GREYWIND

The wind picked up that evening, and in this sort of grey and industrial corner of town, the name Greywind seemed fully appropriate. My friend found it initially off-putting, while I found it sort of mysterious and elegant. But regardless of initil impressions, Greywind gusted with promise upon arriving. We were swiftly seated at a comfortable table of lovely striated wood near a far wall, a perfect vantage point to appreciate the thoughtful and artistic design of the space. There are accents of deep blue lacquer, and despite its subdued color scheme, there is a gentle kinetic energy to the room. The kitchen was slightly visible from my seat: a glimpse into some of the really nice moments to come.

Our server was efficient and graceful, well-informed on the wine selection and thus helpfully informative. I ended with a delightful (new to me) Fiano which I will subsequently keep an eye out for, while my tablemate went for something sturdier, Greywind's version of a Manhattan, subtly perfumed with chocolate, orange and amaretto for a decadent spin on the classic. We toggled over the Restaurant Week menu, a really solid deal, but I was too covetous of the scallop dish on the main menu to aquiesce to frugality. Lucky for us, they accomodating the switch with an acceptable supplement, also charged for the ribeye for which my tablemate opted. But it was a twenty dollars well spent.

We decided pretty quickly on our first courses, since the Restaurant Week menu slims your choices somewhat (sometimes FEWER options are better). But the one I wanted whether Main or RW menu was the same, so I was in luck. It was a composition of crucifers (a blend of brassicas. Lol.), combining cauliflower and romanesco, lightly roasted, in a slurry of black garlic. I actually would have preferred the roast to be a little less light, and also that the dish would have been warm-ish, rather than chilled. Maybe in the summer it

would've landed differently, but the flavors were robust and fulfilling, regardless. A salad of koginut squash, fennel and aji dulce was expectedly cool, and a lovely balance of tangy, sweet and fresh. Even better might have been the crispy potatoes with smoked chili and buttermilk ranch, which recalled one of my best childhood food memories: the Little John Spuds at Friar Tuck's Chicken of yore. Delicious morses of fried potato with just a nudge of heat tempered by the cool tang of buttermilk and crunchy crescents of pickled celery.

And while these appetizers were good, the main courses we chose were exponentially better, renewing my claim that Dan Kluger is one of, if not THE best chef in the city right now. (That he is a James Beard semi-finalist is no surprise whatsoever.) My infatuation with him began with his stint at ABC Kitchen under Jean-Georges, gained momentum at Loring Place, and has not faltered one bit since. And obvious I'm not alone in this assessment: to open up a restaurant in

this area of town, of this scale, in today's economic climate requires mad chops. Kluger's got 'em. And every bite of our main courses proved this. My tablemate went meaty with the ribeye, unconventionally served off the bone in a tender, sauce-sluiced medallion over fluffy garlic mashed potatoes. Even the aroma induced wild salivation, and each bite lived up to that introduction. And as spectacular as that was, my scallops were even better. They say hunger is the best sauce, but maybe They haven't had THIS sauce yet, that garlicky, zesty slurry lubricating toothsome shelling beans and gorgeously plush scallops. Three big fat ones nestled themselves into the supporting stew, "frosted" with n'duja that infiltrated its spunky heat into each bite.

As the Restaurant Week's menu was structured, we were both entitled to dessert (not that we would've gone without at this point. The anticipation of further sensory pleasure was at full throttle). My tablemate leaned in for the chocolate, a fudgy tart with salted caramel and burnt marshmallow, refreshed with a tangy crème fraiche ice cream that didn't synch for me as well with the other elements, but was sensational on its own. The marshmallow alone makes this dessert worth getting, not being much of a chocolate person myself. But that marshmallow was ethereal.

My preference lay with a brown butter apple cake, lighter than its decadent, smothered appearance belied, with fresh bits of tangy, sweet apple just bound with the buttery crumb of the moistest cake ever. Candied pumpkin seeds added a nice, nutty crunch to the rich custard, and it is a generous piece of cake... probably big enough for two (or in my case, leftovers for the next day, which I can attest are easily as good the next night).

The dining room was fairly sparse upon our arrival, but filled up nicely as the evening progressed. And I'm sure with Kluger's recent J.B. semi-finalist nomination to remind people of his brilliance, tables are probably more difficult to get even now than they were upon my recent visit. Get one while you still can; the finals are announced April 3.

451 Tenth Ave. NYC, NY 10018 hello@greywindnyc.com (347) 252-4012

CAFÉ CHELSEA

https://chelseacommunitynews.com/2023/11/03/show-story-experience-memory-iconic-hotels-cafe-chelsea-is-making-its-own-history/

BOTTINO

 I had kept Bottino in my back pocket as a go-to destination for when I needed somewhere reliably close by and moderate in price.  Given that spontaneity is one of my weakest attributes, I never found myself in such a need of it.  But I'm

 on a rampage to check those place off my list that have been there for far too long, and on a crystal clear but cold winter night, I ventured west to the veteran bistro

And cute as a button is Bottino, quite a large space, which they say is even better in the summer when the garden is open.  But I can't imagine anything much more attractive than it's winter coat, festooned with star-shaped lanterns strung from the rafters, emitting a luminous glow echoed by the smiling waitstaff.  We were seated swiftly, but the place was busy.  At capacity, or at least close.  The dining room is mostly whitewashed, and my only complaint is that the heavy wire-grid chairs kept snagging my tights, even with the seated cushion as a buffer.   Other than that, it's much like I might design a restaurant of this echelon, and it also boasts a private dining space in addition to the expansive dining room.

The menu is approachable: modern, seasonal Italian.  I started off with the fried artichokes, which (caveat emptor) were a bit more fried-y-fried than I might've wanted, but exquisitely crispy (which also made some of the batter easy enough to scrape off and lighten the dish somewhat).  It's a huge portion of them, too, of which I finished only about half, even though that had that addictive Lays-potato-chip intrigue to them with their bite of chili and mint.  I definitely ate more than I originally intended, but it's also big enough to share.  My tablemate opted for roasted beets (my go-to, so I was happy to finish his off).  They're also big enough

to maybe share, although I probably could have finished them on my own, a much lighter presentation than the 'chokes, dusted with a crumble of crunchy pistachios.

Before.... way before we came even close to finishing those, our main courses arrived.  There didn't seem to be any confusion on our server's end, shuffling plates around to try and fit all of the newly arrived dishes to ones still in progress.  The first thing to go was the bread plate, which was notably stale and terrible, left untouched anyway, so was a bit "good riddance."  (Note to Bottino: get better bread.)    But the real problem that remained, with all that unsynchronized distribution, is that I totally forgot to photograph our main dishes. 

 I'll at least go to the effort now of outsourcing a photo from Yelp so you don't have to, which isn't a great one but does look ostensibly like what showed up on my plate when I ordered the branzino.  Much to my dismay (which may have also played into my forgetting to photograph it), my tablemate ordered the same dish I did. I should've switched to the octopus, but the restaurant is pretty loud, and since I had ordered first, it seemed cumbersome to confuse our server, but in retrospect I should've risked it.  Branzino has become rather

Photo credit: Karen L./Yelp

 ubiquitous and isn't really that sensational to begin with, so while their preparation was solid, it wasn't anything to write home about.  I liked the marble potatoes and spinach underneath as much (or more) as the fish, fresh and well-cooked as it was. .  

Dessert went the way of my photography omission: somehow the check was brought before considering it, so we just took it as a sign that dinner way over. I don't know if it was an oversight or they needed the table... or maybe they're just not that strong on dessert. There is no dessert menu listed on the website, but some Yelp photos (sorry for all the Yelp refernces here. It's not a website I ever even acknowledge except in emergencies) actually look pretty appealing. That said, you're on your own. If they follow the quality of the rest of the meal, you won't be disappointed, but you might not beeline to return. .  

246 TENTH AVENUE TEL. +1.212.206.6766

EMPIRE DINER

 There are few restaurants I have visited, and basically none at which I could be considered a regular.  But this was my fourth visit to Empire Diner, although ostensibly, at the same time, my first.  Empire Diner has changed ownership and concept so many times since it's original classic diner iteration established in 1946, and has now found quite strong footing under the leadership of the Cafeteria Restaurant group, a capable entity for the takeover.  

Never in my experience has Empire Diner been a classic diner of Americana lore, slinging hash and silver dollars, greasy burgers or blue plate specials: that was before my time.  But given the landmarked real estate, there is some of that mystique clinging to the sleeked up eatery, by no means frou-frou and still offers pretty good bang for your buck.

Because portion sizes are pretty generous!  To start things off, we took our waiter's recommendation of the roasted cauliflower over fried artichokes (which was a tough decision, 'cause I love both, and there were also shishito peppers trying to elbow their way into the decision), but my tablemate and I both loved the cauli.  True, it was cooked to within an inch of complete disintegration, but I love me a well-cooked vegetable, and this was executed in sumptuous way.  If you don't like your veggies super tender, opt for one of the others we were toggling between.  But it's sweetness was coaxed out by that generous cook time, and countered with the slight,

 nutty bitterness of tahini and a fresh herb vinaigrette.  I kind of wish it would've achieved a hint more char on the outside, but it is pretty hard to criticize after we almost literally licked that plate clean.  My tablemate opted for the tuna tartare, which was a admittedly a tad basic with avocado, ginger and soy, but the potato chips that came along for scooping it up were stellar: perfectly crispy and salty.  

For mains we went surf & turf: one branzino and one meatloaf.  The latter, while truer to classic diner form, was frankly pretty bad... although my tablemate really liked it, so...?  For me, its texture was homogenous and a little mealy, the meat bland but the tomato glaze overpoweringly tangy and sweet.  The mashed potatoes that accompanied might have had a firmer texture than the meat (they were quite good) and a hefty portion of steamed collards beneath balanced the plate well.  The carrots, on the other hand, were fairly bland and undercooked, especially paired with meatloaf.  

The branzino was more successful, a sizeable filet bedded in a similarly generous portion of bloomsdale spinach, with the crispiest of skins and topped with chunks of colorful olives. Simple but satisfying.  Maybe the crowning glory of the night were the charred brussels sprouts, kicked up with calabrian chiles and a bit of colatura for funk. 

 Some of the larger halves were a little underdone, but the smaller ones came close to perfection.  

I had my heart set on a big ol' slice of diner-style homemade pie since before even ordering our repast, but oddly enough there's no pie on the menu (at least not March).  Maybe it's a seasonal thing?  Anyway, lots of ice cream and cake options, and maybe a banana praline pudding would've been more appealing had we not been so full.  There are some certainly 'Grammable milkshakes, too, with various toppings.  

Our waiter was charming and attentive, as was the maitre d', both of whom checked in on us at regular intervals to assure everything was copacetic, which it was.  Which makes me think the current iteration of Empire Diner might stick around as long, or close, as the original.  

210 10th Avenue 

tel. 212.335.2277 

THE COMMERCE INN

 I waited longer than I wanted before visiting The Commerce Inn, much as it was prioritized on my go-to-list.  But there's something about the precious Commerce Street address, sort of cozy secret little nook of a place.... a little hard to find, a little off-the-beaten-path, and one of my favorite streets in New York during the autumn season. 

 Also, I imagined that the powerhouse team of Rita Sodi and Jody Williams would have an ace hand to deal with fall ingredients at a rustic, farm-to-table eatery such as it is.  So as soon as brussels sprouts popped up on the menu, I was there.

And then, tragically, they were the worst thing we ordered.  Well, if you like unadorned, raw brussels sprouts, well, here's your dish.  To be fair, they were paired up with thinly sliced apples and walnuts, and a pretty little salad, but nothing on the menu indicated that they would be raw, and quite surely, they were listed just beneath a cauliflower options that was roasted into complete and divine submission, salty and soft with the crispiness of breadcrumbs to counter the pillowy pulp into which the crucifer had been reduced to.  Or uplifted to, in actuality.  And that is how forgettable the disappointment of the brussels sprouts were, whisked away by our charming waiter, after explaining how they were not at all what we expected.  That cauliflower was brought in its stead, and a wonderful substitute it was. 

Nutty and plush, bedecked with toasty breadcrumbs anointed with olive oil  and anchovies that only deepened the savoriness of the dish.  

This is what one should expect from the food at The Commerce Inn, hearty and savory and utterly delectable, but refined and nuanced in the fashion that these two ladies are well known for.  Not dissimilar from Major Food Group, Ms Sodi and Ms Williams have what amounts to a Midas Touch, and especially with the fickle nature of  the New York dining scene, have proven their prowess time and time again.  The Commerce Inn is no exception, and perhaps in my opinion, my favorite of their mini-empire.

The room is barn-like and spacious, although a lot of table are packed into the room, so noise levels can escalate and there is a definite feeling of conviviality and ease.  The menu on the website is much more succinct than the actual offerings, with almost as many specials listed daily as were listed on the menu provided, in its funky Amish script  and elemental descriptions.  We order quite a bit of food for just two people, but there were so many things left on that menu I still wanted to try: the green beans with bacon, Shaker beans, either of the two fishes (a porgy or a whole seabass), all of which looked sensational. 

But that cauliflower was equally as good, and if I had to only recommend one dish as a must-have from the experience, it would definitely be the cod cakes.   They were sublime, meaty with tons of fresh, flaky white fish and tender nubs of potato, nicely salted and crisp of crust.  Had the brussels sprouts only have enjoyed the same treatment.......

From then on we trended on the meaty side of things, the best of which was a pot roast-like mince served over thick slices of toasted sourdough- sort of like an open-faced pot-roast sammy.  Or not "pretty much"; that's what it was.  And a sensational rendition of it.  I was less thrilled with the Flinstones-esque beef rib, a special of the night. Although visually impressive in its heft alone, served on the bone (or at least for as long as the tender meat would cling to it).  Too fatty for my tastes, but the parsnips alongside soaked up a lot of the jus poured over top tableside, and my tablemate and I were a bit Jack Sprat about the whole affair, so it ended well.

  

We were unfortunately a bit topped out after all that, but those desserts... from an apple cobbler (that I still would made room for had my tablemate cooperated), homemade pudding or a sticky date cake, all would warrant a repeat visit.  And in a completely out-of-character move, I will go back and order those cod cakes again, which is frankly unprecedented, and hopefully clarifies exactly just how awesome they were, and this whole place is.

50 Commerce Street

www.thecommerceinn.com

DIVERSION PDX: CAN FONT

 We never did quite determine the exact translation of Can Font, but all estimations esems to imply hospitality and bounty, both of which were certainly extant.  The place is just recalibrating its footing, and no need to reiterate, these days, it is rocky terrain.  Pandemic regulations and all the implications just keep throwing curves.  So while we were (thankfully) able to eat inside in a dining room which was relatively full, I still felt nervous that a place like this could survive. But it felt good to be out (and in) in downtown Portland.

The dining room is elemental: sparse without feeling desolate.  It would seem to benefit from a fuller house, for a bit more festivity.  A lovely chandelier of bulbous globes loomed above, and the bustle of the open kitchen helped.  Large murals of what appeared to be scenes of Catalan Spain... (perhaps Barcelona?) flank the bar and far wall (in which I recognize Gaudi-esque undulations), in subdued greys and black, cushioned banquettes of gorgeous teal velvet add a pop of color.

We started off with pan tomate, its rich salinity balancing surprisingly fresh and sweet tomato concasse for December... or even for July.  Four fat squares of pillowy bread, sharp with garlic, cushioned the mash, so there was plenty to share.  Which was good, given the garlic... at least we were all going to stink together.  

There was a nice kick of garlic in the Verduras Temporales as well, although they could've used both a little more time on the flame and a lot more romesco: instead they came across slightly dietetic, although far be it from me to really whole-heartedly complain about a platter of vegetables.  I wish they would've been more enticing, though, as pretty as they were to behold.  

My dining opportunities for this holiday trip to
Portland were too limited to get very ambitious in ordering: I ordered pretty conservatively, fearing to end up with something I didn't want.  Thus, two of us order the same entree, but it was so good there were no regrets.  The Zarzuela came as a hodgepodge of fresh seafood in a lusciously savory sauce, redolent with garlic, tomatoes and peppers, and maybe a touch of saffron in a rustic clay bowl, tinged with olive oil.  For diversity's sake, I wish I would've tried the salmon with lentils, but I couldn't have been happier with the fish stew itself.  

One tablemate was less enthused about by her polenta cake.  It wanted the sauciness of the zarzuela, but instead it had just a skimpy pool of red pepper coulis and not quite enough mushrooms to whet its whistle.  Makes me think the kitchen is a less enthusiastic about produce than protein, if our menu choices were any indication.

All that time spent NOT dining out had been filled baking at home, so we had tons of Christmas cookies on deck back at the homestead, making dessert at Can Font less appealing, but too their sweet offerings of a flourless chocolate cake and a dense cheesecake seemed a little heavy.   I wouldn't  doubt their deliciousness, however, as our dinner at Can Font had a pretty can-do aplomb.  

1015 NORTHWEST NORTHRUP STREET

tel.5032243911

THE MARY LANE

Don’t go Google-mapping Mary Lane as some obscure street in Manhattan you’ve never heard of. Power-team Mike Price (The Clam, Market Table) and Joey Campanaro (The Little Owl) of Blackfoot Hospitality recently opened up The Mary Lane in the West Village, which is rife with non-numerical streets, but The Mary Lane is named after an heirloom varietal of fig, not some quaint off-the-beaten path path.

Located at 99 Bank Street, this address has historically incurred a high turnover rate, with even such reputable chefs as Harold Dieterle and Harold Moore, who were unable to make a go of it here. This should not be the case with The Mary Lane, however, as Blackfoot Hospitality has an almost unblemished success rate, and their concept for and execution of this new venture are completely en pointe both with the neighborhood, what is trending now in the current dining scene, and pretty much every element of what constitutes The Mary Lane. 

The team had been looking for a place in which to expand their empire since fall of 2019, and arrived upon the 99 Bank Street address particularly since they “like corners in the West Village,” notes Price. Then the pandemic hit, and their progress slowed significantly, but they used the time to finesse and hone their vision. For the name, they had originally they tossed around iterations of fig varietals, in different languages, etc., but arrived upon the succulent eponymous species of fig and knew they’d found a winner. Both feminine and naturalistic, they determined the power of the fig to be a perfect balance for the two men at the helm. And while the restaurant is in no way fig-themed, they expect to utilize the luscious fruit for inspiration, at least seasonally. Right now, chef de cuisine Andrew Sutin has imagined pancetta-wrapped figs saltimbocca, kind of a devils-on-horseback riff, and a fig tart for dessert, both of which would be tough to argue with in any season.

As for the rest of the menu, Price and Sutin have conceived of a vegetable-forward, seasonal American menu.  We started with a terrific mushroom tartare, a fine dice of lightly marinated king trumpets topped with crispy slices of sunchoke and a flurry of herbs... really delightful.  

Heartier on the vegetables front were the vadouvan roasted carrots nestled into a bed of pumpkin seed hummus, studded with pepitas and Bulgarian feta.  We chose a vegetarian entree to share as well, and it may have been the highlight of the evening:  a pavé of sweet potato, kale, and roasted mushroom layered with ricotta, just bursting with autumnal goodness, and a rich swath of charred onion soubise to bolster the umami.

But omnivores too will not be disappointed. Price said the he had developed a strong, long-standing relationship with Ottomanelli Butchers (also nearby on Bleecker Street) in his other ventures, appreciating and reciprocating their loyalty and commitment as suppliers, especially throughout the pandemic. He will enthusiastically continue relying on their expertise and pride of product as their meat purveyors. That said, even the meatiest of entrees, like a rosemary braised pork loin, is balanced with a luscious house-made sauerkraut featuring market-fresh caraflex cabbage, and it might be the cauliflower and braised baby fennel with roasted Mutsu apples alongside a pristine filet of Hudson Valley steelhead trout that make it so good.  

Nova Scotia halibut, seared golden, takes advantage of late-season grapes to add sweetness to a saute of hon shimeji mushrooms... another favorite of the evening.  A better-than-basic New York strip featured some outstanding onion rings.... gone before the meat was: another testament to Sutin's proficiency with produce.

 

  

And as goes without saying, I can never pass up the brussels sprouts, although to be honest these were the least noteworthy dish of the night- slightly underdone and thus a little bitter and raw tasting, especially with the well-cooked bits of squash that adorned them.  They seemed like they didn't get equal footing in the oven, but needed it. 

 

Their creativity, and loyalty, is likewise funneled into the design of the restaurant. They utilized Alta Indelman, an industry icon who created the unique interior of The Clam and its gorgeous vaulted ceiling of glittering seashells. Colorful artwork adorns the deep blue walls, including a vibrant painting by Steven Fragale mounted just past the long cherry wood bar, playfully lit by orb-shaped lamps suspended from the ceiling. The painting has augmented reality features that provide 3-D perspectives when used in conjunction with your smartphone, adding to the intrigue.  Even the lights on each table, miniature lamps atop spindly stems, are fun to play with, altering the light intensity by touching the base (which also helps for menu visibility, and then dimming it more moodily when precision reading is no longer necessary.)

We skipped dessert having filled up too heartily on the savories, which is a pity, really, because they had a rustic apple pie on offer that night as a special, probably carried over from Thanksgiving, but the pear and quince crisp with oat streusel and ginger gelato was equally, if not more, tempting.  But my tablemates were vying for the chocolate cake with espresso buttercream, and lacking consensus, we opted out.  Which, as is so often the case, gives me an excuse, among all the other wonders of T.M.L.,  to go back.  

99 BANK STREET

Tel. (212) 597-9099