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Postcard From Tom: Where to eat in New York
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Dessert is cleared, and what looks like a tray of colorful gems -- macarons in such intriguing flavors as candied violet and peanut butter-and-jelly -- is produced. My critic's radar goes off when a bottle of cognac shows up and pours are doled out. "Be sure to put it on my tab," I remind the general manager. "I could," Will Guidara responds, "but this is what we do for everyone here." Sure enough, I spot cognac on other tables in the restaurant, too. "Have as much as you'd like," the suave suit says, leaving the bottle on the table. Without prompting, the bill comes with an envelope containing the labels from the wines we've enjoyed.
My friends and I rub our eyes. We're not dreaming, but dinner at Eleven Madison sure makes it seem so.
11 Madison Ave.; 212-889-0905. http:/
What's good and hot and won't break the bank?
Book a table at Locanda Verde in Tribeca. It's a big, and big-hearted, warehouse space that stars Andrew Carmellini in the kitchen. In years past, he was the reason you put A Voce and Cafe Boulud on your New York dining itinerary. These days, he's serving rustic riffs on Italian food that demonstrate his finesse but don't cost a fortune.
There are antipasti to start, a handful of pastas and entrees to follow, and if you skip dessert, it's your loss. Karen DeMasco, late of Craft, knows her way around sugar, flour and butter. (Her banana-walnut cake with bitter chocolate sauce is divine.)
While you're admiring the way the designers used the walls to store -- and show off -- the restaurant's wine selection, ease in with steak tartare. Carmellini gives it a Piedmontese spin by slipping crushed walnuts and chopped winter truffles into the creamy raw meat, best slathered on the grilled bread that accompanies it. My Grandmother's Ravioli is a valentine to its creator, a fresh wash of tomato sauce and a dusting of Parmesan on delicate squares of meat-filled pasta. "Lucky grandson," I think to myself.
Nice and light: plump roasted scallops brightened with citrus and racy with heat-packing cauliflower, garlic and pignoli nuts. Heartier, but heavenly just the same: shaved lamb and thinly cut peppers packed in a rosemary bun. The sandwich arrives with little logs crafted from chickpeas, lightly crisp outside and creamy within, that threaten your relationship with french fries (because how can you ever go back after tasting these?).
A scoop of blood orange prosecco sorbet tastes true to the fruit. It's a little fizzy and a lot of fun -- just like a meal here.
377 Greenwich St.; 212-925-3797. http:/
Where can I catch a good meal before the show?
When Eduard Frauneder and his business partner were mulling names for their Austrian restaurant, they knew they wanted to avoid the usual Teutonic cliches. Danube was out. So were Blaue Gans and Waltz. In the end, and hoping to change their menus regularly to reflect what they would find in the market, the two chefs settled on Seasonal Restaurant & Weinbar for their 60-seat dining room. It opened two Octobers ago in Midtown within an easy stroll of the Broadway stages.
Narrow and white, the restaurant would be chilly without its vivid accents: birds of paradise at the bar, a rose on each table and espresso-colored leather banquettes. With the very good brown bread comes an echt taste of Austria, a spread of farmers cheese, Hungarian sweet pepper and chives called Liptauer that negates the need for butter and keeps you dipping back for more.
Pace yourself. You'll want to save space for one of the best dishes on the menu, the boiled-beef tafelspitz. Sound staid? Thin slices of tasty flat iron steak are coddled in a bowl of clear golden oxtail broth, an entree trailed by sides of horseradish-spiked applesauce, garlicky creamed spinach and two lacy, coin-size potato cakes, or roesti. The elegant presentation is underscored by the petite portion size, which falls somewhere between a meal for Barbie and one for Grandmother.
That's a compliment, by the way. Frauneder and Wolfgang Ban, both of whom are also employed by the German mission in New York, prove that potato soup and venison tartare don't have to put you to sleep by the second act. They cook with a light and sure touch. What might be the most elegant potato soup I've ever tasted floats marbles of cheese that melt on the tongue and bits of speck, similar to bacon. Dill lends a breezy note; sheer purple potato chips flavored with Parmesan lend a light crunch. That raw venison, also an appetizer, is three or so bites of ruddy pleasure fired up with harissa in the seasoning. In lieu of the traditional raw egg garnish, there are tiny yellow beads formed by poaching, then frying, the yolk. Oddly, the wiener schnitzel is a lesser dish, properly golden and crisp but otherwise suffering from the blahs. Its vinegary potato salad, dilled cucumber salad and tiny pot of lingonberries help you forget that, though. These and other dishes are all offered on Seasonal's terrific lunch deal: three courses for $27.
There's a proper way to eat the aforementioned tafelspitz, says Frauneder, but even the Viennese need time to master getting the beef, the potato and the condiments on a single fork spear. This fan looks forward to practicing his aim at Seasonal.
132 W. 58th St.; 212-957-5550. http:/
