Nearing the Wine Century at Lupa

Last Tuesday was the designated Fancy Meal Night during my dad's vacation. To nobody's surprise, I was given free rein to pick the restaurant and precious few instructions beyond "Tuesday." After a quick perusal of OpenTable, I hit upon an odd but somehow spot-on choice: Lupa.

Yes, Lupa is highly acclaimed and known as one of Mario Batali's best, but for some reason I'd never been there. So on a slightly chilly and blustery Tuesday evening, I met Dad at the Spring Street subway stop and we headed to Lupa.

It's a cute little place, charmingly rustic and highly crowded, with throngs of after-workers crowding the front bar. If you mind being packed in next to your fellow diners, don't go here. But if you can get past that, you'll likely have a surprisingly enjoyable-- and surprisingly reasonable, given what it is-- meal.

Our server, it's worth noting, was incredibly friendly and accommodating, even getting into the spirit when I presented her with my Wine Century Club challenge. See, at that point I was 97 wines in, and given my limited knowledge of Italian wines, I basically posed the challenge for her to find some varietals I hadn't tried within their by-the-glass menu. Magic: a glass of Frascati Superiore (white) and a red with nebbiolo, and I was magically at the 99 wine threshold. (Stay tuned...)

98...

99...

What better to sop up all that wine than their focaccia, eh? Two conjoined pieces of pillowy, oil-soaked bread, spotted with rosemary on the crust. This fairly begged for a sprinkling of coarse salt to bring out the flavors, but even without it, it was some gooooood carbin'.

Mmmhmmm.

To start, Dad had the misticanza salad, which he prounced good for what it was, a mix of slightly bitter upscale lettuces and some fennel to round out the mix.

I'm clearly still getting used to this camera

I chose the broccoli rabe with ricotta verdure, an ample tangle of the veggie slicked with creamy ricotta. Surprisingly, the overwhelming flavor of this dish was lemon: there were bits of lemon rind hidden in the mixture, and it gave an otherwise potentially heavy dish a truly light flavor. I wish there had been some more punch in the ricotta (perhaps a bit of ricotta salata thrown in?), but overall, this was quite enjoyable.

Quite pretty, actually

And then the mains. Dad went for a daily special, pappardelle with pork ragu. In typical Italian fashion, it was a small portion, but Dad raved about the taste and quality.

Homely but tasty

My choice was the escarole, walnut, red onion, and pecorino salad, sans red onion. This turned out to be a light and almost refreshing salad, with the bed of shaved pecorino adding a salty bite to the crunchy greens.

Lots of shades of white

And all this, of course, was a mere prelude to dessert. Though there are choices on the dessert menu, look around the dining room and you'll see nearly every table chooses one thing only: the signature Lupa tartufo. It looks innocent enough, but it packs a true wallop. A thick, yielding chocolate shell-- not shatter-hard but almost the texture of milk chocolate-- gives way to pure, intense hazelnut gelato. A shower of hazelnuts crowns the orb, and the baseball-sized confection sits in a pool of hazelnut-studded chocolate sauce. Push through to the center of the tartufo and you'll find a brandied cherry amid a protective case of what seems like chocolate cake (or maybe a bit of brownie?). No matter-- it all disappears in the work of a couple bites.

Oh. Yum.

Lupa was a pleasant surprise. The prices are reasonable, the service friendly and laid-back, and the food (ahem, dessert, ahem) worth returning for. It's the perfect place for a classy meal when you don't feel like going through the classy-meal rigamarole. Go. You'll enjoy it. And isn't that what it's all about?

Lupa
170 Thompson Street, near W. Houston
212-982-5089

Expensive but spectacular food at Lincoln

As you may have noticed, I do my fair share of dining out, and cheap bastard/points junkie that I am, I try to make as many reservations as I can through Opentable. Because Opentable means Opentable points, and Opentable points mean Opentable dining cheques (yes, with a que, not a ck). They're basically free money to spend like cash at any restaurant that takes Opentable reservations. So with a $50 dining cheque to my name, I decided to make a last-minute, midweek reservation at an absurdly expensive restaurant and blow it all on myself. Because really, how often do you get to do that?

Well, if you're thinking absurdly expensive restaurant that takes Opentable reservations, look no further than Lincoln, the new Jonathan Benno outpost at Lincoln Center. It's been acclaimed for its architecture, but reviews on the food have been mixed. So what did I find?

In short, a beautiful dining room, showstopping food, and tepid service. (And, um, high prices. Did I mention that?) The room is sleek and mostly glass, offering expansive views of the Lincoln center courtyard, 65th Street, and the open kitchen, depending on where you look.

Service, however, wasn't as sleek as the views. My waiter rushed me in ordering, despite the fact that I had a very early reservation in a nearly empty restaurant, and didn't seem thrilled at my salad order; nor was he happy to see the dining cheque at the end (regardless of my 32% tip on the pre-tax total...and the fact that the cheque is apparently just like cash--??). Fortunately, much of my interaction was with a runner/water-filler/quasi-waiter (I couldn't quite figure his role out), who was friendly and personable and all-around awesome.

But what you really care about is the food, right? Right. As soon as I sat down, I was offered a couple of pieces of flatbread in a creative holding contraption-- think sideways desktop file holder--and a dish of chile breadsticks. Both were rather forgettable, but they whet my palate for the voluptuous and lip-smacking glass of Erbaluce I ordered, which is incidentally one of my favorite wines and one you rarely see on by-the-glass menus.

Some crunchy carbs to ease you into the meal

Erbaluce-- it's a pretty color, to boot

And just as I was about to be disappointed with the mediocre bread offerings, I was offered a choice of three REAL breads: a sesame slice, a white rustic slice, and sundried tomato focaccia. Is there even a thought process there? Focaccia, please! They offered a small dish of white-bean paste, which was smooth and mild, and a small tub of floral olive oil, which was some of the most vibrant and flavorful olive oil I've ever tasted. The focaccia itself was outstanding, among the best bread offerings I've had: super-oily in the best way possible, with an incredibly stretchy interior, a few bits of sun dried tomato for flavor, and coarse salt scattered across the top. Ohhhhghghghgh drool.

Om nom nom nom nom nom

Oh, and then they brought over the day's assaggi, which is their equivalent of an amuse-bouche. This was a tiny fried pasta parcel filled with pureed squash, kind of like an empanada. It was fresh-from-the-fryer hot, subtly sweet, and entirely addictive.

Despite appearances, not a Totino's Pizza Roll

Yes, there is focaccia salt on my thumb

Finally, the main course: the Insalata Verde Mista. This was a pile of delicate mixed greens atop a few well-roasted vegetables: a roasted red and yellow pepper, a sliver of tender eggplant, an artichoke heart, and a tiny bit of fennel. All vegetables were spiced and oiled and given as much flavor as is possible to lend to garden vegetables.

The veggies are hidden, but they're there

But who are we kidding, this whole deal is but a lead-up to the dessert course. There are several appealing options on the Lincoln dessert menu, and while I pondered the Tiramisu (described as "tiramisu meets creme brulee"--hmmm...) as well as the chocolate-lover's Zuccotto, when it came time to decide I went straight for the Crostata di Mele. Out of left field, I know; it's not something I'd usually order, but by gosh, I wanted an apple tart.

And it was a fabulous choice, if I do say so myself. This delight consisted of a butter-cake-like base covered with caramel-cooked apples, all topped with the perfect buttery crumb topping. The cake sat on a smear of pastry cream and was matched perfectly with a quenelle of mascarpone gelato, cool and sweet without competing with the apples' flavor. A bite that included gelato, butter cake, stewed apple, crumb topping, and pastry cream was a big bite indeed-- but as close to pastry perfection as I've had in a long while. And it's worth noting that the portion was huge, definitely enough for two to share (or, you know, for one of me).

Best. Apple. Tart. EVER.

Finally, the sated diner is left with a plate of mignardises. There was some sort of caramel cream cookie sandwich (not my favorite); a take on the Milano, with butter cookies sandwiching semisweet chocolate (surprisingly also not as good as hoped); a sesame biscotto (exactly as you'd expect it to taste); a gianduja chocolate (a grown-up take on the Reese's peanut butter cup, with a hazelnut butter base crowned with chocolate and topped with a candied hazelnut); and finally, the breakout star of the collection, a pistachio-marzipan confection that was nutty, chewy, and berry-inflected all at once.

That homely green thing was the best

Phew. There was a lot of food, and nearly all of it was quite good or better. But you know what the best part of the evening may have been? Just sitting there, watching Jonathan Benno in his open kitchen, witnessing the cooks moving smoothly, listening to the controlled hubbub, and basically being privy to the action of a high-quality restaurant. I know I'm a bit of a fine dining groupie, but I loved it.

My meal-- appetizer, glass of wine, dessert, came to $43 pre-tax. Yes, that's ridiculous, although with all the extras they throw your way, you get quite a bit of food. And if you happen to have a $50 dining check to fritter away somewhere, Lincoln is pretty much the perfect place to do it. You'll get a four Offset Spatula meal and a front-row seat to the action in the kitchen.

Lincoln Ristorante
142 W. 65th Street, between Amsterdam and Broadway
212-359-6500

A successful return to A Voce

The other day, I was looking for a delicious and relaxing dinner and glass of wine. The UWS/Columbus Circle was my target area, and after wandering for a bit, I found myself wandering into A Voce. Yes, I'd been there before, with mixed results, but I was kind of craving their fresh ricotta, so I was happy to be there.

The service, as always, was incredibly friendly and solicitous, making me feel relaxed and welcome. I started with a glass of wine: Chateau Martet Semillon. This was crisp and round and comforting, with some appealing notes of grass and grapefruit like a sauvignon blanc. Delicious.

It glows!

As I sipped my wine, they brought over their incredible focaccia and the coveted ricotta. There were two warm pieces of focaccia doused in olive oil, which seeped into the crust and perfumed the soft, tender bread. But forget about the bread: it's all about the cheese here. Creamy, mild, inflected with the herbs and pepper and olive oil and just absolutely addictive. Since I was alone, I ate it straight out of the little dish. It was heavenly.

A whole dish for me!

But the best was yet to come. I ordered their Insalata Estiva, which promised grilled stonefruits, arugula, caprino, and pine nuts. This was one of the best salads I've ever had. One forkful of greens revealed a vinaigrette that punched the tongue with its flavor; under the greens was a layer of grilled nectarines (I think...), which were anchored to the plate with a smear of pungent goat cheese. A sliver of red onion here and a pine nut there provided pops of flavor. The whole thing was incredibly tasty-- almost preternaturally tasty for a salad-- and it was insanely, ridiculously enjoyable.

A beautiful, filling, superlative salad

I was stuffed at that point, so I paid the bill and left, taking a cursory nibble of their traditional complimentary sugar-covered fried dough slats on the way out. I left feeling full and relaxed and happier than I had been when I'd gone in. And isn't that the measure of a truly good restaurant?

A Voce Columbus
10 Columbus Circle, Third Floor
212-823-2523

Minimalist brunch at Roc

On Sunday, AC and I met for brunch at Roc in Tribeca. Neither of us was really hungry at all (what were we doing at brunch, you might ask? Good question), so the following is what was consumed:

For me-- a green tea. This was presented just as a cup of already-steeped tea, no teabag, no press, no way to control how much the tea was steeped. I've never seen that before, and I can confidently say I don't like it. It also came off as somewhat cheap: $3 for this tiny cup of water? I dunno...

Too steeped for me

For AC-- first, the bread basket. Lots of bread here, including a very greasy focaccia that required a fork and knife due to the grease almost oozing out of the bread.

Maybe the napkin below is to sop up the grease?

Second, a cold tomato soup with a puck of breaded goat cheese in the center. AC liked it, and she ate about half of the soup with a good amount of bread.

Soup with oil and cheese

And that was it. There were some good looking pastas and salads emerging from the kitchen in addition to the paltry food the two of us consumed, so I think I'll hold off on rating the place on the off-chance I go back to give it a fair shake. Till then...

Roc
190 Duane Street at Greenwich Street
212-625-3333

A brunch to celebrate Mom

Last week, my mom was in town for the weekend, so naturally we went out for a celebratory Mothers' Day brunch. And, of course, so did everyone else in the world. Since we didn't have a reservation (and all those other people did, it seemed), we were stuck with our less-than-first choice eatery: Nizza. I'd been to Nizza when it first opened and absolutely hated it, so I didn't exactly have high hopes.

But fortunately, those hopes were far exceeded. Service this time was friendly, courteous, and prompt. Bread arrived quickly, and lots of it-- a curious hybrid of cake, cornbread, and focaccia that my mom loved.

Almost a whole loaf here

And our entrees arrived quickly after that. Mom had gone for the grilled shrimp salad, which had chopped romaine, anchovies, pickled onions, croutons, pecorino, and garlic vinaigrette. The shrimp were warm and freshly cooked, their fragrance wafting across the table. The portion was large, and Mom was highly satisfied.

Big bowl o' stuff

My choice was the bowl of seasonal fruits, sans the accompanying Greek yogurt. I was suitably impressed by the small bowl-- the fresh was uniformly fresh and sweet, and the chefs didn't cop out with a lot of rock-hard cantaloupe and sawdust honeydew; rather, this was a melange of pineapple, mango, raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries. It hit the spot.

Little gems

You all know I'm not a brunch person, but when it has to happen, turns out Nizza isn't such a bad choice. As a result of its solid brunch performance, Nizza earns a huge upgrade to Three Offset Spatulas.

Nizza
630 Ninth Avenue, between 44th and 45th Streets
212-956-1800

Celebrating New Amsterdam at the Market!

Yesterday, AV and I trekked down to South Street Seaport to check out the New Amsterdam Market. I had such a great time the last time it popped up way back in June of 2008 that I was excited for the new rendition. And I wasn't disappointed. Below, a photo journey:

Reps from our favorite eatery, Brown Cafe!

Some delicious bread action from Fairway

The Porchetta people, hacking away at some pork for their famous sandwiches.

Delicious hard cider from Bellwether Hard Cider. We bought a bottle of the blackberry flavor. Mmmm.

A bounty of fall produce.

This focaccia from the Hot Bread Kitchen was the biggest focaccia I've ever seen. When this lady caught me staring, she offered me a piece, and it was delish.

More carbs from Wave Hill Breads. AV bought a demi-baguette and gave his seal of approval.

The "Edible" publishers, giving out free magazines. Nice.

Yummy goat cheese from Painted Goat Farm. A black pepper chevre also made its way into our stock of supplies...

Reps from the Bent Spoon, an ice cream company in Princeton, NJ. The line was too long for me to even nab a taste.

And we were off. The highlights: free copy of Edible Manhattan; lots of cheese; scrumptious hard cider. The lowlights: a taste of mead (don't ask. And seriously, don't drink); too many people. But in the context of the New Amsterdam Market, lots of people is a good thing! If you missed it this time around, check it out next time when it emerges like Brigadoon at the South Street Seaport on October 25th.