Market-fresh is a bold claim to make, but not as bold as the straight-off-the-vine flavor of the Butternut Squash Soup. Sweeter than pumpkin, stringier than summer, and smoothed by a tiny touch of cream, this soup is absolutely perfect.
The potatoes in my entrée were blissfully buttery, but they butchered my Bife de Chorizo. Unfortunately butchery is only appropriate for cows, not steak. (It’s ok, I groaned too.) I should have known when the waiter walked away without asking me how I wanted it cooked. I shouted rare at his retreating back, and judging by my almost-well-done steak, either he didn’t hear me or the chef chose not to hear anyone. Since my mott-o is that steak should always bleed so this particular cut wasn’t exactly my cup of mate. And it’s a sad day in Argentina when you scarf down the sautéed peppers and onions…next to your steak.
Scream all your want to ice cream, I’ll scream for this cream. It’s rare that a dessert becomes cream of the crop in a three-course meal, but the flavor of dulce de leche made this one the crème de la Crème Brulee.
The fact of the matter is, Mott messed up big time. They ruined a steak, which was the main reason I ordered this meal. But with a flawless setting and forever-fresh feel, Mott is the only place I’ve ever been where the ambiance actually improves the food. Natural light, fresh air, and food that claims to be fresh from the market, a winning combination hampered only by an overdone steak. I walked through much of Soho, and no one does design quite as well as Mott. I’d come back just to sit and soak it in. I’m not sure I’d eat another full meal, but that crème brulee would be simply irresistible.
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