All the dish: one-of-a-kind restaurants in a one-of-a-kind town

Interview, Feb, 2003 by Brad Goldfarb

In the spirit of this special issue I went in search of the sorts of authentic, one-of-a-kind places Holden Caulfield himself might feel at home in--the type of restaurants that can be counted on for a good crowd, a relaxed setting, and cooking that's at once unique, low-key, and anything but phony. As the following reviews attest, the spirit of originality is indeed alive and well in Manhattan's kitchens.

ALIAS 76 Clinton St.; 212-505-5011

New York City restaurants looking to differentiate themselves from the pack would do well to take a page out of Alias's book. The latest from the team that brought 71 Clinton Fresh Food and aKa Cafe to this suddenly rejuvenated block of the Lower East Side, Alias finds inspiration not in the hallowed kitchens of far-flung culinary capitals, but in its own backyard--specifically the Jewish and Latin American communities that give the neighborhood its distinctive flavor. This extends to the exterior, where they have preserved the facade (colored Christmas bulbs included) from its previous incarnation serving "comidas latina." Inside, the small dining room is considerably more streamlined, with recessed lighting, new wood floors, and banquettes hugging the walls. It's in the kitchen, however, that Alias's unorthodox approach truly reveals itself. Just consider the restaurant's pickle plate, the sort of item you'd expect to find at nearby Katz's Delicatessen but which here is reimagined as a bright assortment of brined carrots, celery, garbanzo beans, and half a vinegar-infused hard-boiled egg. Though the restaurant's house-cured sable is no match for the classic variety available a few blocks west at Russ & Daughters, the white bean and gouda soup was thick and flavorful, while the meaty lamb spareribs offered up the perfect candied crunch. Entrees are graduates of the Jewish grandmother school of cooking, with braised brisket, an earthy stroganoff (albeit with pork), and a fine grilled hanger steak served atop potato skins stuffed with creamed spinach. Finish things off with the exotic bay-leaf pudding, and chances are you'll soon be plotting your return.

GIORGIONE 307 Spring St.; 212-352-2269

Recently a colleague with a trusted palate asked me if I'd eaten at Giorgione, a new restaurant on the far west reaches of Spring Street. "I've eaten every meal there for the past two weeks," she confessed. I had to admit that I hadn't even once, a condition I silently vowed to correct as soon as possible. Arriving at the restaurant that evening, I could see why my associate had made Giorgione her personal canteen--with its long zinc bar, blazing fire, and tiny white mosaic tiles twinkling underfoot, the restaurant immediately recalled any number of favorite hangouts over the years--the sort of place that managed to be rigorously designed while utterly welcoming. None of which was particularly surprising once I learned that the man behind the operation was Giorgio DeLuca, cofounder of NYC ubermarket Dean & DeLuca. As one would presume from the restaurant's name, Giorgione specializes in Italian cooking, and on that first visit I started with a lively serving of eggplant Parmesan, followed by a filet of perch, perfectly paired with sauteed artichokes. I also helped myself to several generous forkfuls of my companion's veal chop--the meat itself was a tad tough, but the mushroomy brown sauce proved irresistible. Other menu standouts include warm mozzarella with green beans, sliced sirloin with radicchio and Parmesan, and any of the fine pizzas or pastas. Atkins adherents will be pleased to know that dessert options include a cheese plate, but it was the pear tart and Linzer torte that left my posse begging for more. Though Giorgione may still have some kinks to work out, it's the kind of place that makes you want to overlook any shortcoming and (metaphorically, of course) carve your name in the bar. Like my colleague, you may never turn on your stove again.

PRUNE 54 East 1st St.; 212-677-6221

At a time when too many New York City dining establishments seem to have sprung from the same restaurant mill, it's refreshing to find a place like Prune that's so unlike anything else. It doesn't hurt that the restaurant is the creation of a single individual, Gabrielle Hamilton (who serves as both proprietor and chef), or that her serious yet free-spirited approach to food is as clear as a dinner bell. In fact, part of what makes Prune so endearing is that it offers all the charm of a backyard production while at the same time maintaining an air of utter professionalism. That attitude is apparent in everything from the restaurant's stripped-down dining room--tightly packed with salvaged furniture--to the easygoing, attentive staff, to the quirky menu, which seems to have been influenced in equal measure by everything from American culinary classics (pickled tomatoes at dinner, cream of wheat at Sunday brunch) to combinations associated with other eras altogether (sardines with Triscuits). Add to this a seas onally driven menu with an emphasis on fresh produce, and you begin to get a sense of Prune's appeal. But the restaurant's biggest draw is the quality of its cooking, which is at all times heavy on muscular flavors that are hard to resist. On one recent visit a group of us started our meal with servings of velvety Serrano ham accompanied by fresh figs and toasted pistachios, as well as a plate of fried oysters; both were gone in minutes. The homey bacon-wrapped pork chop (a personal favorite) was missing in action and had not yet reappeared at press time, but other favorites remain, including a wonderfully flavored rib eye and a whole grilled fish (most recently Branzino) enlivened with fennel oil. For dessert both the Breton butter cake and pistachio puff pastry are standouts, though it's the chunks of broken chocolate that arrive with the bill that ultimately provide the perfect home-spun finish.