Immaculate Infatuation

Fatty ‘Cue is apparently out to bring “a little Southeast Asian fermented funkiness” to Williamsburg. Something is funky alright…my stomach and their math. Everything in this place is overpriced and underwhelming. We got suckered into actually buying toast with a side of grease, cleverly marketed as “Master Fat”. “Master Fat” is what Fatty ‘Cue decided to call all the drippings at the bottom of the smoker so they could sell it. Pretty smart. But let me ask this question – how the f*ck can that taste like nothing? As a matter of fact, everything that we’ve had on the menu has been met with that same underwhelmed sentiment. Smoked duck that is then fried and served with curry? Somehow it just tastes like a piece of duck. Brisket pork bun sandwiches? Not good. And judging by how much beef comes on the plate, cows must be rare like California Condor these days. Not even the ‘Cue coriander bacon lived up to its billing, and that’s probably the best thing we’ve eaten at this place.

Honestly, we’re fans of Fatty Crab and Cabrtito, and we love BBQ, so we figured we would land on the side of like with this polarizing new restaurant. We tried, but at the end of the day, we just can’t get excited about mediocre food…especially when brisket costs $37 a pound.

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Let’s get down to it. If White Slab stuck purely to booze, the Infatuation would have no beef here. It’s actually a reasonable, albeit expensive bar. Any and all complaints stem from their culinary attempts. Upon entering White Slab we were told that all the dining tables were “reserved” even though the place was empty. Cut to an hour and a half later when our food finally showed up (note, they brought out apps and entrees at the same time), those tables were all still empty. We were forced to choose between the bar and their “lounge area.” We chose the lounge – two battered, mildew infested chairs and a couch, all surrounding a low bench posing as a table. The couch is reminiscent of one you may find in any Salvation Army/college dormitory/frat house/you get the point. Makes you really want to dig into their raw bar, right? It’s pretty curious that half the Slab’s overpriced, cash only, Scandinavian flavored menu is fish. Oysters are not exactly what I want to be eating in a restaurant with dirtier bathrooms than Lit Lounge.

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After a recommendation from an Immaculate Board Member (since put on probation, sorry Fred), we headed to Sagaponak, a new-ish restaurant that’s flown under the radar and free of much online buzz or chatter. With an empty stomach and open mind, we went in hoping to find a diamond in the rough. Unfortunately, Sagaponak turned out to be less upscale Hamptons and more dirty summer share house. It takes more than a few shells on the wall to transform an otherwise non-descript space into a “beach” restaurant. Courtesy Flush, you definitely want to check out and review the ladies room here, the females at our table couldn’t stop talking about it. Sopranos gone fishing. The service was pleasant, but MIA most of the time. Water glasses remained empty for the majority of the meal and never once were we made to feel like they gave a crap that we existed. We were one of three occupied tables in the restaurant, so where the help was and what they were doing is a mystery to me. Maybe they were playing Pro Kadima in the kitchen.

With the exception of the oysters, which were surprisingly affordable and quite good, the appetizers were a huge disappointment. After those were cleared away the service went dark. Like, we didn’t even see a Sagaponack employee for a solid half hour to forty-five minutes. We hoped that the wait meant that they were putting some extra love into our entrees, but sadly that wasn’t the case. You can read all about the underwhelming Applebee’s fare in the food rundown. Bottom line, there are too many good seafood restaurants in this city to waste your time with Sagaponack. In the same way that families out East will be packing up their homes and closing up shop at the end of the summer, we wouldn’t be surprised to be waving goodbye to Sagaponak for good come September.

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Amidst a near hurricane a few weeks back, we needed a restaurant in a pinch – something within walking distance from a 30th birthday venue in the West Village. We wound up at Home Restaurant, which turned out to be an unfortunate move. You can’t make the right call all the time, and while we don’t necessarily enjoy trashing a place, we don’t want you making the same mistake we did. This was bland, unimpressive, and expensive eating and what’s worse – it’s a “critics’ pick” in NY Mag. We still can’t figure what these “critics” are basing their “picks” on (also see Accademia Di Vino). Luckily, you’ve got us for that now.

We really wanted to like this place. The vibe reminded us of a West Village version of Infatuation favorite Tree – a cozy neighborhood bistro complete with a little garden in the back. We really did like the space, and it’s unfortunate that the food and service incited wrath inside of us. Things actually started off strong. A plate of chocolate chip cookies greets you upon entry, and you know how we feel about our cookies. But, it was all downhill from there. The service is slow and apathetic for no reason, and the food was just downright bad. Now we understand why their main claim to fame is homemade ketchup. With so many good restaurants in that area, we’re surprised that Home has managed to stay open for ten years. I guess that’s what that “critic’s pick” buys you.

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The hype on Porchetta is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Has a sandwich of any kind, even a burger, ever garnered this much critical acclaim? In print, online and across NYC food nation, people are wetting themselves over Porchetta’s Tuscan style pork sandwich. People treat it like a Wes Anderson directed movie that Thom Yorke did the soundtrack for and Megan Fox shows her tits in. It’s absurd!

We’re not shy about hopping on the bandwagon when something deserves it and fully expected to be front car on this trip. Unfortunately, despite repeat visits and plenty of chances the verdict is in; this sandwich is disgustingly overrated. The pork is less than plentiful and too dry, the bread nowhere near moist enough and way too thick. Sure, it’s reasonably tasty and for $9, it’s a bargain according to NYC standards, but the praise is completely unwarranted. The Porchetta sandwich ranked #1 in Time Out’s “Best Thing We Ate This Year” spread, while NY Mag can’t stop writing about Porchetta (they prominently featured it in the “Where To Eat 2009″ issue). The bottom line is that it’s just not all that. The hype on Porchetta is just that – hype!

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