LA SIRENA

Frankly, La Sirena hasn't been around long enough to have changed it's m.o. as much as it has, and thus it appears to be having something of an identity crisis.  The megalith housed in the Maritime Hotel began with a befittingly nautical theme and the Italian bella figura of the Batali-Bastianich legacy.  All this made sense, especially given the popularity of its predecessor, La Bottega, and while the vast square footage of the restaurant could be daunting to an unseasoned prospect, these guys would be able to handle it.  Right?  Well, well into a year now that it has been opened, the south dining room remains virtually untouched, and the bar has now switched to a Spanish tapas theme, as too has some of the main dining room's menu.  There are gems to be found at La Sirena, but for them, you'll have to dig.

The service was friendly enough upon encouragement, but left to their own devices seemed much more concerned with something other than where they were.  The room is as gorgeous as it was, much improved, in my opinion, from La Bottega, with a glittering expanse of hand-laid tile flooring and sweeping archways, all in a soothing, muted color scheme blitzed with highlights of signature Batali orange.  That's probably his biggest imprint here, as Josh Laurano oversees the kitchen.  He can do some wonderful things.... pastas are definitely a strong suit, and they offer an appealing option of the bis, a half-and-half plate of two selections of your choice from the twelve or so on offer.   A black spaghetti with lobster, corn and chive blossoms was spectacular both in visual appeal and flavor: Meyer lemon sweetened the tender chunks of crustacean, with ample nubs of jalapeño adding a bit of summery heat.





Before that, though, we tackled some appetizers, which were both less successful and less Italian.  Asparagus served with a poached egg weren't the most flavorful spears, although I'm not sure how much of anything else anyone could taste at all aside from the overpoweringly fishy boquerones polluting the whole dish.  This is one only some massive anchovofile could like, which wasn't me, but I enjoyed the burnt Japanese eggplant much more.  A lusty sweep of black garlic intensified the char, the far side of the plate countering with
 a kicky tomato chili broth, and roasted peppers tangled on top with their earthy sweetness.   Other appetizers juggle Italian vs. Spanish, some quite literally like the Prosciutto vs. Jamon with pan con tomate and gnocco, respectively, and other, like the snapper crudo showing more of a ceviche flair with Spanish melon and cucumber.   A lackluster Spanish langoustine (priced per beast) was draped with garlic scapes in a peppery drizzle of olive oil, and has since been swapped out for a more tempting charred octopus with peach mostarda and those crunchy pop-rocky darlings of the garnish world, finger limes.







Entrees proceeded with a downward trajectory- my suggestion would be to continue in a pasta state of mind, such as the aforementioned spaghetti or a classic version with grilled octopus, chorizo and mint or thick, toothsome
 pici with morels and thyme.  If you do venture into Secondi territory, all I can suggest is choose something we didn't, for while the black bass with grilled apricot, spring onion and eggplant was soundly enough prepared, the fish wasn't strikingly fresh and ultimately the whole dish was kind of forgettable.  The plate was fairly sparse, too, although the eggplant and spring
onion tucked underneath was savory-sweet with a tangy citronette and grilled apricots.  A side of sautéed mushrooms went well to round things out, and they were nicely burnished, nutty and earthy.  Lamb scottaditto was impressively plated, with its
 showy bones protruding proudly, but it wasn't my order, and from the small taste I had (not a big lamb person), I remember nothing except for the shishito peppers below were tough.  So I asked the orderer, and he doesn't remember anything, either, which speaks more than either my unrecollecting words or this (cruddy) photo does.



Thankfully Thea Jabjanic swooped in to salvage the evening as deftly as any Dolci possibly could.  She is a masterful pastry chef, utilizing the best of the market to their greatest advantage, and artfully sculpting them into presentations as beautiful as they are delicious.  Our Semifreddo
ai mirtilli was a showstopper, it's Heat Miser-
esque spiked meringue topping cool lime sherbet over a dense, mi-sweet polenta cake nuzzled into a jammy blueberry puree.  I would've been just as happy with her Strawberry crostata or apricot panna cotta , though, although the overall crowd-pleaser is apparently the bomboloni, doughnuts stuffed with hazelnut gelato and lily-gilded with chocolate truffles.   So if want to experience the best of La Sirena, explore the extensive wine list and indulge in dessert, and hold off on dinner there until they figure out what they want to be as a restaurant..... if they can do it in time.





LA SIRENA RISTORANTE

88 Ninth Avenue
 Tel: (212) 977-6096 

PUBLIC KITCHEN

Another celebrity chef to drop his name but leave his soul out of it.  Public Kitchen opened up in Ian Shrager's new Public Hotel down on the Bowery, and despite it's buzzy vibe and picturesque design, that Jean-George Vongerichten is the name on the restaurant is more for pomp than for posterity.  Some chefs escalate to having their names be more valuable than their talent, and such is the case at Public Kitchen.  Which is a totally fine restaurant... especially a hotel one where they're sort of guaranteed traffic, but nothing about the food that we tried said anything but "you have been fed".  And J.G. himself was IN the kitchen that evening, or at least making the rounds and keeping his eyes on the dining room, populated with his investors, buzz-seekers and an attractive overflow of hotel guests.  They were turning people away in order to keep things manageable at this early stage, so some were bumped back to a communal dining table or seated at the bar, where more casual food options are available.










So the dining room is spare and industrial, but it has an attractive coolness to it, the cool of both qualities.  The waitstaff is attractive and attentive, worthy of better food.  That said, vegetables are a stronger suit, and we began well with a multi-colored beet salad interspersed with market strawberries strewn with crushed pistachios and flounce of arugula.  Pickled shallots married the berries and beets, tempered with a generous lashing of olive oil.  Less successful were a Snack of roasted asparagus spears wrapping melted fontina in salty prosciutto- they were a little greasy and heavy, improved with a generous squeeze of lemon but not saved.  The menu shows elements of classic Vongerichten nods to Asia, but Public is of a decidedly global influence.  There are potstickers with corn, basil, lime and soy alongside smoked
 salmon and potato latkes, tuna tartare with ginger and yuzu as well as De Palo's burrata with heirloom tomatoes.  We're definitely going for melting pot here rather
 than any locationally focused cuisine.   But that burrata is a sumptuous affair, plump and milky and surrounded with magnificently juicy tomatoes.  There is also a quartet of pizzas to choose from, of unconventional ilks such as tomato and mozzarella spritzed with chipotle or three cheese with asparagus and pepperoni (two p's ... the salami kind not the nightshade).  A couple of pastas present as well: I guess it's a hotel restaurant so you have to have a ton of variety.

Then Fish and Meat round out the entrees, although an $11 side of roasted cauliflower was big enough to serve as an entree had it be served with a steak knife, AND had it needed it.  But it was far overrated, so tender to verge on mushiness, which is a pity because it had fantastic flavor with grainy mustard sauce popped in its seediness.  Roasted hake with peas and carrots was pleasant and light, tinged with a barely perceptible kiss of saffron but otherwise not too memorable.  The grilled short rib we tried didn't share any of those qualities, nor was it in any way short.  Nor is it still on the menu, which was probably smart, because it was uncomely to eat and the meat was tough.  The bone was the best part, because my tablemate owns a dog.  



 

 We were full enough from all of that to not have much interest left for dessert.  There's no dessert menu listed online, so I can't even know what we missed, but I can't imagine it was that much.  Additionally, service had some noticeable lags and the duration of the meal was about time and half what it should've been.  Wrapping things up, we moseyed past the delicatessen-style eatery in the lobby and out through the front garden of the hotel, which is definitely the strong point of Public.  The grassy patio is magical, trees underlit and just dense enough to offer glimpses of a starry midsummer sky.  Couples laughing on benches and sharing clinking glasses of cool summer wines... and SMOKING.  Which killed everything, especially looking down to notice the scads of discarded butts amassing in piles on the little lawn.  My friend asked my why all smokers are such slobs, and I responded that probably they care as much about that as they do about their lungs, which he agreed made perfect sense.  It's kind of sad, though, because a little like Public Kitchen, it has so much potential.

215 CHRYSTIE STREET 
PHONe  1 212 735 6000