at the sign of The Pink Pig

Little P.P. In A Prospect of Flowers: At Ai Fiori

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  March 28, 2011]

Lost in a dream, lost among the buttercups.  So much poetry and so many back stories, we may never get around to talking about the food.

With occasional exceptions (Shang, SHO Shaun Hergatt), I try to review restaurants rather than restaurant reviews. In the case of newer restaurants, I even try to avoid reading other reviews before writing my own.  But the reception of Michael White's non-Italian project tells us a few things about this city's critics.

Otterness, Parlá, Pollock, Etc.: Around the Galleries

[New York Peasant by Wilfrid:  March 28, 2011]

The good news is that my remarks on Tom Otterness's Marlborough Gallery show do not come too late.  It was set to close on March 26, but has been extended through April 7, according to the gallery's website.  Hurry to see its edgy delights.

The delights are obvious; the edge perhaps more apparent than in his previous works.

Continue reading for Pollock, Kelly, Malevich and Parlá.

Raoul's And The Follies: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  March 28, 2011]

Continuing a welcome stretch at home in late March 2001.  Home then was still a ground floor apartment in the Gramercy neighborhood, a little-used patio out back, a real fireplace, and a lethal spiral staircase to a sort of loft bedroom.  Nice place, and especially a nice kitchen; plenty of space, plenty of marble.

A First Look At Saro Bistro

[Free stuff by Wilfrid:  March 21, 2011]

Long time readers will know this blog has a soft spot for Tides, the vanished seafood restaurant on Suffolk Street.  An interview with the owners was the first piece published here - nearly four years ago (wow).

The latest project in that small space, Saro Bistro, and I am pleased to report a fresh look, a fresh start, and a menu worthy of investigation.

Peacefully Towards Spring: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  March 21, 2011]

The events of the past week or so reminded me ruefully that in Spring of 2001, New York was booming, much of the western world considered itself comfortably prosperous, and we were locally at peace.  Within six months, so much would change.  Oblivious, of course, I spent the week after a pair of quick London trips just bumbling around.

The Mysteries Of Ruinart; At Burke's Kitchen

[Free stuff by Wilfrid:  March 14, 2011]

Even a very last minute invitation to meet the president of Maison Ruinart and sip some of his bubbly could hardly be refused.  I accepted almost without glancing at the location.

Turned out to be at David Burke's latest place at the James Hotel, SoHo.  And so, a good tour of the David burke's Kitchen menu too.

Back And Forth: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  March 14, 2011]

Devoted readers will recall that I celebrated my birthday ten years ago with an abrupt round-trip, New York-London.  Left on Wednesday morning, got back Friday night.  And guess what?  The following Monday I was off again - this time for some kind of celebratory dinner with clients.  No, the heavy vellum pages of my journal are not laden with details of business and commerce - I wanted to remember fun only; and that includes eating.

Happy Birthday Pig!

Yeah, couple of days ago.

A chocolate pig with an applewood smoked bacon filling.  And a copy of The England's Dreaming Tapes - over 700 pages of old punks reminiscing.  Looks like a party to me.

John Ashbery Dusts Off His French

[The Cunning Tower by Kim Davis:  March 8, 2011]

Truly there are only a handful of poets writing in English whose each book publication is an event.  I won't provide a list, as lists are mainly good for arguing about, but if you start counting them on your fingers you will find that they are to novelists what duckbilled platypi are to ducks.  Very rare.  There's no serious argument, however, that John Ashbery is one of them.

Aldea: Still Doing It

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  March 1, 2011]

The most acclaimed opening of 2009, I suppose, this sleek, modern American-Portuguese dining room and counter on a dull block in the 20s.  The two secrets to its success, fair pricing and meticulous attention to detail from a talented chef.

George Mendes is still in the front line, bending over the grill, squeezing the scallops, inspecting every plate before it leaves the kitchen.  This is about as close to a warranty of consistency you are likely to find.  And the check for food of this quality remains moderate.