Chinese
September 18, 2007
The dressed-up Chinese at Wakiya gets lost in translation.
2 Lexington Ave., at 21st St. (Gramercy Park Hotel) (212) 995-1330
Dinner: Mon.-Sat., 5:45 p.m.-11 p.m, Sunday, 5:45 p.m.-10 p.m.
Cuisine: Contemporary regional Chinese
Vibe: Moody Asian den
Occasion: Swanky night out
Don’t Miss Dish: Shanghai soup dumplings
Drink Specialty: Cucumber martini
Price: Appetizers, $6-$34; Entrees, $13-$38; Desserts, $9-$14.
Reservations: Highly recommended
Designer-clad servers amble down a red carpet that streams through Wakiya's glossy dining room, flourished with floor-to-ceiling red tassels and dark wood tables. "It'slike a catwalk," Richie Notar, a managing partner of both Wakiya and Nobu restaurants, enthusiastically notes over the phone. "Women love it."
On one visit, I spied Anna Wintour dining front row center. I nearly expected she might pull out a pad and jot down her impressions of Wakiya's fall food collection. As fashionable as the scenery, every dish arrives well-groomed.
Hotelier Ian Schrager had his heart set on upscale Chinese from the inception of the newly posh Gramercy Park Hotel. After scouring the globe and sifting through three potential candidates, he imported chef Yuji Wakiya from Tokyo along with much of the menu - a fusion of Szechuan, Shanghai and Cantonese traditions. This is Chinese food seen through Japanese eyes, and, though the plating is artful, it comes at the pivotal expense of flavor.
There is something to be said for a feisty General Tso's chicken or a succulent Peking duck carved at the table. Sadly, the Peking duck here turns up disassembled, a skimpy stockpile of dried-out meat and rubbery skin. I couldn't resist the temptation of a side-by-side comparison with the "Vegetarian Peking duck."
Tightly wound layers of yuba - as bland as baby food - laced with shiitake mushrooms, bamboo shoots and yoji berries, had me longing for a $1 Chinatown scallion pancake. A dainty spicy beef salad and cloying muck of Tong Tsu (sweet & sour) sea bass failed to live up to their signature, gutsy flavor profiles.
As I attempted to maneuver around the intricacies of the menu, I felt as if I had fallen down Schrager's rabbit hole into an Asian Wonderland. Like the potions that tempt Alice, Wakiya's plates come replete with an exhaustive set of warnings: "Don't touch the steaming kettle," our server urged. "Don't eat the chouten peppers."
The "fiery pepper hunt" was a futile search for buried treasure beneath the hot chouten peppers, which unearthed only a few dull nibbles of miso-battered chicken and lobster. "Be careful not to touch the rocks," our waitress instructed, as she poured a fragrant oolong tea over the stones below a bamboo basket. Our listless medley of steamed shrimp and vegetables wore a whopping $38 price tag.
But I would happily suffer again through the belabored explanation accompanying the Shanghai soup dumplings - satiny purses that release a savory pork broth over the tongue. Wakiya and his entourage of chefs manage to achieve excellence with fresh shrimp and chive dumplings, as well as corpulent crab dumplings. With a Sunday dim sum menu on the horizon, Wakiya may actually emerge an attractive - albeit expensive - dim sum brunch alternative.
Do plant yourself in the upfront lounge and hover over an expertly concocted cocktail menu. An exotic cucumber martini, composed of litchi juice, vodka and cucumber (seeds and all) was beyond refreshing, as was the basil-specked watermelon cooler.
Wakiya is impeccably serviced, which comes as no surprise, considering the Nobu management group is seasoned at catering to the whims of their elite clientele. This is also the reason, as Richie Notar indicates, that the windows are cloaked in beige and red silk. While there is no view of Gramercy's lush park, the privacy of the glitzy patrons is secured.
Still, the kitchen struggles to evoke character from innately dynamic ingredients. Perhaps it would all taste better in a Chinese takeout box, eaten while curled up on the couch with a TV remote in hand.
June 6, 2006
380 Lafayette (at Great Jones St.)
New York, NY 10003
(212)533-7000
Chinatown Brasserie
Dim sum is elevated to an art form at Chinatown Brasserie as chef, Joe Ng, masterfully dreams up an inventive dim sum menu - 40 items prepared fresh daily. Wrapped in handmade leek-stained purses, the steamed mushroom dumplings with sweet corn came replete with sauce mysteriously already inside.
Though I'm reluctant to cast even a shadow of negativity on this otherwise outstanding though somewhat fusion-oriented menu, I'd refrain from ordering the Ginger Dragon
cocktail - vodka, ginger, lime juice & simple syrup - until at least after dinner. Its overly saccharine character (I hate to point fingers at the simple syrup) stand to threaten any of the earthy food flavors.
For dessert, I dabbled in a caramelized banana-topped peanut butter parfait surrounded on all sides by peanut brittle and a gentle ginger syrup - officially my new all-time favorite dessert dangerously available until 1 AM seven nights a week - though I'm suspect about its Chinese origin.
Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
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May 19, 2006
Mr. Chow Tribeca
121 Hudson Street (at North Moore)
(212)965-9500
There's no place like Tribeca for Mr. Chow, the culinary wizard who has managed to open gourmet doors around the world to Chinese food, once not even considered haute cuisine by the dining elite. Having always attracted a fabulous downtown artsy crowd to his 57th street flagship for nearly three decades (from Andy Warhol to Puff Daddy), it would have seemed like a no-brainer to set up shop in Tribeca ages ago. Finally, Michael Chow has purchased a second home, or should I say 12,000 square foot mansion, only footsteps away from his Japanese counterpart, Nobu.
In his usual uber-glamorous style, Mr. Chow (a restaurateur-cum-artist-cum-designer) sets the stage for the greatest food show on earth in this new lavish setting with a sleek black bar (by reservation only), a 130-seat modern white lacquer dining room with a sparkly floating-panel ceiling and a 40-seat outdoor terrace to boot. You'll feel like you're on a movie set as silver champagne & dessert trolleys roll seamlessly around the stylish main room while waiters perform larger-than-life tableside theatrics in the background. But the main event is stargazing with throngs of celebrities and sometimes even a guest appearance by the legendary host himself, Mr. Chow, in his signature black-rimmed glasses, Hermes suit & all. There's no question that Mr. Chow will thrive in Tribeca admist a downtown crowd, hungry for high-end drama and pricey Asian cuisine. But the real question is whether he's bringing anything new to the table other than a sexy and bustling change of scenery?
I guess the answer is to quote Mr. Chow himself: "For change, you have to have no change." The classics remain on the Tribeca menu with 30 new Shanghai-inspired dishes, including a rather surprising venison appearance. However, Mr. Chow mostly rests on his laurels with satisfying but predictable dishes, like the chicken satay, a tangy chicken lathered in a creamy peanut sauce so addictive I considered pouring it into my purse. It's these pricey guilty pleasures like the chicken satay, crispy beef with a sweet and spicy batter glaze, and a defiantly greaseless flash-fried gambei (think seaweed) salad with a gentle crunch that turn A-listers into regulars.
Sadly, not all of the classics felt as comfortable downtown as I did. I would've sent back a lifeless and rubber(ry)-skinned Beijing duck with stringy meat, but I didn't want to make a scene in front of Jessica Simpson, who happened to be dining next to me with her entourage in tow. Likewise, a bland mound of diced squab with minced vegetables, shoveled into a quickly browning lettuce wrap, could only be salvaged by a thick plum sauce disguise.
For dessert, a refreshing and zesty melange of sorbets, some kitschily served in the shell, brought me to my happy place (my favorite was the lemon). I wonder: now that there's a downtown Mr. Chow, will the young and hip ever travel beyond 25th Street again? It's certainly food for thought...
**Feel free to email me to fulfill your every foodie fix or even ask me to go and review a restaurant for you! I volunteer my tastebuds, so you won't have to waste time on a mediocre meal ever again!
Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
February 20, 2006
Hot on the trail of the opening of Mr. Chow's Tribeca outpost (I'm still mourning the loss of Danny Meyers and Abrams' underrated sleeper of an offspring -- Pace) comes Philippe, a Chow spinoff from the former executive chef of Mr. Chow, coincidentally also named Mr. Chow (Philippe is his first name). Just as Madonna, Beyonce and Cher once shed their last names in the wake of newfound fame, Philippe has outed himself as a celebrity chef and branded himself the king of Chinese haute cuisine, leaving his sur name behind. From the signage to the dishes, practically everything in this minimalist two-story House of Philippe proudly wears the name of its owner.
In the past year, droves of celebrity chefs have been getting bad raps for being pretentious, overly experimental, tantrum-throwing divas. This kind of bravado often comes with the territory of culinary greatness, that when executed well, can yield dishes that dreams are made of. In his former and more formal years, Mr. Chow, the chef (not owner) left his mark with squab lettuce wraps, satay chicken and filet mignon in garlic sauce. Unfortunately, Philippe seems to be resting on not only Mr. Chow's laurels, but also his previous accomplishments while cooking at Mr. Chow, and in the process, hurting his chances of attaining true celebrity status amidst the Jean Georges' and Thomas Keller's of the world.
If only Philippe had dared to be different...if even from himself. Regretfully, he doesn't seem to have changed a bit. At least, Nobu (Matsuhisa), also a one name show, added a few new dishes to his worthy repertoire when he spread his wings and landed midtown at Nobu 57. But Philippe's menu is virtually identical to Mr. Chow on East 57th, Mr. Chow in Tribeca, London, Los Angeles, you get the picture.
Don't get me wrong, I adore the tender chicken and beef satay in Chow's "peanut-y" cream sauce. And of course, who could resist luscious crabmeat soup dumplings that explode with flavor, to mention shrimp dressed in a delicate green sauce? But dare he not test out but even one new creation in a dining room filled with loyal followers?
Sure, I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a satisfyingly crispy duck, but I've had equally as fine duck at Canton, Oriental Garden, Peking Duck House and Mr. Chow's. I've also had it for a lot less than $65, even if it is meant "for two". But unless you've never eaten Chinese, you're well-accustomed to sharing heaping plates of sizzling beef in oyster sauce or kung pao chicken for a third of Phillipe's price. If we're going to pay top dollar to eat the same Chinese again, couldn't he at least spice it up a little, think out of the been there, done that "pork box" we've become so familiar with at Mr. Chow's original haunt.
Detailed in red, black and white with orchid accents scattered about for feng shui measure creates a serene, but chic eating experience for power lunchers and scenesters alike. But what appears to be a tranquil dimly lit space where orchids and willows grow free, can also be a perilous landmine. On my visit alone, two people slipped while heading up the stairs from the first floor dining room to the bathroom as well as four table vases accidentally fell to the floor, which leads me to believe he should do away with these weapons of imminent disaster and likely litigation.
If you can't get a reservation, table or even a seat at the bar, don't despair. Phillipe delivers pricey Chinese right to your door. So, if you're the kind of diner who cares about the brand of your take-out, your menu will have Philippe written all over it -- literally.
PHILIPPE 33 East 60th Street, btwn. Madison and Park Aves., (212)644-8885
www. philippechow.com
Until we eat again...
