HudsonRW: Greene Hook

RER 7.30.16

Greene Hook is new in town. It is rough around the edges, ready for refinement, but full of promise. Imbalance and excess were apparent throughout the regular menu items and the Hudson Restaurant Week prix fixe menu. Not only did the dishes feel unperfected, but also the fluidity of the eatery has not yet reached full potential. But, Greene Hook is on its way.

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The Spanish octopus starter from the main menu was scrumptious and layered. The octopus was tender and delicious with a fatty, succulent feel. It was the reference point for the feel of the other elements of the dish: surprise avocado echoed the texture of the octopus, while slinky shishito peppers paired with the slinky yuzu-compressed cucumber. The charred purple pink of octopus stood out against the melee of greens and the frizzy tempura, but each element combined to delight the senses.

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The skin of the entrée duck breast was crispy, whereas the center was almost over done, so the meat lost that gamey lusciousness that is associated with duck. Cashew crumble offered a richness that is already innate in duck, while sweet tart pickled grapes cut the decadence of the meat. A sunchoke puree brought a creamy element to the dish, its color and flavor matching the roasted turnips. Green beans brought color and freshness to the plate, helping with equilibrium.

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Proportions were off in the prix fixe pork belly appetizer— not enough crispiness to forgive the fat of the pork belly, not enough meat to savor the flavor, not enough peach to cleanse the palate, and not enough corn pudding to usher in summer. The peach and corn pudding were nice touches, helping to tip the scale towards balance, but the greasy fat outweighed and overwhelmed all, leaking into the golden yellow pool, contaminating it. The concept and aesthetics were on point, but its execution underwhelmed.

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One of the prix fixe offerings is the Scottish salmon entrée. The salmon had a beautiful crust, salty and substantial, but the meat itself was overwrought. The dish was buttery and drowning in that luxurious savoriness without enough relief. Momentary reprieve was found in the thin disks of peppery radish that were fresh and crisp. Even the earthy Swiss chard could not escape the relentless butter notes. The deep green vegetable could have deepened flavor profile and lightened the monotone heaviness through contrast. The bacon, chewy and crunchy, contributed to the buttery decadence with a meaty sharp saltiness.

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A non-conventional crème brûlée was the dessert course of the prix fixe meal. Part of what is so delightful about crème brûlée is texture and the play of warm and cold, the satisfying crack of the brûléed sugar crust, the custard smooth as silk. The modified crème brûlée managed to encapsulate similar flavors with the addition of too dense, too thick, immutable chocolate ganache. The texture of the middle layer was grainy and not completely effortless, while the foam was fun yet almost flavorless. The play on the classic needed a shock of intensified flavor and further play with consistency.

Greene Hook has some innovative and attractive offerings, but it is still quite green. With settling, the bar eatery can be a real regular spot in the neighborhood and a delicious addition to the Paulus Hook community.

There are only a few days left of Hudson Restaurant Week. Take advantage of the deals. See some of foodie ventures previous #HudsonRW adventures here.

RER

8.3.16

the world is your OYSTER: Stingray Lounge

RER 7.1.15

Oysters are supposed to be sexy, at least that’s what people say. They’re an aphrodisiac (if that’s a thing) and a delicacy. I want to believe it. I want to believe that those slimy wet globs are as seductive, visceral, delicious, and intriguing as people say they are.

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RER 7.1.15

RER 7.1.15

Stingray Lounge made me believe. The new-in-town seafood bar and eatery does in fact make oysters sexy. There is something poetic in the mechanical dirty work of shucking an oyster. There is something thrilling about not knowing what to expect when the shallow dish of ice displaying a ring of mysterious morsels slides in front of you. There is something luxurious about the smooth and creamy nature of the Blue Point, the sheer softness of the Stingray, or the melt-in- your mouth quality of the Pearl Passage. There is something surprising in the strong flavor of the Kumamoto, the meaty firmness of the Conway Cup, or the metallic saltiness of the Hood Canal. There is something unnerving about their slinky texture and origins, and yet there is something intoxicating about an oyster’s pure freshness, overwhelming rawness and pristine character.

RER 7.1.15

RER 7.1.15

It is not just about the oysters themselves at Stingray Lounge— it’s about the ambiance you are thrown into crossing the threshold as well. No matter how bright and bustling it is on Washington Street, there is a captivating silence and refreshing refinement that oozes mature sexiness encapsulated in the lounge. The details help to make the experience sensual: the cool greys and blues, painted brick, speckled marble slabs, finely appointed furniture. You forget where you are and submit. 

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Despite the trendy vibe, Stingray still maintains a warmth and friendliness where extravagance and attitude have not overwhelmed familiarity. Plus, the 4 to 7 pm happy hour offering half-off oysters and bubbly makes it easy to come, sample and linger.

RER

7.1.15

RER 7.1.15

ripple EFFECT : Amanda's

RER 10.17.14

There were five of them and it was almost too late to eat, but they knew they needed to, so they did. They had been there before, many times, but this time something felt a little different. There had been a small shift, like a timid constant daring for a change, only it makes changes so miniscule, they are almost imperceptible, just enough to ripple the surface and make people think.

The change was not in the service or the quality of ingredients. Amanda’s has always been one of the most consistent restaurants in Hoboken, never wavering from its high standards and the freshest, most seasonal ingredients.

Nor was it in the décor. The dining rooms still felt like the formal dining rooms of homes you might have been to. It remains timeless and comfortable, and just elevated enough to feel excellence.

Maybe it was the menu. Amanda’s does a few things very well, each dish may shift with the seasons, but these items are to be anticipated on the menu. This evening, some of those were indeed listed, but morphed to a recognizable unfamiliarity.

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As always, a polenta starter is featured on the menu.  This time it was the base for a spicy sausage ragu topped with pretty mache and salty strands of parmesan. The polenta was creamy and warm, as expected, but the ragu was multifaceted and distinct.

RER 10.17.14

The entrees too, were in typical form— a tower of starch, vegetable and protein—but mixed up and embellished. The flaky pink grilled salmon sat atop a thick slab of lobster mashed potatoes, flanked by buttery green beans. A slight adjustment to the potatoes inspired curiosity and resulted in creamy luxury.

Similarly the seabass precariously perched on a round of garlicky sautéed spinach and a quinoa risotto, played with the same model, but creativity came with the base. Instead of the classic risotto or even a grain, Amanda’s new vision offered an inventive twist.

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The duck dish, complete with maple-roasted butternut squash, bacon lardons and wilted mustard greens, read like an old dish but instead brought excitement. The maple surfaced the earthy sweetness of the butternut squash, which accented the earthiness of the dark greens. But the salt of the lardoons and the fattiness of the meat made everything sparkle.

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Even dessert brought something uncharacteristic to the table. A banana cake with caramel ice cream felt like bananas fosters on the tongue, classic and simple but recreated. And a butterscotch pudding, layered all the dreams of sweetness into a perfect little package, presented in a jar. The chocolate molten cake is an old standby, unbroken by new imaginings.

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Sometimes the key to consistency is a kind of monotony and paucity of innovation. This flatness was at times present at Amanda’s—not that the food wasn’t good, it was, just predictable and safe. The new turns have created a more exciting experience, while replicating the high standards and quality. 

RER

10.17.14

organized CHAOS: Central Kitchen

RER 8.22.14

The room was like whispers— an intricate balance of indoors and outdoors, starlight streaming in, growing greens, silent water, and sturdy wooden feelings. The space belonged to fairies and twinkling lights, warm laughter and robust wine.

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At Central Kitchen in San Francisco, the flavors of fresh mingled with exquisite execution, local and seasonal ingredients and something a little too cool to utter. Each dish felt like a harvest of the best, misplaced and disoriented, redirected to produce an earthy perfection.

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The swirl of stone fruits of pinks, peaches and hushed purples, hugged the soft and sticky burrata, stretching. Earthy greens darkened the fruits tangy tenor, urging the burrata to hold the center. Crunchy fried bread felt sharp as thorns to the stone fruit flower— sharp and savory.

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A pyramid of pink triangles, thick with light green pistachios and white striations of fat and flavor, stood up proudly to delicate chips crisp with air and heat. The meaty pate longed for fall and wind and leaves, but was rich and rugged, here and now.

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Almost indistinguishable splotches arranged themselves on the plate, lopsided and lackadaisical. Smears of horseradish cream, imperceptibly spicy, cradled fat and juicy fresh figs dressed in slimy exotic lardo. The creaminess below was at odds with the crunch of the seeds and the liveliness of the fig, while the fatty and salty lardo unified both disparate fronts.

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A ring of delicate green cucumber, rich and roasty potatoes and mini micro greens, danced around the plate, chasing after a salty, crunchy king salmon. It was light and playful, a song of earth and sea.

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Meat lay flat in multicolored rectangles, layered with heavy pork, luscious fat and crunchy skin, while a thick line of a mélange of yellow corn and wild rice divided the plate. Wisps of vibrant green herbed emulsion exclaimed, contrasting dark bittersweet blackberries and cream.

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A random smattering of odd shaped pastas, wheaty with fennel pollen, multiplied, like a colony of cells reproducing in warm weather. Sweet golden knobs of corn heightened the saltiness of each thick and almost crispy chunk of brown red pancetta, springing to life with artisan cheese and great green chives.

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Puzzle pieces of drenched peach slices, precarious crunchy cookie,  sweet peach compote and floral honeycomb bites fit together, textures playing a tug of war while warm and cold sweetness made jagged edges round.

The plates all were a pretty consortium of the most colorful and rich moments, laden with purpose and guidance—almost like an organized chaos.

RER

8.22.14