A Taste of the Outback is as Close as 79th Street

Burke & Wills - Upper West Side
226 W 79th St., New York, NY 10024

Have you ever had a sudden craving for sweetbreads? Can't say that I have. What about kangaroo? Ever wake up one morning and crave a 'roo burger? Well, at Burke & Wills you can satisfy all the outback cravings you never knew you had.

The restaurant located at the 79th Street subway stop on Manhattan's Upper West Side isn't exotic in name or even decor. The small drawings and maps hanging on the wall are the only indications that the restaurant serves Australian fare.

Below the restaurant's skylight, we nestled into our two-person table against the wall and cracked open the leather menu to look for the typical one-page insert detailing the options for Restaurant Week. One did not exist. Instead, the waiter informed us that we could select from the regular menu--one appetizer, one entrée, one dessert each. Nothing was off limits, though a few items did explicitly indicate a $5 or $10 additional charge.

Justifying the additional $5 charge (when have I ever seen kangaroo on a menu?) I ordered the kangaroo loin to start, followed by the spiced duck breast, finishing with a warm chocolate cake. My Restaurant Week partner in crime ordered veal sweetbreads to start, and then enjoyed his kanga-experience in burger form for the main course. For dessert he had the affogato.

Circo Combines Circus Whimsy With Fine Cuisine

What kind of place is Circo? It's a place to get a great meal, as I've already mentioned. But the restaurant has more depth than that. On a LivingSocial deal that felt like a hand-picked, secret discount just for us, we went back just a few nights ago to try it again. It didn't disappoint.

Circo is the kind of place where you can enjoy a beautiful meal outside watching passersby.

Circo is the kind of place that replaces your bread and water, rather than bringing in the "old" setting, when you move indoors due to the rain.

Circo is the kind of place where the Captain comes by to apologize for the rain--as if it were his fault.

Circo is the kind of place where a waiter comes by to fold your napkin in a point when you get up from your seat.

Circo is the kind of place that surprises you with a free sampling of red wine soaked cipollini onions when you show particular interest in the preparation. We are very happy when people really enjoy our food, they say.

Circo is the kind of place that gives you a free taste of Cointreau when you ask what type of liqueur you detect in the panna cotta.

Circo is the kind of place where the whimsy of the circus meets the gravitas of fine cuisine.

Yet Another Disappointing Restaurant Week Meal At Arlington Club

Arlington Club - Upper East Side
1032 Lexington Ave (Between 73rd and 74th)
New York, NY 10022

• Food: Sadly below expectations.
• Service: Prompt and friendly.
• Ambiance: Dim, quiet, with a Gentleman's club flare (minus the cigar smell). 
• Value: Ironically low, given Restaurant Week deals. 

Restaurant Week, the twice yearly New York celebration that brings high-class (high cost) food to the masses, makes me tingle with anticipation. I look forward to these few weeks a year when I can justify dining at some of the city's finest restaurants. Yet, it seems to let me down more often than not. There were a few superb meals--Circo, Perry Street, and Brasserie among them--but other restaurants seem to have a reduction in quality that surpasses the reduction in price. Arlington Club, a mix between a Good 'Ol Boys club and a pub, won the first spot on our Restaurant Week list.

The restaurant mustered the creativity to serve not table bread but rather popovers the size of pomelos. Breaking through the crusty exterior to the doughy bread beneath became more rewarding still when we were able to slather whipped butter over each bite. What was hard to swallow was that I grew up eating lighter yet richer popovers in the tiny town of Rutland, Vermont. Was it that a Zagat-rated restaurant in America's culinary epicenter couldn't top Rutland's popovers--or was it that even the popovers get a downgrade during Restaurant Week?

Appetizers of french onion soup and a tuna tartare arrived promptly. With cheese seared to a golden brown and bread that still had some crunch despite being drowned in soup, the former was a hit. However, the tuna tartare--while good--reminded me of the tuna avocado salad I'd had for lunch that day at Kobeyaki, the Japanese fast-food chain my colleagues frequent. 

The main meal consisted salmon atop a pool of puréed peas and asparagus. The deep green color was the most impressive aspect of this culinary slight. I really don't know how the simple act of blending can remove all flavor from a food. However, the salmon passed muster--I just wouldn't pay top dollar for it.

The most impressive aspect of the meal arrived in the form of a slender cake topped with three candied pieces of popcorn. This peanut butter chocolate bar almost washed away the disappointing meal. With a bit of crunch and a hint of salt, the chocolate cake and ice cream combo threw the curve, bringing up the meal's overall average. Sadly, however, I wouldn't call this restaurant top-grade. I wonder if it's any better outside of Restaurant Week. 

Cho Dang Gol: The NASCAR Experience of Korean Dining

Cho Dang Gol Korean Restaurant - Koreatown
55 W. 35th St., New York, NY 10001

The other evening I couldn't make up my mind about what to eat. I had been stressed and not feeling well, which put my emotional cravings in conflict with my physical best interest. Whenever in doubt about what to eat while living in Nanjing, I ordered Korean food. However, without realizing, I had somehow omitted Korean food in my culinary adventures in Manhattan. I decided to right this negligence with a trip to Koreatown.

Despite a small queue out the door of Cho Dang Gol just after 9 pm, once inside we were informed the kitchen would be closing imminently. Why would the kitchen close so early, especially with a full house and a line of eager patrons? I will never know. We could eat, the hostess told us, but only if we placed our orders while we waited for a table. The food would be served as soon as we sat down.

Typically at Korean restaurants, several small dishes of pickled this and fermented that come out first as appetizers--whether you order them or not--and are soon followed by the main course. However, all of our small plates, our main bibimbap and soup, as well as our waters and teas were served with NASCAR speed and coordination. A whirlwind of waitresses descended on our table, and five or six arms reached out to set the table, which was fully stocked mere seconds later. They rushed to the next table without a second glance.

Small dishes aside (not my favorite usually), the food satisfied all cravings. Just healthy enough to leave no regrets of indulgence, the soup and hot stone pot were both warm and filling. We enjoyed a brothy seafood soup with red droplets of spice floating at the surface that looked more ominous than they tasted. The bibimbap did not have the same look--Julianne vegetables atop smoldering rice, with a sunny egg resting on the surface--to which I grew accustomed in China. However, the bulgolgi (beef) and special Korean red sauce mixed into the pot in the perfect fusion of spice and natural flavors. (Several different waitresses had asked in passing if we would like them to mix the bibimbap for us. We politely said we could stir on our own.)

While patrons quietly dined, servers speed-walked through the path of tables and chairs like young boys who are scolded not to run at an indoor swimming pool. After asking for a fried egg to garnish my bulgolgi bibimbap, our waitress yelped acknowledgement in such a distressed way that I nearly fell over laughing at the comedic absurdity.

Halfway through the meal, a young female waitress check bombed us. In a drive-by deposit, she informed us that the register was closing. When we finally did pull out our credit cards, another waitress snatched the black bill book and scurried away. She returned with the receipt and two small glasses of heavily sweetened ginger ice tea for dessert.

The whole experience was cartoonish and absurd, yet still delicious. 

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. 

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.

Savor "Forbidden" Foods At Traif

Traif - Williamsburg
229 S. 4th Street, Brooklyn, NY 11211

In getting to the restaurant, my friend and I had gotten delayed by a complicated bus transfer that landed us--lost--in the middle of the most Orthodox Jewish part of Brooklyn. We somehow didn't feel it was appropriate to go up to anyone and ask "Do you know where we can find the restaurant, Traif?"

Traif, the Yiddish word for food that does not conform to the Jewish dietary laws of kashrut, designed its menu off all the most succulent "forbidden" foods. Dinner started off right with an amuse bouche of warm bacon broth. Every plate thereafter seemed to outstrip the former. A tapas restaurant, the waitress highly recommended we order eight dishes among the three of us, but we found that seven was plenty.

The strawberry-cinnamon glazed Berkshire baby back ribs--meat that falls off the bone slathered in a smoky sweet sauce--were my personal favorite. However, fresh mozzarella and beets were elegantly simple.

For dessert, try the round doughnut puffs. They're covered in candied bacon.

All Charm and Little Flavor at Antibes Bistro

Antibes Bistro - Lower East Side
112 Suffolk Street, New York, NY 10002

How can a restaurant have so much charm and still fall flat?

Walking into Antibes Bistro is like walking into a quaint left bank cafe in Paris. We sat at a worn wooden table by a large window, listening to jazzy tunes that livened the mood. Details such as the tiny vase of wildflowers or the bottle-nosed glass carafe of water gave a happy rustic feeling to the restaurant. My only complaint with the atmosphere was that it was a bit too dim--we read the menus by candlelight. Otherwise, it was charming.

Yet the meal started with a mediocre baguette and only fell further from expectations thereafter. No Parisian patron would have been satisfied with this bread, which consisted of a tough white stuffing and softer (dare I saw chewy?) brown exterior--precisely the opposite of a fresh French baguette.

For the main dish the waitress talked me into the special: red snapper. Priced higher than the other entries, I was first disappointed with the taste then annoyed by the bill. Though presented well, the snapper lacked flavor and creativity. Served as the whole fish, I was able to separate the two fillets to de-bone in one piece, only to be left with little meat and a number of pin bones. My mashed potatoes and side of greens were the best part of the meal.

Given that this was the special (and recommended over other dishes when asked), I should have been blown away. My friends' dishes--in appearance only--did not suggest I would have been much better off with another selection.

We passed on dessert. What a shame; the restaurant just looks so adorable.

Order Dinner But Skip Dessert At Xai Xai South African Wine Bar

Xai Xai - Hell's Kitchen
369 W 51st Street, New York, NY

Ostrich mini-burgers; gorgonzola, bacon-wrapped figs; and oxtail were just a few of the small plates we ordered at the candle-lit wine bar. As white candles flickered in tissue paper wrappings, we mused over the diversity of the menu.

I could hardly discern the details of the space; the candles provided the only light, sitting atop every table, shining from wine racks, and scattered elsewhere about the dim restaurant.

Hardly noticing the server--he wasn't too talkative, was there when we needed him, absent when we didn't--the food arrived without a lengthy wait. The tapas arrived in clusters atop a few large dinner plates.

For calorie as well as monetary considerations, I opted out of wine--at a wine bar--to be able to try dessert. This method usually serves me well given my penchant for chocolate and distaste for even the slightest of headaches, but in this case, I should have opted for a South African wine.

Of the doughnut dish we ordered, the vanilla ice cream was the best part. Nothing about the custard cake moved me. I dabbled with my spoon, picking at the dessert like an eight year old boy moves asparagus with his fork. The desserts lacked the same creativity and care we had in our main meal, and we left on a sour rather than a sweet note.

However, I would still recommend Xai Xai. Just, order dinner--with wine--and skip the dessert. 

Stroll Over To The Park For A Glass of Wine Under Illuminated Trees

The Park - Chelsea

118 10th Ave., New York, NY 10011

Firefly lights illuminate the indoor trees at The Park, a multi-purposed bar in Chelsea. My friends and I sat in relative quite under the twinkling lights while a steady bass pulsed from a nearby room (from which we could see drunken people stumble out from the crowd). The space is composed of not only The Garden, where we were sitting, but also the Main Room, the Atrium, the Red Room, and the Penthouse. 

For my friends and I, this was a quiet last stop to a laid-back evening of cocktails and banter; so we were in no mood to join the fray of boozy club goers. It was also too late for dinner--or even dessert. However, the calm of nature brought under the warmth of the indoors, friendly waitresses, and reasonably priced drinks (for Manhattan) indicated this would lend itself to a very pleasant mid-day repast.

As they also serve brunch, lunch, and dinner, I intend to go back to The Park  to experience it under a different light. It's particularly tempting when the cold and rain-drenched city is begging for a spring that just isn't quite ready to blossom yet.