FORK PLAY January 28, 2008
Am I Too Kind? Dueling Forks at WD50. Home for Sandro.
Dear Friends and Family,
A self-described "constant reader" has emailed asking why I don't ever say where not to eat. It's true I do sometimes walk out of a neighborhood spot, full of seemingly contented people eating and drinking and flirting, wondering if I dare write about it. Sweet people, charming little place, food I never want to taste again. Usually I figure it will find an audience or it won't and the ambitious dream of mom and pop doesn't need to be shot down by me.
When I say a bistro or wine bar is "good for the neighborhood," I hope it's clear that it's not worth a detour. Recently I wrote that a restaurant was "good for the street." Pointed enough, I thought.
When I tell you that a cocktail, empanadas and the live band at Amor Cubano make the East Harlem cantina a great date night destination, it's a way of spotlighting the charm and saying it's not the food you are coming for.
I promise if it's big and expensive, hot and a trippy scene, a major chef, publicity blast or bold face hangout, I'll spell it out - good and bad.
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Am I an Old Fogey or a Sage Elder?
When Wylie Dufresne morphed from charm and delicious reason at 71 Clinton Fresh Foodinto the bold chemistry wizard of WD50 in April 2003, I became a passionate brick-thrower. Ever since I gagged over his quixotic foie gras with anchovies and cocoa nibs, I have been citing that nastiness as the poster child for chefs-run-wild. It's not that I would deny the laboratory research of Ferran Adria and all the molecular warriors and just plain bad boys who want you to love them even while they insult your palate. There is no evil in fried mayonnaise or olive oil girdled in a membrane or root beer-date-lovage and pulverized black rice clots. All I ask is that it taste good. Do I want to eat it? Would I long to eat it again?
When I recently hired Jason Spiro, a young cook/writer/ computer whiz, to help on my website, he forwarded a passionate dissection of a dinner at WD50 from his blog.
"I can't believe you really love that food at WD40," I said, worried that we would be fatally incompatible.
I decided it was unfair to still be ranting about a meal I ate on Clinton Street in 2004. After all, I did once eat a Wylie Dufresne 24 hour cooked egg that was sublime. Perhaps the chef had found enlightenment. I would return with Jason. And we would both blog about it. Click to readdueling forks.
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Sandro's Cuttlefish and Artichoke Pancake
Who could imagine that seppioline and slivers of artichoke could cohabit so deliciously in the same crusty pancake? Sandro did. It's worth a trip to Sandro's at 306 East 81st Street (212 288 7274) where the wandering Roman seems to have found a home. (See happy Roman below.) Go to BITE to read more.
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Chefs Play Musical Chairs
What restaurant mogul Drew Nieporent liked about Michael Huynh, besides his obvious talent at translating Vietnamese dishes for New Yorkers (and Vietnamese too), was his non-confrontational style. But in that same easy-going mode, Huynh abandoned Nieporent's Mai House to open Bun'Soho without bothering to say goodbye. Now the antsy chef is back at Bun trying to work out a better deal and insists he has no time to open yet another noodle shop.
Zak Pelaccio (Fatty Crab, ex-Chicken Bone Café) has a full dance card too. While waiting to open his new Fatty Crab on Broadway at 77th and another deal he can't discuss, he's taken time out to do an Asian fandango at Chop Suey, overlooking the moving madness of Times Square.
Photographs by Steven Richter may not be used without permission.
Copyright pending Gael Greene 2008
