Sneakeater

Not really. I think Mas is a great "date" place. The ambiance is perfect for that, and the reason I find the food underwhelming as food is why I find it perfect for eating out with people whose tastes I don't know: it's unchallenging, a bit underflavored to my taste,* and completely inoffensive and undistracting. Not what I want for a serious meal out -- but great for a date with a non-foodie. __________________________________________________________ * Of course, based on her comments in the Atelier Robuchon thread, Skye thinks I like my food oversalted.

Just did, in June or July.

Without wanting to get too off-topic, I think Matthew Hamilton's beef is that Uovo is exactly the kind of place that still benefits from a Times review. Uovo wasn't the kind of high-profile place that everyone would know about, but that an underrating from the Times might help kill (like Gilt and Alto). Rather, it's one of those neighborhood places that Bruni is fond of elevating. Even if Uovo got only one star instead of a "Bruni kiss" of two, that would still have put it on the map in a way that it never quite made. (I do recall that it got one of those "Tables for Two" blurbs in the New Yorker, though.) In other words, even if no one takes the Times's evaluations seriously anymore (although tell that to Scott Conant or Paul Liebrandt), a place like Uovo would simply benefit from the publicity. As salutory as Bruni's focus on more modest places in some ways is, this shows a dark side to it. Given the necessary limitation on available review spaces, his choices in this category have to be somewhat arbitrary. He has to review every "big time" opening. But in the quasi-neighborhood category, there are so many of them, of such apparently equal import, how to choose? You can see how unfair it must seem to the non-annointed. Like Matthew Hamilton.

Eater reports today that Uovo is closing. Matthew Hamilton's announcement blames the location and Frank Bruni (who never reviewed the place). I was quite fond of this place.

I find Atelier Robuchon NYC to be one of the hardest places I've ever been to reach a real conclusion about. The prices -- or some of them -- are just stupid. But the food can be really really good. So it's like whether your comments are positive or negative, they have to end with a caveat acknowledging the other side. Right?

FWIW, love the decor, love the service, find the food unimpressive.

Rereading this thread after I posted my review, I was rather startled to notice a 25% increase in the price of the tasting menu, from $100 to $125. The a la carte prices struck me as being commensurate with the tasting menu's price, but I guess that doesn't necessarily mean they went up since opening.

I thought the service was fine, by the way.

I had nothing to do one recent night and, when I found myself walking by 28th St., realized that I had always wanted to try Urena. I walked in alone, and -- this is a testament to how small the NYC foodie community really is -- found Cachaca Dave and a lovely companion of his at the bar. We chatted for a few minutes and, not wanting to intrude (his companion really was lovely) and vaguely thinking I might settle in for the long term with a tasting menu, I moved on to a table. Not surprisingly (Cachaca Dave is a prostiletyzer, a zealot, a missionary), one of the signature house cocktails, which happened to be a mango caiparinha (delicious), soon appeared before me, a gift from Dave at the bar. Thanks, Dave! The place was practically empty. I was so prepared to be appalled by the decor that I found it inoffensive. Even the too-bright lighting bothered me less than the inky darkness you tend to find at some other places (admittedly, I might feel differently about that if I were on a date). Most importantly, I liked the food enough to overcome whatever reservations I might have had about the decor. The tasting menu included enough of the a la carte items that I found interesting to induce me to order it. $125 for eight courses, with another $60 for the imaginative and interesting wine (and, with one course, beer) pairings. I don't really understand the questioning of whether the food here is "really" Spanish. If you've been to Spain since their culinary revolution, you'll recognize the style immediately. There's practicually nothing "molecular" about it; rather, it's solidly contemporary, perhaps descending more from Arzak than from his pupil Adria. I don't want to oversell Urena: it's nowhere near that exalted level. But it's good, very good. Favorite courses included the tapas selection, the crabmeat lasagna, and the scallops wrapped in chorizo with safron foam and squid-ink rice. Nothing was less than good. Everything was moderately surprising. The Bouley influence is clear, but there really isn't anything comparable to this food elsewhere in New York. And there's no comparing this food with the stuff Urena prepared at Suba: he has a free hand here, and he uses it. Of course, you've got to do a price analysis. $125 for an eight-course tasting menu puts this restaurant in the upper reaches of expense in New York (although of course not at the very top). On the one hand, you might point out that the food here is nowhere near as refined or well-prepared as at, for example, Eleven Madison Park, whose tasting menu is a little cheaper (although also less generous). But on the other hand, you might note -- a frequent refrain from me, I know -- that the styles of cooking at the two places are so dissimilar that they aren't really comparable. If you want this kind of food, you have to go here. Although I could imagine Urena's food being even better -- and he's a really young guy; in time, I'm sure it will be -- I in no way felt that I paid excessively for a meal that consistently surprised and delighted me. One of the very best restaurants in New York? No. A place that's well worth visiting? Absolutely. As I said, no one else is really cooking anything like this stuff anywhere else in the City. One personal note: there was probably a time when I could have easily handled the cocktail I ordered, the cocktail Dave sent me, and the seven or eight or maybe even nine generous pours that accompanied my meal. But if there was such a time, it was probably during the Ford or Carter administrations. I'd like to publicly apologize to the staff at Urena for the way I sort of staggered out of their place (it was that extra cocktail from Dave that did me in: I swear it). But they can be assured I staggered out happy.

As I said, that's a very valid point.

Just to be clear, I agree that Blue Hill isn't in the same category as the Tasting Room. It's clearly a higher life form.

I wonder if you'd like Blue Hill. (I myself am agnositic.) It may be that, as much as you like ingredient-driven cooking, you don't respond to really simple cooking (at least in restaurants that charge more than a minimum). (Although in the end the cooking at Blue Hill might be more superficially simple-seeming than truly simple: I haven't eaten there enough to find out, but suspect that based on what people like Bux have written.)

What do you think of Blue Hill?

Even an American thought THAT was hilarious.

I think that's a very valid point.

I think it's all a question of expectations management. I went into the old Tasting Room expecting to love it, fueled by the reviews here. I thought it was mediocre. I went in to the new Tasting Room expecting to think it was mediocre, on the basis of my experience with the old Tasting Room. I didn't love it, but I quite liked it. Now Nathan and Eatmywords, having read reviews like mine of the new Tasting Room, are disappointed. Probably, I think, because the food is so modest it only has an impact if you approach it with lowish expectations. I think BryanZ got it exactly right: I would argue -- well, not really argue, maybe just "say" -- that sometimes you don't want a "wow" factor. You just want to eat. I agree with Nathan that most of the stuff at the new Tasting Room is stuff you either could or almost could make yourself (if you had the time and connections to get such good ingredients). But what with work and posting on the internet and chasing potential new life partners and everything, I (for one) don't have time to cook like that. So there's a place for a place like this. That then brings us to the problem of the price. I didn't notice the prices here approximating those at Perry Street. It gives me pause to think of it that way. Because Nathan is certainly right that Perry Street is a whole level above the Tasting Room in terms of culinary sophistication and mastery. I always thought of the food at the new Tasting Room as being a pretty fair value, because even without any "wow" factor, the ingredients are so good.* Maybe I'll have to reconsider that. But are we SURE it's REALLY as expensive as Perry Street? ____________________________________________________________ * Tasting Room = less tasty, better ingredients. Little Owl = more tasty, worse ingredients. It never offended me that the Tasting Room charges more than Little Owl.

Yes. (You could also have pointed out that his restaurant is in a HOTEL.)

And do you remember the scene in Into the Heart of Borneo where his native guide Leon serves him a plate of what he assumes is spaghetti until he sees the strands have eyes? "Jesus! Worms!" he screams. "Yes," replies Leon. "Jesus worms. Very delicious."

It's odd. On the one hand, I agree with this comment very strongly. But on the other, then what's the point of a board like this?

Or alternatively he could have two hit TV series and a chat show in the pipeline which might help his raise his profile a bit. ← This will sound unduly chauvinistic, but I don't think New Yorkers are impressed with that kind of celebrity. We either take it for granted, or actively denigrate it. Nobody takes Bobby Flay seriously here anymore, and it's a real testament to Mario Batali's cooking that his repute here has survived his media exposure. So that shit might help with the tourists. But I don't think any of the locals are gonna run to a restaurant cuz the executive chef has two TV series and a chat show.

Where were you in the "Should You Wait A Year Before Visiting A Restaurant?" thread on the "General" board?

As someone who's never eaten in Nobu 57, I can only say that I can't imagine why you'd want to spend an evening on a boring street in Midtown when you can be in Tribeca instead. I'll also note that the last time I ate in Spice Market, it was vomitous. I think that place is pretty much over as a food venue (as opposed to a sceney drinks place). As for Cafe Gray, don't let the decor and general ambiance turn you off to the wonderful food. Just close your eyes and think of England.

Absolute complete agreement. (I mean with BOTH paragraphs.)

Shouldn't this be in the past tense?

It's interesting to note that, in his new perch on Bloomberg, Richman gave an ultimately favorable review to the NYC Atelier Robuchon: http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=206...olumnist_elliot So I guess his problem isn't with branches per se, but rather with branches in Las Vegas.