Today's review roundup includes: Bread Tribeca, Col Legno, Asiate, La Bottega, Little Bangladesh, Coco Pazzo, Mandler's Original Sausage Co., Al Di La Vino, ONE Little West 12th, Caso Mono.
NYTimes Restaurants Marian Burros gives Bread Tribeca two stars (301 Church St.; 212-334-0200):
Taking its cue from Liguria, the restaurant offers food that is simply prepared and delicious. In fact, its fritto misto may be one of the best in the city. Tender, crisp, and lightly breaded, the assorted seafood and vegetables are fried to perfection and served on white paper. There are no architectural renderings on the plates here; no froufrou decorations, just straightforward cooking.
If you, like me, think the only kind of pizza crust worthy of the name is rolled as thin as possible and baked in a brick oven, then you would do well to make this restaurant a pizza hangout even though there are only two choices — pizza margherita and pizza with prosciutto and arugula. If you live in the neighborhood, so much the better: they'll deliver. Baking it in an impressive iron and brick wood-burning oven (handmade, custom built) does make a difference. Not just to the pizzas and breads, but also to the grilled vegetables and roasted meats.
(It's not often that people marvel over the flavor of a plate of grilled vegetables. They usually leave them to the veggie eaters at the table.)
RECOMMENDED DISHES Antipasto di mare; fritto misto; fried sardines; grilled vegetables; pansotti with walnut sauce; taglierini with pesto; tagliatelli with lamb; roasted Cornish hen; steamed mussels; zuppa de pesce; pizza margherita; branzino; shrimp with vegetables; sardines and pepperoncini on baguette; fritelle; strawberry soup; cookie plate.
NYTimes $25 and Under Eric Asimov reviews Col Legno (231 East Ninth St.; 212-777-4650):
Ten years ago, the best dish I had at Col Legno was pappardelle in a robust sauce made with ground wild boar. Today, it is still the best dish, the fat noodles just right in the savory, spicy ragù, the nutlike flavors of the meat a sturdy match for the rosemary seasoning ($13.95). I also remember the tagliatelle in a peppery mushroom sauce ($12.95), and it too holds up well. One pasta I don't remember is the lively spaghetti alla fiaccheraia ($12.95), a spicy tomato sauce with little chunks of pancetta and roasted peppers embedded within. If you are a rosemary fanatic, you will love tagliatelle al porri ($12.95), made with tomatoes, leeks and lots and lots of rosemary. For me, though, it's a cautionary reminder that rosemary is far preferable as a supporting player rather than the dominant flavor.
BEST DISHES Pizzas (except margherita), white beans, fried baby artichokes, pappardelle with wild boar, tagliatelle with mushrooms, spaghetti alla fiaccheraia, grilled quail.
. . . Bread Tribeca has other faults that are curious because they are so inconsistent with most of the food. The mashed potatoes had no flavor, not even any salt. The huge plate of prosciutto was nice but it needed something more than a couple of Parmesan breadsticks, which didn't have much cheese flavor, to set it off. The gnocchi were singularly disappointing, not especially flavorful and a trifle doughy.
NYMetro reviews Asiate (80 Columbus Circle; 212-805-8881):
In fact, Sugie’s menu is so filled with eye-widening surprises, Asiate could seat folks on the Time Warner Center’s loading dock and Sugie would still rank as the most exciting new chef in town, delivering an unexpected, shrewdly timed “Can you toques top this?” aimed at the phalanx of formidable competitors about to open on this building’s lower levels.
In a movie house, sure. On a roller coaster, you bet. At the reading of a will, you should be so lucky. But who knew you could be so enjoyably shocked at a dinner table? Are you ready to be repeatedly shaken yet stirred, or did you already know that the smoky aroma of truffle-laced celeriac purée enhances pan-roasted scallops into revealing such pungent nuttiness? Or that coconut and lemongrass veil clams in a faint but bewitching sweetness? Crab salad suddenly catches fire when swiped through pomelo vinaigrette, a terrine of foie gras when married with venison becomes a near-blessed event, and a simply seared char turns bedazzling when squired by pickled vegetables in chili vinaigrette. If any appetizer disappoints, it’s a grilled giant prawn lushly enswirled by pasta in a brandied shellfish sauce. What’s wrong? It’s not an entrée, and you will ache for more.
NYMetro reviews La Bottega (88 Ninth Ave.; 212-243-8400):
What a pleasure to find such bright, appealing plates of golden sardines, garnet-deep tuna on fragrant white beans, crunchy artichokes in white-truffle oil, vigorous rabbit ragù on pappardelle, and spunky salmon tartare with scallions and basil in a space so easy to embrace. In fact, except for the ordinary pizzas, most dishes are at least as satisfying as sweet, juicy chicken cooked under a brick, or lamb shank in white polenta. So, quick, go now. Get a solid foothold, and just maybe, by the time the hordes soon to hover at La Bottega show up, they’ll remain on the outside looking in.
Village Voice Robert Sietsema reviews Little Bangladesh (483 McDonald Ave., Brooklyn; 718-871-7080):
While mustard oil imparts color and flavor to the menu, it also serves as a frying medium. But these are not mustard's only appearances. One dish employs two kinds of chickpeas—the regular yellow type and black chickpeas—glued together with a fresh mustard paste so sweet, moist, and gritty it could be health-store toothpaste. As if mustard oil weren't yellow enough, some dishes, like the coconut-sauced fish curry ($5), employ turmeric too, creating a shade of yellow so intense it almost radiates heat.
Playing second fiddle to chicken, lamb is also a prominent feature of the steam table. On successive visits, we enjoyed it curried ($5) with a very rich gravy and in a dense beige biryani festively garnished with frizzled onions and an entire boiled egg. One day I spotted a pile of fried flatbreads, which turned out to have ground-up yellow split peas between their blistered and flaky layers. They reminded me of a similar but smoother bread called roti skin, or sometimes dal poori, that's used to wrap rotis in Trinidad. For years I had sought the roti skin's antecedent in every type of Indian restaurant I could find, but without luck. Suddenly, what might be the missing link was before me. I asked our host what the bread was called. He smiled and replied "dal poori."
NYPost Steve Cuozzo reviews Coco Pazzo (23 E. 74th St.; 212-794-0205):
Coco Pazzo wants us to pretend it's 1990 all over again. Mark Strausman, the chef when Pino Luongo first opened the place, is famously back at the stove after the former pals' long, legendary estrangement.
. . . Coco Pazzo has some fine dishes, but its once-fresh formula pales in the shade of newer Beppe, Fiamma and 'Cesca and their boot-roaming ilk. Nor does its menu even seem all that Tuscan.
Dishes that bring back the old magic include Strausman's famed osso bucco ($32), a mighty shank of drinkably soft braised veal that we stripped to the bone every time, paired with the dreamiest polenta in town. Bruschetta fegato ($13.50), sautéed chicken liver with foie gras and cippolini onions lavished in port wine, is hearty enough for a main course.
Roasted tuna ($28) arrived purple and perfect, although with near-cold white beans and lentils. But many other dishes seem stripped of their herbal accents to suit timid neighborhood taste.
NYPost reviews Mandler's Original Sausage Co. (26 E. 17th St.; 212-255-8999):
The lanky brat is a hefty snack, tucked into an almost foot-long roll, piled with tangy sauerkraut or earthy sauteed onion with mushrooms ($4.95). Mustard, ketchup and mayo are free, but a spicy sauce that annihilates all other flavors is 50 cents. So is relish, which just doesn't seem right.>. . . [S]teer toward tender bockwurst and not-too-hot chorizo sandwiches ($4.95 each). Stellar zucchini fries and crunchy-creamy, candy-sweet corn fritters prove they also know their way around a deep fryer.
Mandler's might not yet be the fast food of dreams, but order well and you won't get any baloney.
Citysearch reviews Al Di La Vino, 607 Carroll St, Brooklyn; 718-783-4565); Editorial Rating: Recommended:
It's not uncommon for restaurant waitlisters to downscale their dinner plans with this affordable, fun-to-share menu. Three or four cicheti--Venetian tapas--make a fine meal: creamy whipped cod arrives with grilled, herb-laced polenta squares, and meaty sardines are marinated with plump raisins and onions. Don't skip the thin, blistery fried dough focaccette; flavored with sage, they're gorgeous with hand-sliced prosciutto and artisanal cheeses. Klinger's beloved pastas, like airy swiss chard-ricotta gnocchi with brown butter, are the only hot foods available, though diners who've requested favorites from the full menu have been known to get lucky.
Citysearch reviews ONE Little West 12th (1 Little W 12th St.; 212-255-9717); Editorial Rating: Average:
Diners are encouraged to order several of the shareable dishes, which, considering the food isn't what's drawing most of the crowd, are surprisingly good. Atkins devotees should opt for the hangar steak, perfectly tender and nicely balanced by a tangle of fresh herbs, or the seared yellowfin tuna with vibrant minted mango. A stunningly rich mix of blue and goat cheeses tops the two mini-burgers; the "club"--celery, salmon and potato, topped with caviar dressing--is another very good choice.
NYPress reviews Casa Mono (52 Irving Pl.; 212-253-2773):
Relative to the considerable amount of buzz it’s received, Casa Mono is actually quite tiny. Though reservations are theoretically possible here, when I called on a Saturday afternoon, the restaurant was booked through 11 pm. If we hadn’t snagged those three counter seats shortly after the 5:30 opening, we would have been waiting at least 45 minutes for a vacancy. (You can wait at Bar Jamon next door, part two of Batali’s Spanish venture, but again, only in theory–the night that we peeked in, it was packed).
From the first moment that we sat down, I was mesmerized. I hadn’t realized it, but I’d been watching one chef’s dexterous hands so intently–tossing oiled brussels sprouts onto the plancha, the hot metal surface on which most of the cooking is done, spooning out pools of romesco sauce–that about 20 minutes passed before I even glanced at her face.
Watching how every dish was prepared–simply, expertly and with beautiful ingredients–made choosing very difficult. Small artichokes drizzled in olive oil, heaps of sliced rare skirt steak, a duck egg with an obscenely large yolk and salt-cured tuna–these were all dishes that I didn’t order. But to see them made them memorable. To contradict the Mad Hatter, at Casa Mono seeing what you eat and eating what you see seems like a reasonably sound interchange.
