Showing posts with label craftbar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label craftbar. Show all posts

Monday, January 7, 2013

Colicchio’s Genius at Craftbar UPDATE - NYC



Some people are not meant to swim. Greetings from a human rock. No, smart ass, not pumice. Maybe a skipping stone on a good day. Let’s put it this way: my scuba instructor had to physically tow me to the descent rope because I couldn’t swim there. With a flotation vest. And flippers.

Some restaurants were not meant to serve brunch. Craftbar was meant to serve dinner. It’s been a year and I still can’t forget the sweetbreads, but brunch at Craftbar was like so many things in this city of trends and chance: not meant to be.



I knew I was taking a huge risk by trying the brunch, but the Pecorino Risotto Balls made me feel better about my decision. They weren’t brass ones, but the cheesy risotto with a kick of tomato made for big gooey bites of tasty-but-expected goodness. No surprises and no spontaneity, but definitely no complaints.



Finally, a real kale salad. After the hot mess spinach dip at Fada, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into with the Winter Squash and Kale Salad, but the kale is crunchy and the squash is sweet. This one gets a hearty red heart, like an oversized t-shirt declaring your love for NYC.   



Some things just don’t belong at a New York brunch, and nothing makes that point clearer than the Potted Corned Beef Hash. The tender chunks of beef are overpowered by the underlying sour-kraut, and what was once a thick beef and potato hash gets diluted as the kraut-water seeps in. The mix of egg yolk and fermented cabbage is a disaster of epic proportions, a no-go that stops your tastebuds in their tracks like cars in the Lincoln Tunnel during rush hour.



The hash may be a little off, but if you need proof that these chefs can cook anything, look no farther than the Shrimp & Grits. The grits are buttery, the shrimp are perfect, and the chorizo adds a little extra. Would have liked spicier shishitos, but that’s not really something they can help.

Writing this review made me feel like the sitcom parent who spanks their child while says “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” I love Craftbar and it pains me to dock them in an update, but some places should stick to what they’re good at. Sadly, the same evolution that has us walking upright in heels has brought us into a society where Manhattannites will consume nothing but poached eggs before 4 PM on Saturday and Sunday, so I sympathize with Craftbar’s struggle for survival. The thing is, we’ve all tried to put things where they don’t belong, and at Craftbar, that would be brunch.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Colicchio's Genius at Craftbar - NYC



Tom Colicchio,
How do I love thee let me count the ways
I love thee for the depth and breadth and height
of flavor the Veal Sweetbreads reach, when melting in my mouth
For the ending bite of Brown Sugar Cake and ideal Duck Bruschetta.
I love thee for the level of every
Most perfect plate, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as chefs strive for Righteous Rillette;
I love thee purely, as they braise for Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old food gripes, and with my tastebuds’ faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my move to Boston --- I love thee with the flavorful,
Succulent, savor of all my palate! --- and, if Greenspan choose,
I shall but love thee better after Craft.

Bottom line: Mr Colicchio, I was biggest groupie before I went to your restaurant, but after your veal sweetbreads, I realized that your cooking is what legends are made of. I was always wary of Padma’s credentials, but I never doubted you and it is my great pleasure to find that my unshakeable faith in you as a culinary god is not in the least bit unfounded. As we speak, I have made a mental note to burn extra incense at your shrine tonight. And every time I crave the genius of legends, I will have veal sweetbreads at Craftbar.