Put On Your Best Dress For Tea At The Lowell

Pembroke Room - The Lowell Hotel - Upper East Side

28 E. 63rd St., New York, NY 10065

Afternoon tea is served between 3pm and 6pm. Reservations recommended.

While still in the single digit years, I insisted upon having tea with my American Girl Doll at Colonial Williamsburg. On my first trip abroad to London I cajoled my father (or rather my mother, whose agenda was the same as mine, cajoled my after) into participating in British High Tea. While in Hong Kong I somehow managed to re-convince my father to partake in afternoon tea, this time in the famous Peninsula Hotel lobby. For my sister's bridal shower, I rounded up the talent of several family friends to throw a spectacularly lavish high tea, complete with crustless finger sandwiches, scones, clotted cream, and an assortment of chocolate-laced desserts. 

I can't put my finger on anything in particular that drives this lifelong interest in tea time. But, then again, why shouldn't I love it? If you don't have another excuse to get gussied up, put on your best dress and head to the Pembroke Room at The Lowell Hotel for a short entrée into elegance and luxury. 

With a pot of chai steeping by my side in a silver kettle, we tackled the three-tiered silver tray of finger sandwiches, tarts, and sweets. Like good girls, we started with our sandwiches before proceeding to "dessert". Once we made it through the cucumber sandwiches and triangular tartines with smoked salmon, it was a mountain of éclairs, berry tarts, iced cakes, and--my favorite--French macarons. 

For nearly three hours my friends and I sipped fine tea from finer china while participating in the age old tradition of social banter (gossip). It was nothing but lovely. 

A Meal At A Circus Never Tasted So Good

Circo - Midtown West
120 W 55th, New York, NY 10019

It's amusing walking into a restaurant in which men in nice suits and women in expensive cocktail dresses politely cut into small bites of lavish meals while sitting against a backdrop of clowns and dancing elephants. 

In Manhattan it would be easy to make a serious affair out of fine dining. From tight ties, to snobby sommeliers, to highly elevated culinary expectations, nice (read: $$$$) restaurants are often straight-laced to attract the high culture crowd. But at Circo, you can eat your hand-made pastas and perfectly seared meats under a circus tent canopy. So, I finally answered the question that I'm sure has been plaguing all of you for ages: fine dining is possible among eclectic sculptures of acrobatic men and whimsical paintings of circus performers.

As mentioned previously, I have had some poor luck picking meals for Restaurant Week specials. However, Circo maintained the utmost quality from starter to dessert. The beautiful beginning included a radiant appetizer of colorful salmon enhanced with citrus zest and topped with a dollop of goat cheese. The tiny red circles? They're red peppercorns. Don't worry, I didn't know what they were, either.

Medium-rare skirt steak followed the salmon. Surprisingly tender for that cut of beef, the strips easily cut into delicate pieces and took little effort to eat thereafter. This made it all the more difficult not to indulge so quickly, and before I was ready to say goodbye the beef was gone.

The only creative weak point in the restaurant's whole performance was in the sweet indulgence at the end. Mint panna cotta and gelato scoops don't pique my interest the same way as a cake, or a pie, or a torte. However, in absolute terms, these little sweets still ended the meal well.

At $38 prix-fixe for Restaurant Week, this dinner felt like a steal. Too bad Restaurant Week ended, otherwise I'd have made reservations at the parent restaurant, Le Cirque, already. 

Went to Butter to Take Advantage of Restaurant Week And Got Taken Advantage of Instead

Butter - Midtown West
70 W 45th St., New York, NY

I'm ashamed to admit that I heard of the restaurant Butter on Gossip Girl. I know that's somewhat unappetizing, but Butter has a good reputation in the city from what I've heard since, so I figured it was worth a shot. Plus, I walk past it on the days I decide to leave my office for food, so my curiosity had grown with every lunch break.

Sitting on a plush couch in the reception area piqued my high hopes. My lunch companion arrived, and the host escorted us past a station of exotic herbs and oils, through a series of dark shadows and heavy daylight cast by the big skylight that carves through the center of the dining atrium. Tall columns and images of oaks furthered the forest theme as we walked under canopy to a booth settled in the shadow. 

Immediately, however, the excitement of such a modern and stunning restaurant dissipated slightly with an awkward encounter with our waiter. A server had brought over rolls and butter, poured us water, and left. A second server--presumably our assigned waiter--demanded to know who had already made up our table. At first we thought the comments constituted an attempt at light humor but soon came to realize the waiter awaited a legitimate response. My lunch buddy didn't think the encounter was so strange until this was compounded with other awkward snippets of conversation we endured throughout the meal. 

The food presented the same turn of expectations. Little bread rolls arrived, dusted with salt. They must have been toasted but left to cool before being served because we were left with stale buns. My starter--an artichoke soup--arrived in a single-serving pitcher. Though individualized, once poured into its tiny rustic bowl, the soup had lost all heat. And while I cut into my spice rubbed pork shoulder, my lunch date frowned upon four mini-ravioli that looked more like a mockery than a meal. 

The whole experience eluded us. Quality lay just beyond our forks and knives, but we never got a bite. I wonder if this was a result of lowering the bar for Restaurant Week. I have heard that Restaurant Week used to be a glut of exceptional fine dining. But over the years, as it has become more commercial, mainstream, and (gasp) touristy, restaurants aren't willing to plate their finest dishes for the cheap crowd that partakes only twice a year. Either way, we went to take advantage of Restaurant Week, but Butter ended up taking advantage of us. 

Braai's Exotic Tapas Do Not Excite

Braai - Hell's Kitchen
329 W. 51st St., New York, NY

Braai's open-air, candle-lit entryway invited us in from off the street. Just a few steps down from the sidewalk we entered a glowing wine bar and prepared ourselves for a relaxing evening of fine dining. A few glances at the décor and menu choices (which included ostrich burgers, chicken liver, and venison carpaccio) and I knew that this must be the sister restaurant to Xai Xai. 

To take advantage of variety, we ordered the five tapas special. As at Xai Xai, the tapas arrive altogether on a large serving platter, and since the restaurant catered to only a few patrons that night, we received our food quickly. 

Everything tasted good, but for a menu as diverse and out-of-the-ordinary as this, dinner felt sadly average. The lightest dish we ordered--venison carpaccio--tasted much like a beef carpaccio with a more delicate texture. Lamb samoosas, the waitress' recommended dish, stood out as the most flavorful, but as they did not arrive hot our excitement was only lukewarm as well. 

Dinner at Xai Xai was nice, but I remember a wave of disappointment washing over me during dessert. So, lest we repeat our own mistake, we cut out sweets for the evening. Thankfully, the five tapas together amounted to a perfect portion for two people, so we left neither stuffed nor hungry. It was too bad we couldn't enjoy the restaurant's atmosphere a bit longer, but having been served so quickly and then skipping out before dessert, our dining experience was brief. I would hesitate to go back and extend it at a later date. Though, I would not be opposed to returning for a glass of wine at their bar. After all, the ambiance was the best part.

Want to Gorge on Brunch That You Won't Regret? Try Miriam.

Miriam Restaurant - Park Slope
79 5th Ave., Brooklyn, NY

I've been valiantly tested in the all-you-can-eat brunch challenge, only to fail with a post-prandial stomach ache. I've laughed my way through all-you-can drink brunches only to be knocked out the rest of the day. In New York, the brunch options are too delectable to pass up, but four eggs and a basket of fries later I often question whether it was worth it.

Miriam takes away the grease and the guilt.

We managed to squeeze into the buzzing restaurant without too much of a wait. On the exposed brick of the Israeli restaurant hung bright Moroccan ceramic plates. The large windows let in all the daylight. It was busy but calm and very pleasant.

The best part about Miriams is there were no regrets. Healthy but a bit decadent--as anything is with a dollop of creme fraiche--and fair price for the freshness, Miriam hit the spot in every way. I was able to pop my poached eggs, soak up the yolk with warm flatbread, and wash everything down with a healthy heap of Israeli salad. Even the one breakfast cocktail I ordered was a success, having taken the waitress' recommendation for a fresh summer beverage. (I find that too often breakfast drinks are either too expensive or too boozy, with the aim to get the drinker so sloshed he forgets how awful the concoction tastes.)

I left full (not overstuffed) and happy. And I plan to do it again.