the one single plate of zucchini strips that hooked me in
Before I go onto the clear and present purpose of this post, I need to wander through a little philosophical discussion that is most pertinent to my conclusions here……… Let me just say that I’m no food-grading aficionado. I’m just a person who loves finding great food and then savoring all there is to know and enjoy about it. And, in today’s overly crammed and confused landscape of offerings, over hill and dale, across oceans, and, even in the great Gotham, you can, if you want to, find a spot that nestles satisfyingly close to home, in your heart and on your palate.
So, here goes: To me, the selection process of dining establishments is the most fickle of on-going obsessions, the world over. Just take a look at the volumes of food journalism jamming the internet and bookshelves alike. One day you might be pointedly fixated on one particular spot and the expertise of one particular deep and talented kitchen staff. The next you might be darting into doorways in a far off village outpost such as in Aups, France (https://kitchen-inspirational.com/2015/10/14/venturing-out-from-tourtour-saint-tropez-aups-villecroze/) willing to randomly sample the offerings of the tiniest of local kitchens.
Here in New York, the dance couldn’t be more complicated or fraught with the tempermental. On any given day there are literally thousands of options to try, and that’s just in Manhattan. Taking a snapshot of the landscape at any given moment, you’ll see spots are simultaneously on the upswing, sagging, on their way in or out, in conception stage or contemplating throwing in the towel. It’s perennial. The fruits of this process often cause great distress, even tears, or optimism and dreams-come-true bright and cheery beginnings. Very, very few restaurants sustain at that high level of proficiency that is so clearly elusive that its secrets are coveted at the highest levels. The mental registering of “Wow, I’m coming back here”, lurks in the hearts of dreaming entrepreneurs and imaginative and driven chefs on corner after corner. This instantaneous snapshot is in fact a metaphor for the world at large, in constant flux with the visions of talents of the future tightly juxtaposed with those who have become exhausted and washed out by the vain vagaries of wandering, undefinable palate trends.
You’ll notice here the intentional omitting of the word “scene”. I don’t subscribe to the “scene” scene. Rather, for me the task at hand is more that of the independent navigator, for I am looking out for my own definition of alluring and satisfying places to eat.
To me, eating in New York, as is anywhere actually, is a very personal experience, and hence, my philosophy generally runs contrary to mentioning a particular restaurant here on my blog – in fact, as I quickly approach the 5th anniversary of this writing expedition of sorts, I have mentioned particular restaurants barely a handful of times. I feel, and strongly, that what I like is not going to be what you may like or be looking for and my own priorities are, by definition, more than likely to be different than yours.
Some people who hit NY want to be able to say they ate at a certain restaurant – it’s bragging rights if not bonafide food interest – the “I have sampled this or that celebratory chef’s food, some who come from other cities or countries come with their own particular lists of destinations to sample – a virtual “to do” for those disposed to the “checking-off the list” syndrome. Chefs everywhere both covet and loathe the perpetual flow of “tourists”, those who sadly get the worst of raps in the food world, the label blindly implying ignorance, the level of which draws out the food snob in many a creator. Proprietors, investors, the creative and in service staff all perform this elaborate dance, in lure of the diner, and are often left in a heap of exhaustion and despair, fraught with all their attempts at luring in a full house only to be beset with the exact same challenge again tomorrow. To me, it is indeed amazing that so many, many are willing to try to win at this cause, the odds of which appear to approach those of the lottery.
All in all, for me, I like, in fact seek, the personal journey and somewhat more random approach to finding a place that I will return to, over and over. My list is therefore not going to be what you’ll find on the high-anxiety lister’s list. I’m interested in the restauranteur’s approach to their creation. I want to sense a relaxed and happy participant that’s in the creation of their whole little outlet in the big city – that ever elusive needle in a haystack that’s not trying too hard as to change the energy from welcoming to on-edge.
I’ll give you a few examples of my experiences. Right about now, I hold a just a few spots in high esteem.
First, let me say that I tend to be a traditionalist vs a cutting-edge person. I’m not into the molecular, sci-fi or futuristic approach to food. I am more into the enhanced-flavor, good-looking, fresh-tasting and exceptionally well done approach to items others would probably call yes, basic or classics, done to perfection. I abhor stuffy and stiff and I don’t want fussy either.
Some restaurants that tend to show up on the list of best of the bests I have been disappointed in. I’m not averse to scanning the rating systems that exist out there for restaurants. But, I will say, if I see a rating for food of 4.8 or so, I’m carrying big expectations when I step in the door. And, I’m not there for a show, I’m there, in the final analysis, for the food.
Here are my absolute non-negotiables: the restaurant has to be clean – both looking and feeling – this is top to bottom and front to back. Recently, when returning from the restroom I happened upon the staff of a top-rated West Village bistro uncovering and smelling a plate of dessert that had been removed from the fridge. This was a disturbing sight and, regardless of their reputation, I’m not going back. I didn’t like the food anyway.
The staff shouldn’t look like they’ve just rolled in from an overnight bender. They shouldn’t have the attitude that they’re doing you a big favor by waiting on you. All of these will automatically register “not coming back” in my head.
It’s very difficult to live up to one’s reputation day in and day out, isn’t it? For me, a restaurant shouldn’t look and feel like it is trying too hard. This is why I will typically avoid most places where the moniker of “world’s best chef” has been suggested or laid down. This has “showtime” written all over it. Don’t get me wrong, some people enjoy this and like to see performance-food experiences. I don’t. I want relaxed, professional, competent palate and dishes executed at a high level. Generally speaking I’m there to converse with my own companions, not grow a client relationship with the wait staff.
A few weeks ago I read an article in the Times about the goings on leading up to the replacement of the Four Seasons’ restaurant being brought to you by Carbone’s Major Food Group. The article, to me, was a wave off. (And, don’t get me wrong I love Carbone.) It seemed to me that the chefs were trying too hard to perfect each and every palate receptor rather than to create an essence. I found myself hoping that the forthcoming experience would turn out to be much different than what the article implied. I’d hate to be left thinking the outgrowth was less of someone’s keen instinct and lithe spirit and more of someone’s micro-managing, calculated formula. Leave the algorithms on Wall Street if you have to have them. To me, they don’t work in food, where the impetus behind great dishes should be feeling.
Now, I’m one of those aging dinosaurs that actually liked the Four Seasons the way it was and was sad that it would be let go. It was a classic with classic, not over-orchestrated dishes. It was an iconic spot that should have been left alone, fine-tuned and spruced up a bit here and there but not radically changed or evaporated. It’s patina was its gift. New York has far too few of these iconic spots to be allowing them to disappear. For me, every great city needs to have its own great forever-spots that you can depend on, that give comfort in continuity, that tell you they’ll always be there no matter what. The forward trend is for the stretching out in front in the expression of new ideas, an important part of the continuum, the moving target – but, not at the expense of the great classics – so says I.
Some of my very favorite food experiences have been completely random, as mentioned above. For example, when walking through Avignon on a cool October early evening, reluctantly returning to the car but not without a growling tummy, we happened upon the Hotel D’Europe. The streetscape was so inviting , there in the twilight of this magical outpost, that we were immediately drawn in, first into the courtyard and then into the lobby. We decided to inquire about dining. It was Sunday and the restaurant was closed we were sadly informed, but we were graciously invited to have an informal supper in the bar. There we were served the most memorable butternut squash soup and yes, wait, a chicken club sandwich. I know, but, that was one of my most shockingly delicious meals ever. Totally unexpected, completely simple and truly sublime.
Well, onward to the task at hand here. The relatively short list of other City offerings that I’m presently enamored with include the perennial favorite Gotham Bar and Grill, where I always walk out wondering in awe, how they’ve done it so well, for so long. I am in love with the dining space at Lincoln Center known as The Grand Tier, where you can sit and bask…. sun yourself in the exquisitely-lit platform, dine well and watch the otherworldly, age-defying cultured intelligencia (present company excluded) happily anticipate the next performance of the opera. Or, I often step into the randomly yet positively-successful City Bakery to inhale and study the Flatiron’s day-in, day-out space of cafeteria-style success-in-bustle. These reside right up there with other perennial favorites like Minetta Tavern’s burgers and Mercer Kitchen’s Spring Pea and Butternut Squash soups and Steamed Shrimp Salad.
Friday night’s bar scene – comforting Ranunculus and affirming contentment
Well, that is all a very long but necessary lead-up to my discussion of Sessanta in SOHO. Let me just begin by saying it is always a double-edged sword for me to step into what has been labeled, inaccurately by the way, by some as a “red sauce” Italian restaurant on the internet. I carry with me more than my fair share of home grown experience in the genre of the Italian classical cooking and I consider my palate in this regard to be highly judgmental and unapologetically prejudiced. You have to be pretty darned good to get me in the door and then I probably come with an “I’m not going to expect too much here attitude.”
Here on the quiet, mostly you-have-to-look-for-the-location on this sort of out of the stream SOHO location, Sessanta is the perfect combination of a relaxing but vibrant experience with really, really well-executed and very, very fresh-tasting food. And, I found myself musing, the mental picture of a cartoon cloud strung up above my little old head, caption saying, “can the simplest of green salads ever really be a game changer?” So, you won’t get bustled off the sidewalk in this quiet section of SOHO, but you will find a great meal. As I’ve carefully observed, this is the perfect spot to sit alone and have an hour-long coffee or cocktail, to meet friends in the front or at the bar, to rendezvous with business associates for lunch or at the end of a busy day, have a Sunday lunch or to have a cozy and most-comforting dinner on a Friday (or any) evening with your friends and/or family.
the Sessanta Baby Lettuces salad – game changer
To me, this is one of the perfect SOHO hotel bar/restaurant experiences, residing comfortably and comfortingly in the Sixty Thompson Hotel.* This may set one up for comparisons to all the other offerings in the genre of downtown’s hotel-based restaurant melange, all of which are meant to participate in the rise-to-the-challenge against the often-dated and low food expectations of those classic midtown spots. Anyway, I ate here for the first time in December and have been back since then several times.
I actually wound up here the first time by accident. I booked this spot after mixing it up with a spot my daughter had had brunch at with a friend and told me to try. So, here I was having lunch with a good friend in the enclosed sidewalk cafe room, hoping it was going to turn out ok. All seemed to be well in this comforting, low key yet sleek spot, completely befitting the SOHO hotel experience.
On that day, we were first offered as an amuse bouche, a small portion of their zucchini carpaccio. For me, this is the perfectly-crafted palate-waking symphony of flavors. I thought, anyone who can elevate mandoline-slices of this most bland of vegetables to a sparkler such as this is a talent I want to investigate. I was immediately impressed. Next came that Baby Lettuces salad. Here was one of the simplest, freshest and most satisfying appetizer salads I have ever eaten. Sparklingly-fresh greens topped with the lightest spritzing of vinaigrette and crunchy macona almonds – could this possibly be exciting? (my head was running this up against a sad salad I’d had at that same 4.8 West Village bistro – um, not even on the same planet). Yum, I wished for more, savoringly and covetingly crunching on my last macona almond and thinking, who scrapes the bowl of a green salad?
Then I had the Veal Meatballs. Now, I consider myself to be more than really picky about meatballs. My Mom’s meatballs have always been my favorite and I always sample anyone else’s with great hesitation and low expectations. I’ve been exposed to some pretty exceptional meatballs in my own family and in and around my travels – having the blood of my markedly-talented grandmothers and Mom coursing through my veins. But, I was going for a light lunch and that day the salad and an appetizer dish of meatballs seemed to fit the bill – couldn’t hurt, right? All I can tell you was that my first bite yielded a “these are better than mine” registering of ding-ding-ding! I have never even thought this before. So, if you can judge a restaurant by their amuse bouche, their simple green salad and a dish of a couple of meatballs, I say, you have a find on your hands, or on your palate. Ok, so off I went but not without the idea, I want to come back here and show this spot to others.
To make a long story short, I have been back here for lunch several more times and for dinner now twice. I’ve also had the chicken paillard a few times, the Eggplant Parm and the Hangar Steak entrees – all I would repeat with no hesitation. On Friday evening I was lucky enough to get to chat with the Executive Chef, Paul DeBari. I just wanted to have an opportunity to tell him that I really liked his food and somehow convey that I “get” that his dishes each have that certainty of “high note”, the obvious opposite of flat and common that can sadly sneak into many an Italian menu setting where we often return out of nostalgia or complacency.
He was friendly and unassuming and happy but reserved in discussing his food. His savory palate, in imagination and execution is at an exemplary level, and for me, he’s won the prize – I’ll find myself, when wanting a really good meal, returning to his spot over and over again. And, this is when I have the choice of any restaurant in Manhattan. That, for me says something.
In the near everyday discussion in our household and family of where do you want to eat, I’m game for the hour drive to dine here. And, I commend Chef DeBari for his great palate and execution. I’ll be dining here happily and often. This is comfortingly dependable and great food. This is one thing I want in a restaurant – to know I can return here over and over and I won’t be disappointed. These meals come without the cutting edge-high anxiety I sensed in the menu development for the new Four Seasons’ location replacement, but this isn’t what I want. I want to have a perfectly-executed, even surprising meal in a comforting space – overall an experience that registers as memorable. Kudos and happy thanks are in order here. This is beyond well-done.
*I also like the Crosby Street Hotel and Mercer Kitchen a lot, too.