NYCRW: Asellina

RER 3.4.15

Sometimes the higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment. Nothing could be more true about my experience at Asellina for New York City Restaurant Week. I was so excited to see one of my favorite friends, catch up and eat really good food. The first two happened, but the third was like the worst cliffhanger, dangling too long with an anti-climatic ending.

RER 3.4.15

The dinner date started strong with the aroma of my friend’s bourbon, the loud dance remixes, and almost too trendy décor. But waiting at the table too long, menus in hand, mouths watering, poisoned it. It gave us plenty of gab time, moments to soak in the sights and a chance get hungrier, but we were starving for the attention of the staff.

Eventually, we ordered and were not too deterred (although, I might have said  “Let’s just leave and get pizza” a few times); we had red wine and each other. After time, the music felt louder and our hunger intensified due to frustration.

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Finally our beautiful appetizers arrived— both the mozzarella in carrozza and the tagliere Piomentese were stately and minimalist. Perhaps things were looking up... The first was a glorified mozzarella stick, heavy and fried, while the tagliere was rich and decadent with pate, dried meat and tangy cheese. The accompanying focaccia remained tempting to dull hunger despite its greasiness.

RER 3.4.15

Our mains came out quickly, which created an uneasy tempo for the meal. A cast iron pot held a thick pool of cheeses, soft gnocchi and textured artichokes, ushering the scent and tastes of comfort, but nothing memorable. The roasted veal shoulder was tender, but forgettable with no flavors to ignite the senses. Its polenta waffle was intriguing, but too greasy and laden with garlic, an effort to make up for what was lacking.

RER 3.4.15

Now, dessert was on the horizon, our glasses of red wine were emptying, and we were becoming weary of the place, an itch to escape hung heavy. The desserts were like artwork to be looked at and not touched, or eaten. Two cubes of dense chocolate ganache were interrupted by salty, almost savory brittle— rich and chocolaty, smooth and crunchy. The pretty millesfoglie also had a savory bend to it. While the wild berries jam brought brightness to the meaty puff pastry and mascarpone zabaione, it was still too dark and dense. (Sidenote: I could not bring myself to finish, which is unheard of, but something was extremely off-putting, maybe it was just the culmination of an unsatisfying experience.)

RER 3.4.15

I did not leave happy, only craving something delicious and pizza, and regretting the meal. Perhaps too much flavor was injected into the concept of Asellina and not enough was inserted in the food—a pretty façade for underwhelming food and worse service.

RER

3.4.15

RER 3.4.15

NYCRW: BUTTER midtown

RER 2.18.15

Sometimes texture trumps taste. Sometimes what lingers longest is how each morsel felt on the tongue, silencing what speaks volumes with pure pleasure and interest. Sometimes it’s the seduction of touch and feel that is more invigorating, and disconnect is what binds.

The New York City Restaurant Week menu at Butter Midtown displayed a treasure trove of textures and a flourish of welcomed color, like watercolors on a studded canvas. It was a journey of aesthetics and consistencies battling it out—dissonant, jarring, evocative, subtle and sensuous.

RER 2.18.15

On jade green ringed bread plates, fluffy golden parker house rolls, crusted with flaked sea salt, sat high and domed, only outshined by smooth rounds of sweet and herbed butter. Both bread and spread were sweet, but the crisp flaky outer layer of the roll and staccato of salt countered the airy insides and the creamy butter. Rougher slices of baguette with heavy singed crusts deserved the herb-studded variety, chewy and aromatic.

RER 2.18.15

A cube of chopped pale fluke was encircled by negative space and an emerald line chasing itself around the plate. The appetizer felt like an absence of color and life, only awakened by rich magenta blood orange pieces and thin slices of prickly green English cucumbers whose skin echoed the emerald ring. The raw fish and blood orange were cut to the same size, mimicking texture and slippery appeal, while the cucumber added an almost imperceptible crunch, varying the mood and tripping the tongue.

RER 2.18.15

Four plump ravioli, over-garnished, rested snugly in a shallow bowl; a tangle of toppings disguising the meat filled pockets and a pool of buttery sauces. The bowl’s rim, decorated with a red brown floral motif like at grandma’s, matched the julienne candy striped beets perfectly, again connecting plate to dish. The freshness of the beet was crisp like raw vegetable, but the buttered breadcrumbs crunched like oven-toasted happiness, while the pasta was soft, bursting with stringy tender meat. Bright green chile pesto added heat and a thick feeling in the mouth contradicting the garlicky sauce collecting at the bottom of the bowl.

RER 2.18.15

Again, a distracting decorated plate highlighted its contents, allowing dessert to visually blend in with its surroundings and transcend flavor. The springy slick custard of the crème caramel, glided through teeth, while the ruby red pomegranate seeds got stuck and stumbled. Crunchy almond brittle echoed the dance of the seeds, but it was the syrupy sweet kumquat rind that caused a stutter: stop, put down the fork, cut the candied peel and savor.

The experience was about texture— the way each element played with its compatriots and each layer added to the textual architecture of the dish, the way the mouth perceived moments and memorized them, the way texture can trump taste and produce something satiating and musical.

RER

2.18.15

photo op: RECENT eats

RER 7.30.14

Eating should not be a chore. It really shouldn’t, especially for someone who loves to eat. Like me, I love to eat. But lately, it has been not so satisfying. Yes, I have had delicious things, like fresh cherries and juicy pineapple, an array of tiny cheesecakes my way and health conscious cookies from A&I Nutreats, and sweet rosé and crisp chips at The Writing Room.

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And tasty things like homemade olive gravy and grilled-just-right ribs, and thick bacon egg bagels from Wonder Bagels and topping tame frozen yogurt at Downtown Yogurt. But it just hasn’t been the same. 

RER 8.3.14

RER 8.3.14

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RER 8.2.14

RER 8.2.14

Don’t worry-- I won’t stop eating. It’s just not possible.

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RER

8.4.14

RER 7.25.14