Elitism, Restaurant Critics, Bigwigs and You

I have had a growing case of chapped ass as I watch shows like Top Chef.  It all came to a head today on Top Chef Masters, as I watched the chefs manage a fast casual place.  The thing they seem most concerned about is the judges.  How fast they get their food, and that it is the best food served that day.

The schmucks who simply go to work, make a few bucks an hour, and come in to plunk down money representing an hour or two of their life?  Well, they come second.  No one on this or the other shows seem to see this as what it it- telling the viewers that when they go to a restaurant, they don't matter.  That all that is important to these people is that the judges are happy so the chefs can advance.  Doing what is right for the people who sit in the dining room?  Not that big of deal.

Sadly, this is not so far from the truth, despite what owners of businesses espouse- the most important person in the business is the one who pays for it.

In the many years I spent in restaurants, the bigshots came second.  If there was a problem in a restaurant they visited, they pitched in to help fix it for the guest, then later dissected the cause and solutions.

Torrisi- best sandwich on earth.

My review of Torrisi didn't get finished. I've been too busy wiping the drool from my face.

It is known by some as "THE Sandwich".  IT does define the genre.  And the sides of vege are even better!  How do they make turkey taste that good?  How do they make pork so good you can't get it without determination?  How is it that I only ate there twice?

This piece in the Times is good background to what makes this place so special. And yes, if you are in the east, you should go to NYC. And have a meal there.

Cooking Up a Big Idea in Little Italy - NYTimes.com
Read it online: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/01/magazine/mag-01Torrisi-t.html?_r=1
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Frenchy's at Clearwater Beach

Located on the beach, this is what Florida means to me. Frenchy's Rockaway Grill is big and fun, and most important, the food is good and the beer is cold (well, I assume it is, I had water).

Frenchy's reputation is based on fresh fish, that they claim comes in everyday, on their own boats, and is never frozen. Editorial comment- the idea of never frozen seafood is a truism that is seldom challenged. But in fact, freezing is one part of handling a catch that cab impact the quality, but not as much as say, bleeding a fish, or proper cleaning. And more than with almost anything else, time is the enemy of quality fish. So freezing on board, at some point, is preferable to fresh when the boat is a long way out. Not usually the case in the gulf though. So we accept, Frenchy's approach is best.

We ordered the famous Grouper sandwich, and it is as good as they say. Nothing very exotic. Bread that is perfect because it is almost etherial in it's softness. Good tartar sauce, good tomato, good lettuce and a slice of cheese. The fish is the star, in a crispy breading that is not too thick, and fried to perfection so it is moist inside. This is a great fish sandwich.

We also had cole slaw, very good. And beef vegetable soup, full of vege, house made, delicious. And the also famous she crab soup. Creamy and so tasty it will create a new craving for you. Don't miss it.

When in Tampa, find a Frenchy's and eat there. Do it.

Blue Hill at Stone Barns

Referred to as one of the most important restaurants in America, the name is worth mastering. Blue Hill at Stone Barns.



We had been saving for this event meal for weeks, planning it to be the kickoff event of our partnership's Anniversary Month. How appropriate to begin the celebration here in the the Hudson Valley. We intend to conclude the celebration in the Napa Valley.

Located on one of the estates of David Rockefeller, the restaurant is one feature of the farm. The purpose of the entity is to develop and educate the public and restaurant industry about sustainable agriculture. The farm is a showcase for the kind of forward thinking farming that takes agrarian heritage and adds science. A walk around the various pastures and barns is sure to make you think about where you meal comes from. This subject is very dear to us, as we harvest a large portion of our vittles from our land, the forests and waters of the northwest.

This is about the restaurant. We had our reservations, and dressed as requested, as most did. The main business comes from the city, just 28 miles south. Our trip took us into Stone Barns from the north, the fabled Hudson Valley. That beautiful drive really set a farm tone for the evening. We were early, and took a walk around the farm, entertaining ourselves and the cows. The sheep had just been sheered, and were not amused. The setting is magnificent.

We finally went inside, to the cozy bar. Here we sat by the fire, anticipating and talking. The cocktail menu caught my eye, and gave us a preview of the fare. The staff was occupied, and when they got to us, we ordered a drink. No hurry. I ordered a Beet It. Cava, beet infused vodka, house made bitters with a hint of marjoram. It was delicious. The wine list is brilliantly organized by primary characteristics, and is a bit pricey. One minor disagreement here- since the focus of Blue Hill is local sourcing and micro agriculture, wines should be featured that reflect the terroir. Nothing in food and wine pairing is more important in my opinion. This knowledge alone is what keeps France from slipping into barbarism.

After a pleasant wait, we were shown kindly to a table early. How nice. We had our minds made up, and ordered the 5 course Easter tasting. The policy at Blue Hill is to not spend a lot of time describing the food, in writing or before ordering. Very different, and effective to make one focus and trust. I liked it.

We were treated to an extensive amuse buche, with dried vegetable chips and an herb spritzer that was very fun and clever. This mini-course finished with a tiny beet burger- scrumptious!

Then we got into the menu. An Easter egg in a bed of micro-greens. The egg was of course fresh off the farm, and that matters, as we all know. It was perfectly cooked, the yolk soft and unctuous, creamy and not too runny. When it was mixed in the greens, with the basil and herb paste on the plate, it was fun. The greens were eye opening- each variety's flavor was distinct and balanced. It was served on a slate slab, which we thought too clever by half. We are certain we picked up a metallic flavor from the slate.

The fish course was flawed, in our personal view. It was a delicious piece of trout filet, grilled on the skin, then the meat separated and served. The flavor of the cooking was delicate and complimented the the trout, but it was very little more cooked than raw. Not a pleasing texture, and one that in my view detracts from the enjoyment. It is too soft and mushy to be pleasing. What saved the dish was the Mayer Lemon sauce, which, if you must use lemon on fish, and this one needed it, was an inventive and appropriate way. The shittake mushrooms and ramps (of course at this time of year), were very complimentary. Another new idea- fish and mushrooms, which is perfect for our home range.

Next came a parsnip steak. Yes. A nice size, well cooked parsnip root. With a sweet maple-bacon sauce that was yet another revelation. We are planting the damn things as a result of this dish. I hope we can cook it as well!

The course we faced with trepidation came next, lamb! Mrs. Exechobo has been traumatized by lamb, and avoids it stringently. She knew this was her moment to face fear, the time she could count on having the best lamb possible to see if she could overcome lambaphobia. The lamb was served two ways, a piece of belly and a loin. The loin was perfectly cooked, and seasoned with salt and pepper to perfection as well. The sauce was rich, deep and balanced. The belly? A bit tough and fatty, alit seemed to yearn for more time on the fire. The carrots were impossibly sweet. And the Cardinal Spinach was what we had mistaken for chard in the greenhouse on the farm. It was tasty.

Desert was a bit odd. On top a foam of Blue Hill milk, from the farm. It was grassy and good, as real milk is. It topped what I can only recall as a mini mess of things chocolate and coffee. Icy and liquidy and mousy. Filling, abundant and not all that great. We were surprised to learn the cookie bit was gingerbread, as it had no characteristics of gingerbread.

Overall, one of the minor things that impressed us was the perfect cooking of the vege. Not too done, not too undone. More important though was the way the meal came together as an event centered on the farm, with simply conceived cooked to modern culinary perfection, and a twist of imagination to make them more interesting. This is great American cuisine.

I recently wrote about my rationale for eating out. Dining at Blue Hill is worth it:

- Worth the money? YES

- Worth the time, travel? YES

- Sates my hunger? Well, yes

- Makes me think? YES

- Inspires my culinary interest? YES

- Inspires my professional business interest? Not so much

- Creates a center for a good time with others? oh YES

The list for a reservation is quite full, so plan ahead, but by all means, do as we did and plan a trip around this gem. Try to get there in the day and bring some gumboots to tour the barns and pastures. There is a cafe to refresh you. Make it a day celebrating the gifts of agriculture.


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David Burke's Townhouse Eatin' Fine in Manhattan

In the East 50's there are some nice townhouses.  And a few nice places to eat.  David Burke has one, his Townhouse.  It is in a townhouse, so that makes sense for the neighborhood.  The reputation is powerful.  It is cuisine art.  Not so wild and scientific as Wily Dufresne.  But more recognizable and mainstream.

The bar is narrow and and cool.  We walked right past to the dining room, we meant business.  Ordering was not easy.  The menu is delightful everywhere you look.  Service is good, informal, friendly and helpful.  This is a place you feel comfortable, but be prepared to drop a bundle.  And they can mix a drink too.  I had a Manhattan, naturally.

The best part of the night was the rabbit.  We love the bunny, and at David Burke's Townhouse they know how to prepare it.  This well conceived trio had three tastes, each better than the other, culminating in a great rabbit confit.

When in Manhattan, and looking for a place to have a special meal, I would advise you to consider this place.  

Morimoto- Ronin of Excellence

The samurai chef stands above the culinary world like a giant.  No one messes with the man who takes culinary excellence personally, and has unmatched knife skills.

We finally ate at Morimoto in Chelsea. One problem. We waited too long.

Service- efficient and professional. Dishes whisked away when empty and replaced within seconds. Informal, informed, incomparable.

Have you had a California roll? We thought we had too. Now we know. So sorry we will never enjoy one again till we return. Sake? I thought it harsh. Morimoto' favorite food sake is amazingly smooth, clean and refreshing. Pricey, and worth it.

We had fish, his strong suit, though most people opt for waigu beef. The fish was prepared beautifully and with a lot of thought about subtlety. One issue, we found the halibut slightly over cooked. We are very particular about this, as Mrs Exechobo is one of the finest fish cooks in the Northwest.

The decor is perfect- sound antenuation is built into the look of being inside a giant clam shell. Clever and functional. All is cream, concrete and glass, and modern. A gigantic 24"X24" hewn timber is incorporated, as is appropriate in a Japanese temple. The restrooms incorporate the famous super-toilets the Japanese favor.

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Patsy's- Old School Uptown Dining

Back in the day, Sinatra owned Manhattan.  Some think this was the best of times, when celebrities were rare, and no one messed with 'em.  I don't know about that, but I do know they have been serving celebrities at Patsy's since 1944.  They make a brand out of it.  Located near the Lincoln Center, it is a great location for eating before the theater.  Sinatra, son of Hoboken, pronounced it his favorite place in Manhattan.  

I was familiar with the legend of Patsy's, having cited it to my team when developing concepts.  I hoped we would build something lasting, with hands-on involvement.  I should have visited first.  

The store front and decor are spot on- every touch-point is in alignment with what you want it to be, a 50s-60s kinda joint The Chairman would like.  We were looking forward to a decent old-school Italian res sauce meal.

So the web site is a good one, lotsa content, and well constructed.  Nice work being current.  No reservations though, so a phone call is called for, and when well.  When we arrived, and the hostess was revealed to be the old Nana, we understood.  She was pleasant and welcoming.  I thought: "Hmmm, the reviewers who said it was like a family establishment were right, and this will be fun!"  Then we met the Maitre d'.  We were then disabused of our erroneous thinking.  

We were told that our coats would now be surrendered.  NO COATS IN THE DINING ROOM!  I reluctantly did.  For the only time in Manhattan.  Nervously, I fingered my sweater, would I have to strip it off too?  Was the Maitre d' angling for a job with TSA?  My wife had on a light suit coat that they wanted to take too.  She clutched it, and before she could scream, I spoke up; "She is naked underneath! Do you want her naked in the dining room?!"   On the way to our table upstairs, I couldn't help but notice that many chairs had coats over the back of them.  Hmmmm.

When we sat, we were agitated and uncomfortable.  Maybe it is like going to a family member's home.  Like a crazy old aunt's.  We considered leaving, but the menu does look good.  We ordered some basic red sauce stuff.  The pasta was perfect.  Really good.  The sauce was exactly as it should be, delicious and unctuous.  

The price, by the way, is honestly advertised as being high.  Yes, high indeed, but if the service were not condescending, haughty, belittling, and aggravating, it would be OK.

So the upshot?  Find another place to eat Italian.  And if you want to look at celebrity photos as you eat, go to Katz' Deli.  The abusive service is expected and welcome there.  

Fornino- Lunching in Brooklyn is for the Strong

When in hip Brooklyn, pack a lunch.  Cause most places are closed in the daytime.  Brooklyn people are too hip for midday eating.  After three tries we found a place that was open, Fornino, proving that Brooklyn is magic.

The window says it is a good place for pizza.  I know pizza, making and selling it off and on for 40 years now.  I decide what is good.

When we went in, the place is like stepping into a storybook.  A book that contains all the details of a concept I worked on back in the day.  Oven featured as the center of the show.  Plain, cool, simple.

The menu is constructed in a really smart way- tracing pizza through three generations, from the early traditions, through the explosion of popularity in the US, to the art that Fornino considers theirs.  The Art and Science of Pizza.  I like that.

Great crust, and gorgeous toppings, cooked perfectly in their wood oven, in a cool place.  This is the deal in Brooklyn.  It is close to Serious Pie in Seattle, but this is the east coast.  If you are east of the Mississippi, this is worth a stop.

Black Shack- Burgers

Burgers are a thing in NYC.  Black Shack is a one location competitor for Shake Shack, BRGR, Five Guys, Burger Heaven, and the rest.

But I like Black Shack best.  The burgers are good, and cooked right on a flat-top.  The fries are good too, and the price is nice.  Worth a stop if you are in Midtown.

Fried food can hurt!

If you ask me that old question: "Suppose you could only eat one food, what would it be?" I always answer: "French fries!" there is no hesitation.

But lately fries have been subverted. Oh, they are still light, crispy sticks of golden goodness. The flavor continues to be the best culinary creation readily a available to the common man. But distorted gastronomical fashion now leads some places to use peanut oil. Five Guys, I mean you.

Perhaps they are unaware, but peanut allergy is now also all the rage. I was an early adopter, starting in 1954.

What this means is that 12 hours after eating peanut oil fries, I am doubled over in pain as my body attempts to eliminate what is poisoning it. Don't get me wrong, this is infinitely preferable to the anaphylactic results that come from eating part of a peanut.

But seriously, a warning would have been nice.  Or maybe all the peanuts all over the place was my warning?

Taim Falafel

In the SOHO this tiny falafel stand puts most of the rest to shame.  We first learned of Taim watching Bobby Flay compete to make falafel as good.  As I recall, he failed, and no wonder.  Here falafel are small, tender nuggets, bursting with moist flavor.  In a sandwich they are loaded in with tasty humus, sauce, and slaw into the best pita I have had.

There are about 5 seats, so get yours to go.  It holds up well.  I had the spicy one, that has Harissa in the mix.  Perfect amount of heat.  

Artisanal, Manhattan

Broke down banquettes. Pungent sweat sock smell of fondue.

We arrived to the minute for our reservation and and on the way to out table my head was on a swivel, looking at Manhattan's most beautiful people.

The service was professional, but unremarkable.  We were not pressed to order wine, but the winelist is very intriguing.  And expensive.  We had Skate wing, Branzini, Bean soup, Chocolate Marquise.  The branzini was cooked perfectly.  Moist inside and perfectly crispy outside.  The skate wing was even better.  Again, perfectly cooked, on a bed of delicious vegetables, with a puree of cauliflower. The bean soup was pureed to a creamy texture, as many French soups are, and had some nice pieces of hard sausage in it, that they called chorizo.  It was not quite as good as most bean soups. And the Marquise was the thinnest slice of a layered mouse cake.  The layers in between were meant to be pastry, but had soaked to the point of mush.  Nice, but not really great.

As we sat there I marveled at the giant cowboy rib-eyes going by, and wondered if this is a French fish restaurant, a chop house, or a fromagerie?  The cheese third of the concept was most to the forefront, its aroma always present.  Not a good thing when eating fish, which was about a third of the menu.  We also questioned the third of the menu that was chop house- so many plates of meat were being sent back.  Too bad for those who came together, and ate separately as one plate went back to the kitchen to be corrected while the other person ate theirs alone.

Artisanal is another schizophrenic restaurant, perhaps with three investors who wanted to open different places, but though "Hey! Lets put all three restaurants in one place!  Wouldn't that be cool?"  I would avoid this high dollar place on Park Ave.

L' Express

Our simple request, often insurmountable, was met with insouciance.  Water, no ice, served in copious amounts, room temperature.  Thus, we started the meal on a happy note.

L' Express decor is refreshingly French, not canned, hyper-French theme park decor.  It is well worn, simple, and tight.  The decor fairly represents the service.  This is a place to go for some decent food served with a simple, direct and fast style.  To me, it is a Bistro.  I will repeat the ancient urban legend, that when the Russians occupied Paris after Napoleon's defeat, Cossaks would storm into private cellars turned restaurants, shouting "Bystro! Bystro!", demanding food.  Of course, this is likely a myth.  But the cellar kitchens were specialists in simple food, usually braised, cheap cuts, served with no flourishes, at workingman's prices to supplement the rents paid by occupants.

At L' Express we had chicken sausage, onion tart, trout almondine.  Nothing was stunningly good, but everything was good.  And the value was exceptional. This is a place to return to, which in Manhattan, is high praise indeed.  We have a short list of places to go when our sense of adventure is dulled by work, places we count on for good food fairly priced when too tired to explore.  L' Express is on the list.

Copper Chimney

Murray Hill in Manhattan is an area with Indian restaurant on every corner. In some areas this is a literal statement. Competition is fierce.

I love this cuisine. It is as if the cradle of the spice trade took thousands of years to evolve flavor and cooking styles. Oh wait. They did! But for some reason they didn't work on service in that time.

We always take a walk to Lexington Ave to find an Indian restaurant, and make it our way to try new ones each time.  As we neared Lex, we went by Copper Chimney.  On the door it says "Tasty Indian Cuisine".  And it looked more like a restaurant that a curry shop, so in we went.

We are glad we did, for it was delicious!  In fact, so good was it, we have been back again.  Although the lemon pickles were about inedible, everything else made up for that.  Very subtle, clever use of spices.

Copper Chimney is worth a return trip- we will have to force ourselves to walk past it to continue exploration.

Mizu Sushi in Cranford

Sushi restaurants are our choice for a light break from normal travel fare.








I cut my sushi teeth in Japan traveling amongst the blue suit brigade, enjoying saki drenched evenings in Rapongi.

Mizu Sushi in Cranford, NJ is a worthy little place. It is warm and informal. One caution, if you need an Asahi ultra dry or Kirin, be sure to bring it with you. Liquor licensing in NJ is out of reach for little places like this.

The rolls are delicious and the tempura is as good as it gets outside of Kyoto.







Stop in when you are looking for a light meal.

Emma's Brick Oven Pizza

Some restaurants are emotionally evocative. A type that evokes emotion on the broadest possible scale is the pizzeria. I have seen people cry in focus groups when describing what a pizzeria meant to them. With so much potential at stake, getting it right yields big rewards. Like satisfaction for owners who see happy faces in the dining room.




Emma's in downtown Cranford, NJ is an up to date pizzeria. It makes no effort to replicate the old days, or the old country. It is not a carrying place with tables. And if they deliver, they have the courtesy to keep it quiet. The decor is simple and communal, like any pizzeria. Like any up to dat one, they use a wood burning hearth oven, and have to good taste to design it well and feature it as the focus of the whole restaurant.




But how about the food? My perusal of the menu could not get past the first item, a Margherita. Emma's is made with fresh buffalo mozzarella, crushed San Marzano tomatoes, ( the world's best due to the soils fertilized by volcanic ash), and a thin crust. Thin between New York and Napoli.  We ordered a "personal" size- good choice for two.

The pie was so good, I burned my mouth on it! Part of the joy of great pizza right from the oven- something no delivery can replicate. Nor can delivery replicate the delicate crisp of a thin crust.

We also had a bowl of white bean and escarole soup, one of the best soups I have had in a restaurant. Real care and love.we left happily stuffed. All this for a sawbuck, including tip.

Emma's dining room is always full of families enjoying each other over a pie. That is what a pizzeria is.

Local pizzerias make me happy. Searching for one makes me frustrated. Discovering one makes me triumphant.

A Toute Heure, or Jamais? A restaurant review

In the tiny centennial village of Cranford, this little gem is so popular reservations are required. But beware, don't let your expectations be set by this. The restaurant's size is the driver of this necessity, not its formality. In fact, once you do get a seat, the level of informality is, well, intense? Servers in tee shirts and jeans approach with "Hows it goin guys?" I expected him to sit down with us. A bit too Ruby Tuesdays even for this west coaster.

At first we were a bit taken aback by the latin music, but it thankfully went away.

One simple request that seems to consistently flumox service is "Water with no ice." Try it. You will see that less than 1 in 10 restaurants can deal with this seemingly simple request. If you get your first glass served correctly, wait for the bus boys to swoop in with a swearing pitcher of icey water to rectify the situation A Toute Heure failed. They thought they were OK, with just a few cubes of ice floating in our ice water, but of course, missed the point that water with no ice is not ice water. But this is not a restaurant with great service. They spend a lot on service, the server to table ratio was perfect. And they knew the menu and specials. But well trained? Not really. Earnest attentiveness is essential, but only half the equation. Here is what I mean. When peanuts were served with the butter (?), and we sent it away due to my allergy, I was informed peanut oil was used in the fryer. OK. Awkward moment. Is the server not mentioning something and I am a dimwit? Then I remembered I had ordered something fried. So we struck it from the order. That was that, and I was left disappointed. Why not suggest a substitute?

ATH, as they like to call themselves, are proud of their alliances with local producers. It is in your face everywhere. OK. I wish they had an alliance with some vegetable producers. On our two dishes there were a few sprigs of micro green something, and a grand total of three leaves of spinach . Really, just three. So it was meat and potatoes for us.

I had brisket. It tasted a lot like sauerbraten. It was braised to tenderness, so tender it was hard to tell where the meat ended and the fat began. So it took some care to ensure not to put the big globs of fat in my mouth. I avoided most of them. But really, pieces of fat about 1.25X3 inches? A bit extreme. Did the server notice? Of course not. Nor did he notice the skin on my wife's chicken thighs that the menu claimed were skinless and she enquired about, and he said had almost no skin on them. One restaurant truism is "fat is flavor", and so I would have expected more flavor at A Toute Heure, for the dishes were replete with oil, fat and grease, and not in a good way.

We passed on dessert. Our meal of a salad and two main courses ended with a bill for nearly $100. Fair value, like the fat on my brisket, had not been rendered. Even in a place as sophisticated as Cranford NJ, restaurants aren't all as good as they should be. We had looked forward to this meal for days. A hundred dollars is a lot of money to us. Our dessert from A Toute Heure was betrayal.

So, "A Toute Heure", or "Jamais"? Translation: At Any Hour, or Never? Since we go by this place often and it is often not open, and when it is, it is hard to get into, and when you do, it is not worth it, I say Jamais! Jamais!

Avenue East Restaurant Review

If your travels take you to Cranford, NJ, and your appetite is for updated Asian Fusion, Avenue East is the place for you.




On this trip we had Masaman curry, pineapple Thai shrimp, hot n sour soup, and potato and edamame croquettes. All were superior! Delicious. Well conceived, plated and executed.




Service at Avenue East still requires a sense of humor. Come here for the food, and be prepared to work at getting an order taken, and served, and so on. If you aren't a self important snob it's really no big deal. It seems like the owners don't mean it to be like this, but it also seems they may be clueless about the front of house. Just deal with it- the food is worth it.

Drive out of your way into downtown Cranford for Avenue East.

Collichio & Sons Restaurant Rant

Tom Collichio has made a reputation on television as a celebrity chef alongside Bobby Flay and Gordon Ramsay.  He can cook with the best.  But can he run a media empire based on food?

Reviewing a celebrity chef in NYC is gilding the lilly.  Professionals in the little circle of the restaurant trade make a living doing this.  Like Andrea Thompson in the New Yorker.  But as a paying patron, and restaurant professional, I recommend to other travelers where to go and avoid.  So here goes.

Eating in Chelsea is a challenge.  The quantity and variety of places make decision making a challenge.  After all, we can only eat in a limited number of places each day!  What a wonderful conundrum!

When kicking around the Chelsea neighborhood the other day, we were pleased to see another Collichio restaurant, having become fans of Craft.

We went in, an found a wait, but were very pleased to sit immediately at the kitchen bar, always my favorite seat!

From here we could see the workflow (our profession), the work skills, ticket flow, everything on the menu, and technique.  Happily, it was a pleasant way to spend the time while we waited.

The restaurant was full.  Service was non existent for us for about a half hour, but we were entertained.  We also noticed that with more than 100 seats full, the three cooks working the oven were not just in the weeds, they were in the forest.  Who designs a kitchen/dining room that is so far out of balance?  Imagine you and two friends cooking for a group of 100, ordering from a menu of about 30 items and expecting their food to be served within about 20 minutes.  Impossible?  Yes it is.

The menu is produced in a woodfired oven.  Simple.  I worked on developing such a concept and admire it.  Some of the food looked good, but the inconsistency was pronounced as food was produced at breakneck speed.  Three working individually, not coordinating or as a team.

Finally, we were served. Sort of.  We waited for water, to have the order taken.  All because of the imbalance between seats and kitchen capacity.  A fundamental design screw up.  Mr. Collichio?

When we received our food, still in good humor because of our proximity to the oven, the taste was good.  But on a pie that was featuring artisanal sausage, we had one, yes one piece of meat.  We watched as the pizza, too long on the paddle waiting to get in the oven, was stuck to the wood, and as the cook tried to shake it off in the oven, the toppings slid onto the oven deck.  Lost.  But when in the weeds so deep?  Get the food out!  Any food is better than a re-fire.  Our roast vegetable dish was portioned in a laughable way.  Rather than grab vegs from each container, the cook used a spatula, reaching under the arms of another cook.  She simply neglected to reach the brussels sprouts.  This was rectified when we complained, and we were graciously given a side order of sprouts.

The flavors were good, really good.  The entertainment was fun.  The service was forgivable.  The restaurant design and conception is abysmal.  People can't overcome bad planning.

Mr Collichio, has your inattention to the restaurants been completely overwhelmed by focus on your media empire?  We see this over and over again.  The need to promote the business turns into a belief that the chef is a brand.  The demand for growth makes each additional restaurant less representative of the original.  Not knowing when you go from chef/perfectionist/craftsman to executive/media star/personality.

Canterbury's Oyster Bar

Teddy Roosevelt's Oyster Bay was his home base. A world traveler and life- lover, his story is one of the most interesting of his era. We went there to be in touch with history, as we do.



Arriving hungry, we thought we would find a great place to eat. There were really just two options on a March midafternoon. Canterbury's is the one we chose.

It is a quaintly decorated place.




We had an oyster po boy and tuna sliders. They were good, decent food. The po boy was very substantial with a large helping of. Mashed sweet potatoes. The tuna sliders were dainty, and the accompanying "salad" was a thin slice of cucumber on each. Both tasted medium good, but seemed to come grime different kitchens.

If you are walking down Main St in Oyster Bay, this is a good place if it's on your side of the street.