oakapple

Yes, especially as the show is not exactly new any more. Presumably they've watched some of the earlier seasons, and should have a sense of what NOT to do. But this guy didn't seem to be the brightest bulb on the tree. The mistake is not doing a dessert, per se. Some Top Chef contestants have done terrific desserts over the years, and there actually was another dessert this episode that was just fine (it's mentioned on the Bravo blog), which they didn't have time to feature on the show. No, the mistake was doing something—anything—that he considered a "risk". In the early weeks of the season, there's almost always a chef who screws up really badly. Just don't screw up, and you're going to be alive for one more week. Later on, you need to take some chances, because the remaining chefs are all good, and you can get sent home for being merely mediocre. But in Week 1, all you need is something very safe that is prepared correctly, and you cannot lose. If you've spent the last six months working on desserts, nevertheless I'll bet your savory work is better. I mean, if it's not, then it suggests your 11 years of experience at savory didn't really matter very much. Now, this guy, we don't even know if he's put in the six months at desserts. The fact that he said "he's taking a risk" suggests, on some level, that he was stepping outside his usual comfort zone.

I have been there twice when it was two-thirds empty for the entire visit, and others have reported the same. A person of my acquaintance was offered ONLY the bar at 10:00 p.m., when the place was near empty. One would need to be awfully naive to suppose that suddenly all of those seats were going to be occupied (which, of course, they weren't). I'm sure they have busy times, as well, even if I haven't seen it that way yet.

It's not unusual to be given such a choice, when all are available. It seems to me that the Momofukus' typical level of service is so sub-standard, that when they do just the normal ordinary thing that we ought to expect in a well run restaurant, they are praised as "very nice".

Corton has always paced its reservation book, so that the kitchen wouldn't get hammered. I would be very surprised if business has suddenly dried up. Of course, I totally agree that if there has been a lot of kitchen turnover, that is no excuse for serving a meal as poor as you have described.

With this type of operation, excellence is difficult to sustain. Whatever talents Todd English may have, let's face it: in recent years he has been mostly associated with mediocrity. A year from now, will this place be special, or will it just be serving airport food?

It might be easier to find three friends, and then just reserve a table in the main dining room.

Does 5 & Diamond have a website?

Even the Times doesn't comment on every dish—only on those that the critic finds most interesting, or most supportive of his/her thesis—and NYM devotes less space to its reviews than the Times. The only McNally backlash I've sensed is in the undeniable assertion that McNally seems to be fabricating these places out of a pre-fab template. He has mined remarkable success out of remarkably few original ideas.

Although that was Sneakeater's spin (upthread), I don't think it was Sifton's. In the review, I see no evidence that he criticized the restaurant for being popular. That would indeed be a perverse criticism, but Sifton didn't do that.

Well, I don't take it as a rave for the space. He notes that McNally is working from a template, and that it "can be punishingly loud." He had various complaints about at least five dishes: Add all that up, and one star was more than justified. Remember that, in the New York Times system, one star means "good". Frank Bruni drifted away from that: most of his one-star reviews sounded "not good". His one-star review of McNally's Morandi is a perfect example. Unfortunately, it created a perception that if a restaurant got one star, there must be an awful lot wrong with it. One of Sifton's contributions has been restoring the "good" to a one-star review. The vast majority of his one-star places actually sound good. Like this one. There's nothing wrong with that.

I don't really think the location has anything to do with it. Tons of restaurants have succeeded in that general vicinity. I think your earlier comment is more to the point: the food is very well executed, but isn't any kind of game-changer. That means it's merely one of many very good, equally accessible places competing in a fierce marketplace.

That's it exactly: you think to yourself, "I've seen a million others like this." It has no intrinsic charm whatsoever.

Ditto. Leaving aside the Momofuku connection, the space is totally charmless.

Isn't this the most brilliant opening strategy ever? I can't remember a more heavily scrutinized opening that had such a long, leisurely play-in. By studiously avoiding dinner service, they keep the critics out while they polish their game. I've got to think that there are many other places that wished they had the capital cushion that would allow them to do this. Of course, that means that when they finally do start serving dinner, there will be no excuses for it being anything less than top-notch.

I was there on the 21st (two days after you) for one of the "Zagat presents" dinners with a Provencal theme, and the place was not empty at all. In fact, it was packed. The empty room you experienced may have had to do with the fact that it was a Monday. It's possible that they're not filling up on other nights, too, as I've only eaten there twice in the last year, but it didn't seem dead either time. Unfortunately, aside from special events, Allegretti is available whenever you want to go. Just look on OpenTable: any night, prime time, short notice. You name it, Allegretti can accommodate you. As for why? When it opened, Allegretti was on the fancy side. Such places can succeed (Corton, Marea), but in an increasingly casual world, there is a very limited window during which you can command the attention of the "influential diners who matter." For Allegretti, that did not happen. The restaurant toned down the ambiance, in an effort to alter the perception of formality, but once The Moment has passed, it's often hard to get people's attention again. You almost certainly can't get the critics back.

I wouldn't think of it as a Momo establishment. A copy of the staff training guide was linked recently. I can't find it on the moment, but it was quoted on Eater or Grub Street. They are trying to open a full-service restaurant this time. Even if you liked Momo in the East Village, some changes are necessary when you move to a midtown hotel.

As Top Chef challenges go, this was a pretty reasonable one: something you might actually do in real life (cooking for a first date). Now, the quickfire was totally contrived (cooking with gas station food), but they've used that exact challenge, and many like it, before. It's typical of the show. What usually happens is that the more contrived challenges come earlier in the season; later on, they just let the chefs cook. I think what made this episode boring is that these were such nice people. They might be very exciting companions in real life, but on the screen they seemed bland. There was a tiny bit of behind-the-scenes carping, but by reality TV standards it was nothing. There was no villain; there was no drama; there were no obvious screw-ups.

Actually, this strikes me as a pretty cushy gig, to which most chefs would be happy to come back. They get great PR for their restaurant(s) and for themselves, and a chance to help their favorite charity. I believe it says, in the small print, that even the "losing" chefs earn something for their charities. Unlike the regular Top Chef series, the time commitment is pretty modest, and although they aren't compensated, I'm sure their expenses are covered. Why wouldn't they want to do this?

The new Tabla menu is essentially the former Bread Bar menu.

Ed Brown is too talented a chef to remain on the sidelines for long, and I can't imagine that consulting for Jeffrey Chodorow (at Ed's Lobster Bar) is the extent of his ambitions. As the Cuozzo article noted, Eighty One was a victim of bad timing, a not-so-great location, and early perceptions that it was an "occasion place". In fact, the menu at Eighty One carried similar prices to nearby Dovetail, and the food at Eighty One was better. But Dovetail successfully created the impression that it was a "drop in anytime" kind of place.

I think you've answered your own question: they are not going to open anything that they don't have other uses for. At Per Se, we got a glass of 50-year-old Madeira. Now, I don't think they serve that to everybody...but by the same token, I don't think they opened it just for us.

Given that this is a Danny Meyer restaurant, I think there's very little doubt that they would accommodate practically any request, including your idea of splitting a wine pairing. I have never done that (or had it offered), but it seems like a very sensible idea. My g/f and I have moved away from wine pairings in the last couple of years. Even at four-star restaurants, the standard pairing is often a set of bland choices, designed (or so it seems) to be as dull and inoffensive as possible. I've sometimes found that a couple of "blow-the-doors-off" half-bottles are better. Here's another idea. If money isn't really the issue, ask the sommelier if he'll go "off-menu". Tell him you want about 750ml between the two of you, and are willing to spend up to $200—or whatever amount. He'll then ask you about your preferences, and give you a set of wines that pair well with the food and are tailored to your interests, instead of whatever the usual pairing would be. Per Se is the only restaurant I know of where that is the default offering: there are no "set pairings" at Per Se; you agree a price and go from there. But I think any four-star place will do it.

It's unanswerable. For those of us who dined there a number of times and liked it, what is there to say?

Well, it certainly cannot hurt, but for something like that it probably does not change what they would do anyway.

He's 0 for 2 at Adour, and obviously when Ducasse chooses the wrong deputy it reflects upon his judgment. Benoit is now on its second chef too (though working out well, from what I hear), and his other NYC restaurants, now closed, also had revolving doors in the kitchen. Adour, by design, was not meant to be a four-star place: I suspect they were mightily relieved when the NYT gave them three. The room is nice enough (the 4-star Lespinasse was there), but the cuisine was never scaled up to that level. If it's true, as rumored on Eater.com, that Ducasse is going to take over the Gilt space, perhaps he will try for four stars there.