Immaculate Infatuation

There was a time when this was the only restaurant anywhere near the Upper East side that we would make a trip for. J.G. Melon’s is one of the better burgers in New York City, and it had it’s 30th anniversary long before Shake Shack and Five Guys started opening up locations around town like Duane Reade. Nowadays there are a few more culinary bright spots in the area (namely Cascabel and Flex), but it seemed nessecary that we give J.G. Melon’s it’s due respect.

If you haven’t been, there are a few things you should know: it will inevitably be crowded, you need to drink beers by the bottle (not from the tap), and the service will not be friendly. But before you go running to Yelp to tell all your “friends” about how mean they were to you, consider this – it’s a New York institution that’s been serving burgers since TGI Friday’s was nothing more than a swinging singles bar down the street. Respect your elders and eat.

Photo Credit: Nick Solares/A Hamburger Today

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Before we get into this, let me preface this review by saying that we liked Rye quite a bit. It’s a solid restaurant with good food and nice people. But answer us this one question: how far will this old timey New York restaurant thing go? Rye is a Williamsburg clone of Prime Meats, another restaurant meant to evoke a time when they put bitters and witch hazel in cocktails to fight off the polio. You know when we’re really going to be impressed? When someone opens a joint in Fort Greene with no running water or electricity. I want to have dinner in a restaurant with no bathroom, just a chamber pot next to each table. That’s fucking old school.

Cranky observations aside, Rye is pretty great. The concept is definitely getting played out, but they did a good job with the place, and almost everything we ate was tasty and satisfying – particularly the sandwiches on the menu. The meatloaf sandwich is quickly becoming what the restaurant is known for, and the pork belly on a soft roll is like a big Americanized pork bun – fatter and cockier than it’s little Japanese cousin, and it loves freedom. Our only complaint is that the entrees can seem anti-climactic after the excellent starters and salads. Then again we probably shouldn’t have been eating sandwiches as starters in the first place.

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It has come to our attention that surprsingly few people that we know, know about Les Halles. Even card carrying Infatuation Platinum Diners rarely speak of the place, which is curious, because it’s our kind of restaurant. It’s simple, it’s inviting, and what they do, they do well.

Now, ask anyone with basic cable and spice rack about Bobby Flay and they should be able to spit out something about Mesa Grill…maybe even Bar Americain. But ask those same people about Anthony Bourdain, and unless they read Kitchen Confidential, I doubt you’ll hear much about Les Halles. Bourdain spent many years as the restaurant’s executive chef, and it’s still his “home base” according to the restaurant. So, if you count yourself among those who haven’t been, allow us to elaborate.

If what you know of Bourdain is entirely based on No Reservations, you might expect that a restaurant under his watch would be all about ethnic food, random animal parts, and booze (which, now that I think about it, would be amazing). But Les Halles is a straightforward French bistro, and it’s all about the steaks and the fries. The important thing to know if you’re going is this: don’t fuck around. Don’t go if you’re planning to skip the red meat and order a salad and a piece of salmon. Don’t go if you’re expecting four star French service and finger sandwiches. Go if you’re hungry for a steak and feel like working on a mid-day wine buzz. That’s how you do it.

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Last weekend, we went out for a buddy’s 30th birthday and wound up at the friends and family opening party at Rye House. Awesome. A timely new review sitting and waiting to be written without having to go out of my way. Perfect timing too considering both UrbanDaddy and Grub Street blew this place up that same morning.

The recent movement in NYC nightlife away from red ropes and bottle service might actually make this city fun to ‘go out’ in again. We’re huge fans of these new school drinking establishments that deliver the goods with their beer and cocktail repertoire, but also make sure the kitchen plays a big role in defining what they’re all about. Rye House is a perfect example of this trend. It’s not fancy or trying too hard. It’s the kind of place ideal for grabbing beers and grub with friends after work on a Friday night. When I think about bars in this city I actually enjoy hanging out in, Rye House definitely fits the mold.

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Refrigerator staples of the downtown twenty-something: a Brita pitcher, beer, string cheese, ketchup and a Crif Dog’s “Eat Me” weiner magnet featuring a babe in a bikini riding a hot dog. That’s some Infatuation friendly marketing right there. When I think about Crif Dogs, I’m brought back to the blackout of 2003. How amazing was that? NYC turned into one big block party. The night it all went down, Crif Dogs was the only place in the East Village that had power because they were smart enough to have a backup generator for exactly such occasion. So while everyone else was sweating it out while food spoiled, Crif’s happily cooked up dogs and topped off beers (on the house!) for the whole neighborhood. A classic NYC moment for sure, and a fond memory I’ll never forget.

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