Hot restaurant season is in full swing
My mother has an ear for melons. Growing up, I remember watching in the produce aisle as she thumped each one until she found the right pitch. I never knew what she was listening for. Years later, when I finally asked, she said, “Honestly, you never know until you cut one open.” Restaurants are the same. I spend a lot of time eating at new places, but the challenge is knowing when they’re ripe for a visit. Opening night is too soon, but two months can feel too late (unless you’re a professional restaurant reviewer). As a general rule, I try to wait a month before stopping by, though sometimes I start hearing promising things and curiosity gets the better of me. This fall, I checked in on three of the season’s biggest openings, all a few blocks apart in the Village. (Further proof that Manhattan is back at the center of the restaurant universe). In a few short weeks, they’ve become some of the scarcest reservations in town, but I’ll tell you how I managed to score seats and share some first impressions on the food.
For a perfect fry, call …It could have had something to do with our timing, 5 p.m. on a weeknight, or maybe the host recognized me at the door. (It happens!) Whatever the reason, I scored two seats at Wild Cherry, the restaurant attached to the A24-owned Cherry Lane Theatre, without a reservation. When I think about the chef-owners, Riad Nasr and Lee Hanson of Frenchette, Le Veau d’Or and Le Rock, I think about their French fries: crisp, double-fried beauties that are perfect in just about any dipping situation, from leftover chicken jus to melty soft serve. But the real joy of eating through the Nasr-Hanson restaurant-verse is seeing what else ends up on the table. At Wild Cherry we ordered frog legs “Kiev,” stout drumsticks that erupted with herbed butter, as well as a heaping portion of red beans and rice that nearly justified their $26 price tag. I had heard promising things about the burger, but the bartender steered me toward the lobster club, my favorite dish of the night. After dinner, my friend and I enjoyed dessert and even threw in a small tub of popcorn from the theater. 38 Commerce Street (Bedford Street), West Village
Babbo’s back, all right?I never felt cooler than when I walked into Babbo earlier this month, and recognized several friends scattered throughout the room. There were old colleagues tearing into veal osso buco — they wouldn’t let me pass without trying a spoonful of marrow — and two of my friends sipping bitters and soda at the bar. (I later learned they cost $5 each.) This fall, Babbo reopened and the vibe couldn’t be better. But if I’m being honest, the kitchen seemed to be struggling that night: Not all of our pastas arrived hot. Our bread course was forgotten … and then burned around the edges. And you can’t blame the restaurant for this, but we sat next to the most obnoxious guests: They watched a baseball game on a phone as they passed around an Elf Bar vape like it was a note in class. But it’s early still, and if you look past the current hiccups, Babbo can be charming. I loved the fig leaf tonic, overflowing with fronds, and the roughly chopped carne crudo with potato chips is my ideal version of steak tartare. I didn’t mind the price of the 100-layer lasagna ($100, for four), but I’m unsure about the “Detroit-style” preparation: The pasta is baked with a cheesy crust, clumsily presented table side and then scurried back to the kitchen where it’s cut into pieces. It tastes good enough, but I’m not sure it’s the social media revelation the kitchen thinks it is. 110 Waverly Place (MacDougal Street), Greenwich Village
Chumley’s, Frog Club, Now …The Eighty Six is 4 Charles Prime Rib for a new generation, in that it’s nearly impossible to book a table at this West Village restaurant, run by the owners of the Corner Store. Die-hards from all parts of town start lining up outside as early as 90 minutes before opening in pursuit of walk-in tables. And as far as I can tell, there are anywhere from zero to two of those seats each night. I was turned away after my first attempt — that was a weekday around 4 p.m., when five people beat me there — but this past week I managed to secure two seats at the handsome bar. My friend and I ordered like it was our last meal on Earth: There were plump shrimp with golden cocktail sauce and a nicely textured rib cap steak; a cheese steak on sesame bread and a potpie filled to brimming with creamed corn. There were several sides you won’t mind me leaving out, and a martini you would: At $21, it felt like a total bargain, partially frozen and served with three uniquely flavored olives, including one crowned in caviar. When we eventually pushed back our stools and rolled out the front door, the host waved us out. “See you soon,” she said. “Likewise,” we said, unsure whether we’d ever see the inside of the Eighty Six again. 86 Bedford Street (Barrow Street), West Village A CorrectionLast week’s newsletter, about restaurant dupes, misidentified the owners of Franny’s in Prospect Heights. Andrew Feinberg and Francine Stephens owned Franny’s, not Joe Campanale. Mr. Campanale was a regular at Franny’s and took over the space when it closed to open Fausto. Read past editions of the newsletter here. If you’re enjoying what you’re reading, please consider recommending it to others. They can sign up here. Have New York City restaurant questions? Send us a note here. Follow NYT Food on TikTok and NYT Cooking on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and Pinterest.
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