Filed under: bar scene, fusion, global, greenwich village, indian, nouveau american
A few weeks ago, I decided to revisit my youth by indulging in a Sunday Funday along the East Village. Brunch began, drinks were drunk and general debauchery ensued. A friend of mine who has GMed some of the better known restos around town, invited my pals and I to continue our drinkfest with a stop at the European Union – a great little spot in the East Village that serves up pan-european gastro-pub grub. Being a man in-the-know, my friend snuck us in prior to the dinner onrush and saddled us up at the bar with a few bottles of a great Spanish Rioja. Upon our departure (en route to even more bars in Williamsburg), I was introduced to a former EU chef who was hanging barside with the staff. Without a glance, I stuffed his new business card in my bag and merrily rolled on.
Two weeks later, the buzz began to erupt about the long-anticipated opening of Elettaria, the newest venture from Akhtar Nawab and Noel Cruz. Nawab, a Colicchio protege had most recently helmed the EU kitchen to quite favorable reviews; and it turned out that my mysterious EU acquaintance had recently been whisked away by Nawab to be Elettaria’s inaugural sous chef.
One night after its opening, two of my go-to gastronomes met me inside the bustling hotspot just passed the bright red frontdoor and alongside the “staircase to nowhere” that lines the right entrance wall. The decor is literally 50% Bobo and 50% Allen & Delancey, the two other joints that the designers had recently completed. The roomy, round banquettes that face the spacious bar area flank one end of the restaurant, with the other end occupied by the completely open kitchen. Exposed brick, wood beams and eclectic details including a painting who’s frame seems to disappear into the ceiling, create a warm, townhouse-like setting. In sharp contrast to the unique decor, the music was utterly boring & monotonous…obviously paying no tribute to Jimi Hendrix & the like, that once rocked the 8th Wonder [the legendary bar that once occupied the space].
Yet the signature cocktail menu from the minds of Freeman’s and Death & Co alums, does pay homage to both. Mr. Jimi’s Electric Ladyland a combination of pisco, rose jam, lime and champagne was my first drink of choice. The tropically-bent list also features the Zombie Punch, a mix of various rums kicked up a notch by Absinthe and outfitted in a tiki glass no less, and the Rita Hayworth, pineapple/sage infused tequila with lime and honey (YUH-UMs).
Though the cocktails showed strong, there were obvious signs of opening week jitters. First and foremost, our waiter’s inability to offer up much of any info about the menu options. Secondly, that many of them were not even available for the picking that evening. Our mood brightened somewhat, when we spotted Top Chef Season 1 champ, Harold Dieterle exiting – a sort of celebrity sighting to this TC fanatic. We trudged along ordering a smorgasboard of what was being cooked up.
”I don’t think I’ve ever met a pig I didn’t like.” Those were the words uttered by my friend upon tasting the Stuffed Pig’s Feet w/watercress, frisee & cashews. Though pig’s feet tend to be on the realm of sweetbreads when it comes to “weirdness factor” to the general public, themealdeal usually loves them! This time our table found them completely unpalatable – so much so, that our waiter actually shot us a look of total confusion as he removed the plate still covered in the sorry pig’s remains. Remove foot from mouth and insert Dayboat Scallops w/celery root puree, oxtail, meyer lemon & cilantro. An unexpected twist on surf & turf, this dish was innovative and absolutely delicious. The Lamb Sausage and Cured Kanpachi also showed well.
Who orders Roasted Chicken at a hot, new restaurant opening? Well my ladyfriend did and though we chuckled, her dish paired w/sweet & sour tomato ravioli and smoked sunchokes, was actually the tastiest and most comforting. The Bavette w/salsify, maitake mushrooms & fenugreek was a close second. Though initially excited about the prospect of Wild Boar, marrow, cumin, orange and vermicelli….the ultimate outcome was pure sadness. The texture was beautiful but the taste, well…didn’t exist and my abundant portion got sent back only half-eaten.
Lately every opening seems to be simply a slight variation on the previous. The menu is fused with two new cuisines, the decor is slightly retouched and added to the cocktails are stranger and stronger ingredients. Now I dig Allen & Delancey and Bobo (look out for both reviews being pulled FROM THE VAULT soon) but Elettaria just seemed to be the Cinderella of the bunch – not of the glass slipper variety but as the grungy, forgotten underling. I’m hoping a team of cartoon mice or a fairy godmother will help Elettaria iron out the kinks. Either way, upon my return I’ll have the Zombie Punch to start w/extra Absinthe…hoping a hallucinatory effect of ecstasy will cloud my judgement in Cinderelly’s favor.
~ ciao chow for now ~
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ELETTARIA
33 West 8th Street nr MacDougal / ph: 212.677.3833
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
Tis that time of year. Seasonal affective disorder sweeps through the city streets sending the majority of us into hibernation mode for at least a month. And then there is a light…it’s restaurant week! 3 courses for $35 – why that’s the deal of the century [eventhough you ultimately end up coughing up $90 a pop for the additional champagne and multiple bottles of wine your boozer friends force you to down].
My first sojourn into this crazy week o’restaurant was to Perry Street. I had originally visited Perry back when it first opened in 2005. Swarmed with the magazine and fashion elite, it was the restaurant to see and be seen at. The decor, understated modernism, echoed the overall style of the Richard Meier-designed building that houses it. Add a breathtaking view of the Hudson and a chic bar (with some of the most delectable cashews around) and you’ve got an instant hotspot. Trendiness aside, this was another venture from the illustruous Jean-Georges Vongerichten….it had to be good. Thinking back, I honestly don’t even remember what I ate, mainly due to the fact that I was there on someone else’s expense account, which of course equaled an inevitable black-out from too many cucumber martinis!
This time, the meal certainly made an impression on me…unfortunately, a bad memory I wish I could forget. It’s hard to put down Jean-Georges. He is, afterall, the man who brought us the modern classics JoJo, Mercer Kitchen and Spice Market (to name but a few from his empire). But if themealdeal is anything, it’s honest and last night’s poor excecution was a flat-out disappointment.
One glass of bubbly in, I excitedly awaited the arrival of our amuse bouche – a light celery root soup very nicely accented by the contrasting acidity of cranberry vinegar and the pleasant surprise of rosemary. A tad perplexed by this choice – to me it seems more of a summer starter - smiles about the overall taste and consistency were displayed around the table. Always indulgent, my group (a few of my regular dining & drinking compadres) supplemented our 3 course menu with 2 additional appetizers. I personally enjoyed the portobello and avocado carpaccio that was kicked up a notch by jalapeno oil and lime. The plate, however, was finally taken away from the table still replete with pieces of the carpaccio - never a good sign. See when my boys and girls like what they eat, they will lick that plate clean, ya hurd? The second addition, a rice cracker crusted tuna with sriracha was generally enjoyable. The taste of the fried crust was somewhat reminiscent to that of Kentucky Fried Chicken - not necessarily a bad thing especially with the absence of the requisite oiliness. Regardless, a scene-stealer it was not.
And so began our multi-course experiment in Jean-Georges gastronomy. The cheap bastards that are restaurant owners nowadays, have boiled down the majority of restaurant week menus to two choices per course. Come on people, we know this bi-annual promotion draws traffic during the often slow weekdays – so give a brotha a little more selection puh-leez! Obviously we ordered all of the (minimal) choices. The winter staple of creamy tomato soup proved hearty not heavy. The other option, a salad of beets, which glistened under the perfectly lit black-out bulbs overhead, was accented by ricotta and lightly toasted pumpernickel croutons – each adding a nice contrast in consistency. Mood overall: still good.
And then came the entrees. Dun, dun, duuuunnnn! I opted for the chili oil poached cod with roasted baby brussel sprouts and creamy parsnips. Minus the pleasurable parsnip puree, the entree, topped with what tasted like mini-plantain chips, lacked overall flavor. In sharp contrast to the taste-less fish, my neighbor’s grilled tenderloin of beef was nearly inedible. My salt-fiend of a friend was shocked by its overtly abusive use and equally stunned by the addition of abundant amounts of chili pepper and, what he thought to be, anise. Even the pleasant pairing of herbal spinach & liquid gruyere could not save this dish from over-seasoned obliteration.
Neither the flat chocolate pudding nor the white chocolate confection topped by an offensively potent lemon sorbet could save this meal from meltdown. Luckily the Jack & gingers and Perry Street 75s had kicked in just in time for us to be sidetracked from the check’s astonishing total. Shattering our previous record, the per person tally hovered around $100. Yowzas!
Listen, I can’t denounce Perry Street or the consistently dependable Jean-Georges completely. I will attribute this to a momentary lapse of focus during the restaurant week hooplah. However, restaurant week diners are people too! They have the same mouths to feed and pockets to empty, so treat them with respect, give them more choices and for god’s sake Mr. Spice Market, lay off the damn salt-n-pepa!
~ciao chow for now~
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PERRY STREET
176 Perry Street @ West Street / ph: 212.352.1900
