Small plates and big wine at L'Artusi

Usually those miserably rainy, truly soaking days like the ones we had last week encourage me to stay inside, even if there are tempting things to do out in the world. But even last Monday's Noah's-ark-style deluge couldn't keep me from venturing down to the West Village to meet my former employers, M and W, for a long-overdue celebratory dinner at L'Artusi.

My soggy self found them sitting at the bar (at really comfortable chairs, mind you, extra points there) having a drink; we were soon shown to our table right opposite the bar to get the food started. We didn't get to venture very far into the deceptively large space-- there were more tables on the main level opposite the open kitchen, as well as a whole upper level packed with diners. The decor was modern but unobtrusive, and the place was buzzing but not deafening. Truly comfortable overall.

After a relatively involved ordering process, we began to taste the fruits of our labor, beginning with the bread. We had already started on the wine, a delicious crisp and full white from J. Hofstatter in the Alto Adige region of Italy, so I needed at least something to start sopping it up in my empty stomach. The bread, a relatively unobtrusive flour-dusted white loaf, did nicely, primarily as a vehicle for the intensely herbal and spicy olive oil.

Bread to begin

And then a round of small plates began to land. The crudo started things off-- I believe M and W had gone with the scallops. I abstained, but they devoured the delicate slices of fish.

Almost translucent

Then we were on to some vegetables. First up: sweet, rustic beets with a surprisingly rich and creamy yogurt sauce, all offset by peppery watercress.

Buried beets

Then, my main attraction: butter lettuce with an assertive dressing, accompanied by hazelnuts and bits of olives. This was truly, truly delicious and about as hearty as a plate of mostly lettuce can get.

Usually topped with gorgonzola, but I declined-- it was plenty rich anyway!

On to the pastas. M and W shared the delectable pici, a tangle of thick noodles bound with a lamb ragu and showered with pecorino.

This portion was actually smaller than it looks here

They also dove into the grilled octopus, which came German-potato-salad-style with potatoes, olives, and pancetta. When the runner placed the dish on our table, he stated that "the chef recommends you squeeze the lemon on top." Oh really? Then we shall! (Ahem.)

Tentacles 'n' taters

We then attached the dutiful green veggie, a side of vibrant broccoli rabe flavored with garlic and chiles.

Roughage

And finally, perhaps the sleeper hit of the evening: the unassumingly titled "Mushroom Ragu." This was an almost stew-like concoction of creamy polenta topped with lovingly caramelized mushrooms, which themselves bore a jaunty dollop of robiolina cheese. Take a scoop of polenta and mushrooms, swirl in the cheese, and you have yourself a bite of the most decadent, stomach-filling Cream of Wheat possible. If you're a vegetarian in search of comfort food, you've found your holy grail.

Droooooool

Phew. You'd think by this point we would have been slumped over, clutching our stomachs, but no! We were ready for dessert. (Note: This go-get-'em attitude was aided by a second bottle of wine, a robust ruby-colored red that I completely forget the name of.) M chose the olive oil cake with raisin marmaletta, vin santo, and creme fraiche mousse. I stole a tiny bite when he was distracted, and the cake was incredibly delicate and tightly-crumbed in the manner only olive oil cakes truly achieve. The wine-soaked raisins were a boozy treat.

A generous wedge

W and I went straight for the caramelized pineapple sundae, anchored with coconut gelato, topped with coconut mousse, and studded with chunks of almond cake and a piece of almond brittle. This was a hot (cold?) mess in the best way possible. I love coconut sorbet or ice cream, and this coconut gelato was mild and silky-smooth. The coconut mousse sat like a marshmallow beret on top of the ice cream, pierced with a triangle of almond brittle. The chunks of stewed pineapple and the pieces of delectable almond cake provided necessary textural contrast. And needless to say the whole thing was gone in under 2 minutes.

Went down like water

Phew. By the time we had finished and stepped out into the world, it was pouring in earnest, but I didn't quite feel the drenching rain as I walked to and from the subway-- I was too absorbed in my food and wine coma. I had been meaning to go to L'Artusi for quite a while, and golly I'm glad I finally went. The food and wine are incredibly thoughtful, and the ingredients are impeccably fresh. The space is appealing, and the service is solicitous if a bordering on a bit pretentious. However, it's worth noting that a blowout meal at L'Artusi can get quite expensive-- for the most part the portions are truly small, and that's coming from someone who eats tiny portions as a matter of course. If you're a hearty eater or you're coming with a group, ordering a number of small plates will cause the bill to add up rather quickly. Even with that caveat, though, L'Artusi is a solid four Offset Spatula restaurant and a fantastic destination for any lover of Italian food and wine.

L'Artusi
228 W. 10th Street, between Bleecker and Hudson
212-255-5757

Round two at Brown Cafe: Still the best mac & cheese in town

On Saturday night, before the madness of halloween truly got rolling, AV and I met his friend PP for a pre-Yankees-game dinner at Brown Cafe on the LES. As you may recall, AV and I absolutely adored BC when we went last and vowed to return. Unfortunately, with the LES being so very far away from both Hell's Kitchen and the UES, we haven't made it back. Until now!

We entered the small, rustic wood-clad room and chose the same table in the window nook as last time. After regarding the tightly-edited menu, we made our decisions. PP ordered a beer; AV and I sipped water from the tiny water glasses until our genial server brought over a complimentary amuse-bouche: a simple salad of al dente chickpeas, roasted red peppers, and avocado. It was uncomplicated but pure of taste and consequently something to be savored.

Simple salad

At this point, Hannah, the manager, came over to say hello, and as we chatted she mentioned she had been trying out some recipes for mulled wine. A few seconds later, all three of us had tiny coffee mugs of steaming, fragrant beverage in front of us. I've never had good mulled wine before, but this was absolutely it: with a spiced fragrance and the complexity of wine underneath, all with a touch of sweetness, this beverage was warming through and through. It positively begged a wood-burning fireplace to curl up next to.

Deliciously warming to the core

We nursed our wine and waited patiently for our entrees, which emerged a short time later. AV, of course, had chosen an entree portion of the mac & cheese-- the piece de resistance of Brown Cafe. It was just as good as we remembered, with several kinds of gooey, meltey cheese enrobing firm pasta, all covered with the best kind of cheesey crust. PP had to try it as well, so he ordered a side portion, which came in the cutest little mini cast-iron skillet I've ever seen.

Mother mac and baby mac

PP's main entree was the leg of lamb with herbed asparagus, gruyere, smashed potatoes, and mustard aoili. This was an incredibly generous portion and was highly approved by PP and AV, who snuck a taste.

Meat & potatoes

My entree was the beet salad, which came with greens, walnuts, and mint. All the ingredients in this salad were top-notch, and the mint added an interesting touch to what could be a mundane combination. You can't go wrong with pretty much anything vegetable-based at Brown Cafe, since everything is so thoughtfully sourced, and that was certainly the case here as well.

Greens with beet jewels

With our entrees successfully packed away, we moved on to the dessert course. Our server brought over a trio of example desserts: an apple turnover, a dense brownie duo, and a mixed-berry crumble. PP and AV ordered the brownies to share, and we sat back to digest. In the meantime, Hannah came over with her second cocktail project, a pinot-grigio-based wine cocktail with a thyme accent. I'm usually not a huge fan of herbs in my cocktails, but gosh darn this was surprisingly good-- a subtle sweetness with only a whisper of thyme at the end. Well done.

Even with a greenery garnish, you've got yourself a good cocktail

Soon our desserts emerged, and the house had graciously supplemented the brownie order with an extra mixed-berry crumble. The brownies were incredibly dense and fudgy and came with chestnut ice cream; our server had described the ice cream as "distinct," and I truly agree-- it was very heavily chestnut-flavored. While I really liked the brownie, which was as true an expression of chocolate as you'll find, being a non-fan of chestnuts I had to pass on the ice cream.

Chocoholic

The crumble was also both simple and tasty. A layer of tender warm strawberries and blueberries lay under an oatmeal strudel, all topped with a scoop of green tea ice cream. Once again, the green tea flavor here was powerful (and being a not-huge-fan of green tea flavor I had to pass once again), but the crumble itself was delicious.

Incongruously green, with cute mini-skillet

At that point we were stuffed-- but as we got the check, of course there was one last surprise, tiny mini-bites of the house bread pudding. Positively delicious, especially the creme anglaise on top.

The final bite

Having such a delightful experience at Brown Cafe is bittersweet. The food is so simple, thoughtful, and well-executed, and the price-points are lower than you'll find for comparable food most anywhere else. If BC were located any closer to either AV or me, we'd go on a weekly basis. But it's just so far away from both of us, we have to reserve it for special occasions. However, dear readers, if you live any further downtown than we, please do yourself a favor and visit the four-Offset Spatula Brown Cafe. And get the mac & cheese. You won't regret it.

Brown Cafe
61 Hester Street (at Ludlow)
212-477-2427

Breaking bread, and more bread, at Blue Hill

It was Friday night, and AV and I had a birthday party to attend later in the evening. But first we needed dinner, so as usual I turned to Opentable to peruse the available offerings. I may in fact have let out an audible gasp when I spotted something rare right there on my computer screen: a 7PM reservation at Blue Hill for that night! Immediately I snapped it up and called them to confirm the res. I'm assuming somebody cancelled or failed to confirm a reservation for that table day-of, but whatever the circumstances, their loss is our gain. We were on.

We made our way to the West Village and found the buried, subterranean entrance to the vegetable mecca that is Blue Hill. Service was top-notch from the moment we arrived-- we were escorted to our table graciously by the host(s) and several other members of our dining room. And immediately we encountered pretty much the only lapse of the night: it must be said that the tables at Blue Hill are extraordinarily close together. We were seated a banquette against the wall with about 6 inches between our table and those on either side. It was such that you basically couldn't avoid eavesdropping on and/or participating in your neighbors' discussions. Thankfully, our particular neighbors (including an older couple, whose choice quotation of the night was provided by the lady to her husband in reference to her dessert: "Much better than your nuts.") were riotous. But you are taking a gamble when you make a reservation-- bad neighbors = bad meal.

Regardless, we pushed on. We made our decisions, placed our order, and immediately dove into the bread basket. While the butter provided was a bit too hard and also unsalted (and unaccompanied by any salt on the table), I'm being nitpicky-- I do declare that the bread in this bread basket is the best in the city. To wit, I reference the thin, crackly ficelle loaves that are stuffed into the upright cylinder that lands with authority on your table. I implore you, ignore the seasoned flatbread in this jar-- think of it as the baby's breath in your bouquet of carnations-- and go straight for a long, slender baguette. Crack open its crust and watch it shatter, giving way to an air-filled, stretchy interior. Slather with butter and gobble. Repeat. I believe at one point in my meal, after I had consumed two full baguettes, I labeled this "the bread that makes you feel bad about yourself," since you eat so much of it and never really get full. But if this is what self-loathing tastes like, I'll have a second helping.

BEST

While our attention was fully diverted to the bread, we were treated to an amuse-bouche. A medieval-torture-device-like contraption appeared with tiny baby vegetables impaled on spikes emerging from a thick block of wood. We rescued the veggies bite by bite and popped them in our mouths; the marinated little bites had great flavor and were impeaccably fresh (not surprising from Dan Barber, of course). A great prelude to the meal.

An artificial forest

After a wait that stretched a wee bit long (cue consumption of second baguette), our entrees arrived. AV had selected the grass fed lamb, with curried chick peas and winter vegetables. I tasted the chick pea mixture, and it was incredibly tasty, spicy and hearty. AV raved about the lamb, which was delicately cooked and sliced across the plate. Definitely a winner.

Lamb 'n' peas

My own selection was the "Eleven winter greenhouse greens and herbs" salad, which came with roasted and confit mushrooms, marinated winter vegetables, lettuce and mustard vinaigrette. This was one of the best salads I've ever had. It was almost preternaturally flavorful, and I kept digging under the lettuce to find bits of the tastiest, most satisfying veggies I've ever encountered. The presentation-- on a slab of slate-- was also fittingly creative for a groundbreaking salad. I could have eaten twelve of these, and if I ever have the good fortune to return to Blue Hill, I will most certainly order this salad again.

There's so much going on here that you can't see...

While we looked at the dessert menu, there was nothing that really jumped out at us, so we paid our bill and headed out to find dessert in the land of gelato (hooray, L'arte del Delato!!). While Blue Hill is certainly not flawless, my gripes are small and relatively insignificant when you consider the quality of the food. With the best bread in the city and one of the best salads I've ever eaten, Blue Hill deserves four Offset Spatulas and a ringing endorsement. If you can snag an elusive reservation, seize the opportunity to taste vegetables that will change the way you think of the food group.

Blue Hill
75 Washington Place
212-539-1776

The Rereview: A birthday revisit at Pera

It was the bro's birthday this past Wednesday (April FOOLS!!! Hahahahaha. No wait, it really was), and for an extra special treat, the Mom came in from Massachusetts to take JT, the bro, and me out to a celebratory dinner. Per my suggestion, we made our way to Pera Mediterranean Brasserie, a place I'd been to with my mom and thought the bro would like.

We were seated at a large table with a great view of the open kitchen (score!). We took our time placing our order, but shortly after we had completed the transaction, Pera's interesting bread basket arrived. I say interesting because the bread is tasty-- almost completely hollow and studded with sesame seeds. But, being hollow, it's almost entirely unsatistfying. The best part of the basket is the tangy, pungent feta cheese that's really delicious ladled into the empty interior of each small pocket.

Bread. It will fool you with its emptiness.

Our appetizers emerged quite promptly. The bro had selected the crispy phyllo rolls, which our waiter described as "Turkish mozzarella sticks." Once the rolls had arrived and the bro had taken a bite, he described the order as "a mild tweak." According to their consumers (JT had one as well), the rolls were okay but not great. Not worth ordering again.

Tweak!!

Mom and I split the Maroul salad, which she had gotten last time. It was a delectable mixture of shredded romaine, dill, scallions, and feta cheese. Light, salty, and tasty, it's a salad worth traveling to.

Crunchy, light, green, and white

After we finished our apps, we sat and waited. And waited. The wait for our entrees stretched on and on, long enough for me to begin picking the sesame seeds off my half-eaten roll. Finally, after our waiter assured us our dishes were coming right out, the entree course did arrive. First up: my mom's fish, the catch of the day. I believe it was dourade, prepared the same way as it was last time, with a green foamy sauce and a fried pepper on top. She enjoyed it, as she does all sea creatures.

Like froth from the sea.

For my entree, I got the grilled vegetable and haloumi salad, which I had so enjoyed last time. This time, I requested the chef go easy on the oil, because it was a wee bit oily last time. I'm not sure if that request was what did me in, but this version of the salad was not nearly as yummy as last time. The cheese, in particular, felt as though it had been grilled many moons ago and sat there for a while-- the edges were incredibly tough and oil-saturated, so much so that I wished I had had a steak knife to cut it properly. Taste-wise, it was still on point, but I was disappointed by the texture.

The cheese looks like chicken

Finally, JT and the bro had both gotten the lamb steak special, a fajita-esque sizzling skillet of lamb with a little arugula salad on top. Both consumers absolutely RAVED about the lamb. JT deemed it the best lamb he's ever had. Let's say that this dish produced two very contented customers, including one contented birthday boy, which did my heart good.

Best. Lamb. Ever.

So there we go. Needless to say, we had a Billy's Bakery birthday cake waiting at home, so we passed on dessert and headed home. While the pacing was a bit of a lapse in the otherwise up-to-par service, I will add one thing worth noting: About halfway through the meal, one of the drunk, loud idiots sitting at the table next to us spilled a glass of red wine, which splashed all over my umbrella and my purse. While the drunkard made no effort to apologize, at the end of the meal the manager of Pera came over, gave me his card, and told me if I had any dry cleaning bills as a result to send them his way. Not that I'm going to dry clean my purse (if I knew what other ridiculous crap was all over that purse, I probably would have dry cleaned it long ago, but as it stands... well, meh). But it was a very classy gesture. So while my food was a bit less stellar than last time, the raves from JT and the bro and the extra-mile effort from the manager mean that Pera keeps its four Offset Spatula designation. It's a truly great place for upscale, tasty, generally well-excuted Mediterranean food in a beautiful and buzzing dining room.

Pera Mediterranean Brasserie

303 Madison Avenue, between 41st and 42nd Streets

212-878-6301

A mixed bag at Bar Breton

After a very long hiaitus, the girls got together once again for a Sunday night dinner-and-dish extravaganza. Our location this time: Bar Breton, the new-ish Flatiron restaurant specializing in buckwheat crepes.

I arrived at the storefront on a rather desolate stretch of Fifth Avenue first, and the hostess seated me gladly. While waiting for the other girls, I sat in our hard wooden booth and gazed around the mostly-empty restaurant; it was cheery and pulsed with upbeat, loud music. The waitstaff largely left me alone and continually refilled my tiny, shot-sized water glass while I waited.

Once the girls arrived, we made our choices and placed our order, with the waitress providing recommendations when asked. As we commenced our wait for the food, a small bread basket arrived with an iron thimble full of butter. The bread was dense and hearty wheat bread, the kind that feels like one of those expanding sponges in your stomach after you swallow a lot of it. The butter was really soft and spreadable, but unfortunately it was unsalted and there was no salt on the table. The bread also seemed relatively unsalted, so the whole package was a bit bland.

Blurry bread

It was quite a while before our entrees arrived, which was somewhat surprising, especially since we were one of only a few parties in the restaurant on a slow Sunday night. First up came SL's "braised lamb shank" buckwheat galette, topped with roasted winter vegetables. It was quite pretty but rather small-- she dispatched the entire galette in a few bites (which she said were delicious, it must be noted).

Isn't this pretty?

AC had ordered the "Open Face" spinach coulis galette, which came with goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. She requested mushrooms instead of the tomatoes, to which the waitress assented eagerly. The first galette that arrived had the tomatoes; apologizing profusely, the waitress whisked it away to be replaced, despite AC's protestations that she'd just pick out the tomatoes and didn't mind. When the real thing came back, everyone dove in for a bite, and it was very tasty and incredibly filling. Interestingly, the taste of the crepe itself isn't a huge draw-- if you haven't tasted buckwheat before, it's simultaneously very nutty and very bitter, almost like over-toasted (i.e., burned) nuts.

The first version

My own selection was a combination of two sides, the roasted baby vegetables with parsley butter and the spinach & mushrooms. I requested both with minimal butter/oil, but not surprisingly both were pretty buttery/oily. The baby vegetables were cooked very well, but I wasn't a huge fan of the taste of the parsley butter. The spinach & mushrooms, however, were really delicious; despite the fact that our waitress had described the mushrooms as "regular white mushrooms," they were in fact delicious tiny gourmet mushrooms, which were really tasty.

Like the veggies from your youth

These mushrooms look like delicious

After we finished, service lapsed entirely; the time between receiving the dessert menu (which we didn't want) and actually receiving our printed credit card bills stretched to a half hour or more. Again, this was surprising, because the small restaurant wasn't full-- it was as though our previously engaging waitress had just forgotten our booth existed. Regardless, we had a good meal at Bar Breton-- while not every dish was a huge hit, the highs were high, and the food was clearly creative, fresh, and well-crafted. I'd return to try some of the salads or a dessert crepe, and I certainly respect what Bar Breton is trying to do. It deserves a solid three Offset Spatulas.

Bar Breton
254 Fifth Avenue
212-213-4999