[Pigging by Wilfrid: October 5, 2007]
In fact, rather than leaves, long loops of brown rope, like tan cable-knit showering from the ceiling. Orange and gold abound too, and it does look sumptuous.
As does the crowd, at the former Park Avenue Café hotspot.
The Smith & Wollensky group must have found some spare change in their trouser cuffs, because the investment here was clearly substantial.* There is a concept; namely that the name of the restaurant will change seasonally (we've had Park Avenue Summer and Park Avenue Autumn so far) as well as the menu, and even the interior decoration. Indeed the restaurant will close every three months to be refurbished.
This also implies changing not only the restaurant's own web-site, but also a variety of other listings. For anyone who cares, you still need to search Park Avenue Summer to get a hit on City Search, although Menu Pages and Open Table were recently updated. Okay, I think we're getting the "seasonal" message here. And indeed, it's interesting to find the buzzwords of seasonality, market-driven and local being touted in front of the kind of uptown crowd one doesn't expect to find around the greenmarkets.
There's some evening dress here, there are many men in black suits - and they aren't waiters - there is plenty of jewelry. Think Le Cirque Lite. So, is it packaging, or is this an authentic effort? A little of both (note, I missed the Summer incarnation, so this was my first exposure). From entering the lobby, one is almost surprised to see the place slammed. Any place serving conventional three course meals at regular tables seems to be struggling these days, from midtown down to the Battery.
I did like the semi-circular lobby bar, where you rest your foot on a brass rail and order your table-waiting aperitif. Heavy emphasis on toney whiskeys here, but cocktails were well made. (Credit also for adhering to the increasingly rare policy of transferring bar charges to dinner check.)
In addition to the carte, a tiny menu listed some specials, all on a mushroom theme (although filet mignon with mushrooms didn't display inventiveness at an Iron Chef level). I flung myself into the spirit of things by ordering a haystack.
That would be the "Autumn Haystack" salad. Other fall classics among the appetizers include figs wrapped in prosciutto and Plymouth Rock oysters. Well, there is an "r" in the month.
The salad incorporated the evening's first delivery of pomegranate seeds. They add a pleasant, sharp accent to a dish, and we would see more of them before the night was over. I would describe the salad as more of a "slaw", and it was a pretty good slaw, appropriately acidic. I am not sure how much slaw I really want to eat as an appetizer, though - I'd have appreciated some contrasting textures. The shrimp, I'm afraid, didn't know they were supposed to be "Crispy" or had forgotten. They were dull, bready, and fast-foodish.
I tasted the sautéed foie gras, the provenance of which the menu didn't reveal. It was neatly prepared, with a contrasting garnish of roast apricots. I understand panzanella to be a bread salad; here it was the name they gave to the pleasant strips of brioche which came, not unusually, with the foie. The bread basket features home-made items; the honey/sweet onions rolls were good; and it comes with butter and a DiPalo-sourced EVOO, Fortuna.
The menu makes such a fuss about the quail, that I shall have to quote: "Our wild quail was hunted [don't worry, there's more than one quail] by Mark MacNamara in the heart of the Hudson Valley". Now, we might be tempted to imagine Mr MacNamara setting forth Fudd-like, twelve-bore under his arm, to blow the feathers off a few small birds. Unlikely, though, since domestic shot game can't be sold in New York restaurants. (I defer here to Frankula of the Times: "The confluence of reasons involves a Federal wildlife conservation law from more than a half century ago and regulations for the inspection of meat that’s going to be sold commercially." learned cite)
Not to worry, though. Mr MacNamara, in addition to running (I think ) two farms in the state also claims expertise in various trapping techniques, so I suppose the restraint of quail posed no great challenge. In any case, the quail were appetizing: hefty, juicy critters, quince-glazed and suitably grill-charred, and served with quinoa, that interestingly textured grain. A good dish, which hardly needs its fanfare.
Whether the venison shared the provenance of the quail, I cannot say. The kitchen boldly interpreted medium rare to mean a thoroughly cooked crust on the chops, leaving them uncooked and bloody in the center. Happily, I like to see a little blood on the plate. The venison was predictably mildly flavored, as local New York venison generally is, but nice enough. Pomegranate seeds were in generous attendance again.
Turning to the dessert menu, the waiter shook me off like an anxious pitcher when I called for the "special" - some sort of sweet concoction of mushrooms and sherry. I took him seriously, and went for the figs instead. Pastry chef Richard Leach is sending out some old school architectural plates - many components, gracefully designed, and well targeted, I think, to the restaurant's market. Not being a big sweet eater, I found them a little overwhelming.
The figs, for example, come with good, sharp fig sorbet, but also with a full serving of goat cheesecake. This was fine cheesecake, but it was like the second pudding on the plate (you only see its rear elevation in the shot - it was a full wedge).
I also tried the cranberry and almond tart on a cranberry coulis. I like almonds, and the flavor reminded me of a traditional "marzipan". Again, it had a partner: almond ice cream with a toasted almond topping. The restaurant doesn't offer cheese.
A boldly marked up '96 Chateau d'Amailhac (3x retail), still sternly tannic on first tasting, eventually opened up and went well with the venison and quail. The wine list is likely to appeal to drinkers of American vintages.
Chef Craig Koketsu, also chef at Quality Meats, is sending out reliable, correctly prepared food, a little weighed down by the strenuous seasonality theme. Not for the adventurous, particularly, but if you feel like brushing your hair, putting on a clean shirt, and sitting up at a proper table for a couple of hours, you could do much worse.
Wardrobe note for gentlemen: if you wish to blend in with the crowd, black suit, dark tie, highly polished black shoes. If you wish to blend in with the decor, brown camouflage. I wore a tan jacket and brown plaid pants, brown nu-buc lace-ups, and a startling lime-green linen shirt. No tie.
The web-site is concealed behind this map of Newfoundland (the wine-list pdf doesn't seem to be loaded).
*It's now owned by the Fourth Wall Restaurants.
