NYCRW: Park Avenue Summer

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Summer loving happened so fast. A prix fixe lunch at Park Avenue Summer for New York City Restaurant Week moved more quickly than desired on the sticky summer’s day, contrary to the languished sighs of summer and the current theme of the space.

There was hardly time to soak in all of the curated details of the restaurant space, which are meant to transport the diner to the summer season: bright yellow walls emulating sunshine, foliage appearing wilted with oppressive summer humidity, and white casts of turtle shells.  Like the menu, with each season the space is transformed to represent the appropriate time of year, and at this moment Park Avenue Summer felt like the dog days of summer, hot and sticky, sweltering with a feeling of lusty temptation.

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Cornbread, bright like the walls of the eatery, radiated fresh warmth and summer corn sweetness. The puffy cornbread bites initially looked like Madeleines, all ruffles and butter, but there was a hint of savory heightened by the spicy brick-red marbled compound butter. The cornbread spoke of lazy days at the end of summer, a familiar feeling even in the City’s unique heat.

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A sole orb of bursting burrata rested on top of a smear of salsa verde, which was bright but not quite right. The creamy cheese oozed from the firm outer skin, melting into the thick tangy salsa verde, colliding with the summer sweetness of peaches and moments of savory basil. Crunchy panzanella added a jolt to reality, bringing a firm texture to the appetizer, like the return trip from a mixed vacation.

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Despite their slightly crunchy exterior, the gnocchi were soft and heavy on the inside, the potato flavor pronounced. Black truffles were shaved on the spot, falling, forming soft peaks, another layer to the appetizer.  Creamy corn with studs of fresh corn surrounded potato pillows. The moat was sweet with an underlying zing that was bright relief from the decadence. This appetizer was a balancing act of light and heavy, sweet and tart, a mix of sun and clouds like an early August day.

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The branzino dish was architectural as two slender steaks of fish were stacked on one another and crispy skin maintained structure. Whimsical disks of firm summer squash echoed fat dots of saffron aioli, a contrast of density and flavors as well. A shallow pool of stewed vegetable ratatouille gave warmth without an expected heaviness. It was an odd but accurate encapsulation of summer.

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Again, corn came to play, but this time with four succulent scallops and tiny pickled peppers. The corn felt raw and tasted green, much like the pretty peppers toasty and slit lengthwise. The dish was a mix of shapes like modern art, while there was more toothy bite from the golden corn and little heat from thin wheels of peppers.  Salt clung to the sweet scallops, like warmth when the sun sets and lingers, mixing with the melodies of the other seasonal ingredients.

Cool and refreshing like the blushing pink frozé, the peach basil sorbet dessert, tickled sweet and savory notes. The basil made the disappointing honey poached peaches sweeter and more refined. However, the poached peaches were reminiscent of those in canned pie filling— saccharine to excess with the constitution of the summer stone fruit compromised.

The fruit tart was pretty as a picture, a collection of summer’s berry bounty. Deep velvet red cherries, striking strawberries, royal blueberries, and gem-like raspberries were looked painted, like glossy jewels on top of the thick short crust and tangy passion-fruit flavors. It tasted like summer should.

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Like the seasons, the dishes and pace were imbalanced. There was not time for constants and stability, subtly or depth. Flavors were intense and at times abrasive much like the celebrated season. The meal mimicked unpredictable and contradictory summer days, with harsh, hot, sun casting a golden glow in one instant, and glowering clouds clinging heavy but ushering cool refreshing raindrops.

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8.1.16

NYCRW extended version : David Burke Kitchen

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Barreled ceiling, light wood, cool colors—rustic chic— starkly contrast the over-sized portraits of farmers and fishermen displaying bounty, lining the warm cream walls of David Burke Kitchen. As if the gorgeous dishes vibrant with freshness, color and certainty do not illustrate the farm-to-table concept enough, these portraits drive the point home.

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David Burke Kitchen had extended its New York Restaurant Week, allowing for a three-course prix fixe comprised of menu items. It was like freedom with supplements, no limits but few restrictions, a sampling of the seasonal menu.

Despite their allure on paper, the fancy drinks fell short. The pretty winter sangria was deep and dark and spicy, while the ice cubes in the ginger beer and bourbon cocktail clinked as they melted, creating just a wet drink. The pisco sour was frothy and proud, tasty but not quite worth it.

The food on the other hand, most definitely was.

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Textures tangled in the appetizers—slippery raw fish met with floral crunchy cucumber in the salmon tartar; crisp and flaky on the outside, the chicken grilled cheese was chewy and stringy and hot with cheese inside; the dumplings of the soup held tender lobster meat, sweet and buttery, while the vegetables added life, freshness and texture.

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RER 3.11.15

Classic pairings with refined twists and turns, morphed entrees into elevated memories. Succulent scallops, crusted with sear, settled nicely on soft cabbage and salty lentils littered with meaty bacon, while the extra thick pork chop was garnished with abstract apple sauce and mature tater tots, and the tender short rib, marinated with time, danced with a crispy brick of risotto laced with strong gorgonzola. Each dish echoed timeless companions championed through perfected partnership.

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Dessert brought comfort and exotic notes. The gigantic monkey bread, served with sweet ice cream, thick fresh whipped cream, and dense caramel sauce was warm like breakfast and studded with meaty pecans and soft bananas. Juxtaposing the overlarge monkey bread was the delicate tropical tart, exuding sunshine, lime, pineapple and coconut filling out a crunchy cookie shell.

The appetizers and entrees were aesthetically simple and contemporary, but the profiles were complex and varied. Produce and seasonal items were transformed into the visual, sensual and visceral. 

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3.11.15

RER 3.11.15

NYCRW: fig & olive

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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.

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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

NYCRW: LAVO new york

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Lunch at Lavo for New York Restaurant Week was not just tuna tartare and margherita pizza, it was a lovely time catching up and soaking in the City. The just right breeze rolled into the restaurant through the open tall windows, but hardly any light came in passed the heavy bar into the darker dining area. Mixed music disrupted the mood lighting and detailed décor, which spoke to another time and place. But the food was classic and straightforward, combinations that were expected and reliable.

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It was thick colorful tomato slices with too little creamy bufala or a bed of buttery avocado supporting chunky pieces of pink red tuna in a pool of dark acidic dressing.

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It was peppery steak slices lost in sauce and accompanied by truffled parmesan fries or a little margherita pizza, straight to the point.

It was also dessert— light and colorful fruits with an adult strawberry sorbetto or doughy and greasy fried Oreo zeppole with a miniscule malted milkshake.

But most of all it was good company, good chatter and a good time.

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8.8.14

RER 8.8.14