uptown for this restaurant.” In New York, Adam Platt was smitten, awarding three stars on his five-star scale.

I was nowhere near as impressed. I started with the cheese antipasto ($10), which comes with crackers and a house-made jam, while my friend started with the creamy polenta ($11). Both presentations were competent, though not revelatory. I moved on to the veal chop ($25), which was a nice hunk of tender flesh spiced with a hint of sambuca. My friend had the fish of the day, which I believe was halibut—a generously sized portion. She gave me a taste, and sure enough the kitchen had gotten it right.

But for all that, the restaurant is not very comfortable. Strong said, “the vibe is soft and sexy.” Well, Strong thinks something is sexy every week. It’s a faux rustic décor that is pleasant, but unremarkable. Our table for two didn’t allow much elbow room. Wine was served in water tumblers. Although it was a white wine, there was no ice bucket.

If I lived in the neighborhood, I’d pay a visit occasionally. Next time I go to the 92nd Street Y, I’ll consider it. But it’s not a dining destination.

Sfoglia (1402 Lexington Avenue at 92nd Street, Upper East Side)

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

Update: In March 2007, Frank Bruni awarded two stars to Sfoglia in the Times. Although entirely consistent with his past reviews of similar places (see Al di Là, Spigolo), it still feels like a one-star restaurant to me.

Shabu Shabu 70

A friend of mine has been itching to try shabu shabu ever since she saw it in the film Lost in Translation. I’ve had it several times in my life, including twice in Japan. While I wouldn’t want a steady diet of it, shabu shabu is always fun. There are only a handful of shabu shabu restaurants in New York, and as my friend lives on the Upper East Side, I decided to give Shabu Shabu 70 a try.

In case you’re not familiar with it, shabu shabu (Japanese for “swish swish”) is food that you cook yourself at the table in lightly spiced boiling water. Some restaurants offer a variety of meat, seafood, and vegetable platters, but Shabu Shabu 70 offers just beef or chicken ($20.50 pp, minimum of two); we chose the beef. You start with a platter of very thinly-sliced beef and another of vegetables (noodles, onions, carrots, mushrooms, greens, and tofu). The meat is so thin that each slice cooks in a matter of 15 to 20 seconds. The vegetables take a little longer.

When you decide that a piece is done, you fish it out of the boiling water with your chopsticks, dip it in one of the two sauces provided, and slurp it into your mouth (it tends to get a little messy). I don’t usually like to work for food I’m paying someone else to prepare, but I make an exception for shabu shabu, which never fails as a social activity, and is also quite tasty. As my friend pointed out, the ingredients are all very lean, so it’s a healthy meal too. By the time you’re done, the water takes on the taste of all the food, so the grand finale is to drink it as a soup.

In Japan, I’ve been to restaurants that do only shabu shabu, where the cooking apparatus is built right into the table. At Shabu Shabu 70, despite the name, they serve a wide variety of Japanese food, so the cooking apparatus is carried over to your table. We started with a couple of excellent sushi rolls ($4.50–7.50).

Service was friendly and helpful. The server could tell that we don’t do this every day, and came over several times to check up on us. I was also pleased that my bar tab was transferred over to the table, something far too many restaurants refused to do.

The décor is fairly plain, but for $20.50 apiece we got an enormous amount of food. Indeed, one reviewer suggested that four people could share a portion for two. With appetizers and dessert, that just might be the case. The lack of a seafood shabu shabu option was a bit perplexing, but the one option offered was plenty enjoyable.

Shabu Shabu 70 (314 E. 70th St. between First & Second Avenues, Upper East Side)

Food: *
Service: *½
Ambiance: okay, but undistinguished
Overall: *

Café Boulud

Note: This is a review under Chef Bertrand Chemel, who has since left the restaurant. Click here for a review under his replacement, Gavin Kaysen.

*

A friend has just celebrated her 45th birthday. For the occasion, I decided to take her to Café Boulud, the three-star sibling of Daniel Boulud’s four-star flagship, Daniel. I’ve heard great things about Café Boulud over the years, but Andrew Carmellini, the chef de cuisine to whom it owes its reputation, jumped ship recently to open A Voce, leaving the kitchen in the hands of Bertrand Chemel.

We weren’t blown away. One can never go too far wrong with seared foie gras ($26), but there was nothing distinguished about the preparation. Peking Duck ($36) was likewise competent, and an ample portion, but wasn’t special. My friend had a similar reaction to sweetbreads ($19) and hangar steak ($34). Her cheese course ($21) was one of the comparative bargains.

One server offered a special dessert, but moments later another server told us it was unavailable. The strawberry grati ($13) was just fine, although quickly forgotten.

On the plus side, I was impressed to see that the wine list had a full page of white wine selections under $60, and another full page with reds under $60. I’ve been to plenty of restaurants less ambitious than Café Boulud where the choices under $60 were few and far between.

With so much more to choose from on the menu, I hesitate to say that Café Boulud is coasting, but both of us found the cooking uninspired, given the price point.

Café Boulud (20 E. 76th St. between Fifth & Madison Avenues, Upper East Side)

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