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: *

The Payoff: Secession

Update: Scorecard added to bottom of post…

Today, as expected, Frank Bruni laid a goose-egg on David Bouley’s TriBeCa Titanic, Secession:

Menus this epic and indefinable can certainly work, as long as the majority of dishes are appealing in and of themselves. But when as many are as unremarkable or off key as they were at Secession the production comes across as slapdash, undisciplined…

Not much of what emerged from Secession’s seemingly overburdened kitchen rose far above mediocrity. And there were instances of outright sloppiness.

Bruni’s review exactly channels our own experience, from the cold terrines down to the grumpy coat-check woman. (Yes, she was rude to us too.) How hard is it to find someone to check coats with a smile?

Where does Secession go from here? I think Bouley needs to ditch about three-fourths of the menu, hire a new chef de cuisine, and find a new drill sergeant to run the front-of-house.

Thanks to this week’s rather generous odds, we and Eater both win $5 on our hypothetical $1 bets.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$101.50		$120.67
Gain/Loss	+5.00		+5.00
Total	$106.50		$125.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	47–21		49–19

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

Rolling the Dice: Secession

Every week, we take our turn with Lady Luck on the BruniBetting odds as posted by Eater. Just for kicks, we track Eater’s bet too, and see who is better at guessing what the unpredictable Bruni will do. We track our sins with an imaginary $1 bet every week.

By popular demand—okay, two or three folks asked for it—Rolling the Dice has returned for the first time since July.

The Line: Tomorrow, we have a doozy, as Frank Bruni tackles the TriBeCa trainwreck, David Bouley’s Secession. The Eater oddsmakers have set the action as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 5-1 √√
One Star: 3-1
Two Stars: 6-1
Three Stars: 60-1
Four Stars: 20,000-1

The Skinny: We didn’t like Secession, and we don’t know anyone who did. Eater already gave ample reasons for predicting the goose-egg, which we’ll amplify. Steve Cuozzo liked it, and Cuozzo is practically the anti-Bruni.

Bruni doesn’t like phoned-in restaurants with consulting chefs on the roster and more than 70 items on the menu. He’s not especially fond of French cuisine, which this mostly is. He takes offense at over-priced mediocrity, and faux luxury.

Alain Ducasse’s Benoit managed to eke out an unenthusiastic one-star review. But Benoit, uneven though it is, at least feels authentic. Secession feels fake, and it will take a lot more than just modest tweaks to fix it. You get the sense that Bouley needs a wake-up call. Our man Bruni is the man to deliver it.

The Bet: For the return of “Rolling the Dice,” we thought hard about bucking the Eater prediction. The trouble is, we just can’t make the one-star case. We’re not saying it can’t happen, but we don’t see it.

We agree with Eater that Frank Bruni will award no stars to Secession.

Can't These Guys Name a Restaurant?

According to Grub Street, the former Grayz space will re-open in January as “Atria”. [Update: Atria closed in April 2009 after four short months in existence.]

That’s better than “Gneiss,” the last name these geniuses came up with, which lasted all of two weeks.

But still, if you’re going to walk back a dumb-ass idea, is “Atria” the best you can do? It’s rather generic, and says nothing about the identity of Chef Martin Brock’s cuisine.

At least we know that “Atria” will have an atrium—surely an indispensable reason for dining there.

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.

Kefi

[Kreiger via Eater]

If you’re an ethical food blogger—don’t snicker, that’s not an oxymoron—what do you do when a restaurant in its first week is a disaster? Do you assume the problems will eventually be worked out? Or do you call it like it is?

As of today, the new Kefi is a disaster—a blunder by two smart people who should have known better. The question is, how much can they improve? We figure that Michael Psilakis and Donatella Arpaia—chef and restauranteur respectively—will do their best to get it right. Yet, much of what is wrong stems from a misguided concept that is not easily fixed.

Let’s be blunt: this is their third restaurant together, and more are coming. Psilakis and Arpaia were both in the house on Saturday night, but that won’t last long. After the critics have come through, they’ll both be spending their time elsewhere.

In at least 10 visits to her various restaurants, this is the first time I’ve ever seen Arpaia. And in my experience, her restaurants do not improve with time. She has too many of them, along with other projects, to give the loving attention they need, and apparently she cannot find, or has not found, the right staff to manage them in her stead.

Here’s the background: Psilakis opened Onera on the Upper West Side, a Greek take on haute cuisine that critics liked, but wasn’t suited to the neighborhood. He turned it into an inexpensive casual place called Kefi, which didn’t take reservations or even credit cards. Meanwhile, the haute Greek idea was reborn as Anthos in a fancier midtown location, earning a Michelin star in its first year. Those aren’t the only restaurants Psilakis and Arpaia have been involved in, or rumored to be working on, but we’ll leave the history lesson there.

Kefi was a big hit. We were impressed. So were the critics. Peter Meehan filed a rave in $25 & Under. There was lots of love on the BruniBlog. But Kefi had a problem: it had only 70 seats, and waits to get in were interminable. So Psilakis and Arpaia decided to move several blocks away, where they could triple the space, and where they could finally accept reservations and credit cards.

I appreciate that Psilakis and Arpaia hated turning customers away. Yet, there was a grave risk that, in moving to a space 200% larger, the concept would lose its charm. That is exactly what has happened: stadium dining at its worst. The new Kefi feels like a theater district barn, geared to churn out hundreds of meals at a breakneck pace. The only difference is that Kefi doesn’t slow down at 8:00.

There are four rooms on two levels, each with its own design personality. (In this, it resembles Mia Dona, another Psilakis/Arpaia property.) This choice was supposed to “keep Kefi’s intimate appeal,” but it doesn’t work that way. The host station is inexplicably near the back of the first floor, so you have to navigate the clotted bar just to ask for your table.

This unfortunate intersection is adjacent to the kitchen, so runners with food and busboys with dirty dishes have to fight their way through the same space where diners not yet seated are forced to congregate. Staff and customers must also share a narrow winding staircase that leads to two downstairs dining rooms, and also to the restrooms. Anyone who works here will get plenty of exercise. This restaurant really needed a dumbwaiter.

Our adventure did not start well: they had lost our reservation. “We’ll accommodate you,” our hostess generously offered, after conferring with Ms. Arpaia. A better response might have been, “We apologize for misplacing your reservation.” I know that customers are sometimes mistaken or even deceitful about bookings they claim to have made, but a new and obviously disorganized restaurant might want to consider giving the benefit of the doubt.

Kefi was packed when we arrived, and it was packed when we left. It had the usual problems of a restaurant suddenly serving triple the number of guests. Runners were frequently confused about where to deliver food. This happened not just at our table, but everywhere. Most dishes came out not quite warm enough. This, too, happened repeatedly. Kefi is tightly packed, so it was not difficult to overhear the complaints. Plates were dropped off without silverware. Appetizer plates were cleared while leaving dirty silverware behind.

House-made sausage ($7.50; above left) was the best thing we had: tender, a bit spicy, and served at the right temperature. Greek salad ($6.50; above right) was pedestrian. Meatballs ($6.25; above right) had potential, but they were served lukewarm.

For the main course, I ordered the braised lamb shank ($15.95), as I had done at the former location. The plating last time (above left) is more careful, with the bed of orzo covering the plate and flecks of green on the shank itself. The version of it served on Saturday (above right) was a much lazier try, with the food carelessly dumped on the plate. The lamb shank itself was just fine, but with sufficient brazing any meat naturally would be.

Moussaka ($11.95; above left) and  Creamed Spinach ($5.50; above right) were both average. Neither one was served quite warm enough.

Dessert was alleged to be Sesame Sorbet ($3.95; above left), though it sure tasted like ice cream to us. Whatever it was, it was too tart.

If there’s a bright spot at Kefi, it’s the all-Greek wine list. There are tasting notes for each bottle, which is thoughtful of them, as these appellations will be utterly unfamiliar to most diners. Many bottles are very reasonably priced For $48 I was pleased with the 2001 Grande Reserve Naoussa Boutari (above right). If it were French, restaurants would sell it for twice as much.

Prices remain the saving grace at Kefi. We had three appetizers, two entrées, a side dish and a bottle of wine for just $105.60, before tax and tip. That’s a bargain by today’s standards, though it is still no excuse for serving lukewarm food in a charmless atmosphere. The new place still has Kefi’s name, but none of its appeal, other than low prices.

Ms. Arpaia came downstairs multiple times during our visit. But we never noticed her stopping at any table to ask how it was going. “She doesn’t look happy,” my girlfriend said. We passed her coming down as we were leaving. You’d think she might have said, “Thanks for coming.” Naturally, she did not.

Perhaps Psilakis and Arpaia will be able to whip this place into shape, but I doubt it. They have too many other projects, and too many of the problems are design flaws that are virtually impossible to fix. Even if they ace it, this place cannot duplicate the original Kefi’s charms. They should not have sullied its good name.

I am not going to pronounce Kefi a failure after just six nights of service. This chef and this owner have earned the right to prove they can do better. They have their work cut out for them.

Kefi (505 Columbus Avenue between 84th–85th Streets, Upper West Side)

Food: good, when it is served warm enough
Service: confused
Atmosphere: a dining stadium
Overall: incomplete

10 Downing

Note: This is a review under Chef Jason Neroni, who left the restaurant in September 2009. Jonathan Leiva replaced him. The restaurant has since closed, as did its successor, La Villette.

*

If you want to know when a restaurant will open, just double the estimate. When they plan to open in a month, it’ll take two. When they say six months, it’ll be a year. Even openings less than a week away are seldom a sure thing.

Then there’s 10 Downing, which finally opened in the West Village on November 12, after more delays than almost any restaurant in memory. In the Times’ fall preview, on September 2, Florence Fabricant reported that the restaurant would be opening “Next Wednesday.” But that wasn’t the first such promise: 10 Downing had the dubious distinction of appearing in the fall preview two years running.

As early as August 2007, the chef—then projected to be Scott Bryan, formerly of three-star Veritas—sat for an interview with Food & Wine, and described his plans with some specificity. Exasperated by the delays, Bryan left the project. By December, Jason Neroni had replaced him, with Katy Sparks “consulting.” We’ll skip the chronicle of the restaurant’s many postponements. Suffice it to say that dates were announced and retracted many times over the past year, before the place finally opened last month.

We had some healthy skepticism about Neroni. Since winning two stars from Frank Bruni at 71 Clinton—a restaurant I didn’t love—he has bounced around from project to project, including the disastrous Porchetta in Brooklyn. But he is still a bona fide talent, so why on earth does he need a superfluous “consultant” at his elbow, especially the peripatetic and overrated Katy Sparks?

The concept left me wondering whether 10 Downing would be a mindless clone of six dozen other places. A breathless Andrea Strong announced that Neroni would “create a collaborative, market-driven menu that will draw upon the goods at the Union Square, and Sixth Avenue farmer’s markets.” Wow! Who’d have dreamt it?

Well, after all that, 10 Downing has arrived, and my verdict is a cautious endorsement. If Neroni stays put, this could become a very good restaurant. My girlfriend and I both started with the Duck Meatball Cassoulet ($12; left), and it was terrific. The meatballs were tender and full of flavor. The beans were hearty and well seasoned.

This dish wasn’t on the opening menu, so I gather Neroni is adding things regularly, as a purportedly market-driven chef should be. While I was waiting at the bar, Neroni brought out a pile of spoons and a container of sauce, which he asked all the servers to try so that they could describe it to their customers.

Neither of the entrées impressed us as much. Chicken ($23; above left) and Atlantic Cod ($25; above right) were solid, but unelectrifying choices. That chicken, by the way, was originally offered for two, at $43, but as of last Friday it was available as a hearty portion for one.

10 Dowining is priced a tad below other restaurants in its peer group. The highest entrée is $28, the highest appetizer $14 (with many just $9). I found a very respectable red wine for $40. The total bill was just $115 before tax and tip, which is extremely reasonable for food of this quality.

The space is smartly decorated, with a wall of glass doors looking out over Sixth Avenue. When the weather improves, there will be a large outdoor café. The medium-sized dining room is comfortable, but it can get a bit loud. Service was generally up to par, though a bit less attentive after the place filled up. I loved the warm bread rolls.

It’s hard to forecast the trajectory of a new restaurant, but 10 Downing is already respectable, and if Neroni keeps re-inventing and refining his menu, it could turn out to be a lot of fun.

10 Downing (10 Downing Street at Sixth Avenue, West Village)

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

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.