[Pigging by Wilfrid: December 1, 2014]
Too much to eat at M.Wells Steakhouse the same week as Thanksgiving. I raised the white flag when dessert was served, telling our server it was the knockout blow.
But it was worth the punishment, because, after all, percebes, one of the world's fascinating foods. And fish eggs, and game, and cocktails, and blood sausage.
So why did it take me a year to get here? Let's not rake over the coals of the original M.Wells, the curious venture by chef Hugue DuFour and partner Sara Obraitis; it attracted generous praise for over-the-top cooking (oysters, foie gras, bone marrow, veal brains), but not so much for the setting or service. Serving dinner only three times a week, and with reputed hour-long lines, I admit I could find no use for it.
The so-called Steakhouse which is not the jewel in the DuFour/Obraitis crown (they also run the Dinette restaurant inside nearby MoMA PS1) is a different beast entirely. Popular--but reservable--it serves dinner six days a week; and the service, I might as well mention, is highly polished and professional.
But it was the percebes which finally brought me here. After all, looking at the menu online, it seemed to be tricky to put a dinner together. On the one hand, there are surprisingly few people willing to share a pig's head with me; on the other, I maybe spend $100 plus on steak at a restaurant once every couple of years, and M.Wells just wasn't topping my list of places to do that.
But like I said, percebes. Or goose barnacles. Maybe other people have seen these elsewhere in Manhattan; I haven't, and the mere thought of them transports me to Barcelona. So I went.
It was an early reservation, but the room fills fast--and what a very charming room it is, for a converted garage on a dark street to nowhere (admittedly now also occupied by a luxury condo block). The walls are warm red, there's flock wallpaper on the ceiling of all places; you can see cooks grilling (or assassinating trout) in the open kitchen; and the bar looks very invited.
Whatever rock'n'roll rep the former M.Wells had, captains here wear suits, servers wear waistcoats, and it's a grown-up dining experience. As a grown-up, I started with a cocktail, a very well made Vancouver (very like a Martinez, but featuring Benedictine rather than Maraschino). Bread service, in a little cloth bag) was warm and delicious. One of the rolls (ripped to pieces before I could point a camera) was pretzel-ish, and there was a tiny jug of serious mustard (spicy, not sweet) to go with it.
The raw bar is extensive, featuring razor clams and mussels escabeche, as well as oysters, clams, lobster. One table close by got the "Dog Bowl," a seventy buck sampler which kept them busy a while.
Goose barnacles, then, served with brown butter. These were from Spain, although the captain told me that harvesting them up in British Columbia had recently been permitted. Maybe we'll see more of them in the States. Part of the attraction is the curious, jewel-like appearance; but they're good eating too--a bit like razor clams, but creamy, and almost a little nutty. Twist, pull of the sleeve, dip and slurp.
And leave the debris. Fifteen dollars for about ten of them, which didn't seem excessive--even if the top Spanish and Catalunyan restaurants are keeping the fat ones for themselves.
Meanwhile, Solomon Gundy, which is pickled herring up in Canada: in M.Wells' dish, we have small pieces of pickled smelt, playing a supporting role--a vinegary garnish to two rich slices of waffle (you can see the waffle maker over by the raw bar), slathered with golden trout eggs. Some sour cream too; I'm guessing house-made, because it tastes much better than what comes in tubs from the supermarket.
I loved the smelts, which reminded me of the rollmop herrings I ate growing up in England (and which you can find a Russ and Daughters). I appreciated the tons of fresh dill too. Despite the lavishness, the key word for this plate was balance. Acidity, sweetness, richness, tartness, all neatly supporting each other.
The Solomon Gundy was a share-size appetizer, with those two big hunks of waffle. The venison T-bone was share size too, especially once sides were factored in. Indeed, the sheer heft of portions here means the food is much less expensive than it looks. The venison was $45, but anything on the menu that price and up--like the tall stack of pork chops, or indeed the pig's head--is going to be a challenge for any individual diner.
It came topped with a fruit and juniper sauce, and with a trompe l'oeil garnish of turned apples and potatoes--you could tell which was which only be applying gentle fork pressure. I didn't really need the cup of béarnaise sauce on the side, nice though it was. The venison was distinctly on the rare side of medium rare, which meant some chewy fringes, although for the most part it was tender and sufficiently funky.
I was drinking, by the way, a light red from Maremma by this point.
My dining companion pleaded ignorance of poutine, so we had some (although my eye had been on the pommes aligot). By poutine standards, this was restrained--mildly seasoned, for which I was thankful, with real cheese curds and a light gravy. We took some home.
We also failed to finish the blood sausage, which I was obliged to order out of curiosity. Really the size of another entrée (with a potato side, it would make an ample meal), this sausage tasted of its main ingredient (as it should), and unlike many boudins noirs found in New York it was firm, not mushy, and cooked crisp. A good specimen.
Which brings me to the ultimate defeat at the hands at the hands, indeed of an ultimate chocolate "crownie." That's what I think it was called, anyway.
Layers of chocolate chip cookie, chocolate brownie, and tonka bean ganache. I was done after two or three bites. You look for relief from the intensity of the chocolate, and don't find it anywhere--not even in the sweet cream topping. Way too intense for me, but there are people who'll love it.
While M.Wells looks like--and could easily be--an expensive treat, I was impressed by the total for food: about $110 for two, and with some definite over-ordering. And as for drinks, how often do you find good cocktails at $12, and wines by the glass at a similar price? These days, $14 seems to be the bottom line. Go, enjoy, and if you must have the $160 tomahawk steak with a vintage Bordeaux, don't come running to me.
The website is so uninformative, a link would seem pointless.
Comments