NYC Restaurant Reviews | donuts4dinner.com » 2012 » June
With their creative, delicious dishes and impressive service that always delivers more than expected, it’s no wonder Tocqueville has long been one of my favourite NYC restaurants. They’re so good to their repeat customers that I secretly felt a little guilty buying the incredibly cheap four-course tasting deal that came up on Gilt City recently, but it was a great excuse to invite along some friends who hadn’t yet tried the restaurant. I walked away with my Tocqueville love reaffirmed, and they walked away with plans to return as soon as possible.
warm cheese gougeres
Brought to the bar area while we enjoyed some wine and whiskey, these had just enough jalapeno to add a kick without overpowering the cheese flavor inside.
The Thinking Man’s Man: Isle of Jura ‘Superstition’ Single Malt, Amaro Ciao Ciaro, Agustura Bitters, Lucid absinthe wash, chamomile grappa sugar cube
Once we were seated in the dining room, the kitchen sent out a sampling of snacks from the bar, starting with a fresh basket of gougeres and continuing with:
red beet canelloni with Montrachet goat cheese
Simple and beautiful, this incredibly crisp sweet beet wrapper paired so nicely with the dense, tangy cheese inside.
croquettes of celery root and potato, black truffle mayonnaise
So decadent, with the entire slice of truffle over the already truffle-infused mayo. The bright bite of the celery balanced the rich, earthy truffle and potato.
crab salad
Cato Farm Bloomsday aged cheddar salad, roasted bosc pear, fennel, frisee, hazelnut dressing
I generally don’t approve of salad, but biting into this one was like eating a really complex savory dessert. The hazelnuts were caramelized and broke apart like toffee, and the pear was divinely sugary and tender. The sweetness of the dish never overpowered the tang of the cheese nor the bitterness of the greens, though. Now I understand why my boyfriend orders this almost every time we visit.
truffled creamy Parmesan grits and sunny side up country egg: Squire Hill Farm Araucana egg, house cured veal bacon
Grits and eggs seem like such the low-brow rural breakfast, but they don’t make grits like this on the farm. So thick and frothy to begin with, they became even richer when I plunged my fork into the egg and swirled its dense center deep into a dish already heavy with truffles. The bacon, remarkably, was the lightest element on the plate; its prosciutto-like texture allowed it to unify with the grits rather than battle against them like fried bacon would.
seared diver scallops and foie gras, wild mushrooms, braised artichoke, cider vinegar gastrique
It seems too indulgent to have two pleasures like this on the same plate. The fresh, mild scallop and assertive, funky liver should have been at odds with each other but were perfect dishmates in this sour sauce that lent depth to the seafood and brightness to the offal.
lightly smoked duck breast, baby bok choy, Asian pears, citrus-star anise consommé
If the kitchen was trying to lure us back soon to try the rest of the current dinner menu when they so graciously sent this dish out to us, they knew what they were doing. Even the duck-skeptic among us was convinced by this absolutely gorgeous slice of breast in its orangey-licoricey broth. The bok choy took on a new personality when its bitterness was subdued by the sweetness of the sauce, its usually-limp leaves suddenly seeming like a welcome fruit of the summer harvest.
chocolate souffle, cherry ice cream
I usually look to Tocqueville for the light, citrus-based desserts, but I’ll never argue with an airy chocolate cake. This one was a bit dry and could have benefited from a sauce poured over top with the first bite, but the side of cherry ice cream with its extra-sweet but not extra-medicinal flavor and beautiful fruit splayed on top provided the moisture we needed.
mignardises
We’d already seen twice as many courses than we’d expected, but of course Tocqueville delivered their plate of petit fours to make the meal a complete feast. And you can bet I ate one of the macarons.
New York, NY 10003 (map)
Atera and the Art of Foraging
The moment the four-star, accolade-laden reviews started rolling in for Atera–not all of them from people who had actually been to the restaurant, naturally–I called for a reservation. And then freed up every Saturday for a month in case the waitlist paid off and my boyfriend and I could get a spot. It was being compared to Momofuku Ko, our favourite restaurant in NYC, and Brooklyn Fare, our favourite restaurant in NYC to hate on. The chef, Matthew Lightner, trained at the #1 restaurant in the world and the #3 restaurant in the world, was named Best New Chef and Rising Star and everything else in Portland, and has brought his foraging-centric cuisine to NYC, where foraging is kind of foreign.
Luckily, this isn’t just nuts and berries but molecularly gastronomical concoctions made to look like nuts and berries. And also rocks. And moss. And it tastes just as natural as it looks.
beer and goat cheese French macaron
This whipped frozen macaron started airy and sweet and melted within seconds, leaving a cheesy finish.
flax seed cookie
Crisp, with a note of coriander and pine nuts to add texture.
sunchoke skin with buttermilk filling
Sunchoke skin rolled into a crunchy/chewy vessel for bright herbs and sour buttermilk cream.
lobster roll
This meringue “bun” was made with yeast to add bread flavor and filled with some of the sweetest lobster meat.
horseradish parfait with halibut and mustard
Frozen but dissolved immediately, leaving behind nothing but pure horseradish flavor. The halibut was strangely lacking for both of us, but there’s a reason this is called a horseradish parfait and not a halibut one.
foie gras peanuts
Sweet, salty, creamy, and just a little funky.
quail egg
Not actually an egg but a thin skin holding a dollop of aioli. It was like eating a spoonful of garlicky mayonnaise, and I’m quite sure I couldn’t have eaten more than one.
malt flatbread
The burnt bottom of this cracker helped to cut through the richness of the foie and aioli. The charred flavor was verging on unpleasant, which is how I like all of my food.
razor clam
Slices of clam with a thick edible shell of bread. Plenty of ocean flavor packed into just a few slivers of shellfish.
lichen crisp
Yes, lichen. As in algae. Really taking that foraging thing seriously. The dominant flavor was fennel, and a sort of rock salt formation covered the skin. A malt vinegar and herb emulsion dotted the underside like moss on a rock.
the first of many drink pairings, a beer
yogurt, shad roe, rhubarb, licorice
Another truly foresty dish, this combined the cool temperatures of spring with the florals of summer. The licorice-dusted disc broke to reveal a savory yogurt center surrounded by the ring of flowers. Artful and inspired with a perfect Austrian mead pairing that really accentuated all of the right flavors.
mead: Die Hochland, “Lime Blossom”, Austria
diver scallops, yuzu, gin botanicals, pickled white strawberries
Strips of creamy scallop, the packing peanut texture of freeze-dry, juicy but sour pickled strawberries, a burst of citrus in the crevasse on either end. The meat was so mild it’s hard for me to imagine even my scallop-hating friends–yes, these people exist–resisting.
sake: Kamoizumi, Komekome, “Happy Bride”, Hiroshima, NV
peeky-toe crab, tapioca, toasted shrimp, angelica gelee
Gelee studded with chewy tapioca, topped with sweet shredded crab and crisp, vegetal red snap peas.
chenin blanc: Francois Chidaine, “Clos Habert”, Montlouis, Demi-Sec, 2008
rye bread
Salted rye bread with a distinct coffee flavor and a doughnut-like roll basted in mangalitsa pork fat, served with house-made butter made from creme fraiche and Winnimere cheese rind.
This bowl arrived with curlicues of noodles on one side and a packet full of herbs and spices in a thin gelatinous skin on the other. A server poured a test tube of mild but lovely chicken broth on top, disintegrating the packet so the noodles could be seasoned. I loved the powerful cilantro, but even better was the onion, which tasted just like French onion soup. We knew the noodles were too chewy to be pasta, but we couldn’t decide if they were tofu or squid. The smallest hint of ocean flavor confirmed the squid for us, and our server cemented it when she delivered the next dish. We were wondering, though; if we hadn’t asked, would she have told us? Did anyone without our vast food knowledge and achingly discerning palates (j/k) notice?
“noodles”
a test tube presented before our next dish
dried beet, trout roe, crustacean sauce
It looked like a chunk of stone fallen off the side of a mountain, surrounded by smaller shards, but our knives sank into it just like any old beet. The roe wasn’t just salty but added a real ocean dimension that the crustacean sauce was oddly lacking; it actually tasted just like Parmesan cheese.
riesling: C.H. Berres, “Urziger Wurzgarten”, Auslese, Mosel 1997
north coast halibut, young garlic, whey
One of the simplest and yet most striking dishes I’ve had in a while. The line-caught halibut was poached in whey that draped over it like a warm icing, a cooking method that left it tender and unfussy. The garlic was roasted until sweet and provided the only strong flavor, yet it somehow seemed like a wonderfully complex dish.
furmint: Kiralyudvar, “Sec”, Tokaj, 2009
squab, pheasant-back-mushroom sauce, pear, tarragon
A tart vinegar sauce soaked this sweet, sticky squab and its accompanying pear skins. A lemony herb and the mild bite of the garlic scape rounded out the profile with bright, “green” flavors.
sangiovese: Felsina, Chianti Classico Reserva, “Berardenga”, Tuscany, 2008
mangalitsa pork, wheatberries, lamb’s quarters, ground ivy
Spice-rubbed pork as savory as bacon was topped with chewy sprouted wheatberries in a thick, rich duck egg yolk sauce. The oniony flavor of the leek the perfect compliment.
nerello mascalese: Calabretta, Etna Rosso, Sicily, 2001 Magnum
We opted for a cheese course in place of one dessert and were a little put-off that it didn’t have the same level of creativity as one you might see at Per Se or Momofuku Ko, but we nonetheless enjoyed what we were given, namely the Rupert and the Mountaineer hard cheeses. The supermoist apple bread with chunks of fruit baked right into it was a lovely accompaniment, but with all that space left in the breadbox, we wanted jams and honeys, too.
making coffee
“rock”
Bergamot orange sorbet in a shell with the consistency of chocolate but the taste of a popcorn hull on a bed of brown butter crisp. It was super acidic, wildly tart, and as clever as it was delicious.
muscat: Jaillance, “Cuvee Imperial”, Clairette de Die, Rhone Valley, MV
parsley root split, banana ice cream, chiffon, dried milk skin
A study in textures from slick banana ice cream to chewy marshmallow to crisp shards of milk skin. It may have been delicate in presentation, but the banana flavor was bold.
semillon: Chateau Petit Vedrines, Sauternes 2007
“churro”, salsify, white cardamom, cinnamon
This is evidently . . . salsify? We’ve had it roasted and caramelized and used in place of potatoes, but never have I seen it like this. Sure, the churro was uncharacteristically chewy, but I never would’ve guessed it was anything but dough. I may have taken embarrassingly small bites of it to make sure I had enough churro to pick up all of the Nutella, but I may not be sorry about it.
bual: Vinhos Barbeitos, “Boston Bual”, Madeira, NV
bourbon ice cream sandwiches
The perfect amount of booze in a super-melty ice cream that was more icy than creamy. This was so simple but left a big impression on both of us.
truffles
As chocolatey as they look.
black walnuts
Actually salty caramels, presented in the most beautiful way.
I’m not sure we said a bad word about this place. Maybe we wanted more substance on the cheese plate, and maybe I could’ve used some spice on the churro, but the overwhelming sense was that Atera was everything everyone said it was and more. Never once did it seem kitchy or schticky. Never once did we question a flavor pairing nor a preparation. Mostly, we compared it to the restaurants it’s being compared to and found that it comes out on top. The one thing Momofuku Ko is lacking in–desserts–Atera had so many of we gave one up for a cheese course. (Oh, yeah, and you can take pictures at Atera, unlike at Ko.) And Atera was basically everything we’d hoped for from Brooklyn Fare: cool music, unstuffy service, comfortable chairs, and an atmosphere worth dressing up for. Maybe the food at Ko and Brooklyn Fare is more assertive, but I loved the subtleties of Chef Lightner’s food, the pear skins and the milk skins and the lichen. Where food like this can often come off as frou-frou, these dishes all tasted like they really had just been plucked from the forest. And at $150 for 22 courses, it’s the kind of place you can return to as often as the menu changes. Not that you can get a reservation.
The Columbus Food Adventures Short North Tour
I usually like to stick to NYC foodstuffs on donuts4dinner, because anything anyplace else has, NYC has it ten times better, right? Well, not when it comes to food tours, specifically the one I enjoyed with Columbus Food Adventures while visiting my family in Ohio earlier this month.
Not only did we have a progressive meal that started with snacks, dabbled in small plates, and then finished with a full-on entree and dessert, but it was clear with every stop that the company has a real connection to and love of the Columbus food scene. Unlike the NYC food tours I’ve been on, where we were stuck outside while the guide nabbed food from the stores and restaurants for us, we went behind the scenes and into the kitchens of some of the big players in Columbus. I walked away feeling like my podunk hometown is actually pretty savvy!
We started in the North Market, where this sign that really belongs in my Brooklyn bedroom greeted us:
After a brief overview of the tour and an introduction to our guide, we were given a salty, chewy, stretchy, buttery pretzel from Brezel, which was everything I want NYC street cart pretzels to be but never are:
Inside the Market, we strolled along the upper level to take in a rare view of the stalls below, which range from fresh lobster ravioli you cook at home to Vietnamese sandwiches (banh mi in Ohio!) you eat right at the counter they’re prepared on to waffles topped with fruit and chocolate that are best enjoyed on a picnic table on the Market’s porch. We have all of these things in droves in NYC, of course, but in Ohio, they seem more special somehow. It’s so easy in Ohio to eat at chain restaurants and to drive your car to chain grocery stores to buy meat cuts from whoknowswhere that it warms my heart to see people shopping here and supporting these things.
The Greener Grocer:
North Market Spices Ltd., with homemade mixes called things like Blabbermouth:
After a stop at The Fish Guys for samples of both New England and Manhattan clam chowder (little, ol’ tomato-hating me actually loved the Manhattan version!), we walked up the street to Knead, a kind of upscale diner using all of the local ingredients it can get its hands on, for a frittata that looked pretty standard but had this cheese that seemed to bloom with flavor in our mouths:
Next was Le Chocoholique, which has only been around a couple of years but has apparently become THE chocolate shop in Columbus. We tried a lavender chocolate and a salted caramel, but the store was just littered with the most beautiful and tempting selection of chocolates with flavors I’ve only seen in NYC’s highest-end restaurants:
A short walk along Goodale Park took us to Eleni Cristina Bakery, which supplies bread to over twenty of Columbus’s restaurants. We smelled their 25-year-old sourdough starter and all agreed to come back later this month, when they’ll open the bakery as a retail location and begin selling bread to the public.
At Tasi, we bypassed the scores of people waiting in line for Saturday brunch and went straight to the kitchen to eat a steaming bowl of the most flavorful chicken soup:
Then it was on to Rigsby’s Kitchen for a dish of gnocchi bolognese with big, fluffy gnocci, enough meat that it actually deserved to be called a meat sauce, and thick slabs of shaved Parmesan. The dining room was dark and romantic (excuse the grainy picture), but we were allowed in with our jeans and our dirty faces and grubby hands, and no one gave us a second look:
Finally, we ended up at Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream, which began in Columbus but is now so popular I can buy it in my grocery store in Brooklyn. People I know who aren’t from Ohio and therefore have no nostalgia for it even talk to me about how great this ice cream is, and I’m always like, “Yeah, how ’bout that?” Because I’ve never thought Jeni’s was really all that great compared to my Ohio favourite, Graeter’s.
But Jeni’s is that great. And the tour lets you try three scoops and all the samples you want, so I tried four kinds and chose:
• Juniper and Lemon Curd, which tasted like pine trees and all of the sourness of a lemon condensed into a marble-sized curb blob • Bangkok Peanut, which is peanut butter and honey with a cayenne kick
• Brown Butter Almond Brittle, which is just what it sounds like and crunchy
I’m officially a fan.
Such a great time, such great food, such a great guide who didn’t bat an eyelash when certain people on the tour felt like they should step in at every stop with extraneous information just to show off how Columbus-y they are, and such a cool new way to see a city I used to know so well. My friends and I can’t wait to try the dessert tour! And the taco truck tour. And the German Village tour. And . . .