Filed under: bistro, french, good for groups, meatpacking district, romantic
As of late, I seem to have morphed into one of those bitter New Yorkers who remarks at everything “new” to this city, as something old just being reincarnated into something less cool than the original. Case in point, French bistros. If it weren’t for my adoration of steak frites with bountiful amounts of bearnaise, I probably wouldn’t even attempt to mosey into any of the fresh French openings around town. Truth be told, I still always bet on Pastis above all else, for dependable, decently priced French fare (from the fries to the martini); with its baby brother Schiller’s as a close second (especially at brunch time – eggs hussarde what what!). Yet time and again, I still venture into the hot and happenin New York dining world in hopes that someone will take what has become yet another tired, old formula and reinvision it as something that will knock this hep cat’s socks off.
I was recently taken to a show featuring what I consider to be a pretty decent (and well voiced) band, The Kin. Being that my escort and I had to get to the Highline Ballroom for a 9pm set, I took my fellow Pastis enthusiast to a new bistro in the Meatpacking, Bagatelle. I told him I couldn’t vouch for how good the steaks would be in comparison but thought it due time for us to get our frites-on elewhere. The venture from the people behind Kiss & Fly (located directly next door), leaves the thumpin beats and mini-skirted raucousness of the MPD behind and quickly catapults you to a den of subtle sophistication. The prominent modern art pieces and abundant use of candles pair quite nicely against the clean white walls that line the large room. The Parisian bistro chairs, spacious tables and well filtered music fill this 90-seater with that certain je ne sais quoi.
The small bar area is perfectly situated along the back wall and serves up some mean mixology. The drink of choice for both my Kin date and my 11 lady deep, off-to-London going away dinner (for a friend…lest I be so lucky) was Le Poire Royale – one of Bagatelle’s stellar champagne cocktails . I’d opt for that or Le Blues Manhattan which features Makers Mark with muddled blueberries and blackberries, Chambord and sweet vermouth. The well priced and nicely sized wine list is also a good go-to (we went with a simple Sancerre and Pinot Grigio to pass around the table).The chic environment clad with even chicer patrons works equally well for both intimate twosomes and a gaggle of gals or guys.
I wouldn’t take a serious foodie here and my partner-in-Kin says he’ll stick with Pastis where a similar crowd (the euros outnumbering les americains as usual) but better food can be found. However, the gal pals [none a serious foodie though all fashionable NYCers who've been around the bistro block a time or two] gave their night at Bagatelle solid marks all around. Though I would ardently stay away from the carpaccio trio which was offensively devoid of flavor , the tuna tartare paired with plantain chips was pleasing. The lemon asparagus/parmesan risotto and the coquilles st jacques were comme ci, comme ca; with the calamari a la plancha proving to be the most tantalizing dish of the bunch.
Though the French are known for their exquisite culinary expertise they are probably known even more so for their sense of style and savoir faire. So leave the frites to McNally, the haute francais to Ducasse and those seductive (and heavily intoxicated) rendez-vous to Bagatelle.
~ciao chow for now~
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BAGATELLE
409 West 13th Street b/w 9th Avenue & Washington / ph: 212.675.2400
Every few months, I assemble a little group of friends for a “catch-up” dinner. This ensemble composed of 4 key players includes: a hipster, vegetarian jet-setter (though she will occasionally eat fish); an eccentric graphic designer who attempts part-time vegetarianism (she leans away from meat); a flighty event-planning freelancer (who eats any & all scraps left on other people’s plates) and myself (insert description at your leisure). Needless to say, it’s usually quite difficult to get this Sex and the City wannabe group together.
Over a very tasty and well-priced, $34 bottle of prosecco , our first toast was accordingly “to having all of us on the same continent let alone the same table”. Though we had originally planned to do Williamsburg, we were instead led to the West Village at the request of one of the attendees (she wanted to meet up with one of her suitors at a bar in the hood). This change-up was announced to me at about 4PM the day of the dinner [i.e. ain't no way we're gonna get a res anywhere at that hour]. Lucky for us, the weather was dreadful and cancellations were aplenty.
Having heard much hype surrounding one of the “it” restaurants in recent history, we scored a clutch res and headed to Centro Vinoteca. Through a small window separating the kitchen and bar area, I spotted Chef Anne Burrell calmly commanding her staff (her spikey white hair is hard to miss). We were led to the well designed upstairs dining room (request the circular booth near the far window – it’s the best spot in the house). Our waiter, who came off a bit loopy, was told at one point, to speak-up by my friend. Once he did, we all gasped at the first special he announced to us….pumpkin croquettes with goat cheese. We immediately adjusted the rest of our order to accommodate this addition.
Being that none of my guests hover above 115lbs, I find spots which feature small plates or in this case the Italian term piccolini, to suit this group especially well. In addition to the croquettes we opted for the zucchini/parmagiano fritters, the pork/pancetta stuffed mushrooms and the gorgonzola dip. We each gravitated to one particular favorite – mine being the pumpkin croquettes (followed closely behind by the stuffed mushrooms). The pumpkin croquettes, though diminuitive, struck the perfect balance of sweet and savory. The mushrooms, moist and overflowing with porky fillings were scrumptious. My part-time vegetarian-lover (insert Stevie Wonder music) loved the fritters so much she ordered a second helping and the scrappy-do at the other end devoured the tasty gorgonzola dip.
Onto our next course of shared mains. Having arrived home from a 3 week stint in India the night before, the vegetarian was in desperate need of a fish fix. The Calamari Noodles with fingerling potatoes, black olives and arugula was selected, and with every bite her grin grew larger and larger. My Farrotto with lobster, mushrooms, mint and oregano was lovingly prepared. Not overwhelmed by extraneous spices and generously loaded with succulent bits of lobster this dish achieved the perfect level of tastiness.
Centro Vinoteca uses it’s rather odd shaped space quite well and the surprisingly calm atmosphere mixed with the piccolini menu is quite conducive to groups needing a night of grubbing and gabbing. But what Centro Vinoteca has over most of NYC’s other dining hotspots is the way it takes you out of the city and to a far off place. Not Italy but…California. CV reminds me of why I always love most of Cali’s restaurants better than those of my fair ciudad. What Cali has over the East is the proximity to some of the freshest ingredients. And if you’ve learned anything from Papa John’s commercials – better ingredients, better pizza…er…piccolini! The most powerful ingredient those sun-drenched West Coasters seem to overflow with, however, is L-O-V-E…something speed-obsessed New Yorkers tend to lack, especially in the kitchen. Either Burrell has some black market vendors that get her goods that have apparently eluded other NYC chefs or she’s just that thoughtful and good of a cook! In this case, I’m opting for the love theory and the fact that Batali’s right-wing has got the chops. I believe in Burrell, I believe in her food and yeah baby, I believe in love…cuz love (and food) is all we need!
~ciao chow for now~
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CENTRO VINOTECA
74 Seventh Avenue South nr Barrow / ph: 212.367.7470
A few weeks ago, I organized a group of friends to do a last minute pre-bowling (yes bowling…we gets all kinds of Cah-razy on Friday nights) dinner at Kingswood in the west village (review en route). Late as usual, I bolted out of my taxi and ran straight west on 10th street. Scouring the block for the restaurant, I landed instead upon Bar Blanc. My eyes, nearly frozen shut, peered in wonderment at the cherub-like patrons giggling and basking in the oh-so-soft lighting (the kind that makes ANYone look good). It was all so perfect…hip & trendy yet still so inviting. Off to Kingswood I went, vowing to return to Bar Blanc asap.
Fast forward, one week to the day. My girlfriend and I decided to do a West Village romp around. I commanded the first stop to be Bar Blanc and she happily agreed. Late again, I was greeted to a glass of champagne that my gal had so sweetly ordered on my behalf. We nabbed the two corner end seats of the bar and perused the menu. Whitewashed walls, wood plank floors and stark white furnishings (the button-tufted banquettes adding a nice touch of vintage style), create a modern yet surprisingly cozy space. The convivial atmosphere and tight-knit quarters obviously helping to that effect. If you crave the most intimate spot in the house, opt for the back room. Though the style of the front banquettes is lovely, being so close to the entrance and right up on the bar’s grill offer little, to no privacy.
I tend to shy away from bar-top dining but Bar’s bar is quite spacious and the bubbly bartender who set up our place settings, was eager to offer up his fiddy-cents about the menu. Upon glancing at the menu, my friend grabbed my arm and announced that she had a confession to make. She was addicted to…pecorino! Over the preceding two weeks, she had stopped at Murray’s Cheese Shop for a hunk of it, every single night on her way home from work. As such, she felt compelled to order the baby boston lettuce, hearts of palm, poached egg and yes…pecorino salad. I am a fan of poached eggs even on salad and this combination proved impressive even to the pecorino aficionado. Two of my all-time-favorite delicacies, roasted rabbit and sweetbreads were paired together in my appetizer of choice. Laid atop baby greens and drizzled with rich ricotta cheese, this dynamic duo was superbly satisfying.
Another $17 glass of champers en route (side rant: $17 a guh-lass!!! People this is getting out of control! Is champagne only meant for the rich? wait…is it?)…well, I felt it necessary to more closely explore Bar Blanc’s (thus far) impressive cuisine. With a few more stops left on our journey, I had hoped to keep this on the lighter side of life but when I’m 2 glasses in and I see a dish on the menu that features not 1, not 2, but 3 variations on pork on the same plate, I feel pretty much forced into ordering it. I speak, of course, about the milk-fed porcelet which features roast baby pig, pig belly, terrine of pig head and is paired with a chanterelle puree, diced brussel sprouts, natural jus, cinnamon, star anise and orange. Phew! I’m exhausted. Well for all this pomp and circumstance and for my incredible adoration of the pig in all his deliciousness, this dish extended itself just a bit too far for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it but I didn’t love it…and this little piggy REALLY wanted to love it. Featuring only one or possibly two of the main ingredients would have created a more focused and pleasing experience.
Overall, the one thing I can’t blank on (pun intended) about Bar Blanc is the fact that I feel very, very comfortable there. I’ve only said this about twice in my life but Bar Blanc is the type of bar/restaurant I would open. I hyphenate the description because in actuality Bar Blanc very much retains the atmosphere of a hip bar more so than a fine dining establishment. Luckily, the chefs hiding away in the kitchen, elevate this Bar past pub-grub to the level of high-caliber cuisine. So just as with R Kelly and Jay Z, we get the best of both worlds at BB. There may be an inconsistent note here and there but overall it’s that neighborhood bar where you wish everyone knew your name.
~ciao chow for now~
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BAR BLANC
142 West 10th Street b/w Greenwich & Waverly / ph: 212.255.2330
