Sneakeater

And rich, when you ask who cares, it's all the people who keep carping about Bruni's sexual orientation, or make cracks about interior decorators, or (most recently) accuse him of being a "woman-hater." I can't imagine why it has to come up.

Where did the Times amplify that on their web site? I must have missed it. What did it say? I can't imagine a way that wouldn't be awful!

1. New York is a small place. My gay friends know who's gay just like I know who's Jewish. 2. As I said above, I knew about Bruni because years ago, when Bruni was still a political correspondent, New York Magazine put him on a list of "Most Powerful NYC Gays and Lesbians" published in conjunction with Gay Pride Week. As I noted above, I remembered it because, out of everybody listed from the Times (they were listed as a group), Bruni was the only one whose sexual orientation was previously unknown to me, because he was the only one who wasn't essentially a "professional gay".

As far as I can tell, Nathan is talking about "queer theory", an academic analytic tool part of critical theory, whereas John is talking about analyzing things from the perspective of a gay male (whatever that might mean). John is hardly the only person who accuses Bruni of doing this. But I don't know what they're talking about. The only time Bruni raised his sexual orientation was an instance when it would have been stupid to avoid it. Do you think that if R.W. Apple wrote a review of Robert's he wouldn't have made some reference to what Betsy thought of the whole scene?

Perhaps this should begin to go in the "WD-50" thread, but on my last visit there (within the last couple of weeks), I had the short rib. It was somehow reconstituted and then cooked sous vide. It wasn't as good as a simple braised short rib. Of course, I've had other dishes at WD-50 over the years that I've enjoyed very much (although none that I've loved). As Simon says, it's hit and miss. And as Hanna says, sometimes they take something good and make it a little bit worse.

FWIW, I think Simon nailed WD-50. I feel exactly the same way as him. (Hanna may trend a little too far negative for me.) (BTW, it's so much fun reading you guys I almost feel bad for interrupting.)

That's interesting. Did you go at a time when they were slammed with a crowd? The reason I think it's interesting is that everything I had was something I could easily imagine being badly cooked: the meatballs could have been heavy and greasy, the pork could have been greasy, the carbonnade could have been oily and burnt. But none of it was. That was precisely what impressed me about this spot.

Resto is a new Belgian restaurant on E. 29th St., between Park and Lexington (the same non-neighborhood that Urena's in). It got a rave in the New York Magazine "Underground Gourmet" column -- and four out of five stars in the "cheap" category. I think this shows how useless and, frankly, idiotic the "two-tiered star stystem" is, but that's for a different thread. I do recommend Resto, for what it is, though. Resto is fairly inexpensive. Few entrees exceed $20. The food is simple, but with sufficient attention to detail and technical skill to lift it above the ordinary. Kind of like what Little Owl does (but not as good as Little Owl). The kind of place you're happy to see. They don't take reservations for parties of fewer than six. We got there at about 7 P.M. and had to wait about 20 minutes to be seated (they quoted us 45 minutes). When we left about an hour and a half later, 45 minutes seemed like a good minimum estimate of what people were facing. Given the paucity of truly good inexpensive places in this area, I don't think the crowds are going to disperse anytime soon. To say that this is the best Belgian food I've ever had in New York is faint praise, but there it is. My appetizer of fried veal/gruyere balls with a mustard dipping sauce was a treat. They were crisp but fairly light -- not leaden. My friend's appetizer of twice-cooked pork belly with endives was even better. The pork belly was sliced into thin strips, rather than served as the cubes we're used to. I don't know if it was twice-cooked the same way Chinese pork is -- but I do know that it was slightly crunchy, then soft, and tasty as hell. My main of a beef-cheek carbonnade -- with French Fries IN the pot with the meat -- was a hit: rich, hearty, and interesting. My friend's chicken -- from a fancy supplier; the kind of chicken that has some flavor -- was excellent. Great selection of draft Belgian beers. They have a late-night menu, starting at 11 p.m., that I'm very eager to explore. So, not as good as Little Owl. But different. Not as good as Blaue Gans. But MUCH cheaper. Better -- less wan and fussy, better realized -- than Klee. A fine place that I will visit repeatedly.

Suba, the modern Spanish restaurant on Ludlow right above Delancey on the LES, has never gotten, nor deserved, much respect. Even though it's had such estimable chefs as Alex Urena, none of what they've done there has ever amounted to much. The food was never bad, but it was never particularly good. You got the feeling the owner paid more attention to the decor -- the restaurant's showpiece has always been one of the dining rooms, where you eat surrounded by a stream of water reflecting grotto-like on the walls -- and sort of tamped down the food. Everybody thinks of Suba as a date place -- and that's really all it's been. Suba's owner recently opened the fabulously successful tapas bar Boqueria. He then closed Suba to upgrade the decor to what he said he always wanted it to be (alghough as far as I can tell all they've done is whitewash the walls). And, to upgrade the menu, he brought in Boqueria's chef, Seamus Mullen. I will never say that Mullen is a better cook than Urena. But I will say that this is the best food Suba's ever served. I'll also add, however, that, although good, it's nothing great. For modern Spanish, I'd solidly recommend Urena (unless you're on a date and care about the ambiance, in which case Suba's there to do what it's best at). The menu has a tapas section, an appetizers section, and a main course section. I had one from each. From the tapas menu, the croquetas. Three each of duck, cured ham and cheese, and crab. These were very cleanly prepared -- the frying was better done, technically, than at Urena. But, while perfectly good, they were not nearly as interesting as the similar dishes at Urena. The appetizer was a Scotch Egg (or Juevo Ecose as we say in Spanish). Very well prepared -- not greasy in the least bit. But not as striking as the somwhat similar fried deviled egg at Tintol (the "devil's candy", in H. du Bois's memorable phrase). For a main course, fideuas with rabbit, perrywinckles, leeks, etc. This was served in an iron pot. Also very well prepared -- I particularly liked the (purposely) burnt part of the noodles, sticking to the pot. And very flavorful (suprisingly spicy -- but not overwhelmingly so). But not as elementally satisfying as the fideos offered as an appetizer at Little Owl. So you can see the theme here. The food was all very well prepared (and that on a night when the chef himself was almost certainly absent from the kitchen to attend the Beard Awards). An extremely high level of execution. But the dishes, while good themselves, all called up memories of better things elsewhere. The cocktails remain much too sweet. So the new improved Suba -- while genuinely improved; better, really, than ever -- remains what it always was: a date spot that is good for what it is, but isn't really a serious dining destination.

Of course, it was worth it. ← Ahh thank you.. So it was good we left out the foie gras course then.. ← Frankly, what difference would it have made?

Of course, it was worth it.

... so, I'm glad I left early. You Bruni scholars are quite entertaining, you know that? ← Ok.. I will bite.. What the hell did you do after you left Barry? Let the record state, all guests left happy and healthy.. ← Get to my apartment. Put on CD of romantic Romanian ballads. Check. Turn off some lights. Check. Get on the couch. Check. HER: I can't move. I'm too full. I don't think I've ever eaten that much in one sitting. And I drank so much wine. ME: I can't move either. HER: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. ********************** Damn you Daniel.

(Fuck that was Twain.) (Should've googled it.)

I don't know about Oscar Wilde and any queer theory of restaurant criticism, but I do know that even though I'm a non-homosexual heterosexual male (although you couldn't have told that from my activities after Bite Club) (damn you Daniel), the next time I write about WD-50 I'm going to say that Wylie's food is better than it tastes.

For whatever little it's worth, that's what I think.

Hey why not? Even a stopped clock is right twice a day. [sMILEY]

I think we all agree with this part. (In fact, I think it's probably the best succinct statement of what's wrong with Frank Bruni as a restaurant reviewer that I've yet seen.) I just don't see where all the other stuff comes from. Not just your stuff, John. But everything from everybody. It's like, as far as many people here are concerned, Bruni couldn't possibly do a single thing right. His every move is apocolyptic. I mean, he rereviews a restaurant that arguably deserves a rereview: he gets slammed. He discreetly refers to his sexual orientation in a context so fraught that it would have been borderline fraud (and also astonishingly humorless) for him to omit it: he gets slammed. He reviews a chain that has been highly touted within the NYC foodie community: he gets slammed. I think all this carping diminishes the very real fundamental criticism that Bruni richly (no pun intended) deserves.

I think maybe this discussion of Bruni's sexual orientation (which I agree has like zip to do with his restaurant reviewing) got started off my comment that I thought McNally's "anti-woman" accusation was homophobic (like, would McNally have chosen to make that nakedly absurd* accusation against a hetero male?). ________________________________________________________ * I said "naked". Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheh.

I'm no Bruni fan -- I will state once more that I think he's incompetent for his job -- but he's damned if he does, and damned if he doesn't. People here have said that, given the changes there, Craftsteak needed a rereview -- but that it never would get one given the Times's space constraints and the current trend against rereviewing. So now, Bruni in fact does give it a rereview -- and he gets accused of being on the take. I mean, jeez.

It seemed very disigenuous to me for McNally to be denying Bruni's influence when at the same time he's mounting this ridiculous (and to my mind transparently homophobic) campaign against Bruni.

I think what you would really have to do is compare how Bruni rates Italian restaurants as against how he rates comparable French/contintental restaurants. This may be so subjective (what is "comparable"?) that it might not be doable. (Whenever I hear about Bruni's supposed Italian bias, I think, "What about Alto?" I guess oakapple would say that in that case, the Italian bias was trumped by the anti-fancy bias.)

I think that, as he usually does, Bryan captured it perfectly. The thing to emphasize is how much fun these things are. (And what great hosts those guys are.) To me, the standout was the goat. I've simply never had goat like that. It was like a whole new meat. I learned two things from this dinner, personally: 1. I need to drink less wine with dinner. 2. It's sort of a waste to bring a date to some event that will only end up sending her into a food coma. (I remember some blow-out anniversary dinners with my wife that were like that. We always ended up wondering whether we were defeating the whole purpose.)

I agree with you that the gianduja bar is a pleasant surprise. I ordered it because I wanted some dessert to absorb all the wine I had with dinner, but with no real expectation of anything very good. But, just as you said, it got better as I ate it. I don't remember the name of the pastry chef here, but I think he may be on to something. (FWIW, I think the rest of your review was spot on.)

Yes, as long as you don't expect anything more than a good neighborhood Italian place. (I've never had even a remotely bad pasta there.)

(God save us from our friends.)