By Shani R. Friedman

A few years ago, I was at this exact same spot when it was Jeffrey Chodorow’s Wild Salmon, the last of his multiple attempts to make the location successful. I had a great meal in a beautiful space, but it folded.

Now it’s chef Richard Sandoval’s turn. Perhaps the impresario behind 14 other restaurants around the world will have the Midas touch with his Asian and Latin fusion cuisine. Partner Placido Domingo, a friend of Sandoval’s, opened Zengo weeks after surgery, so things may already be looking up.

Zengo is invading midtown with scrumptious Asian Fusion cuisine and three levels of seating, a basement tequila bar and sake lounge.

When we arrived on a recent August night, my friend noted how enormous the restaurant is. There are 170 seats and three levels (the main floor, with the dark mood lighting, suspended wood beams, and wrought-iron screens, plus a basement tequila bar and sake lounge upstairs). The staff was accommodating as we tried out a table and two different booths before we found one that was just right. The two of us perused our menus at length since we had decided to forego large plates for some of the tantalizing smaller plates that showcase the different culinary cultures.

I finally decided on the ceviche tasting ($16) and the Peking duck-daikon tacos ($12). The two ceviches were the rainbow (with tuna, salmon and fluke) and the corvina, a fish I was unfamiliar with. Much to my surprise, the medley was not my favourite. The corvina, on the other hand, a simple preparation of onions, cucumbers and apples and shiso (Japanese basil), had the perfect balance of flavors between the fish, the citrus and the rest of the ingredients. My other dish was a fun, play-with-your-food experience because you have to put the mini tacos together yourself. The tartness and crispness of the curried apples was a good contrast to the duck confit.

My friend had a United Nations-style dinner and sampled the steamed buns al pastor ($12), the Thai chicken empanadas ($10), the vegetarian rolls ($10) and the yucca fries ($5). He didn’t love the buns, which lacked the expected release of steam and were more like stuffed pancakes, but the combination of Oaxaca cheese, mango-curry salsa and chile poblano in the empanadas really grabbed him. We both dug into the fries, which were thick, a little sweet—but less so than a plantain—and a bit salty.

Since there’s always room for dessert, I ordered the Mexican chocolate tart ($8) and he picked the lemon yuzu cake ($8), both of which looked like petite works of art. The cake was accompanied by ginger ice cream and Chinese five spice custard sauce. My tablemate said he could definitely taste the myriad spices in the sauce. My tart was adorned with cocoa nibs, cinnamon whip and chili ancho anglaise. It may be the best thing I’ve eaten all summer! I spooned it in tiny bites so that I could savour it for as long as possible.

I could have lingered in the comfortable booth for hours and let the very solicitous waitress keep refilling my water glass, but it was past my friend’s bedtime. Although it was a sleepy Sunday evening with just a few diners, people continued to come in as the hours passed. That’s a good sign for the restaurant having legs, which means I will get to go back and hopefully find the tequila snow cones still on the menu. To the staff I say, buenas suerte!

Tweet This Post

By Tom Steele

I can’t remember ever visiting a two-week-old restaurant that had its act so completely together. Credit must be bestowed on Tiella’s co-owner Mario Coppola, whose hands-on management style results in a tightly run ship. And Peppe Castellano’s Neapolitan cookery is as authentic as it is intensely delicious.

Tiella is as authentic as it as intensely delicious.

The restaurant is set in a fairly narrow bricky space. Golden Italianate lighting emanates from rows of lovely lamps suspended from a black pressed-tin ceiling. The dining room seats about 30, and from the look of the crowd, the neighborhood is perfectly delighted to have Tiella in its midst.

The succession of Castellano’s sunny flavors begins with especially soft and flavorful slices of fresh focaccia that arrive in a basket, with a cunning little pitcher of verdant first-pressed Novella olive oil and a little dipping ramekin.

Creamy rich stracchino, a cow’s milk cheese from Italy’s hilly Lombardy region, can be enjoyed either with speck (cold-smoked and dry-aged sliced pork) or black truffle shavings.

Castellano has the smallest wood-burning oven in the city, fitted to his diminutive kitchen. The oven can reach 900 degrees, which explains why so many of his meats and fish have every drop of their juices seared inside.

Roasted sea scallops are tender and moist, and given a wonderful pecorino di Fossa crusting.

A friend told me that her favorite dish at Tiella is risotto with lobster and pink grapefruit, a combination I certainly have never encountered. The dish is indeed triumphant, featuring perfectly cooked Arborio rice. The confluence of pungent fruit and shellfish flavors is ameliorated by a showering of fresh dill.

A generous fillet of orata, a fine-fleshed sea bream found in the Mediterranean, is roasted in a potato crust, then given a light lemon sauce and stabbed with a spear of fresh thyme.

Tiella’s veal scallops are the juiciest I’ve ever had, served under a melting of smoked mozzarella and partnered by an inverted ramekin of unusually tasty spinach.

Lemony cheesecake is quite creamy, thanks to its Roman sheep’s milk base, but also quite light and studded with welcome fresh strawberries. And an airy lemon spongecake is tipsy with limoncello.

Rarely—if ever—has a two-week-old been so ready for its close-up. I highly recommend that you make yourself among the first to discover Tiella’s many pleasures.

_
Tiella
1109 First Avenue,
Between East 60th and 61st Streets
212-588-0100
Entrées: $22-28

Tweet This Post

By Linnea Covington

The first thing we learned at Harlem’s newest haut restaurant 5 & Diamond is that you need a reservation, even if no one is in the small, 40-seat dining room. On a recent rainy Wednesday evening at 6:30, we were shocked to find that no seating was available on the floor, and wouldn’t be all evening, despite the open tables.

We managed to squeeze four people into the tiny bar in the back, which proved a decent choice given the friendly

Flukin’ Fantastic: The fish at 5 & Diamond. Photo by Linnea Covington

bartender and ability to look over the crowd of diners as they sipped their fancy cocktails and gorged on the restaurant’s American-Mediterranean delicacies. After the trek from Brooklyn to Harlem, our mouths were watering as each plate whisked away from the kitchen to their assigned tables. While we longed to sample the fare, a mix of chef David Santos’ creations and those of the original man behind the stove, Ryan Skeen, our thoughts were distracted by the gossip surrounding the ex-chef de cuisine. Skeen’s mysterious departure from the head chef position at 5 & Diamond right when it began to produce a lot of buzz, his past work at Irving Mill and his infamous email termination from Allen & Delancey had our curiosity whetted as we eagerly looked for him to whizz out of the kitchen like one of the plates. We never did see him, and instead ordered glasses of the mildly spicy Danjean Pinot Noir ($9) and some small plates to cure
our hunger.

The first thing to arrive was a basket of bacon-spiked rolls, which worked well with our primer dish, the farms hen egg ($10). Like the rolls, the soupy egg dish came laced with yet more bacon (both in the froth and in chunks), which didn’t actually yield much flavor, and brightly colored bits of fresh carrots and English peas. With hunks of toasted bread to sop up the dish, it compared easily to a simple country breakfast, not too rich or abrasive in taste, and easy going down. Next, we sampled the seared scallops ($13). Cooked to golden perfection, the sweetness of these three mollusks was cut back by the sharp, pickled onions and a mild apricot gazpacho that pooled along the bottom. Good, yes; amazing, not so much.

The fluke ($16) was another story. Prepared sashimi style, the raw fish came in a row of about 15 strips of pale white flesh resting on spurts of spicy chili oil. Whichever chef decided to sprinkle the top of the fish with tiny chunks of pickled rhubarb and a speckling of crisp sea beans had pure genius inspiration as each bite produced a burst of crunchy, soft and chewy textures mixed with a saline heat.

The cocktail list also provided good flavor combos not usually seen. The fresh raspberry margarita ($12) was enhanced by crushed tarragon, and a refreshing drink called Replenish ($12) purred with soothing notes of chamomile in the gin and had a satisfying ginger-lemon kick.

By the time we got to the main course, it had become fairly obvious that pickled things were the favored ingredient, so when we saw “pickled blueberries” with the Iowa Farms pork loin entrée ($25), we had to sample it. The pork, cooked medium, had a piggy pink center, which let the sweetness (and is what makes it one of my favorite meats) shine through. Covering the tender medallions were hearty chunks of crisp ramps and salty puréed white asparagus. The blueberries added a burst of color and a tartness to the dish, though they didn’t taste particularly pickled.

Our final entrée was probably the most normal of the options: the tasting of lamb ($23). It came with lamb tenderloin (rare and rich), leg (fine but not special) and belly, which doesn’t deviate much from pork belly (meaning it’s a delicious, melty square of meaty fat). The meat was cooked perfectly but otherwise it was just a lamb dish strewn with cooked Swiss chard and a minty green sauce.

Skeen, obviously a very good chef, made 5 & Diamond a destination restaurant based on his own heady reputation; the gaggle of bloggers in the corner snapping pictures of the dishes proved this theory. But, for normal folks looking for a bite to eat in their hood, the food is too expensive for casual dining and with Skeen’s departure as chef de cuisine, the restaurant is not exceptional enough for special occasions. It doesn’t fit in the neighborhood, and, once the hype dies down and Skeen isn’t seen, I wonder what will be left.

–
5 & Diamond
2072 Frederick Douglass Blvd. (betw. W. 112th & 113th Sts.), 646-684-4662.

Tweet This Post

By James Greene, Jr.

According to the back of its menu, The Sunburnt Calf got its name from owner Heathe St. Clair’s beloved heifer Bessie, who filled his childhood with laughter and wonder until the day she was accidentally left outside too long in the Australian heat. Cows can’t really recover from sunburns, so Bessie had to be put down. I have to admit, reading the tale of a euthanized cow wasn’t exactly how I wanted to start my Upper West Side dinner, but how can you argue with a restaurant that offers tableside keg service and shark meat?

Alas, the Calf—an uptown offshoot of Alphabet City Australian eatery the Sunburnt Cow—does not offer what I feel is a full Australian dining experience. By that I mean there is no koala on the menu. Also absent are wallaby, Vegemite, deep-fried Paul Hogan and Kangaroo Shepherd’s Pie. The only surface tipoff this cantina has any direct link with the country that gave us Silverchair are the accents of the friendly staff. I’d like to believe these people are truly from Down Under, but they could just be desperate NYU drama students.

OK, there is Shrimp on the Barbie, I’ll give them that. It’s served with a spicy avocado dipping sauce, and it’s good enough to make you hum any given Men At Work hit. Have I thrown enough generic Aussie references at you in this review yet? Just wait until we get to my Bindi Irwin joke.

Aesthetically, The Sunburnt Calf seems to have been airlifted from Park Slope and crammed into the UWS where it could fit—on West 79th Street near Broadway.

Generally, The Sunburnt Calf offers up much of the expected steakhouse fare, but with twists just quirky enough to be endearing. The Burger With The Lot ($10) comes topped with egg, bacon, beets, fried onion, pineapple, lettuce, cheese and tomato; it challenges you to keep everything under the bun on its way to your drooling maw. Spicing up the Pesto Rigatoni ($10) are hunks of fresh shark mixed with bacon. The hearty Aldo’s Steak Diane ($15) isn’t cooked at the table, but it’s a treat nonetheless that’s accompanied by “chips” and “greens” (fries and garlic parmesan broccoli, respectively).

The Sunburnt Calf also offers numerous combination deals, including an Australian Counter Meal ($22) that gets you an appetizer, entrée and a dessert. There’s also an Endless Brunch ($18) on the weekends that includes an entrée (such as the aforementioned burger or eggs prepared “Bush Benedict” style) and all-you-can-drink cocktails. That keg service is pretty handy, too, if you feel like getting drunk with a bunch of your rowdy friends without all the hassle of ordering another round. More non-assuming parties will probably prefer to just slap down 10 bucks for The Calf’s all-you-can-drink-for-two-hours deal, which is apparently in effect at all times.

Speaking of booze, The Calf carried over many of the beloved “Moo Juices” ($7) from The Sunburnt Cow, including The Dirty Mother (Kahlua, tequila and milk) and, my personal favorite, The Illusion (Mango-infused vodka, pineapple, Midori and juice). It should be mentioned that The Sunburnt Calf’s drinks often come in bottles and topped with nipples. You know, as if you’re sucking from a bovine teat.

As far as dessert goes, The Sunburnt Calf boasts a tasty Aussie tart concoction known as Lamingtons. These tiny snack cakes are the perfect way to top off your dining experience in The Calf’s faux-flophouse dining area behind the bar (there’s more seating on a second floor, which was not open during a recent visit).

By the time I was enjoying dessert, I had forgotten entirely about the fatally scorched farm animal honored in the eatery’s name. Instead, my mind was drifting to thoughts of escaping to Angus Young’s homeland, or at least the next possible time I could swing by this perfectly cozy and fulfilling grub spot.

—
The Sunburnt Calf
226 W. 79th St.
(betw. Broadway & Amsterdam Ave.)
646-823-9255

Tweet This Post

By Shani R. Friedman

Many fried chicken devotees believe that you have to travel south of the Mason-Dixon Line or north to Harlem to have your bird cooked as God intended. Chef Charles Gabriel, of Charles’ Country Pan Fried Chicken fame, brings a little of that Southern flair to Midtown’s Aretsky’s Patroon with his latest creation. On Friday nights for a fixed $25, diners feast on three pieces of chicken, two sides and dessert, with live jazz accompaniment.

Get your soul food fix at Patroon Friday nights, with live jazz accompaniment.

I’d postponed eating there until my friend was able to come, so by the time we finally met up, I was practically drooling. She, with a Southern family, considers herself a soul food connoisseur with strong opinions on how it should be cooked. Fortunately for us, judging by the unobtrusiveness of the restaurant’s Gibson Room, the emphasis is clearly on the food. Even the musical interludes from the piano player and bassist receded into the background.

I deliberated over the sides because, really, how can you choose between macaroni and cheese, candied yams, black-eyed peas and collard greens? I went healthy with the peas but then killed the whole notion by ordering the macaroni and cheese. My friend opted for the greens and yams.

The chicken was moist, juicy and meaty, and the pieces were well sized. But onto the true test: the skin. Instead of being heavily breaded, it was thin and crispy with a little spice. Following my tablemate’s lead, I tried the chicken with hot sauce, which was a novel way for me to eat it. I liked it that way, but the bird had more than enough seasoning for my tastes without the extra kick. Though a tough critic, my friend gave the signature dish strong marks. She was less won over by the sides, saying the kitchen should use more butter for the yams and add cinnamon and nutmeg. She also wanted more heat in the greens. The macaroni was light on cheese, which worked for me because we were eating such heavy foods. I stuffed myself on that and the peas so that I could have some leftover chicken and cornbread to savor at home.

Dessert was banana pudding. It was small and light after a big meal, which was definitely a good idea. But for me, a Southern dinner ends with peach cobbler, so hopefully the menu will have at least two items featured for summer.

Now that I have tasted the legendary Charles Gabriel chicken, I must head uptown to Harlem. Life is too short for just a one-night-a-week indulgence.

–
Aretsky’s Patroon
160 E. 46th St.
Between Lexington and Third avenues
212-883-7373
Fried chicken dinner: $25

Tweet This Post

By Tom Steele

In a time not long gone by, other than the venerable Ocean Grill, you would have been hard pressed to find a really terrific and reasonably priced seafood restaurant on the Upper West Side. Somehow, this decidedly idiomatic area just didn’t lend itself to seafood-driven places. In 2007, restaurateur Danny Abrams and co-owner/executive chef Laurence Edelman decided to change that by opening a new edition of their East Village seafood shrine on a populous stretch of Amsterdam Avenue.

Mermaid Inn’s walls are hung with antique sea maps and portraits of various species of ocean fish.

The space is quite similar to that of the downtown Mermaid Inn, though of course the crowd—and I do mean crowd—is totally different. For one thing, there are a lot more regulars, partly because the Upper West Side remains the most good-restaurant-parched neighborhood in Manhattan, but also because Mermaid Inn has many continually intriguing dishes at relatively affordable prices. In gentle weather, there is a large al fresco area out in front, and a pair of large dining rooms inside, separated by the long kitchen. The room in back is preferable if you don’t want to dine in din—though as even that space fills it can get quite loud—but you don’t have to shout to hear one another. Dark wainscoting runs through the rooms, and it’s the only banquette-less restaurant I’ve been to in many weeks. The walls are hung with antique sea maps and portraits of various species of ocean fish. Wine bottles are lined up around the back room on a high shelf.

Service is studied and swift. Our server, Sarah, has a certain Nordic beauty and maintained considerable equanimity in the midst of a swelling and ravenous crowd. Chef Edelman’s executive chef is now Richard Krause, and we hit him on his opening night. There wasn’t a single false step in his cooking—no mean feat when dealing with a full seafood menu in a restaurant that regularly fills with over 90 people.

There are some very original house cocktails available. Ginger lemonade arrives in a huge red wine glass, and features Hangar One citron vodka, fresh lemon, sugar syrup and plenty of ginger. The Shanty blends mezcal, citrus and jalapeño pepper for a nice kick.

Among other less serious effects, the recent calamity in the Gulf of Mexico will drive up the price of oysters, perhaps considerably. So get ’em while you can. Start with a grand platter if you’re a group, or a baby grand if you’re a pair. There are bracingly saline clams, three trios of oysters and a generous heap of lobster knuckles, offered with drawn butter, homemade mayonnaise and that horseradishy “cocktail sauce” that seems designed for people who hate seafood, so completely does it drown out the delicate flavors of shellfish.

Curried oysters have no curry flavor whatsoever, but are topped with a cucumber puree and a delicious dollop of salmon roe, and parked on a bed of seaweed strands.

Chilled avocado-cucumber soup is a cooling puree, rather timidly flavored, but quite refreshing. The peppered, chopped shrimp rescue matters.

Lightly breaded fried calamari are perfectly cooked (a rare occurrence, truth be told) with subtle and tender results. Homemade mayonnaise and warm tomato sauce are on hand.

Sarah told us that perhaps the restaurant’s most popular entrée is the deeply luscious and highly generous lobster roll, which is served on a large buttered brioche bun with a mound of Old Bay-dusted fries. Certain other purveyors of this masterpiece of a sandwich use untenably chewy buns. The brioche lets you revel in the textures of the lightly mayonnaised lobster meat.

Pan-roasted cod arrives on a bed of truffled mashed potatoes, topped with crispy fried spinach, all surrounded by a lobster/tarragon cream sauce. The hunks of cod meat are unusually juicy and yielding.

We may be in something of a minority here, but we especially loved the fact that, instead of having to ponder 12 to 20 dessert choices, we were both presented with a small cup of perfectly delicious bittersweet chocolate pudding topped with a rosette of stiffly whipped cream. Like everything else about Mermaid Inn, this decision was just right.

What a marvelous way to bring in summer! 

—
The Mermaid Inn
568 Amsterdam Ave.
(betw. 87th and 88th streets)
212-799-7400
Entrées: $19 to $26

Tweet This Post

Walking into a wine bar can often feel a little daunting. You see a full list bursting with promise, but only a few names ring a bell. To the uneducated wine drinker, names like “rueda” and “refosco” remain mysterious grapes and blends we often skip in favor of better-known bottles, like pinot noir and sauvignon blanc. But at the two-month-old Tangled Vine, your glass of wine comes with not only the good feeling that most of the bottles are graced with organic or sustainable tipples, but with a healthy dose of education about what you are drinking.

The wine list alone is organized in an unusual way, from the lightest of the brews to the richest. But even with the comical and well-informed descriptions under each offering, the staff is more than happy to pair wine with food, or just to offer a glass you will love. I was lucky enough to spend a recent evening with Tangled Vine’s wine director, Evan Spingarn, as he taught me what went with which dish, and how different wines could really bring out the flavor of the food. With more than 160 types of mainly

The Tangled Vine offers more than 160 types of wines from Italy, Spain, France, Austria and Germany. Photo by Linnea Covingtonbiodynamic, organic and sustainable wines from Italy, Spain, France, Austria and Germany on the menu, I appreciated the wine 101.

We started with the restaurant’s signature plate, the fideos negros. Created by chef David Seigal, of Mercat and Jean Georges, this rich, squid-ink-blackened pile of small, thin noodles with braised cuttlefish and a potent garlic aioli was first paired with a light and bubbly cava brut natura ($10). Manager and wine expert Victoria Levin also brought over two reds, a sturdy dolcetto di dogliani ($12) and a glass of the fruitier ros di rol ($15). All three wines had different results for each of us. I preferred the basic, clean-cut dolcetto di doglaiani, which allowed the garlic and lush flavor of the squid ink to take charge of my palate. One of my dining companions liked the cava, which helped calm the richness of the dish with its bubbles. Our other diner went for the ros di rol, which was the most complex, as the juiciness tangoed with the savory part of the meal in a bold combo.

While we nibbled on crostini topped with perfectly smoky charred eggplant and red pepper with a light saba sauce ($6), the waiters bounced around the tables. They didn’t hesitate to answer guests’ questions about what might go well with the spring vegetable risotto ($16) or the mushroom fricassee ($16). Levin herself busied about the mainly female-packed restaurant, helping customers understand what certain wines were like and how to pair them.

Once we finished another round of crostini—this time a spicy and succulent sobresada and quail egg ($7) version—we opted for a round of sautéed pea shoots ($9) and pork montaditos ($10). The former, despite being heavy with butter, tasted fresh and was well balanced with a tossing of sweet raisins and salty pine nuts. Normally a big fan of pig, I found the pork belly sliders too rich for my blood. Maybe if the slathering of garlic dijonaise had been toned down, the meat in this dish would have shined through instead of getting buried in sauce. The organic veal meatballs ($14) were another story. Made with a great combo of light ricotta mixed with tender ground veal and bathed in a fresh tomato sauce, these treats harmonized perfectly with the glass of refosco ($10).

Three hours later, I was so full and brimming with wine lore that the thought of dessert melted away. Though next time, I look forward to trying the saffron panna cotta ($6) or ricotta cheesecake ($7). If they are anything like the rest of the food we had, I know they will taste divine.

Tangled Vine also offers an extensive cheese and charcuterie list ($17 to $29) and homemade, paprika-sprinkled potato chips, which I recommend munching on with a glass of apple crisp gruner veltliner ($8) as you peruse the menu. 

Tweet This Post

By Shani R. Friedman

When you think Yorkville, the words “dining destination” don’t generally come to mind. In fact, it’s often difficult at all to find any interesting place to eat that far to the east. Coming to the rescue on an otherwise barren stretch of the avenue is Palacio Azteca, where you can kick back with cerveza and tuck in for a bountiful, inexpensive Mexican meal.

We arrived close to starving on a balmy Tuesday night when the place was nearly empty. Unlike many other Mexican restaurants that look like a piñata exploded inside, decorations are limited to a chandelier and native wall art. We took a seat at one of the eight tables and dug into the crispy chips and salsa the waitress

Unlike many other Mexican restaurants that look like a piñata exploded inside, Palacio Azteca’s decorations are limited to a chandelier and native wall art. Photo by Andrew Schwartz

quickly set down. You can’t have chips without drinks, and I chose sangria ($6), which didn’t overwhelm me with booze, while my dining companion picked a non-alcoholic mango horchata ($2), which is made with milk and rice. When my friend said her “amazing” horchata “tasted like summer,” I did wonder if I had picked unwisely.

The two of us are guacamole junkies, so of course we ordered a plate to share ($6.95). At first I worried that they had been skimpy with the portions, but I realized that if they had given us any more, we would have just stuffed ourselves with an excess of chips. The guacamole was smooth and very fresh, but we fanatics wouldn’t have minded a little fire mixed in.

Since we had already gorged ourselves, we decided to scale back a bit, rather than go for massive entrées like burritos or enchiladas. My friend found the appetizer version of the chorizo and potato flautas ($6.95) to be more than enough food. I had a hankering for hard tacos, which weren’t on the menu, so I subbed in a pair of soft tacos with tilapia, which came with rice and beans and more guacamole ($11.50). I had a bit of a back-and-forth with the waitress trying to find out if the refried beans were made with lard or were vegetarian. After consulting with the cooks, she reported that they’re made with vegetable oil and onions, which satisfied this non-pork eater. Again, we concluded that the food was tasty, but a bit bland. The dessert menu (flan and tres leches cake) didn’t tantalize us enough to risk exploding stomachs, and we were already close to uncomfortably full.

Perhaps it’s the neighborhood, where diners are perceived as not very adventurous. But given that the crowd picked up later in the evening, the kitchen clearly has a following. Palacio Azteca should reward both old and new devotees by showing a little more imagination in the kitchen, and putting some olé on the menu.
–
Palacio Azteca
1374 York Ave. Between East 73rd and 74th streets
212-249-7313
Entrées: $9.50 and $19.50

Tweet This Post

Thanks to the assiduous efforts of the ubiquitous master designer Adam Tihany, Bice now feels as European as most any restaurant in New York City. I half-expected to see a woman with a bowl of tip money stationed outside the gent’s.

Bice’s dining room is dignified yet comfortable, with white beams and rafters semi- conjoined at the center of the ivory ceiling.

A certain dignified air suffuses the dining room without preventing it from being very comfortable indeed. White beams and rafters are semi-conjoined at the center of the ivory ceiling. Brass sconces offer gentle, indirect light. Elegantly clothed tables are set about with curvaceous low walnut chairs. Everything runs at an admirable pace, under the watchful ministrations of Bice’s amicable general manager, Douglas Alexander.

The dearly beloved classic Northern Italian dishes are second nature to executive chef Jose Liriano, whose first culinary job was, in fact, as a line cook in Bice’s kitchen back in 1996. During the interceding decade-and-a-half, Liriano initiated the kitchens in several Bices around the world, refining his own techniques to make himself the perfect fit for Bice New York, which continues to attract a steady stream of regulars and not a few celebrities, thanks to its classically prepared favorites. It doesn’t take Marcella Hazan to tell you that when it comes to most of these dishes, you don’t want any big surprises.

An ample Caesar salad is handsomely adorned with an anchovy-inflected dressing, and scattered with crisp caraway-pumpernickel bread cubes. It’s also not too cold, which can be the downfall of a Caesar salad.

A warm asparagus gratin is spring itself. The delicate light green spears are buttered and given a delicate covering of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Crab cakes are soft and soothing, sided by a smoky chipotle tartar sauce that manages to bring out even more of the lightly saline crabby flavor.

Conspicuously fresh pappardelle “al telefono” bears that moniker because when you pull a forkful of pappardelle from the plate, the clinging melted mozzarella strings out and forms a “telephone cord” that extends from the plate to your mouth. The pasta’s tomato cream sauce is deeply comforting. Douglas told us that all the pasta is made fresh every day, starting at 6 a.m.

Tagliolini is wound through with chunks of lobster, sliced shiitake mushrooms and cherry tomatoes, all sauced in a luscious lobster-shell reduction.

For veal chop Milanese, a frenched 10-inch-rib-bone-on chop is pounded to one-eighth-inch thickness, lightly breaded and sautéed. It is plated with the traditional chopped fresh tomatoes on the side, rather than engulfing the chop—a welcome departure. The veal itself was unusually flavorful and, of course, tender.

Seared duck breast is given a good rummy orange glaze, sliced and plated with rough-and-tumble mashed potatoes and an al dente chiffonade of zucchini, carrots and yellow squash.

Baked Alaska isn’t a dessert you often encounter in an Italian restaurant, but Bice’s rendition is so good it warrants a return visit. It has a layered richness that features dark chocolate cake and a welcome scoop of hazelnut ice cream.

A light but rich banana mousse is accompanied by a heap of caramelized bananas.

Puff pastry profiteroles flaunt their ironic light fluffiness. They’re filled with a tender pastry cream and doused with a bittersweet chocolate sauce.

Blessed with a terrific chef, a wonderful location and splendid service, it’s easy to see why Bice has enjoyed 30 years of great popularity. May another 30 years be in store for this destination restaurant.

–
Bice
7 E. 54th St.
Between Madison and Fifth Avenues
212-688-1999
Entrées: $28 to $44
tom@hugeflavors.com

Tweet This Post

Whether you sit at the long, sparse bar near the entrance, the cozy basement dining area or at a white linen-covered table in the airy skylight terrace space, what makes this experience most comfortable are Petiteau’s delicate, yet bold dishes. On an earlier visit, we happily slathered the silky duck liver pâté ($9) on slices of fresh bread before sampling the

Sit in the airy skylight terrace space and gaze at Queensboro Bridge while enjoying Pascal Petiteau’s cuisine. Photo by Linnea Covington

sizzling, herb butter-soaked escargots ($10 to $15). These perfectly cooked snails were worth ordering again, so when we went back, we were happy to see nothing had changed. Once they cooled enough to eat, we popped them in our mouths and marveled again at how the commonly rubbery balls of snail managed to melt in a garlicky burst on our tongue.

Escargot aside, the real specialty of the house is the moules-frites ($13 to $15), for which Petiteau is known. Bistro Vendôme serves this dish five different ways, but hands down, the creamy, mushroom broth-drenched Normande was our favorite. The basil and garlic basilic mollusks were surprisingly bland compared with the simple parsley and garlic Provençal. We made sure to soak up the extra juices with a side of salty, crisp fries ($5), which yielded to the liquid just enough to give these potatoes a kick.

Another French favorite Petiteau and his wife, Virginie, offer is an extensive wine list. With a cool, crisp glass of Domaine de la Pinardière muscadet ($7) in hand, we contemplated the dozens of bottles of dominantly French wines. We ended up just getting glasses of robust, berry-tinged tempranillo ($8) to go with the meal.

Off the regular menu, we suggest skipping the chewy, dull tripes à la mode de caen ($22) in favor of the savory parmentier ($25). This shepherd’s pie-like dish offers up juicy morsels of beef cheek, with a light black truffle jus, all in a neat square. We also loved the gently roasted, slightly sweet Maine sea scallops ($25). They came on a bed of tender orzo and porcini risotto, with a light, porky specking of lardo. Another winner was the rosemary-doused rack of lamb ($32), prepared rare with a simple potato gratin. The mustardy steak tartar ($24) is delicious and, since it is made to order, you can get it as spicy or mild as you like. The portion is huge and comes with a side salad and fries that can easily be shared by two, leaving room for dessert.

Try the excellent rich chocolate fondant ($9), which comes with a scoop of meaty coconut ice cream. We also enjoyed the creamy, slightly citrus crème brûlée ($8), made with Grand Marnier and topped with a perfect caramel crust.

All together, Bistro Vendôme is a fine dining experience without the ridiculous prices or over-the-top food. Petiteau keeps his dishes pure and simple, and executes them with class.

–
Bistro Vendôme
405 E. 58th St.
Between First Avenue and Sutton Place
212-935-9100
Entrées: $22 to $32

Tweet This Post