Tag Archives: gastropubs
The Beagle
CLOSED
Though we try to get to new NYC restaurants as soon as possible, sometimes it pays to wait. The Beagle, another gastro pub in the vintage British vein, got a lot of press when it opened in the East Village earlier this year, including a review from the Times in which the restaurant was praised for offering some inventive food and cocktail pairings but reprimanded for withholding the wine and beer menu from diners who wanted to make their own choices.
Fast forward to now, when our server immediately pointed out that the wine list was on the table, where she left it for the entirety of the evening. The innovative appetizer and cocktail pairings are still on the menu, but now diners can opt for wine, beer, or a number of food options without any pairings at all. (more…)
Allswell
One of the best things about dining in New York is following the diaspora of kitchen talent from one key restaurant to its contemporaries. April Bloomfield (herself a grad of London’s River Cafe, like Jamie Oliver) has launched several chefs from the seminal gastropub the Spotted Pig, including Nate Smith, formerly of Dean Street and now the proprietor of Allswell in Williamsburg.
Allswell isn’t direct copy, so don’t come here looking for the Spotted Pig II. There are similarities, like the quirky British decor – cutesy mismatched wallpaper (surprisingly feminine for a male-owned pub), exposed wood beams, inexplicable bric a brac, those famously uncomfortable stools, but a bar you could really settle into. The space is populated with patrons who’ve mastered a particular brand of studied cool, like the Spotted Pig before it hit hundreds of guide books. But the menu and the setting feel personal and distinct. (more…)
Posted in British, food, New York restaurants, restaurants, Williamsburg
Tagged April Bloomfield, bars, Brooklyn, gastropubs, New York
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Burger and Barrel
There’s a common misconception that a restaurant has to focus on things like fish, tofu and radishes to attract a female clientele. But what New York women want is often defined by what they don’t want: multiple TVs over the bar, the smell of bleach masking the smell of stale beer, and guys in backwards white baseball caps. But red meat? Most of us are actually fine with that.
Burger and Barrel proves that a restaurant doesn’t have to go on a diet to appeal to women, since we appreciate a good burger just as much as the guys do. We just don’t want to eat one in a crap place. (more…)
Posted in American, food, New York restaurants, restaurants, Soho
Tagged bars, burgers, crab, duck, gastropubs, iceberg wedge salad, New York
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Edi & the Wolf
We weren’t sure what to expect from Edi & the Wolf, a new Austrian place that opened on Avenue C. The stein-pounding din of Zum Schneider across the street? The restrained elegance of Kurt Gutenbrunner’s Wallsé?
Neither, as it turns out. Edi & the Wolf introduces New York diners to a different breed of Austrian restaurant, the type that’s usually attached to a wine cellar and serves typical Austrian fare like schnitzel and spätzle. It’s the brainchild of Eduard Frauneder and Wolfgang Ban of Seäsonal, an Austrian place that was overlooked by many New York critics until it earned a Michelin star. (more…)
Posted in Austrian, East Village, food, German, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged bars, beer, gastropubs, New York, schnitzel, wine bars
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Rye House
Of all the qualities you can manufacture in a new restaurant – flattering lighting, good music, a smoky barbecue smell – the most elusive is fun. The other ingredients can come together perfectly, but if that feeling of good times is missing in the center, the final product can still fall flat.
Rye House in the Flatiron District is a relatively recent addition to the scene, but it already feels like a lot of good times have been had here. This may be largely because of the bar, which dominates a spacious front room and is manned by Lynnette Marrero and Jim Kearns, formerly of Freeman’s. Classic cocktails and a large selection of beer on tap draw in a big after-work crowd of the Park Bar variety – i.e., lots of guys. (more…)
Posted in American, Flatiron District, food, New York restaurants, restaurants, Southern
Tagged bars, beer, gastropubs, New York
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The Lion
The Waverly Inn may be one of the most celeb-packed restaurants in the city, but some of us actually went for the food. Sure, the scene is thrilling – particularly the time that Owen Wilson came out from the back room to mix with us civilians at the bar – but the thing that made the aggravating attitude at the door tolerable was the reward of those flaky, golden, melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. Without fail, they would be plopped down on your table as soon as you sat down, a light at the end of the tunnel.
Turns out I must not be alone, because many patrons of the Waverly Inn have followed chef John DeLucie here to the Lion. Mick Jagger caused a stir on a recent night there, and now the flashbulbs of paparazzi outside the door greet anyone vaguely famous-looking. Alas, the Lion’s democratic touch that enraptured Jay Cheshes at Time Out is already fast disappearing, and you may find waits of two hours or more now for one of those walk-in tables in the front room.
Posted in American, food, Greenwich Village, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged bars, gastropubs, New York
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The Breslin
The Breslin is a restaurant for people who like to eat. That may sound redundant, but given the lengths to which some restaurants go to accommodate picky eaters (an entrée of “steamed vegetables with boiled egg” at one downtown spot comes to mind), the Breslin embraces food with genuine gusto.
Granted, chef April Bloomfield’s British pub fare is extreme cuisine. Bacon-wrapped eggs, stuffed pig’s foot and fried head cheese are all on the menu, should you be craving them. But there’s also sea bass, chicken (aka poussin) and some excellent salads if you’re not a particularly adventurous diner. The menu—and the food—almost seeks to provoke: the “onion and bone marrow soup with parmesan toast” ($10) turns out to be a particularly meaty, velvety riff on French onion soup, with the bone marrow only adding to a beefy flavor that already existed in the original. Tread carefully, but do not be afraid. (more…)
Posted in British, food, New York restaurants, NoMad, restaurants
Tagged April Bloomfield, bars, beef, gastropubs, marrow, New York
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Brinkley’s
Brinkley’s may be new, but this pubby Nolita spot has an old-school preppy vibe, with Steve Miller Band and the Doobie Brothers playing on the stereo. Outfitted with a huge backlit bar, subway-tiled dining room, and horseshoe-shaped banquettes good for parties of six, Brinkley’s draws a similar bankers-and-ex-debs crowd as Southside downstairs.
Still, there’s a downtown edge to the darkly lit space with industrial light fixtures, vintage prints on the wall, and coy wallpaper in the bathrooms with illustrations of farm animal breeds (including an “Improved Tennessee Sheep”). It’s as if your old friend Dorrian grew up, developed some taste in food and decor and moved to a loft downtown. (more…)
Posted in British, food, New York restaurants, NoLita, restaurants
Tagged bars, beef, duck, gastropubs, New York
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Henry Public
If you didn’t know this Cobble Hill space was an old TV repair store until just a couple months ago, you would think new gastro pub Henry Public had been here forever. Past an antique bar, refurbished gas lamps and black and white photos of Frederick Douglass and the old Brooklyn Eagle headquarters hang in the dining room, where the wood paneling and marble fireplace date the room to sometime around the turn of the last century. But this carefully curated mix is actually the result of years of scavenging by owners Jen Albano and Matt Dawson, also the team behind the Brooklyn Social Club, who’ve created an old-timey bar and restaurant that actually feels authentic.
Though it opened just a couple weeks ago, the place was already packed with a mostly local crowd on a recent weekend night. Many were there for the drinks: pre-Prohibition cocktails involving things like egg whites and obscure liqueurs. (more…)
Posted in American, Boerum Hill, food, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged bars, beer, Brooklyn, burgers, fireplaces, gastropubs, New York
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New Spot: The National Restaurant
Rarely do you make the news for not making the news, but that’s just what’s happened with new restaurant The National, which quietly opened over a month ago and is literally off the (Google) map. According to WWD, first-time restauranteurs Julie Dickstein and Jeremy Hogeland wanted to get everything right before alerting the media – unlike so many new places that launch a multi-platform press attack.
Located next to Freeman’s, The National looks like it has a quaint, homey vibe, with antique pieces collected over the span of five years. Chef Zoë Feigenbaum is also a first-timer and graduate of the French Culinary Institute, and is serving up a mostly-seasonal menu that Dickstein describes as “schizophrenic,” because it runs the gamut, Blue Ribbon-like, from Korea to Maine.
So no press, next to Freeman’s, very few seats inside. You know what that means: It’s going to be mobbed.
The National
8 Rivington Street between Chrystie and the Bowery
New York, NY
212-777-2177
Resto
What happens when Frank Bruni leaves the building? Can a restaurant keep its standards high after a positive review, or do they just keep on gettin’ through the gettin’ through? Bruni knighted Resto a “terrific new restaurant” in mid-May. Since his rapturous descriptions of Resto’s hearty, meaty fare appeared at the beginning of a hot summer, Marie Fromage and I waited til fall-ish to sample it.
Resto sits on a quiet stretch of 29th Street, its simple, white-washed and wood-floored interior making it a bare bones but welcoming kind of place, with basic gastro pub decor that echoes the Half King’s on 23rd Street. Like the Half King, in the off hours it can be a good place for a beer and a conversation, but when it fills up, the uncarpeted space can get loud.
Of course, one of the main draws here is the lamb ribs. These were the highlight of Bruni’s review, and they were as much of a cholesterol-laden thrill as promised. Charred on the outside and tender within, rubbed in a Indian spice blend, they were just as meaty and fatty as any rib eater could handle. Served with a yogurt sauce alongside, they tasted like donner kebab elevated to gourmet status.
The Middle Eastern and Asian influences throughout this Belgian restaurant may seem odd, but they’re an accurate reflection of chef Ryan Skeen’s 5 Ninth training and of what European food is now, not a nostalgic view of what it was a couple decades ago. Though you may think of moules frites when you think of Belgium, shawarma is insanely popular there now.
Cuttlefish, which is closely related to squid, arrived in a salad special and provided a nice, lightly acidic counterpart to the meat dishes. Drizzled on the bottom of the plate was a romanesco sauce the Spanish joints in town have taught us to crave. We only wished there was more of it.
Whatever health benefits we gained with the light cuttlefish salad were immediately undercut by the deep fried crispy pork toast lurking under the deviled eggs. These were too heavy even by our fat-seeking standards and overwhelmed the relatively delicate taste of the eggs.
On the other hand, some items were not as indulgently fatty as previously reported. The staff kindly brought us the “tête de cochon” sandwich Bruni chronicled, though it is no longer on the menu. These little pork jowl sandwiches were also kind of “meh” for something dubbed “tête de cochon.” The ratio of meat to bread should be higher for true decadence. Shredded carrots seemed an odd touch, but according to Marie Fromage, carrots are used in almost everything German that requires vegetables.
Whatever the shortcomings of the appetizers, these nibbly bar snacks were better than the entrees, which disappointed after all the Bruni brouhaha. Moules frites with witte ale were nothing to write home about, and the burger was just too small. The burger circumference must be the same as or bigger than the bun; it’s a cardinal rule of burgers. Try serving anything smaller to a child and you’ll get a wail of discontent, which was what we felt. But the fries that came alongside were delicious, especially when dipped in the mayo with onion sauce.
This is not to say that Resto is not worth visiting. On a cool autumn night, there would be few things better than a pint of one of Resto’s many excellent and rare Belgian ales on tap, a platter of lamb ribs and a side of fries devoured at the underused bar. Just don’t come expecting nirvana, because apparently a good Bruni review can be a hard act to follow – especially for the restaurant.
Resto
111 E. 29th Street, between Park Avenue South and Lexington
New York, New York
212-947-3636
Posted in American, food, Gramercy Park, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged beer, burgers, gastropubs, New York
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Angus McIndoe
As any humble (or seemingly humble) actor will tell you, so much of making it in the theater depends on being in the right place at the right time. So I felt especially fortunate when I happened to be at a restaurant on 44th Street when the entire cast of The History Boys stopped in for a pint after their last performance, the one I had just seen, with a television crew trailing behind. Angus McIndoe was exactly the right place to be.
An upscale Scottish pub, Angus McIndoe (pronounced MAC-indoo) was the subject of a Times story when Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane first starred in The Producers. They ate at Angus McIndoe nearly every night, and when Nathan Lane couldn’t make it to the restaurant itself, he ordered in. Whenever Angus McIndoe, the eponymous owner, called to see how Nathan Lane’s meal was, he replied, “Surprisingly good.”
The food is in fact surprisingly good for the theater district, where most restaurants have no qualms about keeping it mediocre, presumably thinking they won’t ever see these damn tourists again. But Angus McIndoe is the sort of place people come to once, then again, then over and over, not just because the food is good – though a little uneven – but because each night there is a frisson of behind-the-scenes excitement. You can almost imagine Eve Harrington stopping by for a drink – or poisoning Bette Davis’. After the shows, many of the stars arrive for a late dinner, and beforehand, the real producers fill the seats.
With all of this hullabaloo, it’s fortunate that wine is always served immediately and as a quartino, so pre-theater diners don’t have to suffer anxiety pangs wondering if they’ll be able to order a second glass of wine before they have to bolt. Upstairs and downstairs are equally entertaining places to sit, depending on the hour – upstairs is better later.
On a preliminary visit for this review, I find the food not as surprisingly good as I remembered, however, perhaps because the kitchen is serving a large private party on the top floor at the same time. The all-day breakfast plate, which has been reliable in the past, doesn’t thrill like the first time. The pork-apricot sausages that sound so good on the menu seem pre-cooked and warmed over, and the “potato scone” prompts my friend to say, “This isn’t a scone. This is fried mashed potatoes.” Overall she pronounces the dish “all right.” The tasting plate, part of the nightly special menu, manages to be uneven all on one plate. The country pork paté with cornichons could be my new favorite, but the smoked salmon is bland and the grilled shrimp smells fishy. The hamburger with Boursin cheese sounds intriguing. There is a little too much Boursin caked on top when it arrives, but it’s a nice combination, and the burger itself is great – ground sirloin with a little Worcestershire sauce thrown in, just to add a touch of Great Britain to the mix.
On another day at lunch with a friend who works for a certain newspaper whose Times Square offices are right above Angus McIndoe, the kitchen is running on an even keel. We have oysters similar to Kumamotos, with the same fluted shell and delicate, sweet taste. The presentation on a bed of chipped ice is very pleasing, though not so for the shrimp cocktail, which is served a plate of rather sad mesclun. Neither of us likes the chipotle dip that comes with the shrimp alongside the usual cocktail sauce, but then again, I am a traditionalist and don’t tend to encourage things like chipotle sauce with shrimp cocktail. We also order chili with our three seafood appetizers, and the waitress doesn’t blink an eye, perhaps assuming we are stoned.
The chili is good, fired under a broiler until the cheddar cheese melts on top, then sprinkled with crispy bits of bacon that really make the dish. It adds the same crunchy texture crackers would, but with the bonus of contributing flavor. The pork chop is not as exciting, and my friend calls it “a little dry.” I blame the matinee ladies. It is Wednesday, after all, and hordes of tourists have just eaten here, probably demanding pork chops cooked to at least 180 degrees Fahrenheit. This chop is a little pink but not alarmingly so. 
I don’t think it’s half bad, but it’s not as good as the pan-roasted free-range chicken, pounded thin like chicken paillard and seared on the outside, juicy within. The mashed potatoes that accompany it are so smooth and buttery I would almost accuse them of being fakes, if they were not Angus McIndoe’s, which, though it is not Irish, does know its potatoes. Any guilt from eating mounds of mashed potatoes can be assuaged by forking up the garlicky sauteed kale served alongside.
The phenomenal steamed mussels with bacon and peas are the pinnacle of the meal, the pinnacle of any of my meals at Angus McIndoe over the years. The mussels themselves are little and sweet, dunked in a creamy sauce flavored by the thin, limp folds of bacon and fresh peas. I devour nearly the entire thing myself and start dreaming of the next Copycat Chef recipe…
The History Boys don’t show up for this meal or for the one before. They come to Angus McIndoe when I’m there by chance, because we’re looking for a good place to have an after-theater drink in the neighborhood, and Angus McIndoe is a good place. It’s this kind of loyalty, almost reflexive at times, that can pay off in the theater district, where sometimes kismet is of your own making.
Angus McIndoe
258 West 44th Street
between Eighth Avenue and Broadway
212-221-9222
Corrections amended: A Mr. McIndoe wrote in to inform this geographically-challenged American that Angus McIndoe is in fact Scottish, not Irish, which I would have realized had I carefully reread the Times article cited. Therefore, some phrasing in this review has been changed from “Irish” to “Scottish,” “of or belonging to Great Britain,” or simply “not Irish.” Gastro Chic is horribly embarrassed by the error.
Posted in British, food, Midtown West, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged burgers, gastropubs, New York, seafood
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