Casellula Is My Favorite New York City Restaurant

Casellula - Hell's Kitchen
401 W. 52nd Street, New York, NY 10019

As we walked up to this little wine bar in the rain, we almost stopped short because of what looked like paper covering all the windows, a typical sign of interior renovations. Instead, it was just fog that had clouded the glass--a veil for the patrons that kept the harsh elements locked outside.

Unfortunately, a 40 minute wait deterred us from becoming one of the carefree indoor patrons that night. We had returned to the wine bar having eaten there not three weeks prior. Sadly, we veered our hungry bellies in another direction but vowed to return again.

It was the cheese that lured us back. How could it not with a knowledgeable fromager on staff to suggest the perfect set of country cheeses to pair with your wine and food selection?

Winter is when we found this gem. And the cold, the rain, and the fog are now gone. Summer is here, and we have been back to this wine bar several times since--I've lost count. Returning not just once, but repeatedly, Casellula has made me break my golden rule of unique dining experiences in the city. How am I supposed to try everything that New York has to serve if I continually revisit old stomping grounds? But this is worth it. Time and time again, it's worth it, so I can't help but return.

What makes Casellula my favorite restaurant in New York City? For a wine bar with a fromage specialist and an ever-changing menu of items such as Goose Breast Reuben or Roasted Bone Marrow, the lack of pretension is ironic. Instead, this simple, little restaurant--far enough removed from Times Square to be considered a midtown respite--is just warm and cozy, and it serves delicious food. It's as simple as that.

One particularly memorable night entailed an epic search for chocolate dessert. Though we were in Hell's Kitchen, I was thwarted at every turn in trying to satisfy this craving. Of course, I turned to Yelp in fervor, and a number of dessert options either looked mediocre or were already closed. I identified an Italian dessert place a few blocks away that looked like it had fine desserts, and I even called ahead to confirm their dessert menu and let them know I was coming in for some chocolate cake. However, once happily seated in a booth in the back, our waiter informed us that they were sold out of chocolate cake. Though other options were available, my heart sunk, and we excused ourselves from the establishment. Next, we tried a French restaurant not too far away. I liked the look of their chocolate cake, and we were about to take a seat when I saw that almonds were baked into the cake. Allergic to almonds and quickly running out of options, I decided not to stay.

I remembered Casellula.

We walked in, sat down (with no wait, thankfully), and asked to only see the dessert menu. They had chocolate cake.

I asked the waiter, "How good is your chocolate cake?"

He said, "Very good."

As a child, my mother spoiled me with her restaurant quality baking, and she has a particularly feisty chocolate cake that would knock out most competition. So, I'm not easily impressed with dessert, and nearly 40 minutes after my search for chocolate began, I wasn't in the mood to mess around.

"I have extremely high standards for dessert, particularly chocolate cake. Are you sure I'm going to like this?" I asked, in the politest way I could given my temperament.

"Yes," he stated confidently.

The cake arrived. I was disappointed. A thick block of chocolate layer cake sat before me--chocolate cake, chocolate frosting, chocolate cake, chocolate frosting, and so on...just like one might find in a grocery store or at a child's birthday party.

But then, the waiter held up a pitcher of heavy cream and ceremoniously drenched my chocolate cake. Oh my goodness.

How was it? Heaven. Chocolate decadence sopping up smooth white cream. The cake was richer than I had anticipated with frosting that was far less sugary than a cheap birthday cake. Little bits of chocolate (were they tiny chocolate chips?) melted with every bite. And the cream? Soaked up inside every nook and cranny, making this the most moist (and caloric) cake imaginable.

While that certainly wasn't the last time I went exclusively for dessert, I wouldn't want to peg this restaurant as just a wine bar, just a cheese bar, or just a postprandial dessert spot. It's everything, and I enjoy everything about it. That's why I'll be going back--again.

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.

Go to Kahve for Scones, Rex for Croissants

Rex Coffee - Midtown West

864 Tenth Avenue (btwn 56th and 57th streets)

New York, NY 10039

Kahve - Midtown West
774 9th Ave. (btwn 51st and 52nd)
New York, NY 10019

Chalkboard Menu at Rex Coffee

Midtown West can be a black hole for New Yorkers.

If you pull up Yelp and search for cafes, the area with the most red pins is Times Square, which also happens to be a special circle of Hell for residents on the weekend. So, too far south and you're in Port Authority territory, too far East and you're in Times Square, too far North and you're in Columbus Circle (or Central Park, which is beautiful but nevertheless a dead zone for food).

Luckily, there are two cute finds for a morning coffee or tea and a breakfast treat: Kahve and Rex. The former leans more on the jazzy, artsy side while the latter has a modern rustic feel (read, Brooklyn) with its wooden counter, mismatched chairs, and blackboard menu.

In both locations the tea selection airs on the side of specialty. The quality difference lies in the treats. For a good scone, try Kahve. The scones at Rex are dry and hard. But for a buttery chocolate croissant that flakes off on your plate, Rex wins by a landslide. As a Greek yogurt fan, I was surprised at how quickly I was devouring the thin plain yogurt they offer at Rex--mostly because their chewy homemade granola became quickly addicting.

And, bonus, a parade of little dogs wandered in and out of Rex with their respective owners. I love sitting at a table watching happy puppies. It makes for a happy morning. 

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. 

The All-You-Can-Drink Brunch at Stecchino May or May Not Be Worth The Food

Stecchino - Hell's Kitchen
765 9th Ave. (Btw 51st and 52nd), Manhattan, NY

Not bad, but not worth it.

That was my take-away from Stecchino's all-you-can-drink brunch.

The most exciting thing that happened was being engaged by a lovely (at least semi-drunk) Canadian couple with whom we chatted for 20 minutes, discussing New York's culinary and theatrical delights and Toronto's cartoon of a Mayor.

An over-peppered, washed out Bloody Mary sparked a food debate that began with Clamato, clam-tomato juice Canadians mix into a punchier Bloody Mary, and ended with the relative merits of poutine, the gravy-slathered french fries of the Great White North. (We were all in agreement that Americans do Bloody Mary's an injustice by not using Clamato. But there was a sharp debate on poutine: one female American agreed with one anti-gravy male Canadian that fries and ketchup belong together, and one male American staunchly vouched for the female Canadian in a pro-gravy stance.)

Stecchino took a back seat to all this excitement. Though I had procured a deal--all-you-can-drink brunch for two for a total of $30--that beat the menu price by $5 per person, once I added in the tax and pre-calculated, mandatory tip, the $50 bill just didn't seem worth it. The best part of my Mexican omelet was the candied bacon, which fell short of expectations, followed by the small, decorative salad. (The omelet itself scratched the surface of mediocrity). The Canadian woman beside me didn't have such nice things to say about her salmon burger, which she traded to her more willing husband. He seemed to enjoy it, and the woman was much happier after she made the trade.

If you're planning on merrily drinking yourself under the table for $20, this is a nice atmosphere in which to do it. The drinks aren't bad. Just one Bellini (served in a tank of a wineglass glass rather than svelte Champlain stemware) was enough to make me fall asleep at the planetarium, so there was really no need to "get my money's worth" on the drinks side of the equation. I'd much rather eat well. Though, I realize others have a different Sunday brunch agenda. So, if you're going to order at least two drinks elsewhere, maybe the mediocre food merits the $20 price tag for bottomless booze.

Take Refuge At Riposo 46

Riposo 46 - Hell's Kitchen
667 9th Ave., New York, NY 10036

Despite being just a few blocks away from Times Square mayhem, Riposo 46 feels like a calm get-away. The restaurant consists of a few high wooden tables and an L shaped bar. It was busy--I took the only empty seat--but not noisy or overwhelming.

Wine glasses range from about $9-$12; the menu was diversified, not pretentious. With a glass of white hanging from my left palm, I asked the bartender to surprise me and bring Riposo's best flatbread.

He returned several minutes later with a large Prosciutto di Parma, big enough to share, with Prosciutto resting in folded heaps across the arugula. Thin, warm bread, fresh greens, and salted strips of fine charcuterie folded up into bites of Italy.