Diner's Friend New York City Entry #100 Jovia

Jovia is so close to where I live and work that in the months I have been in town I have never stopped in. A chef is without honor on his own block. Perhaps Jovia has seemed too much a neighborhood joint (I have not treated Daniel similarly, although its distance is no greater). However, recently a friend suggested that we break for lunch and we hied off to Josh DeChellis's Italian-accented establishment for their $24.07 lunch prix fixe. If Jovia does not provide the finest meal or even the finest lunch, it surely is the champion prix fixe. A happy occasion for tongue and wallet. Cheap at twice the price.

Jovia's upstairs dining room is light and serious, and as with many restaurants in these days of global warming particularly striking for its floral arrangements, nicely accentuating the browns and creams. One can tell uptown dining from downtown by the space between the tables: Jovia is designed for the private tete-a-tete.

Lunch opened with a perfectly lovely Tortellini en Brodo, served with Duck, Ramazzotti, and Aged Provolone. This soup was majestic because of a spectacular broth, a stock days in the making; it was dense and powerful. The tortellini with duck were perfectly honorable, but it was the consomme that was majestic. I puzzle over the presence of ramazzotti, a popular bitter Italian aperitif. The soup certainly didn't taste of bitter herbs, but perhaps it was an undertone, providing the soup a complexity and power. Or perhaps ramazzotti refers to some esoteric ingredient below the Google radar.

The main course was a well-cooked Sauteed Skate with Paprika Marinated Vegetables. The skate had a lovely breading that seemed to be corn-meal. Together the moist fish and somewhat grainy coating evoked sand and sea. The vegetables were hearty though ordinary, perhaps to be expected in a prix fixe, cooked al dente but without surprise.

The meal concluded with Crispy Fritti Bellissima: Lavender Scented Brioche with Orange Blossom Creme, Chocolate Sauce (not listed on the menu), and a Tangerine Creamsicle Crema Gelato. I found these cream puffs the least compelling of the trio of courses. Part of the problem was technical. Biting into a puff, the cream squirted in a joyous mess. Attempting to dip the pastry in shallow pools of liquid, created more glop. The lavender scent of the brioche was mild, and the chocolate sauce was not dense and dark, but the orange blossom creme was bright and tart. The tangerine creamsicle was, as one might imagine, a somewhat odd - although not entirely unpleasant - conceit.

So often restaurants persuade diners through their prix fixe that their cooking is sallow and pallid. Jovia deserves credit for selecting compelling dishes as loss leaders. Josh DeChellis has acquired a sterling reputation as a rising young chef, first at Sumille and now at Jovia. By demonstrating that meals at Jovia can be frugal and flavorful, he proves himself the diner's friend.

Jovia
135 East 62nd Street (at Lexington Avenue)
Manhattan (Upper East Side)
212-752-6000

Per Se Redux New York City Entry #99

Perhaps the most sincere compliment I can pay Per Se is that I didn't much care for the "Ravigote" Dressing on the White Asparagus.

Earlier I decided not to re-review restaurants (WD-50 has been the sole exception), and did not bring a camera.

Lunch at Per Se is very much like - indeed, precisely like - dinner with the same menus at the same price (a three hour lollapalooza): it is the perfect dinner for those who recent arrivals afraid of the effects of a jetlagged evening.

My compliment is not a back-handed one - Jonathan Benno's other preparations were within hailing distance of perfection. But this sauce, supposedly Velouté with shallots, chives, and tarragon, tasted like an uptown version of a mayonnaise blanketing macaroni salad. The accompaniment, a sunny-side up quail egg in a toasted brioche ring ("Toad in the Hole"), was unpolluted by its partner, and was enchanting.

Given this was lunch, my companion and I selected the "Tasting of Vegetables" (although fruits and vegetables would have been more precise), believing that a lightness of spirit suited the noon hour. As I was forcibly reminded at my last meal at Trotter's, an inspired chef sees vegetables as an opportunity, not a constraint.

I shall contain my euphoric waxing, only noting that if my finest New York meal was at Per Se, my second finest New York meal was at Per Se as well. And I won't tolerate debate over which was which. The service left no cause for complaint.

A brief recap:

Amuse: Black pepper tuile with tomato confit over eggplant caviar. Each element blended superbly and each had a sparkling, noticeable herbal ingredient. Perhaps the first bite of the tuile suggested that the cookie might soon become moist, but beyond that bite the tuile was suitably crisp.

First: Chilled Yellow Pepper Soup with Roasted Sweet Peppers, Niçoise Olives and Rosemary-Infused Extra Virgin Olive Oil. A luminous golden soup with a scoop of peppers and olives as a mix-in. A transcendent soup that combined a sweetness with an herbal twang.

Second: "Dégustation" of Early Summer Melons with Tahitian Vanilla Bean-Scented Fennel Bulb, Sauternes "Gelée" and "Fines Herbes." (Note the quotation marks). The most beautiful dish in the galaxy! What produce and what subtle transformations! Watermelon, honeydew, and some melons whose names were unfamilar. What might Benno do to durian? Perhaps someday we shall learn the answer from a chef who treats aroma as a key to dining.

Third: "Toad in Hole" with Sunny-Side Up Quail Egg, Toasted "Brioche", Garden Mâche, Braised Holland White Asparaus and "Ravigote" Dressing. (Note, again, the quotation marks). As described.

Fourth: "Confit" of New Crop Potatoes with Pickled Pearl Onion Shoots, Garlic Scrapes, Ramps, and Red Onion "Gastrique." Chef, let's kill the "quotation marks." What might Lynne Truss say as we eat shoots and leaves? Yet, not a wasted punctuation mark was to be found on the plate, a display of root vegetables that harkened back to the melon artistry. Perhaps garlic "scrapes" are a bit "precious;" sure am good, though.

Fifth: "Risi e Bisi" with "Carnaroli Risotto Biologico", Sugar Snap Peas, Pea Tendrils and "Parmigiano Reggiano." I'm beaten into submission. (Note to TK: commas in the U.S. are placed inside quotation marks.) Sprinkle your menu with marks, just keep the rice and peas perfect. This sinuous, silky risotto was unworldly. Never stop.

Sixth: Forest Mushroom "Crêpe" with Herb Roasted Hen-of-the-Woods Mushroom and Field Mizuna with Madeira Cream Sauce. Actually a pair of crepes but who is counting? And why so casual with Hen-of-the-Woods, what about "Grifola frondosa" or at least Maitake? Another splendid dish. Which comes first the dense pasta or the crisp fungus? I give credit to the Madeira. This is a dish that is so robust that one believes that Maitake is the other white meat.

Seventh: "Crozier Blue" with Celery Branch, Kumquat "Confiture", (sigh), Tellicherry Pepper Shortbread, Cutting Celery and Balsamic Glaze. The cheese on its shortbread was as pungent and as fungal as the Hen-of-the-Woods, but what amazed was the array of celery and kumquat. A remarkable offering.

Eighth: "Vitre Glacée" with Napa Valley White Verjus "Ice", Red Verjus "Foam", Muscat Grapes and Raisin "Purée." This lovely dessert consisted of a slanting sheet of white verjus ice, just thin enough that it broke with the touch of spoon and melted on the tongue. Below was as spicy and luscious a pool of grape liquid as might be found this side of Napa.

Ninth: I chose to replace the "Black Forest" dessert (six quotation marks for those counting) with a Banana Pepper Tuile with Raspberries, Blackberries, and Berry Sorbet. This dish echoed the elegance of the melon and root vegetables. A tuile for all jobs.

Tenth (a lagniappe): Peach Panna Cotta and Vanilla Bean Creme Brulée, the former a stunning rendition of peaches and cream; the latter shaming the many pretenders whose sugar does not snap, crackle or pop.

What can one say to a restaurant whose greatest need is a proofreader? How about: try me.

Per Se
10 Columbus Circle (Time Warner Building)
Manhattan (Columbus Circle)
212-823-9335

Niche-aclious New York City Entry #98 Chikalicious / Room 4 Dessert

For the past three months I have mused on the emergence of the dessert bar. With the announcement that Sam Mason, the celebrity pastry chef at WD-50, is set to open his own aerie later this year, these sweet spots are reaching critical mass. These bars present a "tasting menu" of small desserts, supplemented with sweet or fortified wine, tea or coffee. The dessert bars are intimate (read: cramped) rooms that bow to the pressures of New York real estate. They are dominated by counters where diners watch the staff prepare the sweets, making the experience a spun-sugar equivalent to a sushi bar. Their iron pastry chefs take center stage. Both Chikalicious in the East Village and Room 4 Dessert in SoHo follow this formula.

I have now eaten at Chikalicious twice and Room 4 Dessert once, and both are satisfying, even if the presentations, while creative, lack the visual and gustatory fireworks of the elaborated creations of our most regal chefs.

Chikalicious, managed by Chef Chika Tillman and her husband Don, conveys a double meaning. A repository of chicklets. The gender ratio evidences girl power. The restaurant with twenty seats, is decorated in shades of white - a granite counter top, leatherette stools, painted brick.

At Chikalicious one receives an amuse, a dessert, and three petit fours. I was particularly impressed by the amuses I received: first, Granny Smith Apple Sorbet over Camomile Gelee and, on my second visit, Frozen Honey Custard over Blackberry Gelee. Chef Chika is partial to gelee and sometimes overuses this preparation, but these two were well-chosen and matched with the frozen dessert, proved less of an amuse than a first course. Chika has a way with fruit, making the meal an airy delight, not a heavy afterthought.

The first dessert was one of the better sweets of the year: Coconut Sorbet on Grapefruit Terrine with Coconut Tuile and Black Pepper Syrup. This was a fearless plate with grapefruit and black pepper syrup droplets. In other hands, it could have faltered, but this night I found it a compelling synthesis of tastes. My second dessert was effective, but less imposing: Strawberry Sorbet with Brown Sugar Panna Cotta and Lemongrass Agar Agar Gelee. One agar would have sufficed. Agar agar (aka agar) is a gelatin from red algae, advertised as the "queen of the jelling agents." Here the rectangles of gelee lacked a strong presence, a jello without punch. The sorbet was luscious, but the strawberry ice and sweet brown sugar panna cotta belonged in different presentations.

The main dessert is followed by a trio of "petit fours" (petit threes?). Chika's marshmallow in coconut is a buoyant sweet, easily swallowed. A pecan sandie and a chocolate chocolate chip cake wedge were both passable. Best among the petit fours were two lapidary tarts: one Key Lime Creme Fraiche, the second Almond Amaretto Cream. Although tiny, these dime-sized dollops contained dollars of joy.

Room 4 Dessert, presided over by the former Cru pastry chef Will Goldfarb is more attuned to the niceties of culinary theory. Whereas Chikalicious might float away on the morning air, Room 4 Dessert is a creation of the long SoHo night. A narrow room in browns and blacks, its dark counter is dramatically accented by orange Murano hanging lamps.

Perhaps R4D is not truly an outpost of molecularism, but Chef Goldfarb plays with ideas as much as food. The wit in the restaurant's moniker is that diners receive a flight of 4 thematic desserts (along with optional wines, liquors, teas, and coffees).

The night of my visit Chef Goldfarb presented a string of four red desserts, an homage to Pierre Gagnaire. When chefs pay homage to role models, one knows that a community of theory is firmly in place.

I selected the "PACK," a tasting menu of pistachio, apricot, cherry, and kirsch, and was pleased by the chef's work. Because Chef Goldfarb is creating on a small scale, none of the items proved miraculous. The cherise confiture consisted of a small jar of very well-made jam. Best was a forceful kirsch sabayon, served over pieces of dried apricot, and nicely combined with the confiture. Strikingly successful was a moist pistachio moelleux, a soft, olive-green cake with pistachio cream. I was less impressed with the apricot sorbet, lacking a potent fruit flavor, but sited elegantly on a bed of crushed almond candy.



Neither Chikalicious nor Room 4 Dessert is yet a destination restaurant, but both provide a lovely evening's close. They are pioneers in a trend that allow nighthawks to get their breakfast sugar fix and spaces for others who do not wish our public evenings to end quite yet.

Chikalicious
203 East 10th Street (at Second Avenue)
Manhattan (East Village)
212-995-9511

Room 4 Dessert
17 Cleveland Place (at Kenmare Street)
Manhattan (SoHo)
212-941-5405

Bukharan Banquet New York City Entry #97 Salute

When a few months ago I had cause to be in Japan for two weeks, each time I took the subway I ached for New York. The brimming diversity of these boroughs is bracing. Every street is a Silk Road, although some, such as 108th Street in Rego Park, are silkier than others. Recently a group of friends and I ventured to Salute to sample kosher Central Asian (Bukharan) cuisine. Since we were ten, a banquet ensued. (There seems to be alternative spellings for Salute - notably Salut - but the menu, signage, and business card allows us to salute Salute).

Although Salute is sometimes billed as an Uzbeki restaurant, the food has Russian accents as well as Central Asian traditions. The restaurant characterizes itself as a "Kosher Restaurant." It is startlingly clean and spacious, not elegant but simple and comfortable without an attempt to claim the authenticity of the steppes. Our waitress hailed from Pinsk, the White Russian town, several thousand miles from Samarkand. Some dishes were Crimean, others Near Eastern, and some such as Herring and Salmon, seemingly Russian; still others, such as kebabs, lagman (noodle soup), and pilaf, were more traditionally central Asian. Some such as khorovak-kebab (Veal Sweetbread Kebabs) were delightful and novel.

Our dinner consisted of simple preparations with some dishes more moist and delicious than others. The jewel of the evening was lagman, a lamb and noodle soup, given surprising flavor by cilantro, cumin, and a sharp taste of anise. The broth was rich and aromatic. The bowl had a distinctive taste that I will long treasure.

Also excellent was a "Asian Pilaf" (sometimes spelled Plov or Palov), a hearty mix of lamb, rice, carrots, chickpeas, and onions. Of course the kebabs - lamb, sweetbreads, salmon, seabass, and vegetable - were admirable, if not remarkable. Good too were cheburekes, thin Crimean meat pies, large golden, flaky moons of fried dough; ochor (marinated mini-eggplants); humus and national bread, looking like a giant bialy. A hard halvah dessert (which I heard as lavs), was sweet and pretty. I was less taken with the marinated mushrooms; pickled cabbage wedge; samsa, a home-made piroshki with too little filling; and a somewhat dry baklava. None were unpleasant, but didn't stand comparison to the best dishes. Throughout dinner we quaffed Borjomi, a popular Georgian water treasured for its distinct alkaline taste of mineral salts.

With the exception of the wonderful Lagman soup, the other dishes are pleasurable and simply made. The sweetbread kebab is unique in my experience, although aside from the startling experience of seeing these organs on a skewer, they were not uniquely tender. Still at under $25/person, a trek to Salute is to demonstrate that the middle of nowhere can be somewhere special.

Salute Kosher Restaurant
63-42 108th Street (at 63rd Road)
Queens (Rego Park)
718-275-6860

Some Things New York City Entry #96 Le Veau d'Or

Any restaurant that has survived in the tumultuous New York restaurant scene for seventy years must have learned a thing or two. And so we come to Le Veau d'Or, a French bistro, opened in 1937, a stone's throw from Bloomingdale (although perhaps Bloomie's was the new kid on the block).

Le Veau d'Or was my parents' favorite restaurant. They dined monthly, and during my adolescence brought me several times a year. It was touching and deeply symbolic of Le Veau d'Or that I could greet several of the same staff after forty years. Robert, the old school maitre d', has lost some hair and some spring in his step, but he might say the same of me. In a real sense it was at Robert's knee that I came to appreciate French cuisine.

Again and again as we reminisced I was counseled, "the place hasn't changed a bit." How true. New York diners judge their eateries by the restrooms, and these tiny closets have not been spruced up since before I last dined. The banquettes are still red leather from bistro central, and the objets d'art on the wall are those etchings that men of a certain age once invited lithesome inamorata to their quarters to inspect. The menu with its classics - Coq au Vin, Vichyssoise, Frog's Legs, Escargot, Baked Meringue - harbors plates that were classic in the interwar years. For certain diners, like my parents, Le Veau d'Or was a welcoming community, classic but never challenging. What might they say of WD-50 and its psychotic antics? Judging by our fellow diners this remains true. Le Veau d'Or has suffered the affront of no longer being rated in Zagat's (the Le Pain Quotidien chain makes the list, as does Starbucks). Yet the restaurant is well-attended on a weeknight by older couples who look for an place where everyone knows their name and which is affordable on a budget (with tax, tip, and wine the three course meal was $60). This means, of course, that Le Veau d'Or has chosen to be straight-jacketed by its market niche.

But how is the food? Slathered in nostalgia. My companions and I ordered classic bistro food, and were we to measure by strict critical standards, this Golden Calf is not fatted. While never offensive, one could taste the rust of time. My Soupe à l'oignon Gratinee does not rely on a rich beef stock, simmering for three days. It tasted warm and wan. The cheese and bread did evoke French farmhouse preparations. The soup was not so different than what one might expect at an rather adequate ocean liner banquet. The pate was dense but not distinguished.



As a main course I selected one of the specials (yes, they have specials, although traditional ones), Sweetbreads with Cream and Mushrooms. The dish was soothing, if a bit mushy, and the mushrooms had surely nestled inside a can; the potatoes au gratin were slightly overcooked, but nicely creamy. The Canard Rôti aux Cerises was a rather tough old bird, napped with a cherry sauce that was sweet without much complexity. (Probably a dish I once ordered on the theory that each course should be dessert). Steamed mussels were not as plump as the sea contains.





Desserts continued the string. My Peche Melba, as classic as bistro cuisine can be, was sweet, but marred by canned peaches and middling vanilla ice cream. Oeufs a la Neige (Floating Islands) was sweet enough, but lacked a divinely light consistency. Best was a intense chocolate mousse that seemed as if it might have been just scraped from egg beaters.



Le Veau d'Or's modestly priced wine list does not list vineyards. One chooses varietals, and hopes for the best. We ordered a buttery Meursault that turned out to be a Clos du Cromin 2003 for $60. The restaurant offered a 1994 Chateau Beychevelle for $110.

As a critic, I must present the restaurant as it might appear to others, but I must confess that despite my complaints, I was gladdened that Le Veau d'Or still serves and has a clientele. The service was occasional, the food passable, and the ambience shadowy, but this was my culinary home. In 1965 Le Veau d'Or was much as it is now, never glittering or accomplished, not Le Grenouille. Perhaps in 1937 it was the same. Some things never change. Yet, dining in the dusky room brought a happiness - a suffused glow - that recognizes that sons can't live on soupe à l'oignon alone.

Le Veau d'Or
129 East 60th Street (at Lexington Avenue)
Manhattan (Midtown)
212-838-8133