The Craftbar winter 2010 Restaurant Week menu is huge! Most restaurants have three to four choices in each of the appetizer, entrée, and dessert categories, but Craftbar has at least ten. If that isn’t reason enough to go, check out some of the offerings we sampled at lunch yesterday:
I ate head cheese. There. I said it. I ate headcheese. I’ve been interested in it but never interested enough to actually order it, but I thought, “Hey, it’s Restaurant Week. This meal is going to be incredibly cheap, so even if I end up vomiting it up all over my shoes, I don’t have to feel bad about it. Plus, if anyone can do pig head meats right, it’s Tom Colicchio.”
It tasted like a lightly-smoked bacon and had the consistency of week-old ham. I know that sounds kind of gross, but it was delicious. The fat wasn’t chewy like I thought it’d be, and the slight gelatinous feel of it was about a hundred times less jellyish than any other head cheese I’ve seen. It was firm enough to sit on top of the bread but also soft enough to be spread, and the sweetness of the mostarda of lemon and orange peels went so well with the spices on top of the terrine and the sweet mustard seeds on the side.
I would order this again and again from Tom, but I’d still be a little scared to try it anywhere where it looked like this.
Just before he met me for lunch, my boyfriend came out of the subway and saw Bobby Bacala (aka Steve R. Schirripa) of “The Sopranos” fame walk by wearing a track suit. (A track suit! So perfect.) Call him nerdy, but he couldn’t resist ordering the salt cod croquettes, because he knew that the Italian word for salt cod is bacala. (Isn’t he so smart?)
The croquettes themselves mostly just reminded us of fish sticks, but the piquillos were especially sweet and marinated. He liked them, but in the end, he wished he’d ordered something more adventurous.
Our friend ordered the bruschetta, not realizing it came with anchovies. Luckily, she’s a fish person and didn’t mind them, but she did seem especially willing to share.
I was especially excited to try the pipérade after just learning what it is recently, and as deliciously tomato-sauce-y as it was, the fried chicken definitely didn’t require it. We had a to-die-for pan-fried chicken during a previous visit, and this one might have been even better. The batter was thick enough that I got to really enjoy all of the rosemary flavor in it but thin enough that it didn’t overpower the succulent chicken. The potatoes were creamy, salty, and thick, making this a true comfort dish.
We’d also had craftbar’s pork belly once before, and just seeing it on the menu made my mouth water. You’d think something that fatty would be tough to eat, but it all just falls apart as you cut it and disintegrates when it hits your tongue. The grits were fine, but I prefer the dark and earthy richness of the black currant puree that accompanied the pork last time. Still, um, this is the best pork belly ever.
Our friend ordered the salmon, which looks totally lame next to all the lard in the last two dishes, but I guess you can’t hate a girl for trying to play it cool. I didn’t try this, but she said she liked it aside from the abundance of onions.
I got this solely for the maple whipped cream, and it did not disappoint. It was only lightly maple-y, but that was enough to satisfy me. The sugar topping was so thick and chunky, and the apples, cranberries, and golden raisins all had different levels of sweetness that really complimented each other.
The best thing about this brownie is that it has a really thin, really crunchy top layer and then a thick fudgey layer below. The caramel ice cream was much better than the banana ice cream that used to come with this dessert, but I’m a bit biased against bananas, so think what you will.
Who ever actually orders the dessert cheeses? My boyfriend, that’s who. I sort of talked him into it, actually, and while he genuinely liked them, he was obviously in pain when he sampled my apple crumble and then had to go back to his coagulated milk. Sorry, Kamran.
Craftbar remains one of my favourite NYC restaurants because of the way the chef uses such basic ingredients but makes them taste better than they ever should. At $25 for lunch, it’s a total steal, and if you can’t get there in the next few days for winter Restaurant Week, you’d better be prepared for the next one.
I was skeptical at first, but like many New Yorkers, I call the burger from Shake Shack in Madison Square Park my favourite in the city (and maybe tie it with the burger from Cozy Soup ‘n’ Burger in the West Village). So naturally when I heard the burgers from the new Fresh-N-Fast on 23rd St. compared to the ones at Shake Shack, I had to go. I also heard them called blatant ripoffs of California’s famous In-N-Out burgers, so I had to bring along my San Franciscan friend Beth to act as judge.
The problem was, um, that Beth had never actually eaten an In-N-Out burger, something which I probably should have cleared up before I, you know, invited her along to test the burger for me. Instead, she apparently always orders the grilled cheese, which is what she ordered from Fresh-N-Fast. I always used to order the grilled cheese from Sonic back in the day, so I won’t make fun of her, but I should mention that I was doing that during the eight years in which I was a VEGETARIAN and that NORMAL PEOPLE should not be ordering cheese sandwiches at a burger joint.
Aside from the grilled cheese, Fresh-N-Fast has the sparsest menu possible (burgers, fries, shakes) and decor to match (counter space along one wall but no chairs). The staff was very cheerful, which helped us excuse the unnaturally long time I had to wait for my burger. But oh, was it a burger worth waiting for: thick and juicy and sloppy with sauce with melted cheese oozing out of the sides of the bun. The overly-greasy (in a good way) fries reminded me of a county fair, but the cheese sauce wasn’t your usual processed nacho nastiness.
As much as I loved the burger, it was definitely hurt by the lack of the signature Shake Shack sauce, and there’s just no comparing the accouterments at the two places. The cheddar on the fries at Fresh-N-Fast is delicious, but the blend on the Shake Shack fries is special. The shakes at Fresh-n-Fast are thick and flavorful, but Shake Shack has the best shakes ever in flavors like Candy Cane Crunch and Figgy Pudding. Plus, Fresh-N-Fast is way overpriced, especially for the shake, which has already decreased in size since opening just a few weeks ago.
However, there’s exactly one reason to go to Fresh-N-Fast: it’s indoor, which means no waiting outside in the elements for a half an hour in the always-insane Shake Shack line. But that’s only if you think having your skin eaten away by the cold isn’t worth it for a superior burger. And I hope you don’t.
Our first visit to craftbar was so outstanding that my boyfriend and I decided a couple of weeks later to visit for his birthday to try more of the menu. We had opted for the large charcuterie plate to start the first time around and regretted not getting to taste more appetizers, so this time, we went for three starters:
The “fondue” wasn’t liquid by the time it got to our table, but the sweetness of the honey was a treat, and the hazelnuts were hugely complimentary.
The risotto balls seemed like they’d be easy on the palate, but once we got past the super-crunchy skin, the risotto and cheese mixture had an almost sour taste that verged on unpleasant, which actually made them more pleasant. Foods that challenge our palates excite us, so this was a favourite of the night.
The polenta fritters had the same consistency as the risotto balls and seemed like maybe too similar a dish at first, but the jalapeño and tartar-sauce-like topping made it wildly different and delicious.
I heard our waitress tell the table next to us that the meatballs are what they’re known for, so I was especially excited about my dish and therefore especially disappointed when it didn’t blow my mind. The sauce was freshly homemade but tasted bland; I’m a spice freak and therefore biased, but still. The meatballs were juicy but overpowered by the herbs on top. Luckily, the pasta was goooooood. It was a $5 supplement, but my boyfriend had encouraged me to go for it, and I’m glad he did. The orecchiette was textured in a way that gave them a density and authenticity that store-bought pasta could never compete with. By the time I was finished with the dish, I had grown to like it much more, but I don’t think meatballs should be an acquired taste.
My boyfriend loves a hanger steak, but this dish didn’t wow either of us. The highlight was the potatoes, which were creamy and benefited from the jus surrounding them, but we’ll probably stick to ordering steak at steakhouses.
The only reason I ordered the olive oil cake is that people who Google search it often end up here. I have no idea why, and I honestly would’ve never, ever ordered the cake if I didn’t want to have something to offer readers who are interested in it. And I guess the reader knows best, because it turned out to be probably the most surprisingly delicious dessert I’ve ever had. I was surprised at how much I liked the concord grape granita last time, but grape is an inherently lovable flavor for me, while I actually dislike olives and don’t think olive oil is that much better. Olive oil cake is an entirely different story, though. It’s basically a yellow cake muffin with olive oil soaked through the skin, enough to make the inside moist but not enough to push the dessert into savory territory.
The real star, though, is that rosemary ice cream. It was such a perfect compliment to the cake that I actually can’t form words to describe how good the two were together. Even the pine nuts, which I don’t generally think are anything special, were entirely necessary to the dish. I would order this again and again and again.
I’m nothing if not a chocolate person, but next to my olive oil cake, my boyfriend’s brownie just didn’t compare. We had decided to switch desserts in the event I didn’t like mine, but I didn’t even want to once I tasted it. The brownie was soft and chewy and all that, but it hurt too much to watch someone else eating my cake.
I’m glad we tried new dishes this time, but clearly we picked the main course that suited us best last time. Next time, I’ll know that my perfect meal is the risotto balls, the pork belly, and the olive oil cake. I’m making my boyfriend order the grape granita, though, and I’m going to hog the whole thing.
I didn’t love the pretzel croissant. It has its own website. People who care about food gush about it. But I was unimpressed.
It was flaky, buttery, light, and bread-flavoured, which are all of the things a croissant should be. So maybe the problem is that I like pretzels much more than I like croissants, and this was no pretzel. There was no thick pretzel skin, no dense pretzel insides, and no salt in sight, let alone the chunks of crystals I want to see.
But it was a good croissant, and I was still finding butter flavor trapped in between my fingers for hours after eating it. Don’t ask why I was licking between my fingers for hours.
You know you’re living a charmed life when you and your boyfriend read Serious Eats’ Top Five Fancy-Pants Doughnuts in New York City article, decide on a whim that you’re in the mood for some of those fancy-pants donuts, and head out to Tom Colicchio’s craftbar to get your fix.
You may remember that Kamran took me to craft for Valentine’s Day this year and that it remains to this day the best meal I’ve ever eaten without question. craftbar being the less formal sister to that restaurant, I was prepared for a difference in quality or service along with the difference in price. But no!
We were seated in a corner booth in the very dimly-lit dining room
and given our “breadbasket”, which was comprised of four long, crusty sticks.
I was in the mood for soft, warm rolls, so I reluctantly chewed on the rods with disdain, thought I’ll admit I appreciated the creativity. Luckily, our assortment of charcuterie arrived posthaste accompanied by slices of fluffy bread, and I was sated.
From near to far: Bresaola (beef that has been air-dried for 45 days), Finochietta (pork sausage flavored with fennel), Proscuitto di Parma (the famous dry-cured ham), Cacciatorini (sausage traditionally made with wild boar)
Our waiter told us that the Bresaola is something people either love or hate and that even though it would seem dry to us, we could rest assured that it’s supposed to be that way. It was, naturally, our least-favourite, but maybe only because the others were so good. The sausage with fennel was easily my favourite, but we both really enjoyed how especially silky the Proscuitto was.
I had come prepared to order the pork loin with sweet corn and chanterelle that’s listed on the website, but it turns out that the menu had changed two days prior to our visit. What replaced it was a slab of pork belly over lentils, endive, and a smear of pureed black currants. The waiter acted very excited when I ordered it, and though I kind of just assumed that’s part of his shtick at that moment, I fully believed him once I tasted it.
It. Was. Great. I mean great. My first bite was of the endive, which was cooked down until it became as sweet as fruit. It was so delicious that Kamran and I didn’t even recognize the taste and had to ask the waiter what it was. I said I could pick out some anise in it, and he told me I have a good palate, as that’s part of what it’s cooked in. (You can imagine how happy that made me.) I tasted the black currant next and think I made dreamy gurgling noises without meaning to. Next, I dove into the belly and closed my eyes as the layers of fat melted in my mouth and left behind juicy pulled pork that could have been cooking for hours. I’m wiping away a tear just thinking about it.
The funny thing is that the pork belly was so much like the pork dumpling at Sakagura, which I reviewed here. Both paired the pork with sweet flavors, though Sakagura surrounded theirs in a broth so intense it could’ve been maple syrup. I liked the craftbar version more in the end, but you can’t beat only paying $4.50 for it at Sakagura.
Kamran ordered a really divine “fried” chicken (”fried” because it’s pan fried) with collard greens and pickled watermelon. I’m aware that pan frying is supposed to dry out the meat, but we couldn’t stop talking about how juicy the chicken was. The crust on it was dense with savory flavors, and Kamran thought the collard greens were the perfect accompaniment. The only complaint he had was that he wanted more pickled watermelon; the sprinkling of rind cubes and scallions was just a tease.
The reason we had come, of course, was the ricotta fritters with peaches and buttermilk sorbet. Kamran ordered those and let me choose another dessert, which was like trying to choose a favourite child for me. Do you go with the more challenging olive oil cake with black mission figs, rosemary ice cream, and pine nuts? Or do you go with a deconstructed childhood favourite, the new concord grape granita with peanut butter cookies and whipped cream?
I couldn’t pass up the peanut butter and jelly in the end and went with the granita, though I was concerned about it. I was basically expecting a Sno-Cone with some grape syrup poured over it, but our waiter assured me it was a good choice. And sweet Jesus, it was. The grape flavor was so intense, the icy syrup so thick and rich, and the whipped cream on top was a mile high. I had to dig through it for five minutes before I actually got to the granita. The peanut butter cookies were a little bit too crunchy for my liking, but they were certainly delicious. It was definitely one of the more thoughtful and flavorful desserts I’ve had in the city.
And next to it, sadly, the donuts just didn’t compare. They were light and had a great interior texture thanks to the ricotta, and the summer peaches were lovely, but it didn’t feel like the decadent dessert I expect fritters to. However, the buttermilk ice cream was yummy. It tasted heavily of lemon rind in a way that I wouldn’t expect myself to like, but I kept diving into Kamran’s plate long after he stopped taking my granita. Next time, I could have just a scoop (or three or five) of that for dessert.
I thought I couldn’t exclaim enough about Tom Colicchio before, but this experience only made me respect what he’s doing a hundred times more. Our waiter, Mark (I think), only added to the meal by providing welcoming conversation and tons of information. And the prices really blew us away. Not that it was a cheap meal, but both of our entrees were in the low $20 range, and our desserts were only $10. I hope no one figures out how much these dishes were actually worth before I have a chance to go back and try everything on the menu.
