NYCRW: fig & olive

RER 8.6.14

It was warm and the sun was still shining so they sat outside. An early dinner. They lounged at a table hugging the exterior wall of Fig & Olive Downtown, enjoying slow sips and silent laughter. The pair indulged in time while perusing the Restaurant Week menu. But, in reality, they were hungry.

JAR 8.6.14

RER 8.6.14

Being simultaneously presented with amuse-bouche focaccia paired with three varieties of olive oil (light-, medium- bodied and peppery) and two colorful plates, left them flustered and hungrier than ever. Both appetizers were gorgeous, vibrant with colors aching to be devoured.

The seductive burrata arrived on top of orange rings of cantaloupe, bruised red wedges of heirloom tomatoes and a bright green basil oil. Its creamy center oozed, merging with the sweet fragrant cantaloupe. The tangy tomato brought its own sweetness and mimicked the texture of the other fruit, mildly more firm. The herbaceous emulsion added a savory feeling forging a rounder dish— fresh, light and luxurious.

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He handed her his spoon, an invitation to try his blisteringly bright lobster bisque. The bold red broth was briny and smooth, saltwater and sunshine. Dense pimenton chive mascarpone floated in the shallow pool, accompanied by partially submerged lobster pieces and a pretty crouton. Layers of lobster were highlighted by taste, texture and easy comfort.

Before she could even soak up the lingering delicate wet strands of burrata from her plate, darker hued entrees arrived, a striking contrast.

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The little rosemary lamb chops were served with herbed goat cheese gnocchi. The gnocchi were dense and shocking, luscious accents elevated to the level of the fancy gamey chops. Slabs of grilled eggplant added smoke and bitter notes as relief of richness. It was a decadent mix of familiar and flavors.

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He eyed the pretty set up of steeped oils and almond slivers, a pathway to a small bowl of her spiced couscous, perfect to soak up the deep juices of the chicken tajine entrée. Chicken pieces, dark with spices and buttery with time and seasoning, were placed on top of stewed carrots, zucchini and cippolini onions, plump figs and briny green olives. An aromatic dish, which tempted the senses. 

Even after eating their fill, they still craved something sweet, something to complete the circle.  Desserts, however, were less layered but the minimalist aesthetic resembled still life.

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A chocolat pot de crème was lined with a lose blanket of white cream hiding a thick chocolate pudding. Its sensuous bitter acquired taste diminished with every bite, blooming to smooth memories. While the dessert crostini were gorgeous—ripe red strawberries resting on a crunchy shortbread rimmed with sugar, smeared with sweet lusty mascarpone, and drizzled with dark balsamic. Both desserts featured expected connections and contrasting textures.

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With that, their early dinner was over and the sun was still out. Holding hands, they left, musing about the pretty eats, full flavors, and delectable bites.

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8.6.14

RER 8.6.14

truffle TAKEOVER: STK Meatpacking

RER 10.3.13

Dinner was more of a dance party than anything. STK wants to be an experience. Instead, it was just a place where some old masters mates could eat and be merry. Bumping music, red wine, and overblown food induced the desired merriment.

I was almost not hungry it was so late. But I was with foodies familiar with the menu, so decisions were swift and assertive. Only the starters seemed interesting, so my close friend and I greedily decided to share four. In the end, there was a lot of plate passing and seated gyrations.

The two plump scallops were perfect— seared, succulent and lovely. The heat was a welcomed unexpected contrast. The lemon ­­preserve, however, was unappealing. Its bitterness overwhelmed the delicate sweetness of the scallop, casting a dingy shadow on the appetizer.

The two wagyu beef sliders of the downsized Lil’ Burgers appetizer were a three bite take on comfort food. But the truffle oil doused bun did the sliders no favors. It was strong and felt forced, like a mask for the simple favorite to become something elevated.

Topped with moot frisee, served with forgotten crackers and bathed in black truffle aioli, the beef tartar was luxurious but also dirtily addictive. The raw meat flavors were lost in the combative aroma of truffles. Only the chewy texture remained, hinting at what it was meant to be. Though the tuna tartar was lighter, the soy honey emulsion had a similar cloaking effect as the truffle.

We didn’t really want to share the decadent foie gras French toast with our long lost colleagues, but sharing is caring. Sweet, savory, buttery, meaty, rich; the appetizer was a whimsical play on pan prepared foie gras with plain toast points. The airy almond brioche drizzled with sherry gastrique housed a thin slab of foie gras topped with soft tart green apples. The different supple textures echoed the luxurious flavors and the spike of tangy apple.

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The shape of the pasta in the lobster mac and cheese was reminiscent of the elbows of memories past, but the mature addition of lobster sweetened the cheesy dish. As many adult mac and cheeses use real cheese (not the bright orange variety from a pouch), this too had a grainy texture that baffled the mouth while the flavors seduced it.

The soufflé-like corn pudding was shockingly appetizing, sweet and pillowy, with a dark decadence that sided with the savory. It tasted like heavenly warm ice cream, interrupted with terrestrial golden corn kernels.

After consuming far too much liver, fancy beef, raw items and truffle (and wine for that matter), we indulged further with the requisite dessert. Each dessert was a playful rendition of a staple or a memory. Like the doughnuts coated in white sugar with white and milk chocolate sauces, served from a paper bag like at a fair with a trendy twist.

Or the birthday cake,  a dessert only a princess could imagine. It was a pretty column; a white fondant encased base topped with a spiral of baby pink frosting and crowned with clear candy and floating sprinkles. Beneath the buttery sweet parapet was a thick layer of dense almond cake, which rested on a cylinder of cookie dough ice cream. Sugary like childhood dreams and fairytales, in the end, was just too much.

 Many aspects of the Meatpacking eatery were just that, excessive. From the incessant and detrimental use of truffles, to the superfluous layers of flavors and ingredients, even to the heart-pounding music and slinky decor, it was hard to fully enjoy the meal. STK did succeed in creating an “experience.”

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10.3.13

RER 10.3.13