e a t e r y R O W

HARDING'S

32 East 21st Street

New York, NY 10010

(212) 600-2105

Upscale casual American food, blended with a cocktail-heavy bar menu has become a defining characteristic in this generation of dining out in the city. Bistros aren't as plentiful as I feel that they used to be. Gastropubs haven't fully taken root in New York yet. Steakhouses are for wealthy old people and the people trying to be in their will. "Family style" is usually code for "we serve the same thing you can make at home with a jar of Ragu." Harding's, in Flatiron, is the upscale casual American place I decided to take Myna to for no reason and it embodies the role in consummationem.

Walking in, one is well advised to dress like someone in their 30s who receives more than their fair share of Restoration Hardware and Design Within Reach catalogs. Jeans are fine, but I don't think I saw a single t-shirt (that guy in the photo is wearing a polo.... I checked). Vintage-style chandeliers, exposed brick walls with little to no artwork, a vaulted tin ceiling, cast-iron balcony fencing, and chairs and tables that look like they were stolen from the ballroom of a haunted mansion complete the look, subliminally telling you to order a sazerac, "and don't skimp on the bitters". 

I arrived a good half hour earlier than both my reservation and Myna, so I sat at the bar with a drink and worked on a crossword puzzle to kill time. Eventually, Myna arrived, filled in some empty squares for me, and we got a table. P.S., small diversion. I loaned my camera to Bro and haven't gotten it back yet. So, having only a camera phone camera, they didn't come out too good and I tossed most of them. Sucks. Anyway.

Myna started with the Fig Toast, a very delightful layering of warm whipped goat cheese, mission figs, and rosemary honey over what you would be correct in guessing was toasted bread. I tried making a similar dish at a dinner party last month and this was far better. Myna was irked that that the toast was as charred as it was, but it was a helluva lot better that the slop I tried to pass off as food. The rosemary honey was a nice touch. I ordered the Cauliflower Soup, made with basil and pepper. It was fantastic. Creamy without being too creamy and with a more suitable hint of char from the roasting of the cauliflower before being pureed. I'm not just saying that it was great because it was freezing out and therefore all soup is good. I genuinely suggest you order this when you go.

Come entree-time, I went with the Berkshire Pork, an herb roasted tenderloin served with cider braised savoy cabbage, pork belly, and an apple mayonnaise. The pork tenderloin was excellent and pork dishes almost never really wow me. I liked the little bit of pork belly, but there wasn't enough of it and there was way way too much cabbage, which was far far too sour. I don't want to sound overly negative because it wasn't bad bad at all, but I doubt I'd get the dish again (although, it was pretty low carb). Myna tried the Icelandic Cod, which was served with littleneck clams, applewood smoked bacon, charred baby onion, and crispy grilled fennel. Then, over that, they poured New England clam chowder. The fish was well made and tender and I liked the addition of the fennel. Soaking the dish in clam chowder might make it a bit rich for some tastes and, though both Myna and I thought it worked well, it will be filling. So don't load up on bread, even if it's burned bread with fig and goat cheese.

Up until this point, we were pretty much pleased with everything. So it was natural to give dessert a whirl and the Lemon Cheesecake with a spiced port cranberry glaze and a candied orange seemed like a good choice. Alas, 'twas not to be, for when yonder choice came hither thus didst we wisheth upon our plate a lava cake in its stead. Forgetting that I couldn't find any candied orange, and then forgetting that there was so much cranberry glaze that you could barely taste anything but said glaze, and the forgetting that there was far too little lemon in the lemon cheesecake, this was maybe the most dense dessert I've ever had. Banish any expectations of a creamy, velvety, pudding-smooth texture rolling across your tongue. Picture instead half-cured cement. See the photo? That fork stayed like that, at an angle, until I pulled it free, for five photos and a refill of coffee.

In the end, Myna and I had a very good time and enjoyed mostly very good food. Yes, there were some misses here and there, but mostly hits. The pours of wine they gave were quite large, the atmosphere was energetic (though whether that was a function of the customers having to be louder than the music is up for debate), and the cocktail menu was a good one. The service was, unfortunately, extremely slow. I don't mean that the service was a little slow and am exaggerating for effect because it's more interesting. I mean, "wow, they're sure taking their sweet-assed time" slow. So heads up to all the impatient, crotchety SOBs out there. Harding's may not be for you.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2014 ]

KTCHN

508 West 42nd Street

New York, NY 10036

(212) 868-2999

If you can bring yourself, against all better judgement, to take the Subway to Times Square and head west along 42nd Street, you'll eventually come to The Out Hotel. I never even knew this place existed, but apparently it gets good reviews and is on a list of the world's trendiest hotels. If you walk into the lobby, where a guy at a piano is playing something pretty and turn left, you'll come to KTCHN, a restaurant associated with the hotel in the same way that Olives is associated with the Union Square W. 

The inside is clean and modern with neon backlight, white chairs and clear glass tables. Trendy is the operative word here. The waiters are super skinny and the customers have expensive hair. Before Myna and I walked in, I was worried. "Are we going to be eating in a club?" I thought out loud. I'd been there before. I hate clubesque restaurants. It's why I won't eat at Cafeteria. Screaming at my date went out of fashion once I turned 26.

It was, therefore, quite the pleasant surprise that KTCHN was definitely not the untiss-untiss-untiss experience I was dreading. The host was very nice, the waiter was even nicer, and the food was anything but overpriced bar food with a garnish.

Myna and I chose an assortment of Crostinis to start. The Duck Confit with Blueberry Chutney was the weakest of the crostinis. The duck was too bitter and the blueberry was too concentrated. I applaud the effort, but if I were you, I'd skip this. On the other hand, the Avocado and Shrimp Salad was delicious. I hosted a dinner party a few weeks ago and this was everything I wish I could have served as a teaser (I made a mediocre flatbread). In between meh and perfection, the Brie Cheese and Fig Jam as well as the Nicoise Olive Tapenade with Goat Cheese Mousse were very good versions of the wine bar standards you know and love. You won't regret the selection.

Myna ordered an Iceberg Cross Wedge Salad as a starter. I was a little surprised. This is a girl who can swim two miles nonstop and actively looks forward to triathlon training ordering something I associate with dinner at a suburban chain restaurant. And yet, the salad was pretty good. Iceberg lettuce with an artfully plated assortment of cucumber, avocado, tomato, goat cheese, hard boiled egg, and a light buttermilk dressing. I opted for the Winter Salad, a mix of arugula, endive, gruyere cheese, and candied walnuts under a mustard vinaigrette. I know. Healthy. See what happens when you date a triathlete who turns on the guilt every time you suck down a whole bag of Cheetos and chase it with a growler of Smuttynose IPA?

Sticking with the healthy stuff, I ordered the Mahi Mahi for my entree, steamed in parchment paper with zuchini and citrus. I wanted to really like this, but it was far too sour. The fish was cooked as well as it could have been. The chef simply used too much lemon and being able to taste anything but the citrus was neigh on impossible. In the meantime, Myna chose the Grilled Pork Tenderloin with a side of barley risotto under a cherry wine reduction. This was delicious. And heavy. The pork itself was not a small piece and the volume of risotto was a bit on the excessive side. Still, if you're hungry, here's a good way to end that problem. You'll be stuffed before you know it.

Time for dessert. I ordered the Blueberry Cheesecake which was tasty. It won't beat out Junior's or Veniero's but it's a good solid piece of cheesecake. Myna ordered the Granny Smith Apple Tart, a sort of inside out apple pie type dessert with each paper thin layer of apple twisted and layered beside the one next to it over creme fraiche and a sweet round sugar cookie type "crust". It came with a small scoop of vanilla gelato and a drizzle of caramel and it was fantastic.

The total cost for four crostinis, two salads, two entrees, two desserts, two glasses of wine, and a coffee, plus tax and tip came to $200.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2014 ]

BEST/WORST 2013

This year, once again, the Bests are places I thoroughly insist you go to and the Worsts are places that I don't think deserve your money. I spent a bit more scratch on average this year per-reviewed-meal than in the past, I spent a goodly amount of time out of town, and I ate out a little bit more often at some regular haunts rather than travel around town, so I resolve that in 2014, I will add more diversity to my list of menus. That being the case though, I do plan to eat that Porchetta sandwich more often. I hope that everyone had a great 2013 and will have a great 2014!

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THE BEST

It should come as no shock that, of the meals I've written about this year, that Public would be my pick for restaurant of the year. It did everything right. The right decor, the right attitude, the right staff, an offbeat menu prepared perfectly. It's expensive, no doubt about it, but it's cheaper than many of the other Michelin starred joints, and it's worth every penny.

An amazing beer list and flat-out delicious food are the first reason these guys get "best bar". Now couple that with the fact that it's huge and smack in the middle of Brooklyn and yet manages to feel like the kind of place you'd find in small-town Germany. Some people might find the unending stream of strollers somewhere between surprising and annoying, but in my book, it's all about being a welcoming, neighborhood place. ... that you can get drunk in. ... with the kids.

Why is this the best burger? Are you actually asking me how a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with a quarter pound of beef that uses a glazed doughnut for a bun could be the best burger I ate this year? Hang your head in shame, sir,

It may be on a desolate stretch of Long Island City and the food might not be anything to write home about, but the view! I mean, come on! Go on a nice day, order a cocktail, and sit outside with the skyline stretching as far as the eye can see and you're bound to impress anyone you're with no matter how much they gripe about the trip. And then you'll get laid.

Maybe you have relatives with a few bucks to drop from somewhere over thataway who are in town for a spell and you want to recommend a restaurant that will make them feel like they're eating in a movie but hesitate to go someplace trendy where everyone's either fresh out of college or a $500-an-hour escort. Where every dish comes with its own utensils and waiters randomly arrive with amouse bouches between your courses. Where dining on Central Park West away from the tourist throngs of Columbus Circle in a setting of revered moneyed elegance would be a highlight of their trip. If that sounds like something you'd like to suggest to an aunt or an uncle with perhaps a cough cough hint hint that they could pay for you meal (because you probably can't afford to eat here yourself), then I suggest that you suggest Picholine.

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THE WORST

As I mentioned in my review, Tolani took advantage of myself and my girlfriend by telling everyone who bought an online deal that they were getting two tasting menus for the price of one, and then cut the portions in half. I feel somewhat bad for encouraging no one to eat there and for hoping that they soon close in tearful, heart-wrenching ruin because, even thought they kinda financially raped us, the food itself was very good. Still, they did kinda financially rape us. And rape is, in a very real way, sort of like saying "fuck you".

I still can't believe Paradou, the Meatpacking wine bar/French restaurant was as mediocre as it was. The atmosphere was nice, but that was all it had. Not one dish came out that wasn't half-assed in some way. And then, after everything stunk, they gave us a bill. Some people. Geez.

If you ever wanted el cheapo Mexican food served to you in a plastic bowl with disposable utensils and prefer paying through the nose for it, then El Mitote on the Upper West Side is for you. Sure you could go to Queens or find a taco truck in Alphabet City and get food that tastes way better for way less, but that requires huddling with the unwashed masses of the F train. You're better than that.

Imagine the bill from expensive seafood restaurant. Now imagine that you're getting that bill at a place that makes Red Lobster look upscale and chic. Now imagine that the food referenced on said bill was all generic fried crap. Now imagine that you spent an hour in traffic on the BQE to get to Red Hook for it. Oof. Yeah. Shitty.