North End Grill Is A Keeper

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  February 13, 2012]

Although Tabla eventually stumbled, and became the first restaurant Danny Meyer ever had to close, it's hard to argue that it was anything other than a success over most of its twelve year run.

No surprise, then, that Meyer has given Floyd Cardoz a curtain call at a big and brilliantly equipped new location, and that it's off to such a rousing start.

At Tabla, when it first opened, Cardoz made great strides in turning the mainstream New York palate onto Indian flavor accents, albeit applied to dishes composed in a western tradition (protein - duck confit, lamb chops, salmon - and vegetables).  At the Bread Bar downstairs, of course, he ran a more recognizably Indian food operation.

At North End Grill, Cardoz has veered away from anything resembling fusion - although his ingredient palette remains wide - and created a high-end seafood destination with steakhouse trappings.  Entering the huge space (bar, open kitchen with dining counter, dining room, a full block's length), I was irresistibly reminded of Colicchio & Sons, née craftsteak.  The scale, monochrome color scheme, the smart-casual crowd.  Fortunately, the food is much better, both in conception and execution.

Not that it isn't trying, at this stage, to be too many things to too many people.  Service is Meyeresque with a vengeance: beyond affable, over-the-top informative, breathlessly enthusiastic.  And the reading material!  Menu, wine-list, drinks list, Scotch list.  Yes - improbably, for what is primarily a fish joint, Scotch is the big curtain opener.  Staff are primed to sell from the list of forty or more single malts - and judging by all the customers nursing little flasks of amber liquid, they were succeeding.

I dutifully scanned the selections, and resisted the temptation to bark "What, no Ardbeg?"  But I settled on a cocktail, a refreshing Scotch Bonnet.   Not spicy, despite its name: a sweet-sour confection of malt whisky, lemon juice, Lillet and lavender honey.  With a twig of lavender in it (and shedding its strongly flavored buds).

I could as easily have leaned towards a craft beer or cider, a glass of champagne, or even a white port - a lovely aperitif.  Too much choice can sometimes be a burden.

The menu is more closely edited, although it has the inevitable raft of extra entries - in this case, egg dishes - between appetizers and mains.  Descriptions were irresistible and unavoidable ("Can I give you my spiel?" a server begged a nearby table, distraught to find that they were ready to order without hearing from her).

I knew what I wanted to, but benefited from my server explaining the cod's throats by pointing to her own winsome neck.  "It's throat, but like from a cod."  Bring them on. 

They are served meuniére - dusted with semolina flour and fried.  One reason they may not have been seen on a menu since Sloppy Louie's closed is that they are fairly gelatinous and chewy.  One reason they are making a comeback may be that, as the fishery's equivalent of offal, they surely can't be expensive wholesale.  They make for a pleasant conversation piece: the best part of the dish is the fabulously sticky veal reduction, sharpened with lime pulp and spiced with green chilis.  The kitchen might considered slapping that sauce on some scallops.

The food kicked into a higher gear with my chosen egg dish ("The chef is very excited about the egg as a protein").  Much tempted  by the poached egg with paddlefish caviar and bottarga, I couldn't resist the coddled version (runny, as expected) with peekytoe crabmeat and bacon.  This was an illustration of Cardoz's ability to layer flavors.  The crabmeat flavored and pervaded the broth.  There were plenty of slices of thick bacon.  The yolk, penetrated, burst effectively into the dish - it was a good egg - and there were some grits to earth the whole performance.

Apparently simple, actually multi-accented and textured.  Beware hot spots.

The halibut developed the theme.  This dish had four or five layers of interest, without ever tending to become confused, over-fussy or muddy.  The fish, from Nova Scotia, may not have been the best halibut I've ever eaten, but it was good enough, snowy white.  I reflected, as I ate, that I'd be happy to have Cardoz prepare this dish with Boston scrod.

The foundation is the clam broth, rich and buttery, with little nuggets of al dente clam meat.  Good enough to be found in the bottom of a bowl of clams, with no further elaboration.  This was accented definitively, but not overpoweringly, with fresh tarragon.  The fish had been grilled, skin on, then added to the broth - meaty, clean tasting.  The broth is populated with gem-like vegetables - baby turnips, carrots - and punctuated with occasional bursts of sweetness - green raisins.  Meanwhile, on top of the fish, not just a pine-nut crust, but an earthily toasted one.

This was a satisfying dish, and I am a serial orderer of meat entrées.  (There's chicken and steak for two, or duck, lamb with chickpeas, pork with beans and chorizo.)

The table to my left had such a gleeful party with a towering lemon meringue pie, that I was on the brink of following suit, when I noticed the Eccles cake.  Now the Eccles cake is a Lancashire delicacy, and by delicacy I mean something you can throw through a brick wall or use as a paperweight.  The last I ate, prepared by the distinguished British chef Fergus Henderson, had the consistency of a cannon ball.

I don't know if former Gramercy Tavern pastry chef Alexandra Ray has any Lancastrian blood, but she is responsible for easily the best Eccles cake I have ever eaten.  Light, molten in the center, stuffed with bright currents, almost a spa dish.  Perfectly garnished with one of the world's two or three best cheddars, Montgomery, imaginatively served in thin slices like Raclette rather than as a lump.  A smart end to the meal, and good to pair with a glass of Pacherenc.  Albariño and an expensive, but lush, Chassagne-Montrachet had accompanied the savory parts of the meal.

I am not surprised I haven't yet read a bad review or comment about this place.  Highly professional, already very busy, but with a soulful hand in the kitchen.  A winner.

Comments

[Lippy]

Are cod throats cod tongues under a different name? I've had those in Newfoundland and they can be terrific.

[Drcervone]

Cod throats are actually quite pricey. They spoil easily, and are are hard to come by (they are usually tossed out with the head).

I loved the place as well. Gael Greene posted a very lukewarm review today. I was there on the night she was in -- it was early and the kitchen was a bit overwhelmed. (They are very busy until about 8PM, and then things die off to a low rumble.)

I heard that the kitchen is re-tooling the whole roasting/low temp approach. They are having a hard time getting meat dishes out in a timely manner -- especially the enormous steak for 2.