Rolling the Dice: Scarpetta

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.

The Line: Tomorrow, Frank Bruni reviews Scott Conant’s comeback at the Meatpacking-adjacent Scarpetta. The Eater oddsmakers have set the action as follows:

Zero Stars: 12-1
One Star: 5-1
Two Stars: 3-1
Three Stars: 4-1 √√
Four Stars: 10,000-1

The Skinny: We’re reasonably confident that Scarpetta was designed as a two-star concept. The prices, the vibe, the service, all say two stars.

On rare occasions, Bruni has awarded a third star that the restaurant itself probably never planned on, with Dovetail being the most recent example. But that doesn’t happen often. It’s hard enough to get three stars when you’re trying to. An unintended third star is a blessing granted to very few.

Working in Scarpetta’s favor is the two-star kiss that Bruni blew at Bar Milano just four weeks ago. In a way, it’s an insult to the obviously superior Scarpetta to be saddled with the same two stars. With Italian restaurants and Bruni, it never hurts to figure on a star more than the restaurant deserves.

But we know the Italian restaurants Bruni really liked—Babbo, Felidia, Del Posto, A Voce (under Carmellini) and Alto the second time around. We are hard pressed to put Scarpetta in that league. Our 1½-star review may have under-rated it, but we’ve seldom been that far away from Bruni’s assessment.

The Bet: We are betting that Frank Bruni will award a very enthusiastic two stars to Scarpetta.

Forge

Sam Horine via Eater

Note: Forge has been renamed Marc Forgione, after an unrelated Miami restaurant complained that it had the original name trademarked. Click here for a more recent review.

Forge is the brainchild of Marc Forgione, whose more famous father, Larry Forgione, has been a big-name chef for thirty years. Son Marc has worked as a second fiddle in a number of places, most recently as Executive Chef at Laurent Tourondel’s BLT Prime.

I always say that if you want a successful restaurant, you should open near a bunch of other successful restaurants. Forgione followed that advice—not that he asked me—and opened right in the heart of TriBeCa. The look is the same rustic chic you could swear you’ve seen at about a dozen other places. You’ll have that same feeling about the menu, which offers standard New American bistro food.

As Forgione is not blazing any trails, the only question is whether he is doing the old standards well enough to make Forge better than just a decent neighborhood fallback. I can’t say that he is. The menu doesn’t range far or deep. With just six appetizers ($12–18) and six entrées ($26–34)—plus leg of suckling pig for two ($68)—there is a high premium on getting just about everything right. There are signs of higher aspirations here, but I found the food uneven.

The meal started on a promising note, with a terrific corn soup amuse-bouche. And I could have filled up on warm, soft dinner rolls with caramelized onion butter. If Forgione has learned anything from the BLT franchise, it’s a superb bread service.

The savory courses were a less happy story. A grilled fluke appetizer ($14) and a halibut entrée ($26) both seemed too tart and acidic. The fish were impeccably prepared, but the sauces seemed to overwhelm them with a bitter salty taste that I wouldn’t be eager to sample again.

A cheese plate ($12) was very solidly done, and the house comped a small pour of Sancerre to go with it.

Service was just fine, but I was in quite early, before the crowds. There is a large bar area, suggesting perhaps that management is hedging their bets as to what kind of restaurant this will be. The cocktail program is underwhelming: think raspberry lemonade with vodka. They were out of the sangria I ordered, as their supply of rum had run out.

For now, Forge strikes me as a slightly over-achieving American bistro, fighting for the destination crowd among many other restaurants that do a more dependable job at the same type of food.

Forge (134 Reade Street between Greenwich & Hudson Streets, TriBeCa)

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

The Payoff: Szechuan Gourmet

Was there ever any doubt? Yesterday, Frank Bruni awarded two stars to Szechuan Gourmet. Its flaws are considerable. The menu rambles (over 100 items), it’s not as good as Spicy & Tasty in Queens (also two stars), and:

It has its limitations: no hard liquor, a short list of wines you won’t yearn to drink, an even shorter list of desserts so negligible that servers don’t bother to ask if you want one before dropping the check. Meals here can be rushed, especially at lunch, when the restaurant is busiest.

But somehow it manages two stars anyway. It’s a pretty sure bet that Frank will do that when he’s in his “$25 & Under” mood, so we and Eater both win our hypothetical one-dollar bets at 2–1 odds.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$95.50		$119.67
Gain/Loss	+2.00		+2.00
Total	$97.50		$121.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	45–21		48–18

Matsugen

 

Note: Matsugen closed in March 2011, after failing consistently to draw crowds. Click here and here for more recent visits reviews.

*

Matsugen, which opened about a month ago in TriBeCa, is Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s latest Manhattan restaurant. It replaces 66, which I sort of liked, but which died a slow, natural death, and closed last year.

Vongerichten has had a long love affair with Asian Cuisine. Vong and Spice Market are both Thai-inspired, 66 was Chinese. At Matsugen, it’s Japanese. But at those earlier restaurants, Vongerichten was the nominal chef, even if he paid little attention to them after they opened. At Matsugen, the Matsushita brothers are running the kitchen. The only things Vongerichten supplied were the space and the chocolate cake recipe. Funnily enough, he wrote a blog post about dining at Matsugen, as if he were an ordinary customer.

An almost inconspicuous sign outside reads “Soba Cuisine,” but while there certainly is soba here, there’s a lot more, at a wide range of prices: appetizers ($6–65), salads ($8–39), tempura ($12–22), grilled items ($20–135), shabu-shabu ($52–160), rice dishes ($32–45), hot & cold soba ($14–36), sushi & sashimi à la carte ($4–10), and rolls ($5–12). To be fair, the higher-end prices are for luxury items like Wagyu beef, fatty tuna, and sea urchin. Typical prices are nearer the lower end of each range. Still, this has to be called a luxury restaurant.

So it’s hard to avoid the fact that the décor is rather charmless and ugly. I deliberately didn’t try to find the best angle. The photo (left) was the view from my table: an unadorned industrial column, white walls, spare tables, plain banquettes. Restaurant 66 wasn’t a beauty, but I don’t remember it being this barren. Maybe my memory is deceiving me.

The staff aren’t any more stylish than the space, but they are knowledgeable. When I asked about something to drink, I got a course in Sake 101. The explanation of the soba dishes rose to a graduate-level seminar. As I was alone, I didn’t really mind the explanation. But it does underscore the potential to be overwhelmed by the menu here.

Fortunately, when the food arrives your patience is repaid—maybe enough to make you forget the grim surroundings.

 

Sliced chilled asparagus was cool and crisp, but it was $15 for a small portion. An eel–cucumber roll ($8) was uncomplicated, but beautifully done. There was a nice contrast between the warm rice and the cold cucumber. The soft, fresh-ground wasabi put to shame the clumpy version of it that most sushi places serve.

That left the main event, Soba Goma Dare ($16), one of the simpler soba items on the menu. The noodles at Matsugen are offered three different ways, with a variety of accompaniments. I chose the darkest, huskiest noodles, served cold. They had a lively, bracing flavor that is difficult to describe.

A server brought over a funky-looking teapot (right) containing the hot broth that the noodles were supposedly cooked in. I was instructed to pour this broth into the bowl in which the noodles and condiments had been dipped (lower left of the photo above), and to drink it like a soup. This was the highlight of the meal, with all of those terrific flavors floating together in one bowl.

After $14 for a small carafe of sake (served in a bamboo box), this fairly modest dinner was $53 before tax and tip. As everything I ordered was near the low end of the range, it’s safe to say that most meals here will cost a lot more. Any Vongerichten restaurant is bound to attract plenty of attention, but I have to wonder if such an expensive, yet ugly, restaurant will be able to build up a loyal fan base. I’ll probably be back, but not on a regular basis.

Matsugen (241 Church Street between Leonard & Worth Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: Are negative stars allowed?
Overall: *½

Rolling the Dice: Szechuan Gourmet

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.

The Line: Tomorrow, Frank Bruni reviews Szechuan Gourmet. The Eater oddsmakers have set the action as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 12-1
One Star: 4-1
Two Stars: 2-1 √√
Three Stars: 8-1
Four Stars: 900-1

The Skinny: We’ve never been to Szechuan Gourmet (we know, we know…fifty lashes with a wet noodle), but Eater’s analysis is compelling. We’re not aware of a previous Times review, so there’s no existing rating that cries out for correction. Therefore, the only conceivable point of the review is that Bruni has something compelling to say. What could that be? In a city where zero-star Chinese is on almost every block, and one-star Chinese is in almost every neighborhood, two stars is the realistic minimum that could be worth calling attention to.

We assume that three-star restaurants don’t hide in plain sight, and in any case Bruni isn’t going to award the trifecta two weeks in a row. That leaves two stars as the only possibility.

The Bet: We agree with Eater that Frank Bruni will award two stars to Szechuan Gourmet.

The Payoff: Oceana

We’re rather late with this week’s edition of The Payoff, as in five days late. Our only excuse is that we’ve been busy.

Anyhow, the news is that Oceana is still great. Who knew? We all do now, thanks to last Wednesday’s three-star review from Frank Bruni:

I RARELY hear people chattering about Oceana anymore. They don’t mention it as a special-occasion restaurant they yearn to try. They don’t mention it as a favorite they circle back to.

Say the restaurant’s name even to some diners who diligently canvas the city’s dining scene, eager not to lose touch with anything noteworthy, and you can tell that Oceana has slipped away from them…

But more than a decade and a half since it opened, Oceana presses on, still proud, still vital, still very much worth boarding.

Its owners, the Livanos family, who also operate the Greek restaurant Molyvos and the Italian restaurant Abboccato, obviously care about Oceana, which they’ve steered through several chef changes: from Rick Moonen to Mr. Gallagher, and then to Ben Pollinger, who took over in late 2006.

Like a number of other people, I was skeptical when this review was announced. Given the rarity of re-reviews, I thought it made more sense to review Oceana when it moves next year, rather than now, when it’s nearing the end of a sixteen-year run in its old digs.

But Bruni made a persuasive case that the review made sense. Although he doesn’t admit it, about 90% of his reviews are really just confirmations of critical judgments the market has already made for itself. It isn’t often that he can actually draw attention to an excellent place the food cogniscenti had ignored. As far as I’m concerned, he can do that all he wants. It’s never too early to celebrate excellence.

We and Eater both anticipated a demotion to two stars. We both lose on our hypothetical one-dollar bets.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$96.50		$120.67
Gain/Loss	–1.00		–1.00
Total	$95.50		$119.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	44–21		47–18

Persimmon

 

Note: Persimmon closed as of August 2009. The space became The Brindle Room.

*

The new Korean restaurant Persimmon opened quietly in the East Village a couple of months ago. So far, it has rave reviews in New York and the Village Voice to its name.

Critics have noted the similarity to Momofuku Ko: low seating capacity (24), backless stools, and a prix-fixe Korean-inspired menu that goes heavy on the pork and kimchi. The staffing level is similar to Ko: four chefs, a dishwasher, and two servers. The head man, Youngsun Lee, even has some Momofuku time on his resume.

The open kitchen

The differences are significant, too. Dinner is $37 for five courses—a stunningly good value. There is a printed menu, which changes bi-weekly, offering four or five choices for the appetizer, mid-course, and main course. The cuisine is more authentically Korean, in contrast to David Chang’s Momofuku empire, which borrows from many cultures and cooking styles.

Most importantly, you can get into Persimmon without playing Momofuku Ko’s website lottery. Reservations are accepted by phone and seem to be readily available. Persimmon caters to a late-arriving East Village crowd: less than half full at 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday evening, but full by 9:30.

Persimmon isn’t as good as Ko, but at roughly one-third the price it is well worth your time and attention. There will be a new menu by the time you read this, but it will give an idea of what Chef Lee is up to.

The restaurant seats twenty at a long communal table, and four at a bar that faces the open kitchen. We were lucky enough to be seated at the bar, so we were able to watch the food being prepared and have a dialog with the chef.

 
Left: Grilled Korean Blood Sausage; Right: Fried Stuffed Squash Blossoms

I started with the Grilled Korean Blood Sausage, served with pig’s liver, pig’s stomach, scallions and Korean herbs. The menu admits that the sausage comes from Min Sok Restaurant in Flushing. It’s an understatement to say that this dish isn’t for everybody, but I loved the salty, hot, intense flavor.

My girlfriend was impressed with the Fried Stuffed Squash Blossoms, filled with scallop, tofu, and Korean miso. Squash blossom season is ending, so this dish is almost certainly no longer on the menu.

Sliced Braised Pork Belly

For the second course, we both chose the Sliced Braised Pork Belly, or Bo Ssäm. Despite the similar name, don’t expect the Momofuku Ssäm Bar version. The pork comes pre-sliced, with kimchi, salted Napa cabbage and salted baby shrimp on the side.

I thought the pork was a bit too bland. As you can see in the photo, it’s unadorned white squares of pork. My girlfriend didn’t share that complaint, perhaps because her portion had more fat. We both loved the intense moo woo kimchi, which I used as a meat garnish.

 
Right: Monkfish Stew; Left: Kimchi Stew

All of the main courses are soups or stews. My girlfriend chose the Kimchi Stew, with onion, tofu, scallions, mushrooms and pork. I had the Monkfish stew with mussels, soybean sprouts, red peppers, chives, garlic and honey.

Both stews came out in their own crockpots, so hot that the broth was still bubbling. Had they spilled on us at that point, we would have been in the E.R. with first-degree burns. It was quite a while before we could dare taste them. Both were spicy and intensely flavorful. Mine was filled with huge chunks of monkfish, vegetables, and a good half-dozen clams. Eating it without a knife (not supplied, and not available) was a challenge, though well worth it. I don’t normally like to work for my food, but this was a rewarding exception.

  
Left: Browned Rice Porridge; Center: Korean cookies; Right: Fermented fish intestines

No choice is offered for the last two courses, and both were letdowns. The chef assured us that Browned Rice Porridge is a Korean standard, but to us it just seemed like dull rice with warm tea poured over it. There was a far better rice side dish served with the main course. A second rice dish didn’t really add much. Dessert came in the form of traditional Korean cookies (sesame, black sesame and wild sesame), which were dry and a bit unexciting.

There were various side dishes served with the meal. I don’t remember them all, but they were mostly terrific, especially a bowl of kimchi-infused vegetables that we regretted we were too full to finish. Then again, maybe it was too much of a good thing. I also liked a serving of dried salted anchovies, but I don’t recommend the fermented fish intestines.

Persimmon is BYOB, and apparently there’s no intention to change that, but they have nice stemless glasses and ice buckets for white wine. Taken with the almost unbelievably low $37 prix fixe, Persimmon must be one of the best deals in town.

The service staff were friendly and kept on top of things, but the restaurant didn’t really get crowded until the end of our meal. The décor is spare but pleasant, assuming you don’t mind the backless stools. The orange placemats and decorative metal chopsticks were a nice touch, but silverware was not replaced between courses.

The New York review said that the multi-course meal “requires the dedication of the greater part of an evening.” We didn’t find that to be the case; our meal took about 90 minutes, of which about 20 minutes was the time it took for our main courses to cool down to a safe temperature.

Some of the food here is adventurous (blood sausage, fish intestines), but there are “safe” choices for every course, such as chicken dumplings, grilled scallops and miso stew with seafood. There is at least one vegetarian option for each course.

Persimmon is a first-class experience of its kind, and a welcome addition to a Momofuku-dominated neighborhood.

Persimmon (277 E. 10th Street, west of Avenue A, East Village)

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

Rolling the Dice: Oceana

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.

The Line: Tomorrow, Frank Bruni reviews the three-star seafood palace, Oceana. The Eater oddsmakers have set the action as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 8-1
One Star: 6-1
Two Stars: 3-1 √√
Three Stars: 4-1
Four Stars: 90-1

The Skinny: Oceana has been around a long time. It replaced an old French standby called Le Cygne in 1992, earning two stars from Bryan Miller. Rick Moonen’s arrival in the kitchen prompted a two-star re-review from Ruth Reichl in 1994, which she bumped up to three stars in 1997. After Moonen left to open his own place, Cornelius Gallagher took over, and Oceana’s three-star status was reaffirmed by William Grimes in 2003.

Gallagher is long gone, but if you check out the Times website, it still says, “Oceana has found a new chef, and a new surge of energy. It feels, in fact, as fresh as one of its fish.” At least, it will say that for a few more hours. That surge of energy dates back to the Grimes review. So Oceana was probably overdue for an update, but we have to wonder about the timing, given the move to a new address planned for next year. The Times waited this long, so couldn’t they have waited twelve months longer?

No matter. The question is, what will Bruni say? Our own experience with Oceana isn’t particularly relevant. Gallagher was still there, and it was two years ago on Valentine’s Day, hardly the best day to test a restaurant’s mettle.

We have to agree with Eater that two stars is the most likely outcome here. Oceana has become a three-star backwater—a restaurant no one talks about. Bruni tends to give three stars to places that generate a lot of excitement. If Oceana is doing that, it hasn’t been written up in any of the publications I follow. I have no idea what Oceana deserves, but I have a pretty strong inkling of what Bruni will say it deserves: two stars.

The Bet: We agree with Eater that Frank Bruni will msot likely award two stars to Oceana

Gramercy Tavern

 

Note: Click here for a more recent review of Gramercy Tavern.

It’s hard to be both good and popular. Large restaurants with mass appeal can’t risk challenging their customers with unusual recipes, ingredients that are hard to pronounce, or menus that stray far from the old standards.

These realities are evident at Gramercy Tavern, which has practically defined New American haute barnyard cuisine since its debut in 1994. It was the first restaurant as co-owner for chef Tom Colicchio, who had worked his way through several three and four-star kitchens; and the second restaurant for Danny Meyer (after another huge hit, Union Square Cafe).

The list of chefs who have cooked in Gramercy Tavern’s kitchen reads like a who’s who of New York dining: Marco Canora and Paul Grieco (both now at Hearth, Insieme and Terroir); Jonathan Benno (now chef de cuisine at Per Se); Damon Wise (now executive chef at Craft); pastry chef Claudia Fleming (now co-owner at North Fork Table & Inn); John A. Schaefer (now chef–partner at Irving Mill).

Before they opened, Meyer and Colicchio rather foolishly said that they were out to “reinvent the four-star restaurant.” Then, as now, if you say you’re gunning for N stars, it’s a sure bet you’ll get at most N–1 . That’s exactly what happened, as Ruth Reichl awarded an enthusiastic three stars in the Times. But as Colicchio drifted away, the restaurant ran on auto-pilot.

Two years ago, Meyer and Colicchio had an amicable divorce. Colicchio wanted to focus on his Craft empire, and Meyer wanted a full-time chef. To replace Colicchio, Meyer hired Michael Anthony, formerly Dan Barber’s partner at  the Blue Hill restaurants—places that borrowed a lot from Gramercy’s haute barnyard ethos, and arguably improved upon it.

The current Times critic, Frank Bruni, had “a few forgettable dinners” and “a clumsy, laughable one” during the first few years of his tenure. Unusually for him, he gave Anthony time to right the ship before weighing in with a respectful three-star re-review last June. Bruni was about right, when he noted:

There are restaurants with more shimmer, and there are certainly restaurants with more spark. There are restaurants that take bigger chances and stake bolder claims to your attention.

But is there a restaurant in this city more beloved than Gramercy Tavern?

It was a tough to get a table here in 1994, and it is tough today. In the Zagat survey, Gramercy Tavern is the second-most popular restaurant in New York (behind only Union Square Cafe). Its Zagat food and service ratings are 27 out of 30; no restaurant is higher than 28 in either category

When reservations opened for Valentine’s Day, they sold out in something like fifteen minutes. Even on a “normal” day, Gramercy Tavern is usually booked solid at prime times. To be sure of getting a table, you need to call four weeks in advance at 10:00 a.m., wait on hold, and cross your fingers. By the time you get through you may find that 5:30 and 10:00 are the only times remaining. We were finally able to book on OpenTable during the slower summer season.

Gramercy is really two restaurants in one, with a casual no-reservations “tavern room,” which serves an à la carte menu; and the more upscale (but not really formal) dining room, where your only choices for dinner are an $82 three-course  prix fixe, which we had, or one of two tasting menus ($88; $110).

Like all of Danny Meyer’s restaurants, Gramercy Tavern practically defines excellent service. I was seated immediately, even though my girlfriend had not yet arrived; and they gave us as long as we wished to ponder the menus. There was no sense of being rushed through the meal, even though you can bet your life that our table was going to be turned. Our three-course dinner played out over a relatively leisurely two hours and forty minutes.

The wine list is of middling length, but there is something on it for just about everybody. I was pleased to find a 1996 Fronsac for $72, an unusually low price for a decently aged French wine. It was a bit tight at first, but opened up nicely over the course of the evening.

The amuse-bouche (photo right) was a small wedge of house-made sausage. There were three kinds of bread to choose from, but none of them really floated my boat. The olive bread was too hard, and the butter wasn’t soft enough.

 

Foie Gras Custard with cherry marmelade and hazelnuts (above left) was probably the most exciting dish we tasted. Besides being very good in its own right, it was a more creative way of presenting foie than the usual terrine or torchon.

But Lamb Pappardelle (above right) was cliché, other than the unusual beet greens on which it lay, and it wasn’t quite warm enough. It wasn’t a very attractive plating, either.

 

Neither entrée offered a trace of originality. Glazed Duck Breast and Duck Leg Confit (above left) were at least impeccably prepared. The duck skin was crisp, the inside succulent and tender. We were less enchanted with Rack of Pork and Braised Belly (above right). The rack was slightly on the tough side, while the belly didn’t have quite the crisp–gooey texture that it should.

 
 

If, like the rest of the meal, the sweets were devoid of fanfare, they were all at least well executed. The palate cleanser (top left) was a strawberry–rhubarb crisp. I had the selection of cheeses (top right), while my girlfriend had the Grand Marnier Mascarpone Cheesecake (bottom left), which she felt the average chef could make at home. I found nothing wrong with it, though. The meal concluded with petits-fours (bottom right).

I agree with Frank Bruni that the empire’s best food in Danny Meyer’s burgeoning restaurant empire is now being served at Eleven Madison Park and The Modern. (Bruni favors the latter’s bar room over its formal dining room, but at least he has the right address.) Gramercy Park has become the Zagat set’s go-to occasion place. There’s no doubt that Michael Anthony is a serious chef, and unlike Tom Colicchio he’s actually here most of the time. But the menu falls back on predictability, which doesn’t leave much room to excuse its occasional flubs.

You won’t have a bad meal at Gramercy Tavern—far from it—but there’s more excitement to be had elsewhere.

Gramercy Tavern (42 E. 20th Street between Park Avenue South & Broadway, Flatiron District)

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

15 East

 

15 East is the Japanese restaurant that blossomed out of the old Tocqueville space, when co-owners Marco Moreira and Jo-Ann Makovitzky moved that Union Square standout two years ago to larger digs down the block. The odd-shaped room always seemed too small for Tocqueville—the owners obviously thought so too—but in its new guise it seems just about right.

The front room, which formerly housed Tocqueville’s bar, now has a sushi bar. The layout isn’t ideal, since guests waiting to be seated hang out in the same room, but the bar seating appeared to be comfortable. As there were four of us, we were seated in the main dining room, which has been attractively re-decorated. We had the restaurant to ourselves when we arrived at 6:00 p.m. on a Tuesday evening, but the space was mostly full a couple of hours later.

The menu offers a wide range of appetizers ($6–22) and a smaller selection of entrées ($24–45). Sushi ranges from $4–12 per piece, rolls $5–18. Omakases and tasting menus range from $55–120.

The composed appetizers and main courses may even be more compelling here than the sushi. The amuse-bouche was a terrific spring pea tofu (right). We followed it up with the slow-poached octopus ($12; below left) that was the highlight in Frank Bruni’s two-star review.

Servers told Bruni that the octopus was “massaged 500 times.” We didn’t know that, but perhaps it explains the terrific fatty taste that reminded me of pork belly.

 

Tuna tartare ($22; above right) is the most expensive appetizer, but the kitchen throws a party in its honor, spraying the plate with a spice confetti.

 

The entry-level omakase offers ten pieces of sushi or sashimi for $55 (above left). For a party of four businessmen, the chef sends out safe choices. The rice was warm and each piece was individually seasoned, but you’ll probably have a more interesting meal if you order pieces individually, or order one of the more expensive tasting menus. One of our party did not want raw fish, so he ordered the Wild Salmon Five Ways ($26, above right), which he seemed pleased with.

The service here is more accomplished and elegant than at most mid-level Japanese restaurants. There was a hint of upselling, but the captain’s ordering advice was sound, and he picked a fine sake to go along with our meal.

15 East (15 East 15th Street between Fifth Avenue and Union Square)

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