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GOTHAM Magazine, April 2001
David and Karen Waltuck’s Chanterelle is gracious, expensive, and refined. Their recently opened brasserie, however, is decidedly funky and come-as-you-are. Separated at birth? Evil stepsisters? Kissing cousins? Jason Oliver Nixon takes a bite out of both… Chanterelle has led the culinary pack for 20-odd years, garnering top-notch accolades for it’s ultra-rich, expensive cooking and crackerjack service. Now, a recently opened sister operation, Le Zinc, has jumped on the brasserie bandwagon, serving up casual, rustic fare—complete with no-reservations policy—to the clamoring masses. But which is right for you? THE SITUATION AHEAD 7:45 p.m., Chanterelle Enter from quiet Harrison Street and, while awaiting your dining companion in the cozy vestibule, sip a glass of wine and study the “retired” menus lining the peach-colored walls. At 8 p.m. sharp, a hostess guides you (almost religiously) to a well-spaced table. Soak in the surroundings: David Waltuck’s cooking takes center stage, so the décor is elegant, yet restrained. Spider-like brass chandeliers and warm wood columns anchor the room, reaching over dark-wood Chippendale chairs. There is no artwork on the walls, no music on the sound system. In fact, the only color derives from the tightly bunched flowers (arranged, famously, by Karen Waltuck) that reach toward the ceiling. A forest of oversized stemware populates the table, glinting in the light of oil-filled lanterns. 8 p.m., Le Zinc Step inside from desolate Duane Street, and you’ll be lucky to make it through the hordes to the hostess stand. “A table might be ready in an hour,” we’re told, apologetically. “Why don’t you wait at the bar?” Snag a stool at the long polished zinc expanse and order an aquavit-laced cosmopolitan. The noise level is deafening, voices augmented by music on the sound system. The décor is simple, almost non-existent (and without such brasserie standard-issue staples as smoky mirrors and mosaic floors): A pastiche of colorful posters lines the barrel-vaulted walls (Clementes, Schnabels, Twomblys), dark bentwood chairs jam up at the tables, and patrons sit cheek-by-jowl at half-moon banquettes. A spindly bunch of forsythia enlivens one end of the bar. Happily, the staff is attentive and watchful, making the din somewhat bearable: During the course of an hour-long wait, the hostess stops by on numerous occasions to give an update on the status of a table. NATURAL SELECTION 8:30 p.m., Chanterelle A goateed waiter, efficient in a crisp, white oxford shirt, delivers the menu—a monthly changing, calligraphed (and art-bedecked) affair. As you set out to decipher Karen Waltuck’s intricate, wispy penmanship, a suggestion: Forgo that second cocktail until you’ve decided. Fast-forward to 9:15 p.m., Le Zinc A table finally opens up in the front window, and now, ensconced in a semi-quiet, smoking-friendly corner, you can dive into Chef Michael Sullivan’s multi-culti creations (many culled from David Waltuck’s recent book, Staff Meals from Chanterelle). Play around the world as you choose between American, Asian, Hungarian, Greek, and dead-on French comfort fare. THE ART OF THE MEAL Chanterelle Dig into the selection of amuse-bouches (or palate teasers), small plates of golden fried, sweet Vidalia onions with a tangy, tamarind dipping sauce and creamy smoked trout salad served on potato crisps. Soon, appetizers arrive in unison: Waltuck’s signature, pale seafood sausage—a corn-flecked, solid chowder of sorts rich with lobster, shrimp, scallops, and pine nuts—pairs wonderfully with a creamy, beurre blanc sauce. The almost-black custard-like timbale of oxtail, a gelatinous, hyper-reduced aspic with squares of buttery foie gras and diced oxtail, explodes in the mouth, a study in textures and flavors. The seared beef carpaccio, too, is pure drama, truffle-scented layers of pink meat and marinated mushrooms criss-crossed with a creamy mayonnaise and surrounded by a wreath of peppery baby arugula. Main courses (like the appetizers) are large enough for two—artful compositions augmented with soul-soothing, buttery reductions. The mains are wonderfully complex and beautiful, yet, if anything, too rich, too filling, almost too heavy for the modern palate. Still, this is rustic cooking elevated—with deft classical French culinary twists—to high art: The impossibly flavorful, firm veal sweet-breads, for example, rest in a sweet, tangy brown quasi-caramelized sauce, accompanied by wilted spinach and golden potato wedges. The mild, grilled turbot, drizzled with a green herb coulis, sits atop a bed of miniature root vegetables and mushrooms. Yet another reduction (flavored with Sauternes) brings out the flavor of the organic pork, thin slices served with braised, crunchy bok choy and phyllo-wrapped vegetable sprint rolls. Meaty ham hocks and a mirepoix of carrots and onions give color to the flaky, sautéed red snapper with its deep brown, reduction-driven glaze. Finish off with the quartet of caramels, four distinct, miniature selections: spun sugar with chocolate-caramel ice cream, a potent crème caramel, a caramel-topped apple beignet, and a peanut brittle and caramel mousse napoleon. The milk chocolate bombe, enveloped by a crispy, buttery crust, encloses a gooey chocolate sauce—the flavors offset by roasted bananas and meringue kisses. As the meal winds down and the check is being signed, the waiter serves up further indulgences: a tray of candied ginger and chocolate truffles, followed by miniature banana profiteroles. LE ZINC Start with the curried Vidalia onions (the “amuse” over at Chanterelle) with a tamarind dipping sauce, a hefty plate laden with fried strips of onion. This is no oversized, oily Outback Steakhouse “blooming onion;” here the golden skin is feathery and crisp, wonderfully crunchy. The meat of the lightly breaded, deep brown duck drumsticks—enough for two to share—pulls easily from the bone; dip the succulent meat into the pot of smoky, chili-scented black-bean paste. A creamy, minty yogurt sauce cools the cayenne-spiked, crumbly lamb sausage, wrapped in grape leaves and flavored with cumin and paprika. The shallow bowl of risotto, sprinkled with mushrooms, is a terrific cold-weather meal, earthy and warming. Like Chanterelle, many of Le Zinc’s main courses can be studies in excess (creams and reductions providing cholesterol-jammed complexities). Others, however, are straight-forward: Take Le Zinc’s cheeseburger, certainly a contender for the city’s best. Slathered with Gruyère cheese, tender and juicy on the inside and crunchy on the outside (thanks to a dusting of flour), the burger comes with a ramekin of creamy coleslaw and a giant pile of crispy fries. The goulash-like braised oxtail stew (ah, those heavy reductions!) sits on a bed of ribbon-like noodles topped with sour cream and sprinkled with thin, crunchy French beans—not a plate for the calorie conscious. Spicy paprika flavors Grandma Gaby’s Hungarian-inspired stuffed cabbage, which mixes sauerkraut and ground pork, wrapped in blanched cabbage leaf packets. Pass on the rice pudding—“Too ricey,” warns the waitress, knowingly—and, instead, share the bête noire (black beast), an appropriately named flourless chocolate cake with milk chocolate—espresso whipped cream and shaved cocoa beans. Chanterelle 2 Harrison St., 966-6960 Reservations: Required. Book months in advance. Atmosphere: Spare, airy dining room punc-tuated with towering floral arrangements, brass chandeliers, and wooden columns. Well-spaced tables. Sound Level: Quiet. No music. Recommended Dishes: Grilled seafood sausage loaded with lobster, scallops, and shrimp; oxtail timbale (molded custard) with foie gras and star anise; diver sea scallops with mint and cucumber; red snapper sautéed with winter vegetables and ham hocks; quartet of caramel desserts. Service: Gracious, knowledgeable, atten-tive, and unobtrusive Wine List: Over 8,000 bottles overseen by master sommelier Roger Dagorn. Price per person: $84 three-course prix fixe, $95 six-course prix fixe Summation: A leisurely, romantic, and expensive special-occasion evening. Super-rich, elegant-but-rustic cooking. Large portions. Not for those seeking low-fat, low-calorie cooking or vegetable-based sauces. Numerous amuse-bouches and post-dessert treats. Great for an anniversary. Wear the coat and tie and the dramatic décolleté. Le Zinc (www.lezincnyc.com) 139 Duane St., 513-OOO1 Reservations: Not accepted Atmosphere: Casual. Funky. High, barrel-vaulted room covered with colorful posters. Long zinc-topped bar. Bentwood chairs and half-moon banquettes. Closely situated tables, especially those marching down the center of the dining room. Sound Level: Extremely noisy Recommended Dishes: Crispy duck wings with a black-bean dipping sauce; curried onion fritters; chicken grandmère; Grandma Gaby’s Hungarian cabbage stuffed with bacon and pork; pan-fried skate with brown butter and capers; maple-flavored crème caramel. Service: Friendly, attentive, and knowledgeable Wine List: Chanterelle’s master sommelier Roger Dagorn has developed a moderately priced wine list ($16-$75 per bottle), with more than 40 varietals offered by the glass. Price per person: $50 (includes appetizer, main course, dessert, and glass of wine) Summation: Too noisy early in the evening. No coats and ties or expense accounts needed. Le Zinc stays open till the early morning, with the kitchen closing at 4 a.m. Wonderful, inexpensive, hearty cooking that’s great for sharing. Words of wisdom: Arrive post-midnight for a table without a wait and without the din. Breakfast club: Le Zinc’s brunch features such winners as eggs with a hearty boudin sausage and oatmeal with cream and maple syrup. http://www.gotham-magazine.com |