Mimi on Bruni v. Chodorow

Legendary Times critic Mimi Sheraton weighs in on the Bruni/Chodorow controversy over on Slate.com. An excerpt:

Frank Bruni will have the last word, of course, as we in the press always do. But I don't envy his dilemma when he has to review Chodorow's next creation, Wild Salmon, promised to spawn shortly. Bending over backward not to hate it and thus suggest revenge, he might love it too much, proving that he is fair. Stay tuned.

The Chodorow Strikes Back

Oh, the drama!

For those of you who read Gawker or follow the New York forum over on eGullet, this post will hardly come as a surprise.

Come to think of it, for anyone who follows New York dining in any way whatsoever, you'll probably think what follows was the inevitable product of the Times' recent decline into Style Section Central and the accompanying ire for Frank Bruni's flowery, two-star heavy reviewing style.

Today's Dining section featured a full-page ad from Jeffrey Chodorow aimed squarely at Mr. Bruni's judgment of Chodorow's latest venture. Chodorow is the restaurateur behind, among other spots, Rocco's on 22nd - documented in soapy detail on that reality show The Restaurant, and he dates the critic's ire to that venture's implosion.

The problem is, the letter come across like something written by a petulant child. He veers between legitimate complaints about Bruni's food cred (something that's been chatted about for years) and oddly hysterical defenses about Kobe Club, his new restaurant, which received a 0-star rating from Bruni in last week's review.

That said, it's certainly spawned some fun times in New York blogosphere, with coverage on eGullet, Eater, Gawker...you name it. Even better - Chodorow vows, at the letter's close, that he will be tailing Bruni and his NY Magazine counterpart, Adam Platt, as they move from restaurant to restaurant - he will, in effect, be reviewing their reviews. His new blog to that effect can be found at http://www.chinagrillmgt.com/blog/ and is titled "Chod-o-blog."

Let the games begin?

Trading Pumas for Uggs

About a year ago, I did my first eGullet foodblog - they're quite fun, a bit more interactive than your average blog, with people interjecting into the flow of your own writing.

I just started my second one this morning, so my posts here will be a little sparse over the next week or so...but I hope you'll follow along over here!

I'll try to post any highlights here, and will definitely be farming that blog for ideas for this one.

Cheers!

Where everybody knows your na-a-ame.

Ouest is one of those lucky Manhattan restaurants that has managed to become an institution by virtue both of location (in that there's practically nothing else like it in the area - not a huge feat in the West '80's) and the quality of its food. I've eaten there upwards of 30 times over the last three years, and the meals have never been less than very good, and have sometimes verged on excellent.

Over the last year or so, my favorite spot in this "restaurant and tavern" has been the latter: eating dinner at the bar (either alone or with friends) is great fun, particularly if you manage to linger late over a glass of wine. Around 11:00, the bartenders turn just a bit raunchy, the television is turned to AMC, and talk turns to old movies and slightly dirty jokes. (Do try and avoid the slightly skeezy older gentlemen customers who linger on weeknights, however - they managed to waylay a friend of mine for almost two hours back in December, when her faculties had been compromised by too much wine at dinner.) Settle back into your red leather bar stool and relax.

My meal last Saturday ended just that way. It started with an aborted attempt to eat pasta up at Celeste on Amsterdam and 83rd. The half hour-long wait (and no bar at which to pass the time) drove me and my friends Cristin and Paul down to Broadway to grab a drink at Ouest's bar. When we all ordered glasses of the Ex Libris Cabernet, the bartender suggested a bottle. An hour's drinking later, we had finally snagged three seats at the bar and opened our menus.

Ouest serves what may well be the best green salad in the city. Large lettuces mix with small in a generous pile (portions at Ouest are never less than big), lightly tossed in a red wine vinegar dressing, its tang softened by the salty, umami flavor of the Parmesan. The cheese is emulsified into the dressing, so it coats each green, making their surfaces just slightly rough on the tongue. I'm a sucker for a salad, and this is one of the best, hands-down.

In December, I started with the smoked duck and crispy egg, another strong choice. The egg arrives atop paper-thin slices of smoked duck, coated in a crispy batter. A poke releases the yoke, which oozes out slowly, moistening the dish. The egg's crunchy exterior contrasts with the duck's meaty texture, but the flavors, all rich, eggy smoke, meld together.

On both visits, I had the squab for my main plate. It's pan-roasted and served with a duck liver risotto. The squab itself is lovely - more delicate than gamy - and the risotto is rich and earthy, topped with crispy chanterelles that offset the creamy texture.

Ouest's menu is particularly heavy on the game (venison, squab, rabbit) and organ meat (liver, braised tripe), and is not at all vegetarian-friendly (though it boasts some very nice seafood plates). Overall, the food is rich and heavy - comfort food. This is not the place to come for a light meal - even the simple grills are imposing in size. The prices reflect the generous portions; dinner with wine has rarely run me less than $80 per person, though I find it's typically worthwhile.

And, toward the end of the evening, if you're an entertaining guest, my guess is that Sid or Dan will top your glass off a few times for your trouble.

Ouest
2315 Broadway
Between 83rd and 84th Streets
212.580.8700

No, Tony wasn't there...

Last Wednesday, I had dinner at Les Halles, where they inducted R.W. Apple and Peacock Alley chef Cedric Tovar into their Choucroute Hall of Fame and simultaneously kicked off their eighth annual choucroute month. Previous hall of famers include one of my all-time favorite food writers, Jeffrey Steingarten, inducted in 2005.

Tony Bourdain did not make an appearance, but we had a pretty good time without him.

The event was great fun, attended by a few people I was honored to meet, including Andre Soltner, the legendary Alsatian chef, and Bryan Miller, the former New York Times restaurant critic. I will admit that I couldn't quite forget Ruth Reichl's descriptions of Miller in her latest book, Garlic and Sapphires, where she takes him to town a bit on his reception of her as his replacement at the Times.

In any case, it was a wonderful evening, and you can read all about the musings it prompted on Alsatian food in New York over here!

A preview:

Les Halles is a brasserie firmly rooted in Manhattan, so their choucroute menu is appropriately reflective of our belief in variety, featuring not one, not two, but four kinds of choucroute. Choucroute garnie, the kind most people think of first, is simmered in pinot blanc and comes with smoked pork, pork and veal sausage, and mustard on the side. Next is the aforementioned choucroute poisson, with smoked herring, fish sausage, scallops, and salmon caviar. Of particular interest to many foie-loving eG'ers, no doubt, is the duck choucroute, with foie gras, duck breast, confit...and choucroute royale, with a little bit of everything, the choucroute itself simmered in champagne.

Yes, more pasta!

Yesterday for lunch, I made an old favorite: pasta with amatriciana sauce. I first had this dish at my favorite spot for Upper East Side Italian, Paola's, which is right around the corner from my apartment - literally - I don't even have to cross the street to get there.

Traditionally, amatriciana is a sauce served with bucatini, a kind of thick, hollow spaghetti. The sauce is made with guanciale (cured pork jowl), plum tomatoes, red onion, and lots and lots of crushed red pepper. I make it with Schaller and Weber bacon, and, yesterday, with some oddly-shaped short pasta I found at Williams-Sonoma.

The sauce takes less time to make than you'll spend getting your water to boil and your pasta to cook, so next time you have 15 minutes on hand, why not give it a go?

Bucatini all'Amatriciana alla Queenie
Serves 1

1/4 pound bucatini or spaghetti
Kosher salt
1/8 c. slab bacon, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
2 tsp. olive oil
1/4 small red onion, roughly chopped
1 clove garlic, sliced
2 small plum tomatoes, chopped
Crushed red pepper, to taste
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated, to taste

Set a pot of water on to boil for the pasta. When the water reaches a boil, add salt and the pasta.

While the pasta cooks, heat a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat and add the bacon. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the bacon is crisp and had given off most of its fat. Drain all but one teaspoon of the bacon fat from the pan and return it to the heat.

Add the olive oil, red onion and garlic, and cook over medium-high heat until translucent and fragrant. Add the tomatoes and continue to cook, stirring frequently. Add crushed red pepper to taste - the dish should be spicy.

As the pasta cooks, spoon a little of the cooking water into the sauce, which should be kept at a simmer. The sauce will thicken (thanks to the starch in the water). When the pasta is cooked to al dente, drain it (do not rinse) and add immediately to the skillet. Toss the sauce and pasta together for a minute or so over the heat, then remove from the heat and add the cheese, stirring to combine.

Serve immediately.

Bar Room at The Modern

Midtown Manhattan is a bit of a culinary wasteland. There, I said it.

"No, wait!" you'll protest. There's the Four Seasons, the venerable La Grenouille, Lever House is fabulous - and I suppose you're probably right, so long as you're dining on an expense account. And if you're not, lunch near my office at 52nd and Madison tends to be a salad from one of the many Pax locations which dot the area - or, if you're feeling indulgent, an $11 wrap from Fresco on the Go (oh, the gluttony).

But, hark, my friends - from the distance there approaches a beacon of light - The Bar Room at The Modern. What's that? No, no - it's not smoky, it's not dark, and it's not a place for a burger and a pint. It's one of the most exciting developments in mid-priced Midtown dining in...well...a really long time.

My first meal at The Bar Room, back in November, was a delight. I'd been hearing about the place for months on eGullet, but hadn't made the two-block trek from my desk to its door. When my friend Aimee called and proposed we meet for lunch somewhere between our two offices, I decided the time had come.

From 53rd Street, you enter the restaurant through a double set of sleek glass doors, walk through a glowing white foyer, and emerge at the host stand. Your coat is taken gently from you, and an extremely snappily dressed host escorts you to your table. The room itself is all gleaming mirrors, blonde wood and black leather, and is dominated at opposite ends by an illuminated photographic mural of a leafy wood and three stainless steel paneled pass-throughs to the elegantly shining kitchen.

The Bar Room's space is larger than that devoted to The Modern, its more formal and more expensive sister, from which it is divided by a frosty white glass panel. While the dining room is hushed and looks out on the sculpture garden, the Bar Room is bustling, the patrons craning their necks for views of one another's food.

And what a view it is. The menu is comprised of three stages of small plates. On both visits, I've had two savory plates and coffee; on my most recent trip, this afternoon, I also had dessert. This was more than enough food for me, but then the plates vary somewhat in size, so those with larger appetites may consider an additional round.

The standout dish during that first meal was one we both ordered - the roasted garlic gnocchi with wild mushrooms, sage, and crispy sweetbreads. It's a wonderful dish, an example of the things I love most in my food - contrasting textures bound together by the subtle coordination of their flavors, both bold and delicate. I often find gnocchi to be big, clumpy and doughy, but these are diminutive, delicate and light. The fried sage leaves disintegrate on your tongue, leaving behind a hint of their woodsy flavor. The sweetbreads are in tiny pieces, breaded in something lighter even than panko, and fried. Their crispness cuts through the toothy dumplings, and the whole dish is bound together by a rich mushroom gravy. It's a bit like the forest, in fall, on your plate.

Today's lunch started with a tarte flambee, a traditional Alsatian thin-crust tart topped with creme fraiche, lardons, and onions and cooked in a pizza oven. This tarte flambee reminded me distinctly of the ones I sampled in Alsace, unsurprising given that The Modern's chef, Gabriel Kreuther, was born and raised in the region and attended culinary school in Strasbourg. The crust was delicate and thin, almost cracker-like, topped with a thin layer of the cream and smothered in onions and bacon. It distinguished itself with a generous amount of black pepper, an element that works as well in this creamy bacon dish as it does in a carbonara. It was fabulous, and huge - the three of us all had a couple of slices.

Duck confit called out to me from the third stage, and I was not to be disappointed. Its skin seared almost to the point of burnt, the meat was falling off the delicate bone in juicy, tender pieces. The accompanying frisee salad was dressed in a vinaigrette that tasted alternately of fruit and shallots, and the lyonnaise potatoes on the side hid a small mound of caramelized onions as sweet as the juice in the dressing.

And, finally, dessert. I ordered the beignets, which garnered singular approval from our lovely waiter. No small plate these - five palm-sized beignets arrived at the table, accompanied by a small scoop of maple ice cream, caramel, and mango marmalade. Freshly made, piping hot, covered in sugar and cinnamon, they went best with the ice cream and the caramel, though the marmalade was a lovely shade of yellow and certainly livened up an otherwise brown plate. Sadly, I could not finish the plate of beignets, only managing three, and that last one was a doozy. This is a dish meant for sharing.

Wine at lunch makes me sleepy, so I have not yet had a chance to read through the wine list - I'm told it's superb, and plan to go as soon as I can to see for myself.

THE BAR ROOM AT THE MODERN
9 West 53rd Street
Between 5th and 6th Avenues
212.333.1220