Dave H

This is true. But also while the NY Mag article only came out a few weeks ago, reading it closely I'm pretty sure most of the reporting and interviews were done before the late-night menu became the dinner menu and the whole focus of the restaurant changed. (It's difficult to believe, but that was only a month and a half ago!) It's not media spin to say that the concept of Ssam Bar as foodie-style Chipotle has failed, not least, as Chang acknowledges, because of the location. What Ssam Bar has become is pretty damn awesome, but it's not what was originally intended. Now, was David Chang ever really in danger of moving to Las Vegas?? ...Well, no, I don't think so.

I would agree, except that my only meal there was so atrocious that it could not reasonably be considered "annoying". Of our six dishes, five were complete disasters from conception to ingredients to execution. (The sixth, chicken slathered in barbeque sauce with a side of okra, was tasty enough although not particularly well executed and comically out of place for that sort of restaurant.) The ingredient quality at this supposed market-oriented restaurant was a considerably bigger joke, ranging from mediocre (at the top end) to certain standouts like a large slice of tasteless canteloupe which seemed to have been poorly selected from the nearby Key Foods; and the lamb in one dish which had literally gone rancid, a quality that was then enhanced by its sous vide preparation. Also they were out of some particular variety of pepper, which left one dish utterly flavorless, and a soup where they subbed in a different pepper tasting bizarre (although given the rest of the meal, far be it from me to suggest it didn't taste bizarre originally). But the most unbelievable moment of that meal came when our waiter lectured my dining companion and me for caring too much about food. Yes, this actually happened--prompted I think by our having the temerity to ask what was included in the "Selection of American Farmstead Cheeses". He disappeared to run down to the kitchen, then came back up to ask us, "you mean, the actual names??" (We nodded.) Whereupon he disappeared for several minutes before bounding back with a small notebook in hand, in which he had written the actual names of the cheeses, although he still managed to mangle one or two of them. Although I think it had been building the entire meal when we asked him to describe several of the by-the-glass wines so we could match them to upcoming courses. (As for the famed all-American wine list, I would have been impressed that everything we drank was food-friendly, with proper acidity and decent varietal character, if only I hadn't felt like identical European wines would cost half as much.) In any case, after we selected some of the available cheeses (served way too cold, by the way), our waiter crouched next to our table (annoying!) and began to recount his own personal journey with food: how he had started out as a waiter at Gramercy Tavern, and how back then he had "bought into" the whole "food thing"--learned about wine regions, and types of cheese, and this and that--until one day he realized that it just didn't matter and everyone who cared about it were assholes, and lucky for him he was able to drop out of that hellhole and get a job at the Tasting Room. He then pointed out that we were young, presumably just starting out on our eating careers, and that we should stop caring so much about food before it was too late. No, really. All of this said, I fully understand that one of the distinguishing features of the Tasting Room is that the menu changes drastically from day to day, and while we managed to order perhaps the five worst dishes I have ever been served in a starred New York restaurant, I realize that on a different night we could have received food that was better enough to make the restaurant merely extremely annoying. Also apparently someone left the fridge open overnight the night before, and who can really blame them for that? Anyhow, while we're on the subject let me nominate The Grocery as Most Annoying Restaurant in the city. (Yes it is, too! Since 1898!) My lord, what an amateurish operation. The cooking resembles that of a somewhat precocious home cook with no training or education whatsoever. Sauces are unreduced and flood everything on the plate. The waitress has to warn you to "be careful, the plate's really hot" (where are we, TGI Fridays?); too bad she didn't warn the duck breast, which may perhaps have been medium rare when placed on that plate, but is inching toward well done by the time you eat it. And, more than anything, the food is all the same: soft proteins, loads of braised greens, and wet vinaigretty sauces slopped through everything breaking it all down to a perky acidic mush--which is somewhat tasty, to be sure, but is also, in the end, slop. No contrasting textures, no contrasting flavors, no contrasting temperatures; just warm, mushy, tangy slop. The service is bizarre and aloof. Of the very few wines by the glass (three reds, IIRC?) I managed to pick one that was just terrible, with no redeeming qualities and massively overpriced at $9 or whatever it was. The owner was condescending and unapologetic when we tried to explain that the fact that they had a large private party in the backyard was not, in fact, a valid reason for our appetizers to take 45 minutes to arrive. And so forth. But of course by far the most annoying thing about The Grocery are the legions of idiot Brooklyners who actually think it's any good. Well, it's not.

Another plug for the cubanos at Margon--cheap and fantastic. (46th between 6th and 7th) ETA: lunch only

To add my two cents to the Robyn-disagreeing: Last week I had my first European three star meal, at Arpege. The room is an embarrassment, a dated, shabby stab at plainness that, while apparently a daring statement for a three star aspirant when it opened (in 1986 as far as I can tell), looks, well, precisely like a daring minimalist statement from 1986. Don't get me wrong, it's a warm and friendly room, and the intent certainly matches the feel of the cuisine; but it hardly compares to, for instance, the decor at Jean Georges or per se. (And I hated the room at per se.) I'm not even sure it compares favorably to Blue Hill. There was, for instance, a discolored rectangle on the wall above the entrance to the kitchen where an exit sign had clearly been ripped out and not painted over. Like, it's bad. The wine list is terrible, too--short, overpriced (or so I've been told; certainly it is extremely expensive), and painfully missing the ancient verticals of big name wines that you expect at a high-end place. Only the middle complaint really applied to me, and there is the saving grace that if you order carefully a single, mid-priced bottle of white can match your whole meal, but again this is a list more appropriate to a NYT three-star than a four-star. The service was fine, and quite warm and friendly, but certainly nothing impressive and occasionally somewhat clunky. Nor was there anything particularly impressive about the flatware, china, glasses, wine service, and so forth. (The wine is served in custom-made Lalique glasses etched with the restaurant's signature wavy logo, but this is yet more 80s-style cheesiness.) And the informality extends to the clientele: while we were there, we saw several diners wearing schlumpy casual sweaters, and I've read reports of locals wearing Polo knit shirts to Arpege during the summer months. All of this was made moot by the food, which was utterly phenomenal and a clear level above that at per se (where I was quite impressed), or frankly any other restaurant in America. (I would still rate Alinea as my favorite meal overall, but that is clearly a matter of personal preference not objective excellence.) The point is not to deny that most Parisian three stars achieve a level of elegance and formality in decor, service, plates and flatware, etc. beyond what you find in New York. (I have no personal experience, but it is my impression this is not true outside of France.) The point is that there are extensive historical and cultural reasons unique to France why this is the case; and that while the Michelin guide's long history in France may have influenced those standards, in extending the guide to other countries Michelin clearly has to take the restaurants they find on their own terms, rather than trying to situate them back in Paris. (Of course there are conflicting opinions how well they have achieved this, but it is clearly not the case that they don't even try.) Whether it's the influence of the non-France Michelin guides reaching back to the mother country or whether the "Michelin three star" mold was never as inflexible as assumed, the fact is that Arpege not only carries three stars but is considered among the top of the three star restaurants. You may get a different level of service and formality at "French Michelin three stars" as a class than at American ones, but don't be so quick to assume this means Michelin is grading on a curve. Having said all that, I'm quite open to the charge that the New York Michelin is grading on a curve. But that's just because I don't think Jean Georges is all that good, not because there's some minimum standard of formality it fails to meet.

Word. Just to make it painfully obvious, let's walk through Ilan's five course finale menu: 1. Pan con tomate with caviar and angulas - a permanent dish at Casa Mono plus caviar (from a tin) and eels (from a can). The tomatoes, at least, were local. 2. Pan-roasted moi with macadamia gazpacho - the summer menu at Casa Mono has pan-roasted dorado on a tomato gazpacho; same dish with a substitute fish, and a clever local twist on the alternative form of gazpacho. 3. Roast squab in lobster sauce with prawns, foie gras, and braised leeks - I actually didn't recognize this from Casa Mono, but Padma called this out on her blog as being a copy of a quail with "langoustines" (probably actually prawns) dish there. Again, I haven't had that dish, so I don't know just how closely this was ripped-off, but given that her only other cited example was the perfectly identical fideos with clams from a previous episode, I'm guessing pretty close. 4. Braised short ribs with romesco - at Casa Mono, it's flank steak. Judging by comments that the short ribs were under-braised and the dish needed more juiciness, he might have been better off copying it exactly. 5. Fruit and sorbet with bunuelos - the bunuelos, which of course are the signature element of the dish, are also the signature element of Casa Mono's bunuelos with crema catalan. The ones Ilan made on the show were identical.

But that's just it: it's pretty hard to be very impressed with Ilan if you realize how many of his dishes, particularly his most successful ones, come straight off Andy Nusser's menu at Casa Mono. (Which is indeed pretty awesome.) What I don't get is how the three NYC-based judges manage not to call him on it. They talk all the time about his "Spanish restaurant in New York," and how "maybe we'd like to see Ilan move beyond just doing Spanish flavors," but never, "maybe we'd like to see Ilan stop making the same dishes he made twenty times every single day at his job, which are not even traditional Spanish dishes but rather the creations of another chef." Marcel was damn lucky to make it through to this episode, but at least it's nice to see that when he's not restricted to home pantry ingredients and the selection of appliances available at show sponsor Sears, for God's sake, he can turn out well-conceived and executed modern food. A bit of a shock to see Sam go despite being clearly the strongest contestant over the entire season (aside from the whole watermelon-with-asiago-and-cabrales fiasco--which I am apparently one of two people in the world to think might actually be a good idea, although it sure did plate ugly--did he ever screw up?). I guess if Ilan's taro leaf, morcilla and squid dish was as good as the judges' blogs say, it's possible he deserved to go on to the finale. At least it's not on the menu at CM.

How about because they could get a lot of publicity for busting a high-end restaurant? I'm sure you can imagine the New York Post and Daily News headlines. ← Yes, and it would be extraordinarily negative publicity. Whoever was responsible for the decision to send an undercover, underage cop, and a second officer posing as his mother, into EMP, spend $300 of taxpayer money for a couple tasting menus and a bottle of wine, and then shut down a New York Times three star restaurant for serving alcohol to an accompanied 20-year old, would be pilloried in the press and most likely forced to resign. There are two related points here. The first is that it is much more feasible for the police or ABC to go after bars or clubs than fine-dining restaurants, because an undercover officer can catch a violation with no outlay of money or, at worst, a small cover charge in the first two cases, but it takes an expensive dinner order in the last case. The second is that, potentially unlike the case of minors getting drunk at a bar or club, the situation of a minor having wine with dinner accompanied by his parent would be universally considered by elite NYC opinion to be a totally victimless crime, and thus public support for pursuing these sorts of infractions would be near zero. (To address a point made earlier, this is in marked contrast to Spitzer's investigations of various corporate and financial market malfeasance.) Of course this would be little comfort for Danny Meyer and EMP, which would still be guilty of a violation, but all of this explains why the danger that the authorities would break with precedent and start going after fine-dining restaurants is extremely unlikely.

Magnolia's cupcakes are disgusting. It's not that I hate cupcakes: the ones from Sugar Sweet Sunshine in the LES are kind of good, for instance. I mean, they're fine. They stand up to the memories of cupcakes from my early childhood, which is probably an indication they're actually considerably better. It's just the cupcakes from Magnolia. They're revolting. I finally relented and tried one last spring, having avoided them for years out of a sincerely felt cultural disdain, although I'd certainly always assumed they tasted alright. It was late on a cold weekday evening (we were coming back from dinner at Delicia, a great, homey Brazilian place on W. 12th, but if you've ever eaten there you know the pace of the service is such that you don't get out until late), so by the time we passed Magnolia there was just a short line of callow 20-year-old girls outside, and a scrum of them within, fogging up the windows, loitering disorganizedly and pouncing every time a new tray of cupcakes was brought out from the back. A fresh tray of purple-headed ones came out. We grabbed one and quickly paid. I stepped outside and took a bite... ...and I was floored. It was perhaps the single worst-tasting thing I had ever put in my mouth. The icing is a dead-ringer for a block of vegetable shortening whipped with food coloring and tremendous quantities of sugar. Except that it's actually much sweeter than a mouthful of plain cane sugar, plus there's a faint chemical tinge. So more like shortening and industrial sucralose. Also I remember a hint of vomit taste. I stumbled forward in a haze, so paralyzed by shock that my body failed to do the obvious thing (spit it out and toss the rest). It was sort of like that point in the movie where a character gets shot in the chest when they least expect it, and they look down at the bullet hole with an expression of wonder and surprise. I was so stunned I took another bite, at least avoiding most of the icing out of self-preservation and instead getting almost all cake. In an evenly mixed bite, the sweetener-powered icing is so overwhelming that you can't taste anything else. But if you actually eat just the cake part you discover that it is coarse and dry to the point of tasting stale, closely resembling bad two-day old cornbread minus the corn taste. This was astonishing because it certainly seemed like the tray of cupcakes had just been iced, presumably somewhat fresh from the oven. But then everything about the experience was astonishing. Reflecting on Magnolia and its role in igniting New York's (and apparently now America's) inane cupcake trend fills me alternately with contempt for the human race and despair for its future.

Mas serves very late as well--all the way until 4, actually. But that's beside the point. You should go to Momofuku Ssam Bar, which is serving some of the best and most creative food in the city. (The thread here doesn't do it justice.) Having your dinner delayed until after 10:30 is a blessing, not a liability. If you just want good, serious food, and you don't mind using paper napkins and listening to Pavement, it is definitely the place to go.

Well, Sripraphai is filling probably four or five times the seats it had when Bruni bestowed his two stars, but I get the sense that was on its way to happening anyhow--the first phase of the expansion was already underway, and the lines in the original space were getting ridiculous. So my guess is that Spicy & Tasty will stay its normal, crowded but not overthronged self, but then again as big as the place is there's often not much margin to handle even a modest influx on top of the regular crowd. Anyhow, if you can't get into Spicy & Tasty you might as well go to the much better Xiao La Jiao a.k.a. "Little Pepper" around the corner on Roosevelt (in the original Spicy & Tasty space, as it happens), which is the best Sichuan restaurant in the city. (Yes, I know, I should start a thread. So sue me.) Otherwise, while Bruni was right to focus so much of his review on Spicy & Tasty's cold appetizers, which are indeed amazing and the best of their kind around, its entrees, though superior in breadth and authenticity, are generally not as good as their counterparts at the St. Marks Grand Sichuan or the 39th St. Wu Liang Ye.

Jeffrey Steingarten wrote a typically great column on the subject a few months ago for Men's Vogue. It was the starting point for many of my points, although I did google the terms in question to find out more and place them in context. (This was more out of curiosity than skepticism, as Steingarten's research is always thorough and scrupulous.) Of course most of the foie gras material you find at the top of a google search will be from farmsanctuary or PETA or other wackos, as that's what gets the most incoming links, but it is worth reading to confirm the facts that everyone agrees upon, to note the facts they ignore, and to see how they use misleading statements and anthropomorphism to make their arguments. With a little knowledge it becomes very easy to read between the lines. As for citations on a few of the specific facts I gave: Michael Ginor of Hudson Valley Foie Gras gives his mortality rate as 3.5 percent, while this resource is one of several putting the mortality rate among factory farmed chickens at upwards of 10%. The fact that the birds' livers return to normal healthy function is something I've seen discussed numerous times in the past, and is confirmed in Steingarten's article. His discussion of the 2005 AVMA vote is confirmed by numerous anti-foie gras websites (they of course avoid calling the vote "overwhelming" and express outrage, attack the AVMA as a tool of agribusiness, etc.). The discussion of hepatic lipidosis is helped by its wikipedia page (it is indeed a medical condition--not a disease in itself--when it occurs unintentionally in people; there are also google references to hepatic lipidosis being a problem for some cats). And so forth. I should point out that I had misremembered the typical length of gavage as being two weeks (it is four), and that despite some references I saw putting the lifespan of a factory chicken at 6-7 weeks, the more common length seems to be 8-9 weeks, so the lifespan of a foie gras duck is twice that of a typical farmed chicken, not over twice as I claimed. As Steingarten points out, good research on foie gras husbandry is scarce. The EU produced a major report some years ago; I didn't look it up last night, but I read it a year or two ago when I was considerably more ignorant and undecided on the question, and my main takeaways were 1) the lack of any concrete physiological evidence that gavage caused the birds distress, particularly the stress hormone research; and 2) the fact that the strongest criticisms they could come up with involved the incidentals of foie gras production (e.g. the restrictiveness, cleanliness, etc. of the cages at some farms during gavage). Of course these factors are far worse in typical factory farmed poultry, and from what I gather are considerably better at the few North American farms than at the worst of the many French farms. The English language papers of the researcher Steingarten mentions on page 5 can be found here.

It is not. If, instead of being slaughtered, a foie gras bird is put back on a normal diet after the full two weeks of gavage, its liver will shrink back to normal and it will be none the worse for wear. There is no detectable permanent liver damage. Which makes sense as the livers of wild ducks and geese become engorged every year (albeit not to the extent seen in foie gras production) when they overfeed in preparation for migration, and of course return to normal as the excess fat is burned in flight. If you read all the animal rights propaganda claiming that foie gras is a diseased condition (which is pretty much all of it these days, as they have seized upon the "disease" framing eagerly now that they've realized the "stuck-up Frenchy" framing has started to lose its cachet), you will typically see the putative disease identified as hepatic lipidosis. Hepatic means "of the liver," while lipidosis is abnormal fat accumulation. That is, hepatic lipidosis is just the dictionary definition of foie gras, a literal translation of foie gras from French into medicalized Latin. It is also the dictionary definition of "begging the question." Anyone claiming this term proves foie gras livers are diseased should be made a laughingstock. During normal foie gras production, measurements of stress hormones show no change from baseline levels, and measurement of pain signals are low enough to be inconclusive. (To the extent they are raised, they are hypothesized to come from aggravation of the crop following two weeks of frequent feeding.) Total mortality rates, while higher in the final two weeks than in the pre-gavage part of life, are well below those prevailing on typical poultry farms despite over twice as long a lifespan. In 2004 the American Veterinary Medical Association convened a committee to study the available research on foie gras production, including a visit to an American producer. In 2005, based on the committee's findings, both the original resolution condemning foie gras production and a watered-down version were overwhelmingly voted down by the full membership. This seems a rather unambiguous statement that America's veterinary community does not consider foie gras production to result in disease.

It was. If you pay close attention, she says it was two tablespoons per cookie. Two tablespoons of sugar is 90 calories. With the Splenda cookies they had been only 60 calories under the limit. Sure, she cut back on the number of egg whites, but those are relatively low-cal. Unless she used at least two eggs fewer per cookie, they were over the limit. Not to mention that she served two tablespoons of refined sugar each to a bunch of diabetic children!!!! Judging by how they looked, at least a third of those kids were at Camp GLUCOSE (hint) because they were type 1 diabetics. Presumably many of the overweight kids were type 2 diabetics, and all of them should be avoiding refined sugar for fear of developing the disease. Yes, the rules of the challenge only stipulated staying under the calorie limit, but, honestly--how stupid can you be?? And speaking of how stupid one can be: she tried to bake with Splenda???? I mean, even if we disregard the facts that: 1) She cheated. 2) She probably brought her team above the 500 calorie limit which should have disqualified them. 3) She fed refined sugar to a group of diabetic kids. We are still left with 4) she doesn't know that sugar's chemical properties are important for baking. She should have gotten kicked off for that alone!

Blue Hill is awesome, one of my very favorite restaurants. Sophisticated, modern cooking of impeccably good ingredients, in a casual but elegant setting. On the other hand, Blue Hill provokes widely disparate reactions among knowledgeable diners, and if you weren't particularly impressed with The French Laundry it's possible it would not be to your taste. I have not been to TFL, but when I finally ate at Per Se recently I was struck by how similar our meat dishes (an earthy rectangle of pork belly with black eyed peas, and a sous vide veal breast with carrots and parsnips) were to the mains at Blue Hill, albeit with even higher quality ingredients (there are VERY few restaurants in New York for which you can say that). While there is the roast skin on the (extraordinary) chicken breast or occasionally crackling with the pork dish, the focus at Blue Hill is on gently cooked meat and very seasonal veggies, and not on brash flavors or big sauces. As a side-note: what about WD-50? Obviously you have plenty of hyper-modern cooking in Chicago, but it provides an interesting (and in many ways very different, and certainly much more casual) counterpoint to Alinea. Unfortunately now that Sam Mason has moved on he won't be around to change your mind about dessert.

Having Arpege in Paris doesn't prevent eight other restaurants in the city (or 25 others in the country) from earning three stars. The reason The French Laundry is the only three star restaurant in the Bay Area is because The French Laundry is the only three star restaurant in the Bay Area.

Just to clarify, the ban on importing Sichuan Peppercorns was lifted in 2005 once it was demonstrated that heating them to 160 deg. (which apparently is done during processing anyways) kills any citrus canker they may harbor. According to wikipedia, the ban was not much enforced until 2002, which may explain why they were easy to find until then.

I believe Urasawa was on the list. ← Urasawa is "nee Masa"--it's Masa Takayama's old restaurant, taken over by his former sous chef. And put me down as another chauvanistic New Yorker who thinks Alinea's #1 ranking is the only redeeming aspect of this otherwise worthless joke of a list.

They are trying to guarantee a turn for every table without knowing whether they will get any unusually early or late reservations. As the date of the reservation comes closer, they have a better idea if they can afford to give tables at prime times without engandering other reservations (i.e. there are plenty of free tables, or there is a 5:30 or 11:00 reservation they can match with your request for 8:00). That's why rich was able to get a 7:45 friday res the previous day. Annoying but rather standard practice. Ask to be put on a wait list.

Having eaten at both numerous times, the 39th and Lex location is considerably better than 48th St., and also cheaper. In fact, I think it's the best Sichuan in Manhattan. (I would have to try Spicy and Tasty again before I extend that city-wide.)

They do.

To be fair, I think they intend to expand the menu in a more ultramodern direction. When I ate there a few weeks ago it was mentioned that they were waiting on a permit for the use of liquid nitrogen, and that Alex has been working up some custom designed serving utensils. Of course Adam Platt will not be impressed since Grant has already done both at Alinea...

Had a impromptu meal for 10 last Saturday night at GS St. Marks: 2x Dan Dan Noodles 2x Sichuan Cold Noodles Fried Pork Dumplings Steamed Veggie Dumplings 2x Steamed Crystal Shrimp Dumplings Smoked Tea Duck Red Cooking Pork with Chestnuts Ma Po To Fu Sauteed Hollow Stem Vegetables with Garlic Braised Whole Fish in Hot Bean Sauce Gui Zhou Chicken Eggplant with Garlic Sauce Hunan Cured Beef Double Cooked Pork Despite some concessions to the spice-averse and to an overzealous dumpling lobby (not GS's strong suit), it was a truly fantastic meal--particularly the cold noodles, tea duck, ma po tofu, hollow stem veggies (a new dish for me), and the always incredible braised whole fish. It's sort of amazing how, even with the St. Marks branch's limited menu, I could have easily fed another six or eight slightly more adventurous eaters with equally exceptional dishes I was forced to leave off (soups, cold apps and little hot wok dishes for a start).

Yes, I think that's exactly right. I'm not wanting to bash the place--what it's trying to do is certainly admirable, and even though I thought it fell short it is still miles ahead of all but a handful of UWS restaurants. And I'm not trying to put myself up as some Italian food expert (although I did know full well that bigoli is inherently grainy; the texture just didn't work out that night). But I am saying it's very possible to be disappointed with Regional for reasons other than ignorance of authentic Italian food--indeed because of familiarity with it. That plus expectations inordinately heightened by some of the very enthusiastic posts in this thread.

But your throat is nothing like a waterfowl's throat, and your physiological response to overeating is nothing like a migratory waterfowl's physiological response to overeating. And what happens to the factory farmed chickens and pigs that America consumes everyday is much, much, much worse than just having their movement limited. T-Shirts

Well, I went to Regional several months back expecting excellent authentic Italian food, and what I got was above-average UWS food with ambitious names. The menu reads beautifully, but dry, overcooked shellfish is dry, overcooked shellfish, whether it comes with scialatielli or linguine. The bigoli with duck ragu was interesting, but a failure as a dish--the pasta weirdly grainy (in fairness, I'm not normally a fan of whole wheat pastas...but as with everything I don't like, I assume that's because of the examples I've had, not the dish itself), and the sauce too sweet and one-note. It was clearly something that could have been delicious if prepared very well, but it missed the mark. And our fish (don't remember what, may have been a special) was simply bad. Moreover, the atmosphere was straight UWS: bright lights; hard surfaces; painfully noisy. Waitstaff not terribly knowledgeable or competent. Breezy graphic design on the menu behind (IIRC) a laminated sleeve, like it was some fast-casual chain. And prices to match: Large portions and cheap prices might be authentic for many parts of Italy, but in NYC it's a clear danger sign, and with good reason. And before you ask, I've spent 4 months in Italy and therefore thought I had a decent idea what to expect. Maybe that was my problem, combined with the glowing testamonials from the perhaps-desperate UWS residents here. In fairness, aspects of the food wouldn't be that out of place in many actual Italian trattorie. But there are a lot of mediocre Italian trattorie. Of course, every restaurant will have off nights (this was a tuesday, for what that's worth); I don't mean to imply that all the positive reports are wrong or ill-informed. But if we're looking for a simple reason why Pan's parents thought the food was bad, it just might be because the food was bad. They would have been far, far better sticking in his and my neck of the woods. Maybe that's not a surprise, but for any other unsuspecting readers thinking Regional transcends its location, not in my experience it doesn't.