Sneakeater

Some people may have forgotten, but Spice Market got enthusiastic reviews from pretty much every critic in town—not just Amanda Hesser. Just for the record, I'm usually the guy who reminds people of that. And you know, when Spice Market opened, it really was quite good (even if not as good as Hesser said it was). But it went downhill very precipitously pretty fast. So what did that do to people's assumptions about the "seriousness" of restaurants down there? And since Spice Market has continued to do land-office business even after turning into a complete shithouse, what does that make you think about any possible role for it (or any nearby business) as a culinary missionary, encouraging diners further to explore an unfamiliar cuisine? Most of the people who go there couldn't care less. We're really saying the same thing.

No, I meant what the restaurant would have to do to convince you it was serious, and worth going to. The issue I'm raising is how high the bar is -- what kind of information you'd require -- before you'd brave the throngs of braying drunk girls wearing halter tops even though it's 15 degrees out, falling all over you because their heels are getting caught in the cobblestones, in order to try a restaurant. (You know, described that way, it doesn't sound so bad.) I'm suggesting you might need to hear more solid favorable reports before you'd go there, whereas in other parts of the City you'd be more apt to give a new place the benefit of the doubt and drop in to try it just because it sounds interesting. Whereas in the MPD (or MePa), you might instead tend to start from the assumption that a new place is a low-level clip joint (no matter how respectable the names behind it), until "proven" otherwise. (That's why it was such a disaster for them to open the restaurant at a time when Marcus Sammuelson couldn't attend. What signal did that send about his commitment to Merkato as a serious reflection of his culinary vision?)

No, we're talking about Jersey travelling to us. ← To be fair, you're right.

No, we're talking about Jersey travelling to us.

That was exactly the parallel I was going to draw.

I think the trick, if you're down there, is convincing anyone you're serious.

Meatpacking District.

That's completely right, but they're still going to have a hard time convincing anyone serious to go to that area. It's become off-putting, almost affirmatively unpleasant and inconvenient, at least on weekends (as I don't have to tell you).

The problem is that at this point it's very hard to imagine a serious restaurant opening in that area.

Spice Market didn't do that.

Not exactly true. Very few of the zillions of women who constituted the clear majority of HT's customers were middle-aged. OTOH, maybe it's that that collagen stuff really works. PS -- I don't see how a focus on pig feet was too extreme. To me, it felt like coming home to a home I never had before.

I'm sorry; I wasn't clear. I agree that BLT Market was fully review-worthy. I think it was wrong for Bruni to dismiss it as he did. My point about gimmickry was that the "market ingredients" concept there doesn't seem like a felt necessity, a genuine esthetic and philosophical choice, as it did at, say, Savoy, and the countless Brooklyn restaurants that sprang from Savoy's kitchen, and the Blue Hill restaurants. Rather, it's clearly a gimmick adopted by a corporation for its new restaurant (and applied in an overly obvious manner, to make sure that a broad audience "gets" it: you don't see Dan Barber putting a list of what's in season on the side of menu) -- just the way the corporate owners of a bunch of chain restaurants might decide to branch into Mexican. This isn't bad in itself. The proof, as always, is in the pudding. I.e., what's on your plate. It would have been an interesting theme to explore in a full review (rather than a back-of-the-hand Dining Briefs blurb). Especially since the food at BLT Market isn't bad at all.

In that case, you probably DON'T have to go to Momofuku. But frankly, I don't see why you have to go ANYWHERE, then.

I agree that BLT Market turns one off because it seems so blatantly to be using the "market ingredients" concept as a gimmick. But oakapple is surely right that the menu doesn't at all resemble BLT Steak, BLT Prime, BLT Fish, or BLT Burger. I think the better question is: what does BLT Market provide that other already existant NYC restaurants don't?

Because it's nothing like that?

I think it's hard for BLT Market to get a fair shake. Everybody's so suspicious of chefs who expand their holdings as rapidly as LT has, that they sort of dismiss this new BLT venture -- the first one to open in New York since LT reached the tipping point -- out of hand. Frank Bruni certainly did. As unexciting as I found it, it's hard for me to think that BLT Market doesn't deserve a full NYT review.

It's OK. I wouldn't rush to go (back) there. But if forced, I wouldn't terribly regret it.

Could we hear more about the guest who used to be a stripper?

The key point is, if I were opening a new restaurant in New York, I wouldn't make it a formal (traditionally) four-star-type place, because this review PROVES that the New York Times critic wouldn't be receptive to it.

Considering how he spent something like half the review talking about how he generally doesn't like restaurants like that, and how there is only room for a couple of them, I don't think that's so.

. ← I hope my Shanghai Cafe dining companions read that. (Cut through the fat Jesus Christ.)

That thing we had at Shanghai Cafe was belly, right? Shoulder wouldn't have that much fat (?). Would it?

I'll be waiting for you at Weather Up.

MJR, it must have been a slip of the typing finger that caused you to locate the Smith St. Clover Club in Prospect Heights. Also, a charming former bartender at Hearth recently opened a cocktail lounge in Williamsburg called something like the Huckleberry Lounge. Eater also reported the very recent opening of another cocktail lounge in Williamsburg -- the fanciest and most D&C/PDT-like yet to open in Brooklyn -- called (I think) the Delmano Hotel.

What's funny is that I agree with that completely, yet STILL love the Bo Ssam.