[Pigging by Wilfrid: February 4, 2016]
Or: spherification, that's the name of the game. And what a shocking statement of intent too. An East Village tapas bar which sends out an homage to Ferran Adrià to start a meal risks falling flat on its face. That's not what happens at Nai.
But to fully understand what's going on in this semi-basement space on First Avenue, and what's planned for upstairs, we need to start with a little history.
Somewhere along the way (2010, I now know), the named changed to Nai (Galician for "mother," I now know), but no other change was detectable. Same decor, it seemed, similar menu, same crowds at night. I never gave it a second thought. I even went in and drank at the bar without calling for a menu. But a quiet, slow, patient revolution was going on.
Chef owner Ruben Rodriguez, Spanish born, was creating a menu based on what his mother (also a chef) had taught him about Galician tapas. And he was traveling and learning about the modern tapas revolution. Now he's launching it. I was invited to dine as a guest at the restaurant--and let's be honest: I would otherwise have remained in ignorance about this place. I was so bowled over that I went back (unannounced and unrecognized) and spent my own dime.
Right now, there are two restaurants squeezed into one. By which I mean Nai continues to offer a party atmosphere--especially those nights when there's a flamenco floor show (seriously, if you're going for the food, skip Saturday evening). It still offers classic tapas too. Indeed, the main space seems largely unchanged even when you enter, apart from some better art work. And it's popular enough that the casual tapas space will be extended upstairs in a few months time.
But there's some serious cooking going on too, and Rodriguez will be segregating the front part of the upper floor to create a separate tasting area with modern design, reflecting the modernist aesthetics of parts of the menu. Right now, the classic and the creative are jumbled together: fortunately, they're both good.
The famous olive spheres are created using a now widely published molecular gastronomy technique. Credit here not just for being able to reproduce the effect (liquid olive inside a taut skin, if you're unfamiliar), but for finding the right, really tasty olives. Flavor explosion.
A selection of good olives centers the first classic offering, a table of velvety jamón ibérico. The menu also lists of boards of cheeses and mixed embutidos.
Back to fantasy with the curiously named "MiniAirbags Rellenas" [sic]. Fragile pastry puffs pumped with Manchego foam, a sharp sliver of manchego topping them.
Another way with foam, or rather aire de limón, floating over some good oysters. The website menu has been updated, but some of the dishes here aren't on it yet. Update: the restaurant says everything here is available, but they may be out of some dishes some nights).
Then the sensational dish which made me resolve immediately to re-visit. It may not look like anything--some kind of roulade of fish with a bunch of asparagus on top. But wow. Look, it was back in 2013 that Paul Liebrandt managed to stun me at The Elm with his take on fish and chips. This dish stunned me in a similar way.
Tostada de lubina. The could be just Chilean sea bass on some kind of toast. Here the "toast" element is really a second skin, reconstituted from baguette, wrapped around perfectly cooked fish, crackling against the teeth like a really fine fried fish batter. Bread and batter all at once. There's an orange emulsion under the fish, a balsamic reduction on top, and the asparagus seemed unnecessary: it provides an extra visual element, I suppose. A terrific dish. (And yes, it's on the regular menu.)
And then the chef plays a straight bat (a cricket term, don't worry) and sends out simple but faultless gambas al ajillo. Time for an important qualification. This place isn't Blanca or Brooklyn Fare. This isn't $200 a head. Prices start around $6 for tapas, $11 for raciones (a tapa of these shrimp: $9). I say this because someone will tell me these aren't the best shrimp in town; and indeed you can get carabineros at Lupulo for $13 a piece. But within the constraints of price and market, you can't do garlic shrimp much better: the garlic sweet, not singed; the oil correct; the shrimp cooked exactly right.
Visual flamboyance was evident in a stuffed avocado presentation. This was almost too pretty, like some kind of buffet effort--and after all, anyone can de-stone an avocado and stuff it with crabmeat. But honestly, it was very, very good. Creamy crab filling helped out with corn, slippery slices of avocado, and--smart touch--some dried Serrano ham crumbled on top. I think it was a spicy (chipotle?) mayo underneath, but I'm not sure.
The main event paused for a palate cleanser: watermelon infused with sangria--another smart touch, fresh mint. Which seems a good opportunity to mention some classics I stowed away on a different evening.
Tortilla española should be a benchmark for any place claiming to serve Spanish tapas. Unusually, this was freshly prepared in an individual serving rather than sliced from a pre-made cake kept under glass. That does mean the order is racion-sized; you can't get just a wedge. It does mean it's moist and fluffy. It's light on potato too, which believe me is okay. And you can take some home for breakfast.
Sardines are not an expensive agreement, which means you can serve good ones if you know what you're doing. These were brawny, very meaty. And just because they're served over bread doesn't mean you can ignore the bones. Be a grown up and deal with them. The bread is there to sop up the tasty juices (that's a strip of pimento decorating the fish).
Then snails, correctly accommodated in garlic butter. Care in the cooking: these are not just chewy black nuggets; they're actually--unusually--slightly undercooked, giving them a texture more like cooked oysters than pellets of earth.
Back to the progression of dishes at my first dinner, and the croquetas de jamón were no more than good. I was expecting more by this stage, but they were a little gummy, as croquetas often are.
They provided a respite before more drama, and a sharp change in flavor focus. Pollo ahumado hardly prepares you for a steaming dome enclosing skewered chicken thighs, first smoked, then cooked sous vide.
There's a sweetish Asian glaze on these, and chef Rodriguez confesses to some fusion cooking here. The smoked meat makes the dish.
I managed to get my fork into a vegetarian option; great presentation here. Crisply cooked brussel sprouts in a mustard aioli, topped with thin slices of apple. The regular menu version of this also features diced pork belly.
Speaking of which, a pork belly main event was next, and the garnishes were all on point. A refreshing carrot cream, crunchy yuca chips, candied pecans. My reservation here was about the meat, which was almost too soft. I confirmed with chef Rodriguez that it was also a sous vide preparation--something I'm not sure aids an ingredient already as fatty and tender. But the ensemble of elements made this dish work.
I filled up on baby back ribs and little charred pimiento peppers. This is usually served with Manchego fries, but floating around the table were cazuelas of diced potatoes in a rich Cabrales sauce. These struck me as an important invention, and they really need to make it to the menu. Okay, I ate too many of them.
The final savory burst on the guest tasting was one of those wonderful things you just have to cram in your mouth as best you can. It's not going to be tidy. Toast topped with chorizo, piquillo peppers, melted Manchego and a fried quail's egg. I could have eaten three of these, if it hadn't been the fourteenth course.
My second dinner closed with a variation on the Catalunyan standard patos con peras. Juicy slices of duck breast, cooked to medium for once (I am grateful), and topped with stripily caramelized slices of apple. (I was comped a glass of excellent Moscatel to finish.)
Not that there aren't pears in the kitchen. A pre-dessert flight of fancy in the long menu was cotton candy. I don't like cotton candy. This I liked because it tasted of fresh pears. And was that kind of color too.
Finally, churros. And look: he puts the hot chocolate inside them. Simple and good as that.
I have a history of skepticism about tapas in New York. You can't pay New York leases by serving inexpensive bar snacks. Tapas have to be turned into a meal here, and the results are often overwrought, over-fussy. I've praised Donostia recently (over on Avenue B). Like nearby Maiden Lane, it's emphasis is on conservas (quality canned fish) and pre-prepped finger foods) It also has an amazing list of sherries, cavas, and vermuts--which Nai, let's be clear, doesn't. The Nai experience is quite different, with an emphasis on food cooked to order (sometimes you have to wait). Beverages are honest: there's a good Albariño, an honestly hearty Jumilla (Altos de Luzon).
If chef Rodriguez was just doing a standard tapas menu as well as he is (and at these prices) it would be cause for celebration. But he's a double threat, and I can't wait to see what happens next.
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