The Payoff: Bar Stuzzichini

Today, as expected, Frank Bruni awarded one star to Bar Stuzzichini, finding the Italian small-plates joint flawed but worthy:

The restaurant’s agents of tantalization include creamy sheep’s milk ricotta seasoned with saffron and drizzled with honey; ethereal buffalo’s milk ricotta stuffing involtini of thinly sliced eggplant; fried meatballs, each consumed in one crunchy, happy bite; and a tangle of astonishingly tender octopus, poached and then grilled, which is a smart way to treat an octopus.

On a given night there are some 25 stuzzichini in all, each priced between $5 and $10. Only a fool would order them individually because $22 buys any combination of five, and that’s a deal that gives Bar Stuzzichini something to crow about, a hook in a city and era of determined grazers.

Eater and I both took the one-star bet at 2–1 odds. We both win $2 on our hypothetical one-dollar bets.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$40.50		$44.67
Gain/Loss	+2.00		+2.00
Total	$42.50		$46.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	17–5		16–6

Tailor

The exterior, clearly unfinished. Across the street, the no-photo rule clearly doesn’t apply!!

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

Sam Mason is the latest pastry chef to open his own restaurant, following in the footsteps of Will Goldfarb at Room 4 Dessert (now closed) and Pichet Ong  of p*ong. Mason’s solo act is called Tailor. The website says that it’s “named as an ode to the skills of a seasoned craftsman.” Tailor shares with R4D and p*ong a creative approach to desserts. This is no cherry pie and vanilla ice cream place. Mason’s former gig was as at the avant-garde WD–50, of which Tailor’s cuisine is strongly reminiscent.

For a while, I wondered if Tailor would open in my lifetime. Grub Street had a recurring feature called The Launch, chronicling Mason’s pre-opening adventures. As of last December, Tailor’s debut was expected in “late February or the beginning of March.” After a while, the delays became almost comical, and Mason wisely stopped posting. Well, Tailor is finally here, and eGullet is ecstatic.

I was happy to find that Tailor is only about 5 minutes’ walk from the subway station I use to get home, so I thought I’d drop in after work. The bi-level space is modern chic, but nicely done. There is an ample bar area downstairs with a dining room on the ground level. The dining room is arguably more comfortable than WD–50, and it is certainly more so than p*ong or the late lamented Room 4 Dessert.

Service was as polished as at just about any three-star restaurant. Although there are no tablecloths, there are cloth  napkins. Silverware was promptly replaced. Empty glasses and finished plates were promptly whisked away. My bar tab was transferred to my table without complaint. And when I asked the bartender about an unusual pear cider in one of the specialty drinks, he volunteered a free taste of it.

The food has three-star potential, but with some serious limitations. At the moment, only six savory courses and six desserts are on offer, making Tailor’s menu the skimpiest of any comparable establishment. None of the items individually is very expensive (sweets $11; savories $12–15), but as the servings are small, the costs can mount in a hurry.

Mason made a considered decision to feature cocktails, rather than wine. The cocktail menu features twelve very clever selections by mixologist Eben Freeman, but only five wines by the glass (none by the bottle). Freeman’s offerings ($12–15 each) are excellent in their own right, but they are small, and they overpowered the food.

Frank Bruni thrives on the unpredictable, but if he is unwilling to award three stars to WD–50, it seems unlikely he’ll do so here, as Tailor is in many ways far more limited. Two stars seems to me about the best Tailor could expect, unless the menu choices expand and a real wine list is added. It seems almost a crime to have such a polished service brigade, and so little to serve.

Although the dining room was empty, the staff insisted that I not take photographs. Why Thomas Keller can permit this with a full dining room at Per Se, while Mason won’t allow it in an empty one, is beyond me. Apparently he wants to keep the food a secret. I will therefore accommodate him by not describing what I had. I’ll say that there was an amuse-bouche. Of the two dishes I paid for, one was very close to the best thing I’ve had all year; the other one wasn’t.

I had planned to order more, but after the no-photography edict I decided to go home. What’s the deal with the no-photo rule? Gordon Ramsay was the last jerk to pull that stunt, and look where it got him?

Tailor (525 Broome Street between Sullivan & Thompson Streets, SoHo)

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

Rolling the Dice: Bar Stuzzichini

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 Bar Stuzzichini. The Eater oddsmakers (after a hiatus last week) have set the action as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 4-1
One Star: 2-1 √√
Two Stars: 6-1
Three Stars: 75-1
Four Stars: 25,000-1

The Skinny: Yawn. Another review, another Italian restaurant…Bruni’s favorite. Yet again, it’s one of those earnest neighborhood places that probably belongs in the $25-and-under column.

Adam Platt gave the place two stars this week, but he admitted he was biased:

Bar Stuzzichini is in my approximate neighborhood. It is modestly priced (off-duty restaurant critics tend to be cheap), and as the name indicates, you can dine by yourself (off-duty restaurant critics also like to be left alone) at one of two long, convivial bars.

I give Platt credit. At least he admits that he is reviewing based on criteria that no responsible critic should depend on. Bruni is less self-conscious about doing the same.

Though Platt’s tastes tend to track Bruni’s rather well, in this case I don’t think Bruni will be quite as generous. He’s going to want to let Franny’s bask in the glow of the big wet slathering two-star kiss he adminstered a couple of weeks ago. To do it again so soon would dim the luster of that review.

The Bet: We agree with Eater that Frank Bruni will award one star to Bar Stuzzichini, though probably on the higher end of one star—it is Italian, after all.

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

Bellavitae

Note: Bellavitae closed in July 2010.

My family and I wandered into Bellavitae on a whim at about 10:00 p.m. on a Saturday evening, after a performance at the Minetta Lane Theater next door. It was simply the nearest source of nourishment that looked at all promising. But Bellavitae offers far more than mere sustenance: it is truly a gem.

The menu, which changes frequently, lacks the traditional split between appetizers and entrées. Most of the items are small plates that are suitable for sharing. There are a few conventional main courses, but they are in the minority. Most items are under $20, and there are some real winners under $10.

The focus is on ingredients from Italian artisanal farmers. The owner, Rolando Beramendi, supplies imported ingredients to many of the city’s Italian restaurants. After doing that successfully for 15 years, he decided to branch out into a restaurant of his own. It opened in January 2005 to mostly rave reviews. Frank Bruni was impressed, but gave it only the Diner’s Journal treatment.

We ordered five small plates to share, and there wasn’t a dud among them:

• Crostini carpaccio ($14), thinly sliced raw beef with a home-made (slightly spicy) mayonaise
• Sformatino di Melanzane ($8), baked layers of baby eggplant with mozzarella and tomato sauce
• Crostini con Salmone e Robiola ($13), smoked salmon with robiola cheese and caperberries
• Fichi Colavolpe all Griglia ($9), grilled figs wrapped in pancetta
• Polpettine Fritte ($8), little fried meatballs

Any of these dishes could easily be a disaster in less skilled hands. The meatballs were breaded and deep-fried, but without a hint of grease. The grilled figs wrapped in pancetta had just the right balance between the two ingredients, with neither dominating the other. The home-made mayonaise lent just the right amount of spiciness to the crostini, without upstaging the beef. And on this showing, crostini could displace the bagel as the proper home for salmon and cream cheese.

The name, Bellavitae, is a made-up word that’s a cross between “beautiful life” and “beautiful vines.” Wine, indeed, is a focus. The list focuses on small Italian producers, with about 150 bottles available and a wide selection by the quartino. My mom and I were quite pleased with the two reds we sampled, very reasonably priced at $14, considering that a quartino yields about two glasses’ worth. House-made bread, naturally served with olive oil for dipping, completed the package.

The bill for five small plates and two quartinos of wine came to $80 before tax and tip. Service was prompt and courteous, though by this hour the restaurant was not crowded. A “beautiful life” indeed.

Bellavitae (24 Minetta Lane at Sixth Avenue, Greenwich Villege)

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

Bouley

Note: This is a review of Bouley at its former location on West Broadway. Click here for a review of the new location, to which the restaurant moved in November 2008.

My mom and I had dinner at Bouley last week. I had already been to the restaurant twice before, including a visit last summer, when two colleagues and I were most impressed with the tasting menu. This time, we ordered à la carte.

I loved my appetizer, described on the menu as “Organic Connecticut Farm Egg Steamed with Black Truflle, Serrano Ham, Parmesan Reggiano and 25-Year Old Balsamic Vinegar” ($22). This is typical of a Bouley dish, with a large number of ingredients and a cooking style not anchored to any one region. It all fits together, and never feels too busy or over-engineered.

The entrée was Baby Pig ($42)—not currently listed on the website, so I can’t quote every ingredient. If a little less clever than the appetizer, I was nevertheless pleased with the careful preparation, with the crispness of the skin contrasting the tender flesh underneath.

Dessert was excellent: “Tahitian Vanilla-Nishiki Rice Pudding with Tropical Fruit Compote and Yuzu Sorbet” ($13). On top of that, there were several bonus courses: the amuse bouche (a tomato gazpacho), pre- and post-dessert, and petits-fours. We were, of course, sent home with the signature sponge cake, which I enjoyed for breakfast the next morning.

The wine list is lengthy, expensive, and generally French. The Saint Domingue we ordered ($90) was excellent, and the staff kept our glasses filled without my ever having to touch the bottle—a degree of pampering worth mentioning only because it is so rare.

A few years ago, there was a sense that the front-of-house at Bouley was letting down the kitchen. Several lapses—unforgivable at a restaurant purporting to offer a four-star experience—were cited in Frank Bruni’s demotion review three years ago. I myself had noticed some minor infelicities in two previous visits, but on this occasion the staff had it just about perfect.

There is, I suppose, a certain sense that David Bouley is no longer innovating—that he is too busy opening new places to really focus on his flagship restaurant. But there is a certain sense of refinement and polish at Bouley that very few restaurants can match.

Update: A few weeks later, I was back at Bouley with a colleague. We had the tasting menu with wine pairings. All of the food was polished and refined, but there really wasn’t any “wow” in it. I once again felt that the service was rushed, as it had been the last time I had a tasting menu here. Given the track record over multiple visits, I’ve at last concluded that 3 stars is the correct rating, not the the 3½ stars I had awarded previously.

Bouley (120 West Broadway at Duane Street, TriBeCa)

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

BLT Market

BLT Market postcard, based on art work displayed in the restaurant

Note: Click here for more recent visits to BLT Market.

You would have every reason to be a little cynical about the opening of yet another “Bistro Laurent Tourondel” restaurant. In a matter of three years, Tourondel has launched almost a dozen of them, the majority being clones of the very first one, BLT Steak. To date, the best of the brood has been BLT Fish, which earned three stars from Frank Bruni, as well as a Michelin star, which it promptly lost.

Main Menu

Now comes BLT Market, which occupies the former Atelier space in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Central Park South. To Tourondel’s credit, this is his first restaurant in quite a while that isn’t a mindless clone of a previous endeavour. The idea of a restaurant focused on seasonal ingredients is hardly original, but Tourondel’s version of it could become one of the better ones.

I walked in on impulse at around 6:30 p.m. on a weeknight. The dining room was booked, but I got an outdoor table immediately with a nice view of Central Park. Typical of a BLT restaurant, the server presented me with several loose sheets of paper: a menu, a specials menu, and a wine list supplement. (I didn’t ask to see the full wine list, but they have one.)

I ordered a cocktail called the Apricot–Mint Caiproska ($14). Like other cocktails I’ve had at BLT restaurants, it was too small, and almost all ice. I felt like I had paid about $1 per sip. I wasn’t shown the full wine list, but the paper supplement showed ten selections by the glass and bottles from a variety of regions. It included eight choices from New York state, something you do not normally see. With bottles priced mostly above $60, there were few bargains to be had.

Specials Menu

The menu is focused and not unduly long. There are seven appetizers ($12–25), one soup ($12), two pastas ($14–24 as appetizers; $23–38 as entrées), six entrées ($26–43), six desserts ($10–11), and a cheese course ($14). A sidebar lists all of the vegetables and fish that are in season. The specials menu added an additional appetizer, two entrées, and one dessert. While the prices are obviously expensive, they are all-inclusive, unlike the other BLT restaurants, where the side dishes cost extra, and drive up the bill considerably.

I wasn’t that hungry, so I ordered two appetizers. Grilled Octopus ($18) came with a fresh cranberry  bean salad and bergamot dressing. The octopus was nicely charred, and thick enough to have the consistency of a steak, but it upstaged the accompanying salad, which was dull. Raw and Confit Big Eye Tuna ($18) came with a tonnato sauce, garnished with avocado and fresh heart of palm. This was a lovely dish, attractively plated. The raw tuna was especially good, but the confit version seemed not as flavorful.

The amuse-bouche was a riff on “pigs in a blanket”—a small slice of frankfurter wrapped in a pastry shell with a mustard and relish dressing. It was a cute idea, but a bit messy to eat, and the hot dog didn’t seem fresh. The bread service was spectacular: a long hot garlic bread, served in a paper bag. Say what you want about Tourondel, but the breads in his restaurants are great.

The space is a bit more elegant than the other BLT restaurants, but with many informal touches. Tables are bare wood, with cloth napkins but paper placemats. Servers wear striped aprons, but the captains wear suits. The artwork, which I understand Tourondel selected himself, consists of large pastel paintings showing fruits and vegetables, such as the tomato still life shown at the top of this post.

Service was friendly, but slow, with a rather long gap between my first and second appetizer. The amuse and bread courses left my placemat festooned with crumbs, but they didn’t replace it until after the meal was over. I wasn’t smitten with BLT Market, but the restaurant shows promise. With the menu still technically in previews, I assume there will be refinements, and some of the service glitches will be smoothed out.

BLT Market (1430 Sixth Avenue at Central Park South, West Midtown)

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

The Payoff: Franny's

Today, as expected, Frank Bruni awarded two stars to Franny’s, giving the kind of rave review we’ve come to expect when he runs into a quaint, family-owned Italian restaurant that doesn’t take reservations:

Other restaurants have honorable pies, admirable lettuces or noteworthy salumi. But take it from a cranky Franny’s doubter, now a besotted Franny’s believer: not many do all three with as much joy and distinction as Franny’s.

Eater took the one-star odds, while NYJ guessed correctly that Frank would give Franny’s a two-star smooch. We win $6 on our hypothetical $1 bet, while Eater loses a dollar.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$41.50		$38.67
Gain/Loss	–1.00		+6.00
Total	$40.50		$44.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	16–5		15–6

Rolling the Dice: Franny's

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 Franny’s, the acclaimed Park Slope pizza joint that was infamously Banned on Chowhound. The Eater oddsmakers have set the action as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 4-1
One Star: 2-1 √√
Two Stars: 6-1
Three Stars: 75-1
Four Stars: 25,000-1

The Skinny: Frank Bruni has been on a pizza kick lately. He even managed to get the Times to spring for a trip to L.A. so that he could review Pizzeria Mozza—a restaurant genre not normally on his beat.

We know that just about any type of restaurant can get two stars from Frank Bruni. So why not a pizzeria? Franny’s has all the trappings of a two-star special: it’s in Brooklyn, it’s Italian, and as Eater notes, Bruni does have “an undying love for small, earnest restaurants.”

My guess is that after dining at Mozza, Bruni wanted to find the best pizza in town, and if he could give it two stars, he would. New York’s Underground Gourmet says Franny’s has the best pizza in New York. And Eater says that Franny’s “has turned it up a notch in the kitchen of late,” an assertion I cannot verify, but which would certainly explain the timing of this review.

The Bet: Lately, we’ve been spanked anytime we disagreed with Eater. Nevertheless, we’re going to roll the dice on two stars for Franny’s.

Esca

 

It’s hard to know when you can trust Frank Bruni. He seems to give a one-star premium just because a restaurant is Italian. And he seems to give a one-star premium wherever Mario Batali is involved. In just three years on the job, he has awarded nine stars to Mario Batali’s restaurants, a remarkable total.

So when Frank Bruni promoted Esca to three stars (his predecessor had awarded two), I had to wonder: was it really that good? Or was Frank just up to his usual mischief? Luckily, there was a parade of almost exclusively favorable comments on the eGullet boards, which persuaded me that I really must try Esca.

Bruschetta to start

It wasn’t easy. Esca fills up in a hurry. Several times I tried to reserve, only to find that 10:00 p.m. was the only time slot available. And no, I wasn’t that desperate to eat there. Last night, finally, I had an 8:00 p.m. slot. But even in late August, Esca was packed.

I agree with Frank Bruni about one more thing. The key to Esca’s success is that its chef and co-owner, David Pasternack, hasn’t over-extended himself. According to Bruni, whenever he’s called the restaurant for an interview, Pasternack is nearly always there. These days, when a restaurant is as successful as Esca, the chef starts to become an industry. Pasternack has dallied a little, but Esca remains his home.

Esca—the name means bait—introduced crudo, the Italian version of raw fish appetizers, to New York. Bruni, at least, credits Pasternack with the innovation. It was sufficiently obscure that William Grimes, in his 2000 review, had to explain what it meant. Nowadays, it’s all over town.

The menu’s crudo selections are followed by standard appetizers, pastas, and fish entrées. A solitary veal dish is the lone concession to the meat-lover. There’s no obligatory strip steak or roast chicken for the patron who was dragged along, but really doesn’t like seafood. If you can’t or won’t eat sea creatures, there’s probably no point in visiting Esca.

According to the website, the menu changes every two weeks. The menu currently shown there is quite a bit different from the one we saw—and also noticeably less expensive. I don’t know if it’s a very old menu, or if the prices were jacked up after Bruni awarded the third star. Nowadays, I think a restaurant in Esca’s class ought to have a reasonably current menu on its website.

While we pondered our order, a sommelier came over to offer assistance. The wine list is of medium length, and nearly all Italian. There’s an ample number of good options below $60. I asked for a red wine under that figure that would go well with the entrées we were considering. He instantly offered a fine suggestion at $54.

After pouring the first taste, he took the bottle away and put it on a serving table out of sight. Only a few restaurants in New York do this, and I find it a bit annoying. I don’t need someone to pour my wine for me, and I don’t like having to look around to signal for another pour. My request to have the bottle put back under my control was granted without complaint.

 
Orange Marlin (left); Verdura Mista (right)

I started with one of the crudo selections, Orange Marlin ($16). It was perfectly seasoned—just delightful. By the way, the restaurant offers a two-flight crudo tasting for $30 per person, and I’ve made a mental note to try one of these days. My girlfriend started with a salad of Verdura Mista ($16), and the kitchen did a superb job with this deceptively simple dish.

 
Squid ink pasta with cuttlefish and garlic (left); Whole orata (right)

There are about a dozen pasta dishes, orderable as a main course or as a mid-course to split. We shared the Squid ink pasta with cuttlefish and garlic ($24). We were again impressed, as the contrasting flavors seemed to be so perfectly judged.

The menu offers several whole fish, in addition to a larger number of composed dishes. I ordered the Orata ($33), a kind of sea bream, served whole. The preparation was straightforward, but the flesh was tender, sweet, and just slightly lemony. It came off the bone without difficulty. My girlfriend was less impressed with Merluzzo ($34), a kind of cod. She found it a bit dull, and even had to ask for salt to make it more lively—and that is not something she often does.

Biscotti

At Esca, both the space and the service occupy that middle ground between casual and formal that Mario Batali has mastered at his flagship restaurant, Babbo. There are white tablecloths, and an alert service brigade stays on top of things, but you could show up in jeans, and not feel out-of-place.

On the whole, we left Esca quite impressed. Three courses apiece, plus a $54 bottle of wine still came to under $200 before tip, and in this town it’s difficult to get such a good a meal at that price.

Esca (402 W. 43rd Street at Ninth Avenue, Hell’s Kitchen)

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