New York Report #2
Three new restaurants and a trip to the Meta office for gelato
Another long weekend, another trip to NYC. I had my usual short list of restaurants and set reminders to alert me when resys opened. I secured Thursday at Eel Bar, Friday (Valentine’s Day) at Bridges, and Saturday at Borgo. I won’t elaborate on our lunches - Veselka, Gem Home, Ceres Pizza, Bar Oliver - but recommend all four if you are in Lower Manhattan.
First, our visit to Meta. The most fun I’ve had this year. A close friend of ours works as a designer for Instagram. We visited her for a tour of Meta’s massive office at 770 Broadway. It was hilarious, fascinating, dare I say exhilarating. Particularly given Zuck’s new villain era, we couldn’t have lucked into a better time to visit. I signed a form before entering, so I won’t go into details for fear of a drone showing up at my bedroom window, but I will say this: Meta serves the best gelato I’ve eaten outside of Italy, with honey from its own bees. That’s right, Zuck owns bees, and those bees make gelato for his employees. I wonder how this aligns with his new masculinity campaign. Likely better than his perm.
We tried the honey, peanut butter and jelly, yuzu, sesame, and matcha gelato. All fantastic. I also enjoyed iced teas from the many beverage coolers and stuffed snacks into my purse. We asked our friend if we could return to the office for breakfast the following day (“no”). I asked security on the way out if I could keep my guest badge as a souvenir. Also no.
Eel Bar, Lower East Side
If you read New York Report #1, you may remember me saying I like to visit Via Carota for my first meal in New York because it feels safe and eases me into the pace of the city. Eel Bar is the opposite. The scene could not have been more Lower East Side: young, hot, cool in the seemingly effortless but in reality meticulously curated way I appreciate when I’m in a good mood and find obnoxious when I just disembarked a four hour train ride after a long work week.
The place was popping, the interior sexy, the food yummy, and the people stylish. Grub Street reported that it feels more like a bar that serves food than a restaurant that serves drinks. I agree, which is why I recommend it for a walk-in/eat at the bar experience instead of making a reservation for a table. Sit at the bar solo or with someone you want to share food with and sip vermouth over a variety of deliciously oily Basque dishes.
We began with two of the prepared vermouths and pickled cucumber and anchovy gildas, shrimp and piparra skewers, fried mussels on the half shell, and marinated mushrooms and boquerones (anchovies). I can’t believe, with how much eating I’ve done in Boston and on Cape Cod, that I’ve never before had fried mussels on the half shell. It was all the pleasure of mussels without the mess. The gremolata on the mushrooms was addicting, the kind we keep in our fridge and scoop onto everything, but better. Both the gildas and shrimp skewers were good, although the shrimp had the edge - more interesting, coated in a mystery white sauce (the American dream) that JP remembers as having horseradish in it, but I’m not sure. I need to take better notes.
Two more vermouths, and onto our main - pork loin with Spanish lentils - and two sides - escarole hearts with garrotxa (translation: a chicory salad with Catalan goat cheese) and fries with mayo. I’m going to be bold and say this is one of the better restaurant salads I’ve had, and worth the trip to Eel Bar in its own right. Fresh, seasonal, huge, with limited toppings and a timeless vinaigrette.
The pork was dry (as it almost always is) but the sauce with lentils and green olives helped a lot, and it worked in its entirety. The fries and mayo were great the way fries and mayo are - you know, you’ve had them, you love them.
Bridges, Chinatown
The best food of the weekend, certainly of the year so far, and my guess is that will hold for some time (at least until I visit Mexico in the spring). I’m rarely left baffled by a dish, but Bridges had me on several.
The interior is gorgeous and very of the moment - New York designer Billy Cotton used art deco, futurist, and brutalist references. I say “of the moment” because of its alignment with the ongoing vibe shift that Sean Monahan (8Ball) recently named “the boom boom aesthetic” - characterized as a return to the aesthetics and ideals of more opulent decades (think 20s, 50s, 80s). In the case of Bridges, Cotton’s blending of art deco (20s) and brutalism (50s), combined with a “dark mode” futurism, fits the boom boom bill.
We were a cocktail in by the time we arrived at Bridges (I can never resist the hotel bar), and had heard outstanding things about the wine program, so we ordered a bottle of white at the guidance of the very cool somm, who took care to ask us all the right questions. She was lovely, as was the wine. We ordered the sardines with pickled persimmon, Kabocha squash and dandelion with Brabander (a Dutch goat cheese), everyone’s favorite Comté tart with Périgord truffles, the grilled king crab with lime leaf and daikon, and the roast duck with broccoli leaf and chili.
The sardines were as beautiful as they were tasty. Remarkable fish, large for their kind and resting on top of persimmon and toast, which provided an easy bite and complement to the quality of the fish. The dish is strikingly simple in appearance but is in reality difficult to execute at such a high level, and sets the tone for the meal.
The Comté tart lived up to its fame. I was so close to asking for another slice. It struck that rare, very French balance of being rich but light, with a short-crust that I could have eaten all day. The truffle topping was generous, the mushroom and cheese so well suited. We turned what should have been the last bite into five more, not wanting it to end.
The king crab, like the sardines, looked simple but was anything but - the meat was grilled lightly so it was delicate but smoky and the shell was pre-cracked, resulting in all the pleasure of presentation without the work. The lime leaf in the oil, the daikon, and of course the buttery sauce made the crab one of the most exciting flavor experiences of the weekend. We devoured it in silence, broken by the occasional '“wow.”
The duck was also flawless but more familiar, and as such a nice way to end the meal. Tender, paired with a potato puree and what I can most easily compare to a chili crisp, it proved that Bridges excels further down the menu in addition to seafood (and the glorious tart). We rounded it all off with the most complex sorbet dish I’ve ever eaten - by this point I was so tipsy and sleepy that I’m not even sure what exactly was in it, other than a delightfully potent rhubarb. See the photo, and most importantly trust Bridges.
Borgo, Midtown South
If Bridges took the award for the food, Borgo (from restaurateur Andrew Tarlow) took the award for the experience. It is the essence of restaurant. MFK Fisher (legendary American food writer, please read The Art of Eating) insists the perfect number of people for dining out is two. I agree, except for in the case of the rare (these days) restaurant like Borgo.
Borgo makes you feel like a grown up, part of the resurgence of the white tablecloth restaurant, which Food Hag readers know I am excited about and which Grub Street covered last month. Borgo’s tables are generously spaced out (no shouting over neighboring diners or playing musical chairs to go to the bathroom), the service is professional, and the food can be shared but you can also order your own main dish. It is revolutionary not to have a 22-year-old recite the “tapas-style” speech. We’re tired. Borgo is a reset.
Four of us dined at Borgo on a Saturday from 8-11 PM. We drank martinis from the martini cart, enjoyed three courses (ten dishes in total), drank two bottles of wine recommended by Lee Campbell, had our espresso, and were the final customers out the door. It was wonderful. I would recommend it to anyone who likes restaurants and knows how to eat at them.
After the modern, relatively clinical interiors of Eel Bar and Bridges, Borgo’s wainscot paneling, fireplace, and low ceiling were welcome. The mostly-Italian menu is approachable but not predictable. Highlights were the Focaccia Borgo (a delicate flatbread with cheese in the middle), fava purée, fettuccine ragù, chicken marsala (a real marsala sauce, not goopy brown), braciole with polenta, and the rhubarb tart, which I believe was a special. Hillary loved her pistachio affogato.
Corral three friends, reserve a table at Borgo, and order as much as you can. Share most of it, but don’t be afraid to reserve a pasta for yourself. Let the brilliant somm guide your wine selection. Order the Martini No. 4 (Four Pillars Olive Leaf Gin, Equipos Navazos Fino Sherry, House Fennel Bitters, Pickled Onion) and watch as the gleaming martini cart rolls up to your table and a charming young man makes your drink, table side. It’s the best $25 you’ll spend on a martini. Maybe even $26. I can’t remember, and I don’t care.
