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

ORSAY

Somewhere around 2:45pm

 
The first association I had when I was invited to brunch at Orsay was the Musée in Paris.  And this wasn't too far off, as it definitely had a bit of a museum feel to it.  Orsay, a classic Parisian-style brasserie, has to be one of the older restaurants in New York.  Even the clock above the door was stopped in time: although they say even a broken clock is correct twice a day, it was not correct for us at any point since our brunch reservation was at 2:30, and we certainly didn't shut the place down long after midnight.  

The whole place seems a bit from another era, waiters in waist coats and bow ties, heavy chandeliers and white tablecloths.   And while other eras aren't necessarily a bad thing, this place definitely seemed a little dated.  The menu is broad enough to provide something you at least like on paper, and I ended up liking my choice much more than my tablemate.

As it was brunch, we didn't dig too deep into the variety of offerings, but I couldn't resist a whole steamed artichoke... too much effort for a single girl dining alone at home, so it was a treat to have.  Pooled in the center was a nicely viscous vinaigrette, although I really just couldn't wait to scrape through the thistly leaves and get to that heart, which is the real prize, although this one was a bit on the mushy side.  Still, I love them so much it was still appreciated.  Alternatively, there most of the classics also on offer: tartare, escargots, a soupe a l'oignon.  So you get the idea.

Entrees toe the same line, and my tablemate went with the steak frites, which I'm not sure he was that thrilled, although he finished it.  I stole some fries, and they were good: piping hot and super crisp, some with bits of skin and nicely tender inside.  Salty in the right way.  I can't vouch for the steak, nor am I a good meat judge, but suffice it to say that as the only thing my tablemate ordered, and his overall appraisal of the restaurant was mediocre, I'll just go with that.  Luckily, my Royal Seabass à la Plancha was quite good... a meaty filet, really nicely cooked with a good crisp skin.  The fennel-potato fondue beneath was rich and lusty, with a well-seasoned tomatoey broth, and the potatoes

 were really yummy: perfectly toothsome.  Potatoes I find often dry or mealy or only good because they were fried, but these were excellent and still exhibited prime spudness.

So when my tablemate asked what I thought of the food I said "very good!"  He said it was okay, but neither of us sampled the other's repast to compare.  He also didn't feel like continuing on with dessert, although I had had my eye on both the île flottante and the tarte tatin, but I guess fortunately was saved the angst of having to decide.  I would guess that those were both things that they would be able to concoct quite successfully.  

It was nearly 4:30pm

So.  Old school French?  Check?  Ambition?  Meh.  Novelty?  Double meh.  I stand with my original association, Le Musée d'Orsay.  Better than the Gare.

                                                                               

1057 Lexington Avenue                                                                         

tel.  212-517-6400