Immaculate Infatuation

Maybe it’s all the high end boutiques and really cool people, but this neighborhood seems to be home to a lot of really nice things that, when you get down to it, actually suck. There are really nice little shops that only sell $400 button down shirts, beautiful streets that often smell like you’re taking a ride in a pee filled subway elevator, and a few pleasant looking restaurants that happen to be a big bummer. In that category, go ahead and file Brinkley’s, Travertine, and now Jo’s.

Jo’s is an aesthetically pleasing little establishment. It’s got the exposed brick, antique mirrors, chalkboards for specials – everything on the build-a-bistro checklist. The service is usually pretty good, in the sense that everyone is congenial, but it’s lacking that professional touch. The food is, at best, inconsistent, and we’ve had a few particularly bad experiences. A recent Sunday evening visit was a special kind of disaster. We dined at a normal dinner hour (7:00pm), but we must have caught the kitchen staff in the middle of a Boggle tournament or something. No food made it our way for nearly thirty minutes, (not even bread), and the table sat idle for inordinately long periods of time between courses. Once the entrees finally arrived, the two of us that ordered the special, a gumbo that tasted like burnt flour mixed with glue, sent it back, and were then served some kind of butternut squash soup that also sucked. Yikes. At the end of the day, a few decent dinner menu options and a serviceable brunch save Jo’s from a “Wasting Your Time and Money” tag, but really, this place is best saved for a cocktail or two.

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Local produce is hot right now, Padma hot. Last week’s Top Chef revolved around the local produce of Napa Valley (and Padma of course) and I feel like every restaurant I go to now is making a big fuss about it. Bandwagon initiated. Hop on board, drink some Blue Point and eat some pigs that grew up in Dix Hills.

This brings us to East Village newcomer Northern Spy Food Co. which recently popped up around the corner from Infatuation HQ and prides itself on serving – yes you guessed it – local produce. Interest was piqued when Eater posted Chef Nate Appleman’s tweet saying he had his “best meal of 2009″ here. It’s a chill spot, and they succeed in establishing the country vibe. It’s set up as both a sit-down restaurant and a take-out market. Think of it as Westville light with a smaller menu (that changes every week) and hotter waitresses. Northern Spy is a solid local hang with a very reasonable price point. It’s not necessarily a destination restaurant, but if you live in the hood, it needs to get into the rotation, if only to grab a beer poured from the taps protruding out of the wood paneled wall. We feel that.

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Even some of the greatest bands in the history of music release bad albums sometimes. It happens. The Stones somehow thought Voodoo Lounge was a good idea. Oasis’ Standing on the Shoulder of Giants is one of the more unlistenable records ever. I’m sure some people were into it, but U2’s disco phase of Pop was a mess with the exception of “Staring at the Sun” – that’s a damn good tune. Kingdom Come? Jay-Z actually put his name on that? Jigga … what? If anyone other than Radiohead released Amnesiac, no one would give a rat’s ass, and that admission comes from one of their biggest fans.

These same failures happen in the restaurant game all the time (see Daniel Boulud and DBGB). For all intents and purposes, the title of this review should be The Spaghetti Incident – the god-awful piece of turd Guns N’ Roses album that was somehow allowed to go public following Use Your Illusions 1 & 2. Danny Meyer my friend, Maialino is your very own Roman trattoria Spaghetti Incident. You’ve done just about everything right throughout your career, and, even with this misstep, we’ll always have your back. Eleven Madison Park, Blue Smoke, Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern and Shake Shack serve some of the best food this city has to offer. Naturally, since you’re the only restaurateur who owns two 9.0 ratings on our site, we put your work on a pedestal. We expect nothing but the best. Unfortunately, Maialino is a bust. Let us explain.

While the food isn’t terrible, it just didn’t strike us as inspiring, and the service was a train wreck. On three different occasions, drinks were ordered and simply not picked up from the bar until we reminded the waiter. After the bread (without bread plates), no one cleared the crumbs off the table … amateur hour. After each course, they took away your silverware but didn’t re-set the table until the next course was already down. Tough to eat food you’re supposed to share without plates or utensils. It was one thing after the next, and while it seemed like there were a ton of people working, there was zero cohesion. The cherry on the sundae was a nice long hair in the Brussels sprouts. Yum. Hey, at least we knew it came from someone’s head, right? To their credit, they did keep apologizing for the mishaps and comped dessert. Lastly, this whole traditional Roman trattoria thing is a joke. I mean, we’re in the Gramercy Park Hotel, and it just feels a little too contrived. Glued on, uneven wood beams play no part in holding up the structure of the hotel, and the dark maroon paneling that lines the walls is ugly and looks like cheap plastic. And what, no Gladiators? Maybe Russell Crowe is getting wasted next door at Rose Bar.

Let’s make one thing clear. Maialino is not an awful restaurant, but it’s not of the caliber we’ve come to expect from Danny Meyer. If this were anyone else, it might be a different story. Fair or unfair, that’s just the way it is. Just like Mick and Keith experienced, it’s tough to write “Satisfaction” every time out.

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Our somewhat unhealthy obsession with Momofuku and Ippudo might lead one to believe that’s the only Japanese ramen game in town. As any hardcore ramen enthusiast will surely tell you, that’s not the case. Although not as sexy or exciting as the aforementioned Infatuation staples, Setagaya serves a purpose as the best of the rest – a cheaper, quicker noodle alternative. Instead of long waits, steep prices and pork buns, Setagaya counters with a low key and authentic ramen experience. Like Ippudo, Setagaya is a New York outpost of a popular Japanese ramen chain. We’re not sure if the Japanese noodle slurping championships show on the ramen house TVs in Tokyo, but it’s awesome either way.

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I once saw a man at Shake Shack, dressed in a suit and setting a formal table. On the small metal table he placed a white tablecloth, fine silverware, a candle, and some flowers. For a moment, I was overcome with joy at the beautiful event that was about to unfold before me … this man was about to propose to a burger.

Unfortunately, a woman soon arrived and the man instead professed his undying love for her. Nonetheless, I was inspired, and had learned something important. I now realized that I could live a fulfilled and happy life devoted to a single hamburger – The Shack Burger.

There are two lessons to be learned from this story. First, Shake Shack is the burger by which all other New York City burgers are to be measured. This is hamburger perfection, and the epic lines are the only thing preventing weekly Infatuation visits. Second, there is a huge badass somewhere out there that proposed to his girlfriend over a burger and fries. Well done sir.

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