[Pigging by Wilfrid: June 8, 2015]
Well it certainly has more utility in Contra. That's worth saying, and it's really hard to review the one place without mentioning the other (they're a couple of doors apart on Orchard Street).
Contra, which I reviewed as long ago as November 2013, currently offers a no choice set menu of five savory and two dessert courses at $67. The same dishes can be chosen à la carte at the bar. If you love everything chefs Fabian von Hauske and Jeremiah Stone can put on a plate, you'll be a regular.
On the other hand, of you don't thrill to appetizers of snap peas and cheese, or celeriac and pear, and wonder if you might want something other than chicken as your entrée, your visits--for the full experience at least--may be occasional at best.
Wildair gives you complete freedom, in a sort of restaurant-cum-bar environment. All seats are high-seats, either at communal dining bars stretching across the small room, or at counters at the rear or alongside and in front of the open kitchen. It's noisy, it's very cramped--and I mean very; it's a challenge for servers to move between the tables without bumping people, and they fail the challenge frequently. You also stand a high risk of being seated with your nose nine inches from a brick wall. I was lucky, I was at least on the cusp between a wall and the kitchen, so I could see what chef van Hauske was up to.
I said Wildair gives you freedom, but it's the freedom of a fairly short menu. Snacks aside, there are four small plates (the squid is small), and two slightly larger plates, plus desserts and cheese. The cooking, however, struck me as admirably precise.
I should say upfront that the other attraction of this place, which will be very significant for some diners, is the extensive and fascinating selection of organic, natural, biologique, and otherwise funky backyard wines. I am kicking myself for not photographing the list, which isn't yet online. Each wine I tried was truly diverting, even if ten years ago we'd be sending them back as "off." Domaine Mosse Moussamoussettes, a naturally sparkling pink. Partido Creus Vinel-lo, a white blend from Penedes. And the star, a superbly round, rich mouthful of Cab Franc from Saumur-Champigny, the Piak of Sebastian Bobinet. Around $12-$14 by the glass.
Precise cooking: for example, a tempura of squid, as light and crisp as you could possibly wish, dusted with fragrant spices, but more notably bedecked with really punchy, lemony basil leaves of various kinds. With it, the kind of khaki-colored dollop which makes me relive wheatgrass nightmares, but which turned out to be a highly complementary, cool basil emulsion. Dip and repeat.
The clam toast was the least successful dish I tried, simply because the Littlenecks meagrely minced on the slab of bread were not very exciting. The bread as a vehicle for sopping up the clam broth was just dandy, as was the spinach speckled with shaved lardo.
The skate may not look like a large plate--and indeed, I'd call it medium ($21), but there was no skimping on the fish. That was a hunk of skate, again very well prepared. I grew up with skate as a cheap option, from the "wet fishmonger," as we called it, or the fish'n'chip shop, so I'm a little skeptical at how it's creeping back onto some higher end menus in New York. But hey, I like it; and I like to see a few morels. The vin jaune sauce, like one I tasted at Dover a week before, lacked distinctive vin jaune flavor--even though it was being made with an interesting wine. The main flavor, butter--which of course goes with skate.
Despite the cheeses being incorrectly listed at the beginning of the menu, I finished with them. I've praised the Cowgirl Creamery Bohemian Blue before; and what a fine cheese the Pleasant Ridge Reserve is--meaty, nutty, studded with salty little crystals. Okay, the third I forgot.
If you're hungry, you'll want three plates before dessert, so think around $60 for food, although you could also graze on less while enjoying the wine. There were a number of empty seats on a weekend evening, but that's not going to last.
Finally, let me compare it also with Willow, the boutique Brooklyn restaurant from the team behind The Pines. The two places have a very similar feel and attitude. The menu at Willow is longer, slightly less expensive (rightly so, given its location), and the cooking is more adventurous and surprising. I bet a lot of readers will get to Wildair before Willow.
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