The Lambs Club

A friend of ours once had a suitor we nicknamed “Dinner in Midtown.” That was what he asked her to do on their first date, and from then on, the prognosis for the relationship was not good. Could anything be less sexy, less likely to lead to a romantic liaison than dinner in Midtown? No.

Little has happened in past ten years of the New York dining scene to change this. Midtown restaurants can be interesting, full of power brokers and good food, or they can be utterly lame, full of frat-guy brokers and Houston’s-esque steakhouse fare. But in either case Midtown restaurants have been consistently unsexy – until now.

The Lambs Club has quietly stolen onto 44th street, just past unfortunate Midtown institutions like Virgil’s and Delmonico’s. The interior is red, black and more red in an interior design nod to the 70s (picture the bathroom in The Shining) with lots of lacquer and indirect lighting. Red leather banquette seating is cozy without being claustrophobic, set in two rings, one inside the other, so that everyone has a good view of the crowd. A huge stone fireplace dominates one wall, vintage photos of various old white guys colonize the other, and Chet Baker croons on the stereo. Very clubby indeed.

In fact, it feels so intimate and insider-y that it seemed like the perfect backdrop for the fashion crowd – but for one problem: there are almost no low-carb, low-fat vegetarian dishes here. Even that side of chard may have bacon fat in it! We did spy NYT Styles columnist Eric Wilson, who just penned the Courtney Love interview that will go down in history, mixing with some other familiar fashion types across the way.

But there’s just too much food here, you see – a lot of it tempting. The meal started with an amuse bouche of raw vegetables with a very Italian lemon, garlic and anchovy dipping sauce. Soft, fluffy bread sprinkled with sesame seeds was served warm out of the oven – too good for any carbophobe to resist.

The foie gras was not equal to but better than most we just sampled in Paris, with notes of cognac, shallots and pepper and silky fattiness all around, topped with a layer of quince jelly. There is attention to detail here, like the toast that was charred just enough to balance the sweetness of the paté. It was still quite pricey at $26. The cost philosophy at the Lambs Club seems to be “If you have to ask….” At least a little Dow-14,000 ebullience feels good after so many years of penny pinching.

Plump pork ravioli ($15) with broccoli rabe and Fiore Sardo pecorino had the crumbliness of pork inside but the smoky depth of pancetta, bathed in a sauce that tasted intensely of caramelized onion.

Note for the commitment-phobic of wallet or those just interested in cocktails: you can also head upstairs to the spacious, tucked away bar area with tables and more banquettes. It offers a less expensive bar menu that includes a very good-looking burger. Here we sampled a Southside, pictured at top, that made us say, “So this is what it’s supposed to taste like.” When made from fresh lime juice and mint as it is here instead of a mix, the classic Southside is an excellent cocktail.

Unfortunately, after our appetizers, the Lambs Club went the way of many other restaurants by dialing down the quality of the entrees. One theory is that chefs don’t bother as much with the entrees anymore because they figure their customers will be so soused by course two that they won’t care what they’re eating. Is this what chef Geoffrey Zakarian was thinking, and is he even in the kitchen when he has several new restaurants opening at the same time? We could still taste, smell, hear, see and touch by course two and were disappointed by a “farm chicken” entree ($26) straight out of Dullsville, which underneath the good vegetables had a flabby surface and an herb sauce that tasted like a whole lotta nothing.

A massive hunk of lamb saddle ($35) came topped with delicious sauce of stewed apples and wilted greens whose flavor did not actually translate to the meat itself, which could have used a good brining, rub – anything. It’s a good reminder of why every recipe for a large hunk of Thanksgiving turkey starts with brining.

Meanwhile, an $8 side of “Martha’s beans and greens” was maddeningly good, cooked down to the consistency of collard greens and infused with the smoky, slightly salty taste of a ham hock. Maddening because it was the best dish of the second course, and it cost only $8.

Service here was confusing at first – no one came upstairs to the bar to tell us that our table was ready. Were we just supposed to guess? But once we were at the table, our server brought us a side of fries from the bar menu when we asked, even though it’s not listed downstairs. Do not trouble your server with this, however, since the fries ($8), greasy on the outside, dry within, are not worth the trip.

The wine list is particularly strong in American wines, with rock stars like Phelps, Ridge, Lewis and Heitz all making a showing. It lacked enough options under $60, though – certainly the Lambs Club wouldn’t be offending the big rollers by offering a few more lower-priced bottles.

How to explain this sudden transplant of sexiness into Midtown? It probably has much to do with Lambs Club partner Jeffrey Jah, who created other moody hot spots like 1oak. The chic crowd has followed him here, and chef Zakarian does a good job of keeping them fed. If you want to feel like you’re in the one hot spot in Midtown and price is no object, the Lambs Club will take you in.

The Lambs Club
132 West 44th Street, between Sixth Avenue and Broadway
New York, NY
212-997-5262
thelambsclub.com

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