Le Périgord

 

I always book French restaurants when my mother is in town. Last weekend, we looked in on Le Périgord, one of the city’s few remaining grandes dames of classic French cuisine. My last visit was over a Memorial Day weekend, when I found it a bit deserted and dowdy, though still worthy and essential.

This time, on a more typical Friday night, we found business a bit more brisk—though it was not full. And the décor doesn’t seem quite as dowdy as it did last time. Actually, it doesn’t seem that way at all, though they’re long overdue to fix a tiny hole in the ceiling, which as I recall was there last time too.

At a restaurant this old, strengths and weaknesses aren’t likely to change rapidly. The bread service remains unimpressive, and it comes with cold, hard butter—just like last time. The menu is a $65 prix fixe—just like last time. The menu doesn’t change much, nor does it need to, but there are seasonal specials.

 

My girlfriend ordered the cold hors d’oeuvres (above left), which for most people would be a meal in itself. I loved the vegetable tart (above right) in a tangy butter sauce. My mom had the oysters (below left).

 

My mom and my girlfriend both chose the roasted duck. The kitchen will serve a portion for one, but when it’s ordered for two, they present the whole bird and carve it tableside (above right & below left).

 

I had the elk (above right), an off-menu special, which was excellent. It had a wonderful gamey flavor, though the accompanying rib was a bit tough.

 

The desserts we chose were fairly simple, but no less effective for that: a blueberry cream tart or the same in raspberry, both with a large dollop of fresh cream.

Most critics in town don’t give credit for classics done well, as if it requires no particular talent to execute the same recipes for decades. Yet, over and over again we see new restaurants serving the old favorites, and falling flat on their faces. Just because it’s classic doesn’t make it easy. Le Périgord continues to get it right, and for that it gets three stars.

Now, if only they’d do something about that cold butter.

Le Périgord (405 E. 52nd Street, east of First Avenue, Turtle Bay)

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

Brasserie Cognac

 

Brasserie Cognac is one of several classic French restaurants that have opened in the last year. I am not quite sure where the idea comes from. I haven’t seen any great demand for the genre, and the city’s major critics routinely remind us that no one wants it. Still, it persists, and I’m one of those who hopes it always will.

I had high hopes for Brasserie Cognac based on a promising early visit six months ago. Last weekend, I went back with the whole family. The restaurant isn’t exactly drawing crowds. It was practically empty at 6:00 p.m. on a Saturday evening—not a great sign for a place that ought to be pulling in pre-theater diners.

Alas, I can’t say the pre-theater folk are missing much. Brasserie Cognac does a few things well, but it’s too inconsistent. Those of us who favor classic French cuisine can do better elsewhere.

 

A tomato tart with goat cheese (above left) was the best thing we had, with a crisp, thin crust like pizza. My girlfriend and my son both had the French onion soup (above right), which came out not quite warm enough.

 

For the main course, my son and my girlfriend both had the Blanquette de Veau, or veal stew (above left). Like the onion soup, it came out cold, and had to be sent back. Pot-au-feu, or beef with vegetables, was the daily special (above right). The beef was tender and rare inside, but there was a certain laziness about both this and the Blanquette de Veau. Both dishes seemed dull. The broths and vegetables had a cafeteria quality to them. My mom had the Moules Frittes (mussels with fries), and the kitchen at least got that right.

The bread service was mediocre, with butter so hard it was practically unspreadable.

Brasserie Cognac undermines itself in other ways. The space is gorgeous, clearly the result of a not inconsiderable investment. Why, then, do they play generic pop elevator music out of the loudspeakers? If they’re trying to create the feeling of an authentic French brasserie, why not take it seriously?

There’s a wide range of prices, but there are plenty of appetizers and salads under $15, entrées under $30, and wine bottles under $50—though, of course, you can spend more. If the food were more reliable, Brasserie Cognac could easily be a go-to place for the neigborhood.

My girlfriend had a good summary of the meal: “You know, these dishes may be classics, but it’s still hard to get them right.”

Brasserie Cognac (1740 Broadway at 55th Street, West Midtown)

Food: Uneven
Service: Would be fine, if only the food were warm enough
Ambiance: Nice looking, but no buzz; needs a new soundtrack
Overall: Satisfactory (no stars)

Sunday Suppa at Dovetail

Dovetail opened last year to rapturous reviews. When we visited in March, I couldn’t quite decide if it deserved all those laurels. I gave it 2½ stars, half-a-star lower than the major critics did. We were back this evening for Dovetail’s “Sunday Suppa,” a three-course meal for just $38. If the food were as good as the critics say, this would be one of the best deals in town.

Unfortunately, I had the same reaction as last time: excellent appetizers let down by disappointing entrées. Pastry chef Vera Tong’s wonderful desserts offered partial redemption. I also have the same reaction to the atmosphere. At times, Dovetail acts like it wants to be a three-star restaurant, but it doesn’t carry out the act thoroughly or consistently enough to deserve it.

I was also dismayed to find almost no red wines below $50—and those I did find were both young and obscure. I settled on a 2005 bottle of the seldom-seen Irouléguy appellation from the south of France, at $49, which they then proceeded to charge at $51 (they corrected the bill when I pointed this out). This is definitely a wine list that has not caught up to the recession.

Dovetail is still doing brisk business, but it’s not as busy as it was six months ago. I was able to reserve a 6:30 p.m. table just a few days in advance. Still, you can’t just walk in at prime time. When we left, at around 8:30 p.m., they had just turned a party away.

The meal started well. The amuse-bouche (above) was a sliver of smoked salmon wrapped around a horseradish filling. The bread service was the same terrific cornbread that Dovetail has been serving since the beginning.

   

All three appetizers were first-rate: an Asparagus Velouté with cream and bacon (above left), Mushroom Risotto (above center), and Sweetbreads (above right).

  

Among the entrées, Lamb Meatloaf (above left) was the least objectionable, but it was a bit dry. Loin of Pork (above center), served off the bone, was too tough. Prime Rib (above right) had to be sent back, as it was too rare. It came back rubbery; adding insult to injury, it carried a $12 supplement.

 

We had no complaint about the desseerts—a French Toast-like confection (above left) with enough butter and cream to be a meal in itself, Carrot Cake (above right) and sorbet (not pictured).

The level of accomplishment in the appetizers and desserts makes us wonder how the entrées could be as off-key as they were, but we’ve been underwhelmed by them twice, so we’re bound to conclude it’s a chronic problem. The kitchen probably turns out some great main courses (the talent is obviously there), but it hasn’t happened on either of our visits.

Dovetail (103 W. 77th Street at Columbus Avenue, Upper West Side)

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

Reboot at Bouley's Secession

Update: A commenter (below) says that the prix fixe was for two days only, and that the original menu has returned. We have not been by to see if this is so. Besides that, “Restaurant Week” specials typically do not supersede the entire menu of the restaurant.

* * *

In my review of David Bouley’s new restaurant Secession, I suggested that “about half this menu needs to be jettisoned.”

Bouley has done a lot more: he has thrown out practically all of it. As of last night, Secession is serving a $45 prix fixe. I walked by the restaurant this afternoon and had a look.

There are now just 7 appetizers, 6 entrées (all served with a pot of Tuscan fries for the table) and 4 desserts. That compares to last week’s menu, which had more than 25 appetizers and 25 entrées. I didn’t note every item on the new menu, but the available entrées include chicken, Wiener Scnitzel, and Spaghetti Carbonara. The long charcuterie menu has been reduced to just one pâté.

The menu is headed, “A Preview in Collaboration with Zagat.” You can’t make this stuff up.

I don’t suggest for a second that my review had anything to do with it, but there are enough terrible ones out there that Bouley clearly needed to do something—fast. With this more limited menu, he can now focus on the basics, as he should have done in the first place. Calling it “a preview” keeps the critics out,” or at least might persuade them to be gentle.

Bloomingdale Road

Note: Bloomingdale Road has closed, after four months in business and mostly mediocre reviews.

Update: The Times reports that the restaurant remains open with a limited menu, but Chef Ed Witt has left, and the owner is trying to renegotiate the lease.

Coda: After failing to negotiate a more favorable lease, Bloomingdale Road closed on Saturday, February 7, 2009.

*

Bloomingdale Road opened about a month ago on the Upper West Side in the former Aix Brasserie space. Chef Ed Witt was last seen at Varietal, where he was roundly panned by most critics, and was fired shortly after a devastating review from Frank Bruni in the Times.

At Bloomingdale Road, Witt abandons some of the more absurd flights of fancy that doomed Varietal. This is still a thinking-man’s menu, but with a comfort food soul that goes right for the gut. Among our two appetizers and two entrées there wasn’t a single disappointment, or anything remotely close to it. I am not ready to call this destination cuisine, but if you’re in the neighborhood this has got to be one of the better options.

So far, the neighborhood agrees. The large, tri-level space is doing a brisk business. The vibe is casual (but check out the funky chandeliers), and the menu is sensibly priced for a recession economy. There are snacks ($5–9), Soups & Salads ($7–17), Small Plates & Sandwiches ($10–16), Pastas ($17–19), Mains ($18–24) and Sides ($5–8). There’s an ample selection of 23 wines by the glass, and the there are plenty of decent bottles under $50, including the Rhone blend we had for $42. 

The menu says that items are designed to be shared, though it’s not clear which selections that applies to. My pork chop, for instance, didn’t seem to be any more obviously shareable than any other pork chop I’ve seen. Gael Greene’s review mentioned that several of the supposedly shareable items come in threes, which is not a wise strategy, as most tables have even numbers of customers. Shareable dishes should come in twos or fours; never threes.

For a large, fairly new casual restaurant, service was attentive and impressive. A manager was making the rounds, and it appeared he stopped at just about every table to ask how things were going.

Meals start with a delicious Parker House roll, with soft creamy butter. The roll is cooked in a tin can, which the server delivers to your table and turns upside down. I must admit the roll’s phallic shape didn’t occur to me at the time, but it was rather apparent when I looked at the photo the next morning.

 

We started with two items from the “Small Plates” section of the menu. The terrific House Made Sausage ($10; above left) is made with smoked pork and jalapeño, topped with cheddar, white beans & chips. We also loved the Duck Confit Parfait ($14; above right), served in a glass jar with brandied cherries poured in at tableside. This is a larger portion than it appears in the photo. It came with three slices of round toast for spreading; we asked for three more, and they came quickly. For the size of the portion, they should just send out six pieces of toast with every order.

 

There was nothing fancy in either of our entrées, but both were done just right, and this is no small accomplishment in a kitchen turning out as much food as this one. I could find no fault in the Chicken ($22; above left) or the Pork Chop ($24; above right), with cheese grits and caramelized apples.

One never knows what the future will hold, but if Ed Witt can keep the kitchen operating at this level, Bloomingdale Road should be an Upper West Side hit.

Bloomingdale Road (2398 Broadway at 88th Street, Upper West Side)

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

Secession

Note: Secession has closed. It will be replaced with a Japanese concept called Brushstroke, supposedly by the end of 2009 (but don’t hold your breath).

David Bouley has been a busy guy. He has something like seven restaurant projects going right now. We’re not talking about seven stable, business-as-usual restaurants, but seven in a state of flux. And we’re not talking about seven clones, but seven very different concepts. The obvious question is whether he can keep so many balls in the air, or if some of them—indeed, perhaps all—are going to land with an embarrassing thud.

So far, we have the answer for one of these: Secession, which just opened, replacing Danube. THUD. There is plenty of time to right the ship, but Secession needs a lot of work. With his next project, the new flagship Bouley, set to open next week, when will he have time to fix Secession, which right now is beyond mediocre?

It is not merely flawed execution—though there is plenty of that—but an absurd concept. The menu has practically as many options as a diner. It is more than any restaurant could expect to do well. And as one food board participant noted, they are almost sure to be always running out of things. If there’s to be any semblence of consistency, about half this menu needs to be jettisoned.

Perhaps they are heading in that direction. Last night, there were marginally fewer items offered than on the menu that I posted a couple of weeks ago. But it is still far too much, with something like 25 entrées and an equal number of appetizers in multiple categories. I mean, spaghetti carbonara and shrimp kebabs? They seem to be just phoned in. The menu, printed on a huge broadsheet, is also unwieldy to handle at the small tables.

The prices, at least, aren’t exorbitant. Almost all of the appetizers are below $15, and most of the entrées are $25 or less. Steaks range from $21 (skirt steak) to $32 (sirloin), but if they’re aged prime, as the menu says, that’s a pretty good deal. Nearly all of the wines are below $100, with many good choices below $50.

The brasserie menu and befuddled service are at war with the surroundings. Danube’s faux Klimt interior has been retained, which was a wise move, as this is still one of the most gorgeous rooms in town. It still feels like it should be a three-star restaurant, though it most certainly isn’t. Chairs and banquettes are comfortable, but our table wobbled. About halfway through, the server came by and stuck a piece of cardboard under one of the legs.

 

The charcuterie section of the menu offers nine homemade terrines, pâtés and boudins (sausages), all $11. We ordered two of those, and then waited. And waited. It made no sense, as these items are obviously pre-made. There was bread service, but it was stale. This was hard to figure, as the bread just next door, at Bouley, has always been excellent.

The boudin noir, or blood sausage (above left), comes with six different garnishes, but this isn’t clear on the menu, and our server was at a loss to explain it. Apparently they were out of one garnish, and had substituted another. Or something. For all that, it was pretty good. The Terrine du Chef (above right) had a flat, dull taste, and came out too cold, as if it had been in the fridge all day. The accompanying bread was again stale.

  

One of the more unusual menu items is Baby Goat; they were out of it, but didn’t bother to tell us this when the menus were handed out. I was offered Baby Lamb instead ($25; above left). It was presented in a cast-iron skillet, but I thought they’d serve it out onto a plate. Instead, they just left it for me to eat directly from the skillet, which was a bit wobbly. The kitchen did a respectable job with the lamb, but the potatoes underneath it were greasy and stuck to the pan.

I had asked the server to recommend a side dish. He suggested the mac ’n’ cheese, or technically “Grandmother’s Pasta and Cheesse Gratin” ($9; above center). Perhaps a better name is “supermarket pasta elbows.” They were too watery and not cheesy enough.

My girlfriend had the Skirt Steak ($21; above right). Apparently it was supposed to come with sauce, but the server forgot it; we did too, till we re-checked the menu afterwards. The steak itself was tender and nicely seasoned, but the accompanying schmear of what looked like mashed potatoes wasn’t any good at all. It also came with fries, which were soggy and limp. A runner asked what was wrong with them, and we told him. “I’ll tell the manager,” he said. Instead, our waiter came back and said, “Sorry about the fries.” At another table, the fries weren’t delivered till after everyone had finished their entrées.

Earlier in the evening, we’d had drinks at the bar, which they offered to transfer to our dinner tab. When the bill arrived, they weren’t on it. I’d like to think they were making up for the fries, but I doubt it. Surely, in that case, a manager would have come over and said something. I think they’re just discombobulated. We pointed out the apparent error. The server just said, “Forget about it.”

The dinner crowd was an eclectic mix. For the first part of the evening, the average age of the room was definitely over 50, but it got younger as time went on. The staff can’t decide what atmosphere they want in the dining room. Lighting levels were adjusted three times during the course of our meal. The full menu is also available at the bar. It has several comfortable tables, and a number of people seemed to be dining there by choice. It was standing-room-only by the time we left.

The dining room was never full, though it got close by the time we left, a bit after 8:00 p.m. Curiously, we were seated right next to a party of six, even though the restaurant was nearly empty when we arrived. About half-way through our meal, another party of two was seated right next to us, though there were a good dozen other two-tops with no one else around. Spreading people out when the dining room is empty is a pretty basic service concept, not yet mastered here.

There’s no reason Secession couldn’t be a great restaurant, but it isn’t right now. Too many basic things misfire. The staff is too confused. David Bouley needs to cut down the menu to about half of its currrent length, and the front-of-house needs a serious kick in the shins.

If there’s any silver lining, it’s that the prices are low, and that encourages a re-visit. If I hear that things have improved, I’ll drop by again one evening and dine at the bar.

Secession (30 Hudson Street at Duane Street, TriBeCa)

Food: Uneven
Service: Uneven
Ambiance: ***
Overall: Uneven (no stars)

Bar Boulud

I dropped into Bar Boulud last night for a pre-opera snack. The tables were all full at around 7:00 p.m., but there were a few seats available at the communal table (far left in the above photo).

The menu offered at the communal table seems to be abbreviated, but I quickly settled on one of the warm charcuterie specialties, the Saucisse Fumée Façon “Morteau” ($16), or smoked cumin-spiced sausage on a lentil stew. For what it was, this dish was about perfect. I could eat like this every day.

As I observed last time, service can be helter-skelter, although they fared better at two recent lunch visits. Servers do a first-class job when you have their attention, but getting it isn’t so easy, as there aren’t enough of them to go around, especially in the frantic pre-theater hour.

But the kitchen still seems to have its act together, which is more than you can say for many a Lincoln Center restaurant. Despite its faults, we are lucky to have Bar Boulud in our midst.

Bar Boulud (1900 Broadway near 63rd Street, Upper West Side)

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

Roberto

 

For years, I’ve been reading about the “other” Little Italy on Arthur Avenue, in the Bronx. It’s supposed to be less of a tourist trap. The food is supposed to be better. Last weekend, with my son in town, we visited the legendary Roberto.

The restaurant has been in a lovely townhouse on Crescent Street, just steps away from the main drag on Arthur Avenue, since 1989, when it was Tony & Roberto’s. In 1993, Times critic Molly O’Neil awarded one star. A few years later, brother Tony went back to Salerno, leaving Roberto Paciullo in charge by himself—still stopping by every table to ask how your meal was.

From most parts of the city, it is not especially easy to get here by mass transit. Fortunately, we live close by the George Washington Bridge Bus Terminal in Washington Heights, where you can catch the Bx36 bus to the corner of Bathgate Avenue and E. 180th Street. That still leaves you about eight blocks away, and you’d best have a map with you unless you already know the area. The closest subway stop, 182nd–183rd Streets on the D line, leaves you with a good 15–20 minutes’ walk.

Roberto does not take reservations except for large parties, and if you arrive at prime times you have a long wait ahead. We got there around 5:30 p.m. on a Saturday, and it was already nearly full. The hostess said she could seat us downstairs, which didn’t sound so good, but was actually a blessing. We were in a small, quiet room with about 6 tables, dominated by a long wine wall with hundreds of rare bottles, mostly magnums and double-magnums. Two hours later, when we left, the main dining room upstairs was noisier than a train station at rush hour.

The menu is long, and on top of it the server recited a dozen or more specials. Naturally, by the time he’d finished his lecture we’d forgotten at least half of them. We got the sense that large portions were coming, so we settled on one antipasto, two pastas and two entrées to share amongst three people. That turned out to be about right.

We started with a good spicy Cotechino ($14), or Italian pork sausage, with spinach and cannellini beans. Both of our pastas were specials. There were tender Agnolotti ($21) filled with goat cheese and braised short rib; and Fettuccini with a short rib ragoût ($25). I don’t think we actually meant to order short rib twice, but that’s what happens when recited specials go whizzing by too fast. My son made short work of Pollo Affumi ($21), or chicken with prosciutto and mozzarella, while we shared a tender Lamb Shank Ossobucco ($26).

None of the savory courses came out quite warm enough. Dishes weren’t heated before the food was plated, and they cooled a bit on the way from kitchen to table. The captain served us family-style, but anything left cooled quickly, since the original plates weren’t warm. Silverware was not replaced after our first course, but it was after our second.

Dessert was, I believe, a terrific almond cake with cinammon ice cream, which the three of us shared. (It’s the only food photo I took that is worth publishing.)

The wine list doesn’t seem to have any bargains, but we got a perfectly respectable 2003 Villa Puccini Chianti Riserva for $44.

I have no idea if we got the best, the worst, or the average performance for this restaurant. With such a sprawling menu and 240 covers a night, it’s inevitable there will be highs and lows. Everything was solid here, but the food was somewhat let down by the service. Still, it was a fun evening, and we’ll probably try it again sometime.

Roberto (603 Crescent Avenue at Hughes Avenue, Bronx)

Food: *
Service: Sub-*
Ambiance: *
Overall: *

The Spotted Pig

Note: Click here for a review of FergusStock at The Spotted Pig. Click here for a review of the famous burger.

The Spotted Pig has been packing in West Village diners more-or-less continuously since it opened 4½ years ago. The tiny gastropub doesn’t take reservations, and waits of an hour or more are legion. I generally avoid such places, so the Spotted Pig and I were making do without each other till last Friday. That day, I realized that if I left work at 5:00 p.m. and headed straight for the Pig, I’d be there when they opened, and would probably get a seat. It worked…and the food was good enough that I just mighty try it again. And again.

The English chef, April Bloomfield, has stints at London’s River Cafe and Berkeley’s Chez Panisse on her C.V. It was enough to impress Mario Batali, Joe Bastianich and Ken Freeman (who are all investors). It was enough to impress Eric Asimov of the Times, who delivered a rave in $25 & Under. And it was enough to impress the Michelin inspectors, who gave the Pig a star, which it has held four years in a row.

Frank Bruni awarded one star in 2006, though in his four-star system that isn’t quite as much of a compliment. Regardless of the merits, read the Asimov and Bruni pieces, and it’s as clear as can be which one should be reviewing restaurants, and which one is an imitator. Mind you, I think one star (in Timesspeak) is about right for this place—but not when you’ve awarded two to so many other mediocre ones, as Bruni has done.

But let’s get back to the Spotted Pig, where eclectic European comfort food comes in four sizes: bar snacks ($3–7.50), appetizers ($14–18), entrées ($17–32) and side dishes ($7–10). If you’re a vegetarian, a plate of five sides is $24. Except for the acclaimed roquefort cheeseburger ($17; the most popular dish), the entrées are all $25 and higher, and there are three that sell for $32. At these prices, one might resent the loud and crowded pub space, seating on backless stools, and a no-reservations policy. But for almost five years now, the verdict of the dining public is that it’s worth it.

Sheep’s Milk Ricotta Gnudi with Brown Butter & Sage ($15) have been on the menu from the beginning, and one can see why. They’re soft, delicate, rich, and just heavenly: surely one of the top ten appetizers in town. I got a little more adventurous for the entrée: Lamb Crépinette with lamb kidneys and black-eyed peas ($29). Braised lamb shoulder was stuffed in a sausage casing, covered in diced kidneys and a heavy, dark sauce. The kidney taste was a bit overpowering, but the tender shoulder had a bright, strong flavor.

Service was impressive for a place that was so busy. The server had a lot of tables to cover, but she never lost track of me. The entrée took about 45 minutes to come out, but she comped a glass of wine and a serving of olives & almonds as partial recompense. I wasn’t in any hurry, and didn’t mind.

The menu is reprinted daily and changes frequently: there were five specials written on the board, including that crépinette. Perhaps I was one of the first to try it, which could explain the long delay. There probably aren’t many customers demanding lamb kidney. I might not order it again, but it wasn’t bad, and I give Bloomfield credit for venturing beyond the obvious.

Bloomfield has every right to be distracted: her seafood restaurant, The John Dory, originally scheduled for the spring, remains under construction, with a promised October opening very much in doubt. But Bloomfield was in the Spotted Pig on Friday night, running the kitchen as she’s done for the last five years. It is very much a contradiction, with the food a level or two above the pub surroundings in which it is served.

The Spotted Pig (314 W. 11th Street at Greenwich Street, West Village)

Food: ★★½
Service: ★★
Ambiance: ★
Overall: ★★½

Someone's in the Kitchen at Mai House

It looks like the soap opera at Mai House is over. Eater has the news today that David Lee, a former sous chef at Bar Room at the Modern, will be behind the stoves.

We were big fans of Mai House under founding chef Michael Bao Huynh. Top Chef’s Spike Mendelsohn replaced him, and Top Chef’s Lisa Hernandes replaced Spike. Neither one figured to be a permanent figure, and owner Drew Nieporent wasn’t going to let the place drift for long. Lee comes in with serious cred. He plans “serious menu changes,” with about half the dishes to be replaced by sometime in November.

We’ll give Lee a few weeks to get out the kinks before dropping in for a look-see.