oakapple

This is now quite common at higher-end restaurants. Your doggy bag is at the coat-check stand.

Even by NYC standards, $20 for a martini is high. There aren't many venues that could get away with it. But this may be one of them.

Not worth it, IMO. For the money, you could do Nobu ← Nobu is more expensive and a lot harder to get into.

If the neighborhood isn't too far away, just pop upstairs and grab a menu. They're available to take with you right outside, and you don't even have to go in and ask for it.

I forgot Frank's. I have eaten there, actually. I must have blocked it out of my memory, because it was rather unimpressive. Like Old Homestead, Frank's is a Meatpacking restaurant that pre-dates the neighborhood's current vibe. Except it's not as good as the Old Homestead. Also, its 16th Street location is technically Chelsea.

The Meatpacking District is surprisingly light on the commodity it’s named for: red meat. There’s the Old Homestead, which has been in the nighborhood since the streets were lined with prostitutes, and Craftsteak, which technically is in Chelsea. That leaves the new STK (“ess-tee-kay”) as the only Meatpacking District steakhouse that actually feels like the neighborhood. A look at the website will have you quickly doubting whether STK is at all serious about, you know, steak. The splash animation begins with the word “SCENE” in white letters on a fucsia background. The word “STEAK” fades in and out; then “SEAFOOD”; then “SALAD.” On the main page: "The bustling bar scene is the centerpiece, the menu is inspired, the DJ creates the sexy vibe and the atmosphere is relaxed." Party rooms are called “Lillie St. Cyr,” “Do May,” “Tempest Storm” and “Candy Barr.” The design renderings suggest a restaurant with everything but steak on its mind. They feature lithe twenty-somethings in short skirts, in what appears to be a moody nightclub setting. From the pictures, it’s not even clear that there’s any actual dining tables. The opening invite does nothing to dispel this impression. It shows a leggy model in a red micro-dress, from behind, holding a cleaver and a steak on a meathook. The caption reads, “Not your daddy’s steakhouse.” For all that, STK’s menu offers much to be thankful for. Steaks come in three categories: small ($18–26), medium ($29–59) and large ($49–74). It’s a welcome change from the typical steakhouse, where your choices are limited to large and humungous. There’s also an ample selection of non-steak entrées ($24–46). By far the most expensive of these is a funky-sounding dish called Surf, Turf & Earth, which includes tuna, black truffles, and foie gras. Salads ($10–18) and appetizers ($11–20) include most of the usual suspects, but foie gras french toast ($20) and shrimp rice krispy’s ($14) sure seem worth a look. I ordered the bone-in rib steak ($36). It had a strong flavor and was cooked perfectly to the medium rare I’d requested. If it wasn’t the best rib-eye I’ve had, it was certainly superior to the one I had at Porter House NY last week. You can choose from among six steak sauces, such as salsa verde and blue butter, but I chose the house STK Sauce, which added a commendable bit of spice to an already good steak. Although listed in the menu’s “medium” section, at 24 oz. this rib-eye is an impressive hunk of meat. You had better be hungry if you order the Cowboy Rib-Steak (36 oz., $49). The hefty steak knife, by the way, is one of the more impressive specimens I’ve seen. “Be careful,” the server said as he dropped it off. Side dishes ($9) include many of the usual suspects, but Parmesan Truffle Fries were intriguing enough to be worth a look. They came stacked like lincoln logs, with each fry about half-an-inch square, and about four inches long. I thought perhaps they’d be better if they weren’t quite as thick, but I suspect they’ll be a hit with many diners. The wine and liquor list is very reasonably priced, with an ample number of bottles under $50. A glass of 10-year tawny port was only $10. I would normally end my review here, but I want to report on the drama that took place a couple of tables away. A married couple that looked about twenty years too old for the restaurant had both ordered the sirloin ($38). They asked to speak to a manager. “This is the worst steak I’ve had in my life,” the man said. His wife concurred. They practically shoved their plates in the manager’s face, declined her offer to re-do the steaks or send out something else, and asked for the check. I assumed that was the end of it, but a few minutes later out came the chef, Todd Mark Miller. He introduced himself, explained that he was “new to the project,” and did all but get down on bended knee and beg the couple to allow him to re-do their steaks. Miller also offered to comp a foie gras appetizer, which the couple would not accept. But they did finally agree to accept new steaks, which Miller said he would cook himself. A short while later, out came Miller with a parade of busboys, with two freshly cooked sirloins (which he again reminded them he cooked himself) and extra side dishes. Miller insisted on waiting till the couple had tasted the steaks, to ensure they were done correctly. For the first time, the man smiled and nodded his head. His satisfaction must have been sincere, because he did finish the steak, and his wife left only a little behind. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a chef do more personally to try to please two difficult customers. It impressed me even more because—well, it seems indelicate to say so, but this couple seemed so out-of-place in the neighborhood. They could tell all their friends to avoid STK, and it wouldn’t really make a difference, insofar as the management’s intended demographic is concerned. But the restaurant was determined to make it right, when they could just as easily have given the couple their check, and forgotten about them. As the publicity photos suggest, STK does have an unusually large bar space, but there are also two dining rooms and an upper level with four private rooms and a private cocktail area. A rooftop café with a separate menu will open next summer. The rock music sound track is not unreasonably loud. The clientele is generally young. The two women at the table next to me, both about 30, each ordered a blue iceberg lettuce salad and steaks from the “small” portion of the menu. They’re the kind of diners who will love STK, but probably wouldn’t choose a conventional steakhouse. If my dining experience wasn’t transcendent, it was perfectly solid. Much more of the menu looks to be worth exploring. The scenery is easy on the eyes, and the service is just fine. I suspect I will return.

There are a ton of them. An example is Jarnac (W. 12th & Greenwich). Their website even says, "QUINTESSENTIAL NEIGHBORHOOD BISTRO."

All that means is they're matching what the other top steakhouses do.

It's to be expected that restaurants will fit into their surroundings. Also, many of the buildings in that area are landmarked, and there are probably limits on what you can do with them. None of us, I trust, would call Babbo a "neighborhood restaurant," but it has a Village-y feel to it. Most NYC neighborhoods are chock-full of restaurants more formal than a diner, that cater mainly to the residents or business of that neighborhood. Heck, the Upper East Side has practically one of these on every block.

Psilakis is still listed as chef/owner at Onera. Is he splitting time between the two?

Not by mine. Celebrity chef? Michelin star? On the neighborhood–destination continuum, it is more of a destination.

At either restaurant, prices are at a level where one should expect polished service. I think Babbo gets away with some slips, because of its reputation. Mind you, I like Babbo, but I don't hesitate to call a spade a spade. These are both fairly expensive restaurants, and service should be judged accordingly.By the way, the $49 menu that Bryan described is not a tasting menu; it's a four-course prix fixe, and available Sundays only. I agree. I didn't have any issue with the room. This is true of any neighborhood that is not yet established as a dining destination. People used to say that the Lower East Side was out-of-the-way. I suspect they said that about TriBeCa when places like Montrachet and Chanterelle first arrived.

I don't know how long it takes a restaurant to get its service polished. These days, the critics don't wait long to start visiting. Frank Bruni's first published piece on L'Atelier de Joel Rubuchon — albeit a blog entry — actually came out while the restaurant was still in its soft opening. However, I think that Porter House has the potential to be more critic-proof than V Steakhouse. I'm not predicting a rating, but I don't think one star would be a killer, the way it was for V.

It used to be that tasting menus were the sole province of high-end restaurants, but nowadays you see them even in "mid-range" places.

Prices were in the traditional steakhouse range. For instance, the ribeye was $36, I think the New York Strip was $39, and the porterhouse $78 for two. Those prices are perfectly in-line for a NY steakhouse.Just a comparison: At BLT Steak, which is obviously in the haute steakhouse genre, the NY Strip is $42, the ribeye $45, and the porterhouse $79. But BLT's side dishes are a dollar or two lower.

My friend and I visited Porter House on Friday night. The restaurant was busy. One one side of our table was a family of seven celebrating a birthday. On the other was a family of three, including a young child, out for a casual dinner. Neither one would have chosen Sparks or Peter Luger. While Porter House is far more conventional looking than V Steakhouse was, it has an unassuming atmosphere that will appeal to families, couples, or business patrons alike. The menu, however, is not all that creative. There are a few more seafood entrées than you see at some steakhouses, but for style points it has nothing on BLT Steak or Quality Meats. I ordered the smoked salmon to start, my friend the clams casino—both standard steakhouse dishes. The salmon came with a clever garnish of tomato, avocado and chickpeas. My friend is partial to the ribeye ($36), so we both had that. It was served off the bone, and although cooked to the correct temperature and nicely charred, the marbling was uneven. Overall, it was well off the pace of the city’s better ribeye steaks. Side dishes were priced mostly at $9. I enjoyed creamed spinach with bacon, but my friend thought that french fries had been left under a heat lamp for too long. Service was not unfriendly, but has a long way to go. Food took a long time to come out. At the table of seven next to us, one diner got his steak long after everyone else. Two side dishes came out (with profuse apologies) after the meal was almost concluded. At our table, the lemon from my friend’s appetizer course was left behind after the other plates had been cleared. The spinach came without a serving spoon. Mid-way through the meal, our waiter just disappeared for about half an hour. The wine list is mostly American. It is about as expensive as you’d expect for this kind of restaurant. We were able to find a red that pleased us for around $60, in a peculiar category called “Interesting.” I didn’t know there was a grape by that name. I think Porter House will do well, as its informality serves a definite need. Judging by the crowds, it has already caught on. But judged in the cold light of day, Porter House is not the creative tour de force of a BLT Steak or BLT Prime, and as a classic steakhouse it’s not preferable to either Wolfgang’s or Strip House.

A friend and I visited Compass last night. The $35 prix fixe is one of the better deals in town. The amuse bouche was a small soup. The appetizer was a Butternut Squash Velouté with brown butter. After it arrived, a server sprinkled a pixie dust of pumpernickel, apples and parsnips into the soup. Up next was the Pistachio-crusted duck, with roasted endive and carrot emulsion. Both first-rate. The dessert (yogurt panna cotta) was unmemorable. As always, there were petits-fours after dinner and a small coffee cake to take home. They do recommend wines by the glass to go with each course—perfectly respectable choices, varying from $9–14 per glass. We'd already had a good deal to drink before dinner, so we just had one glass with the main course. The menu on the website is up-to-date.

I think it also explains what Grimes is saying.Most restaurants "fit" their neighborhood; or at least, they're trying to. WD-50 has a Lower East Side "feel" to it. Plop Per Se into the Lower East Side, and it would be almost absurd. Even the much-denigrated Meatpacking restaurants, whether you like them or not, feel like they belong there. "Neighborhood restaurant" — meaning "suitable for the neighborhood" — is a redundant definition. Restaurants that are unsuited to their neighborhoods usually don't last long. It's pretty easy to do your own search on the Times site and see how various writers have used the term. I think it's just overwhelmingly obvious that the phrase generally applies to lower and occasionally mid-tier restaurants that derive most of their business from people who are already in the neighborhood for some other reason. Restaurants can morph over time. Perhaps Blue Hill was originally intended to be just a West Village neighborhood place. It's pretty obvious that it has become a destination. It's also pretty obvious that Perry St, with all the hoopla that attended it, was meant to be a destination all along. While I think of "destination" and "neighborhood" restaurants as opposite ends of a scale, there's a middle ground. Landmarc is an obvious example. Its no-reservations policy and comfort-food menu are clearly designed to appeal to TriBeCa mommies with strollers, but it's important enough (particularly the innovative wine program) to draw diners from elsewhere. But I don't think there are many "Landmarcs" out there.

There are two kinds of steakhouse in New York. There is the traditional steakhouse, following a model you can predict in your sleep. In this category are Peter Luger, Wolfgang's, Sparks, Bobby Van's, Del Frisco, Old Homestead, Mark Joseph, and dozens of others. Of course, there are variations between them, but 80% of the menu is totally predictable, and the only question is how well it has been executed. In the second place, there is the haute steakhouses—following the model part-way, but also adding significant original touches. In jest, I also call them the "chick-friendly steakhouses." In this category are BLT Steak, BLT Prime, Craftsteak, Dylan Prime, Quality Meats, and STK. Mayby I missed one or two, but there aren't very many more of these. The late V Steakhouse, which Porter House replaced, was clearly in this space. Bond Girl's review seemed to place Porter House very much in the second category; cchen's review in the former. I think the latter is what the restaurant is aiming for.

I think the best meal I've had this year was the tasting menu at Country. I've not been to The Modern yet, although it's at the top of my list of places I want to try.

The thing about a porterhouse, and indeed most steaks, is that there's not a whole lot of creativity. If Porter House is making the porterhouse about as well as the other top steakhouses, then the restaurant is doing its job—at least as far as that dish is concerned.By the way, if you can do that at home, I am very impressed. The appeal of the best steakhouses is that you can't do it at home. Most home kitchens don't have the aging facilities or the special-purpose broiler that the steakhouses have.

Anyone care to make a few predictions? Here are mine: 1) There will be no promotions or demotions at the 3* level 2) There will be no demotions at the 2* level, but at least one promotion. 3) There will be at least one demotion at the 1* level, not counting closed restaurants. Jewel Bako and Spotted Pig are at risk. Both expanded in the last year, and several reviews have suggested that quality may have suffered. 4) At least one restaurant that appeared unstarred in the 2006 guide will be promoted. Union Square Café and Chanterelle are my best guesses. 5) Among new restaurants that might get starred, Perry St and Country are my best guesses.

Frank Bruni did address that question in his blog.Part of his explanation makes perfect sense: But that criterion doesn't really explain why he re-reviewed The Red Cat. All he says is that the original rating (*) seemed to be wrong, and was worth upgrading. I thought that the Red Cat re-review was a questionable use of space, but who's to say? Bruni admits that there are probably many restaurants that would get a different rating if they were re-reviewed, and most of them can't be.One of the former critics—I think it was Reichl or Sheraton—said that there were definitely restaurants she wished she could go back and review, but there were just too many new restaurants to cover, and it wouldn't be acceptable to keep going to the same places over and over again. It must be remembered that Bruni is the first NYT critic to have a blog. It gives him the platform to comment on meta-reviewing issues, which his predecessors didn't have. FYI, Da Silvano's original review was by Ruth Reichl in 1998.

No, he cannot. However, I have the same quibble as SE: I noticed that "problem" in the Grimes oeuvre, which was why I didn't quote him. When he uses such a phrase, it's not clear whether he thinks that X is a neighborhood restaurant, or if he is merely making a comparison.

The point is that "neighborhood restaurant" is a term of art in the food business. It actually does mean something, and professional writers use it in a reasonably predictable way. Misuse of it is no more correct than if you say "sautéed" when you really meant "broiled." If you don't think Frank Bruni can be counted upon to use the language correctly, feel free to cite some other writer.The last review cited, by the way, was Amanda Hesser. The next one before that (which I didn't cite) was William Grimes, a zero-star review. We can go back as far as you'd like.