[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: March 24, 2014]
Still under the weather, back in March 2004, at least one day was given over to chicken soup (plus a washed rind cheese called Fournols, with some slices of marbled rye).
But I made it to a couple of restaurants somehow: the original BLT, and the tiny Prune.
BLT Steak, of course, was where the talented Laurent Tourondel turned up after the abrupt--and much regretted--closure of his UES fine dining restaurant Cello. Fish had been the focus of Cello, so I think there was a general air of surprise that he should follow up with a steakhouse: less surprise that it was done so well.
A party of us dined there, amidst a blizzard of bottles, some brought by us, some selected by estimable sommelier Fred Dexheimer. I only wish my diary held a record of what was opened. As for food, I started with the restaurants signature popovers, huge and cheese-scented, and followed with steak tartare, frites, then some hanger steak with Béarnaise sauce. The restaurant took vegetables seriously, and we dived into hen of the woods mushrooms and brussel sprouts as well as onion rings.
BLT Steak, of course, spawned a vast, nationwide empire of steak, fish, and burger joints: Tourondel himself eventually withdrew, opening some more tersely named LT burger restaurants, and overseeing steaks at the Arlington Club.
No such historical complexity at Prune, which has been a chef's restaurant from day one, owned, run, and memorably written about, by Gabrielle Hamilton. Over the years, Prune has scored some bullseyes, with dishes like the acclaimed monkfish liver, and its ever-popular brunch. For myself, I've consistently found dishes wandering in an acidic, vinegary direction--which is surely to the chef's taste; not so much to mine.
For example, the centerpiece of a dinner there ten years ago was rabbit in vinegar sauce. How can one complain is such a dish is vinegary? Lamb's tongue and octopus were curiously combined, and served with a lemony-acid gremolata. Better were the crisp sweetbreads with bacon.
Quince charlotte to finish, with crème Anglaise. Bonny Doon wines with meal; first the rosy Vin Gris de Cigare, then a Vin de Glacière with dessert.
The week ended with vegetarian entertainment at Counter--the space on First Avenue now containing Empellon Cocina. Not a superlative meal, but the cape cod was a convincing imitation of white fish, and came with comofrting fries and coleslaw. The vegetable strudel with mushroom sauce was not bad too.
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