Three Days of Lafayette

Last weekend I was immersed in Lafayette, Andrew Carmellini's latest, a French restaurant designed by Roman + Williams. It started with Friday night dinner in the private dining room, which for one of those rooms is quite nice, swaddled in warm wood paneling punctuated by a vignette of mismatched mirrors & other vintage-y objets. Food was served family style but again quite good for that mode, the chicken and the gingerbread-chocolate-chip cookies being the best (not eaten together, of course).

Lafayette's wood-paneled private dining room.

Sunday was the friends & family brunch, which I came to as the guest of my friend, architect Stephanie Goto, who herself has designed some stunners (Aldea, Corton). This time I really got to take in the environment, which, although a touch loud, is quite remarkable. The color palette is sophisticated (browns, burgundies, and yellows, instead of the predominantly red seen in most American interpretations of a French bistro), the proportions and light grand, and the details surprising (booths with their own lamp, playful murals randomly appearing on walls). As for dish, we feasted on lemon pancakes with fresh berries, smoked salmon benedict, and egg white frittata with mushrooms, all delicious, the latter probably being the unexpected tastiest. Two other designers joined us and the aspect they all focused on the most was the small leather tray the check is presented on. They loved the feel and the logo and the leather itself. Go figure.

The welcome card to friends & family brunch.

Random wall sketch.

Leather tray for check.

Smoked salmon benedict, brioche, sauce choron.

Finally, Monday night was the second in the three-part series Dining + Design: Conversations with Chefs and Architects, coproduced by the New School and the James Beard Foundation, featuring AC himself with Robin Standefer and Stephen Alesch of Roman + Williams. (The first was Blue Hill's Dan Barber and architect Peter Guzy.) My day job's obligations to cover ICFF made me miss the first half of their talk, but I did catch Robin and Stephen dissect the subtle differences between the Dutch and Lafayette, bc at first glance, they could look and/or feel similar. But the Dutch is the more casual of the two, supposed to be like an upscale American roadside diner or waffle house, with big round pendant globes, rounded corners, the font of the signage in print not script. Whereas Lafayette is more formal and layered, art deco columns clad in Provence-style tiles, chefs that are visible wearing tall white toques, French but through an international lens.

Here's the video of the discussion. The last in the series is June 10, 6pm, with David Chang and the Design Agency.

The New School's Fabio Parasecoli, Robin Standefer, Andrew Carmellini, Stephen Alesch beneath a rendering of Lafayette.

Mesa Grill, Flatiron District, NYC

Design: Whenever I walk down lower 5th Ave in the evenings, which used to be very often bc of the former location of my day job, I'd pass by Mesa Grill and wonder how it is nowadays. I'd first and only been in the late 1990's, when I'd just moved to Manhattan, on a date with a guy. (I'd lived on the UES at the time and I remember him saying "I'm taking you downtown for dinner.") I'd been awed by the buzz, the mushroom columns, the double-height loft space. Today, the columns and loftiness still remain, but the buzz has certainly died down. Yet Jim Biber's design from when the restaurant first opened in 1991 is still largely intact and surprisingly current. What's weird is that the mini renovation, or flame-ovation, done by Rockwell Group in the early 2000's is what dates it. You see it in the canopy above the bar, where Biber had installed huge ahead-of-their-time industrial fans, and in a few other spots. Apparently the flame theme carries through to the Mesa Grills in Las Vegas and the Bahamas. Billy, the bartender, has been at the NYC outpost since it opened and is a font of MG info. I recommend eating at the bar to chat with him and to try to comprehend the flame-ovation.

Vintage industrial fan from Jim Biber's original 1991 design

Original waxed-vinyl banquette upholstery that's kinda cheeky/ironic now

The flame-ovation above the bar

Dish: Fortunately, the food is still good here. I wouldn't say amazing enough to go out of your way for it, but dependable and tasty if you're in the neighborhood. We had the Gala apple salad, fresh & tart (in a good way), and the shrimp tamale, which, even though an appetizer, is big enough to serve as an entree. The bread basket included a mini muffin that was half yellow corn and half blue corn, like a Southwestern ying and yang.

Yellow & blue corn mini muffin

Gala apple salad

Shrimp tamale

Dining + Design: James Beard Foundation & The New School

It seems I'm not the only one thinking about restaurant environments and how they affect our dining experiences. I went to a fascinating panel the other night at the New School, the first in a series of three called Dining + Design: Conversations with Chefs and Architects (so close in name to Design & Dish!), coproduced with the the James Beard Foundation. About 50 or so of us got the amazing opportunity to hear chef Dan Barber, of Blue Hill and Blue Hill at Stone Barns fame, casually discuss the genesis of his restaurants and their design with his architect, Peter Guzy. Dan waxed poetic about Blue Hill, which opened in 2000 and is inside what was once a speakeasy, saying that it's one of the greatest examples of "understated intelligent design," and that Peter had created "the restaurant he'd always dreamed even though he'd never pictured it." Peter, whose firm Asfour Guzy Architects has also designed all the Blue Ribbon restaurants, noted that the architect's role is to find the "essence of the chef and the narrative of the food" and then capture that in the design, a process that's hard to define, that evolves over "thinking, eating, talking, and exploring together with the chef." Also on the panel was Dan's sister-in-law, Laureen Barber (she and her husband, David, who is Dan's brother, are co-owners with Dan of the Blue Hill empire) (Blue Hill, btw, was the name of Dan and David's grandparents' 138-acre farm in Great Barrington, MA). Laureen has a background in marketing and graphic design and serves as the restaurants' design director, overseeing everything from logos to tableware to uniforms (fun fact: John Varvatos, before he was the famous John Varvatos, designed the first set of shirts for the Blue Hill wait staff when it opened).

Peter Guzy, James Beard's Mitchell Davis, Laureen Barber, Dan Barber; photo: Clay Williams

 Much more was discussed, you can see the video here. 

And mark your calendars for the next two Dining + Design panels:
May 20 - Andrew Carmellini (the Dutch, Locanda Verde) + Roman + Williams
June 10 - David Chang (Momofuku) + the Design Agency

Stumptown, Greenwich Village, NYC

Interior designer and my good pal Andee Hess was in town this week from Portland, Oregon. We met three years ago on an IIDA Oregon design panel and instantly became besties. (Hopefully she agrees.) Lucky for me, she's been coming to New York a lot lately because she's designing NYC's first stand-alone Stumptown Coffee Roasters cafe on West 8th @ MacDougal (there's one inside the Ace Hotel New York and several in Portland, where it launched in 1999). It's still under construction, but she gave me a private tour the other night. She only allowed me to take this one photo. But I can say that when it opens in early May, you'll want to look up - the ceiling treatments are super cool.

A sneak peek into Stumptown cafe at 30 W. 8th St.

Aamanns-Copenhagen, TriBeCa, NY

Design: If you have a taste for minimalist and/or mid-century modern aesthetics, then you'll likely say "Aaahh" when you enter Aamanns-Copenhagen. The bleached-wood space is white, bright, and airy, outfitted soup to nuts in all things Danish (Arne Jacobsen chairs, Bodum salt & pepper shakers, Anne Black ceramicware). One noteworthy element, however, hails from Japan. A slender black object stands inside the bottle of tap water on the table. We thought it was liquorice (since that's one of the words emblazoned on the exterior), but it's actually Japanese coal that's been boiled to remove its soot, then placed in the water to purify. The bottle even has a coordinating black cap. Low fuss; high impact. 

The exterior.

Tap water with a purifying coal stick.

Arne Jacobsen chair.

The restaurant on a Sunday around lunchtime.

Dish: The main food concept here is updated versions of traditional smørrebrød, open-faced sandwiches on homemade rye bread. They're pretty small (thus the $8-11 price range), but they're really good. I had the green chicken salad with yogurt & crispy parsnip. You're encouraged to get 3 dishes each, whether smørrebrød or a seasonal special; we had 3 between the 2 of us and we were almost totally full. Our other 2 dishes were fiskefrikadeller—(half the fun is trying to pronounce them)—pan-fried fish cakes served with a tasty remoulade and pickled cucumber, and the cheese plate. All of it was super yummy, which was lucky because the service was really disorganized. The 12 or so tables were full, but there were 3 servers—the problem was that they were playing man-to-man defense when they should've been playing zones. The place is relatively new, so hopefully they can iron out the service kinks in time. In addition to the tables, there's a nice long marble bar that has it's own dedicated server. That might be the place to sit. Overall, Aamanns is a great addition to the neighborhood (my neighborhood), especially being next door to TriBeCa cinemas. I'll definitely be back. 

Green chicken salad smørrebrød.

Fiskefrikadeller.

Cheese plate.

What's Your Beef, Rumson, NJ

Design: I've been coming to What's Your Beef since I was a little girl (Rumson is where I grew up), when I'd call it What's Your Barf. True story. I didn't like meat then. My appetite for beef has surely changed, yet the restaurant's design hasn't really at all since it opened in 1970. Beyond the houselike exterior is a casual pubby interior marked by brick, Tiffany-style pendant lamps, and stained-glass windows. It's not high design, but it's definitely cozy, and one of my favorite haunts to visit when I'm in the area.

The exterior.

Brick, stained glass, and old books in the dining room.

Dish: Obviously, the draw here is the meat, and boy is it a draw. The chalkboard menu lists NY sirloin and filet mignon, both ordered by the ounce, as well as prime rib, which is a family favorite (there're also tasty chicken and fish options, but we always wonder who on earth would order either at a place with beef in its name). There's waitress/waiter service, but you put in your dinner order yourself, at large a window that allows glimpses of the succulent cuts. Just as delicious as the meat is the salad bar. It's old-school format—sneeze guard, iceberg lettuce, and all—but it's immaculate and fresh and just plain awesome. Over the years, the owners have updated the selection to include more trendy items like mesclun and spinach leaves, roasted red peppers, and Kalamata olives, but they've retained the oldy-but-goody stuff too, like the chunky blue-cheese dressing you pour on with a ladle. Before returning to your table to eat your salad and get served your dinner, locals know to stop at the bread drawer: Heated and stocked with loaves of marble rye, French, and pumpernickel, it's heavenly.

The salad bar.

The heated bread drawer.

The prime rib.

Aska, Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Design: The space that Aska occupies is multitasking. By day, it's Kinfolk Studios, which itself multitasks as a cafe, bike company, & creative agency. (From 6pm on, Tuesday through Sunday, it's Aska.) Although bilevel, airy, and lofty, acoustics are good. There are 4 seating areas (3 of which are 1st come 1st serve), one of which is right up against the glass garage-door facade. Another is a little room tucked to one side, like a den. Then there's the bar, where I sat, long and wooden and with enough room behind the stools so ppl can pass w/o brushing against anyone seated. The cozy rear area, reserved for those partaking of the tasting menu, features a striking hawk mural. Overall, the aesthetic is pretty typical of the times & neighborhood: wood & concrete; midcentury-esque mismatched furniture; sort of Scandinavia by way of Japan. It is pleasant, though, and works just as well for small groups (den-like room) as it does for 2 friends/a date (front, bar, rear). I went on a Tuesday, and by 8pm, it was bustling, but not annoyingly so.

The front dining area through the garage door.

The rear reservation-only area.

Dish: You have a choice between the $65 tasting menu or the a la carte menu, both of which change daily. We went a la carte and had approximately five items to choose from. Perhaps the chef got a deal on potatoes that morning bc 2 of the options were potato dumplings and potato soup. Both were very good. But the meatballs, served with lingonberries, pickled cucumbers, and, yes, mashed potatoes, were extraordinary. The prices were also extraordinary. Although classified as small plates, we were more than satisfied with the 4 dishes we ordered, and none were more than $9. (That may explain why we were given paper cocktail napkins and disposable untensils, instead of the cloth napkins and silverware the tasting-menu diners were given.)

The meatballs.

Potato dumplings.

Potato soup with kale.

Utensils & napkin for a la carte diners.

Last bite: The service is a little spotty (and all male except for the hostess). It may be more of a space issue than anything--there are like 7 servers crammed into an area that's like 5 square feet. But someone must've been paying attention to our slight frustration & confusion bc our dessert was comped. A nice touch.