Entrees were a little less uplifting. A special of mussels and French fries was not only woefully undersalted but also a little too redolent of the ocean. They smelled and tasted a little old, regrettably. Steak tartare was a true winner, salty and creamy and filled with capers that popped in the mouth. But the bechamel on a baked dish of macaroni and cheese wasn't quite the soft and supple creamy I craved.
And even though I found the mission fig tart for dessert a little dry, an ice cream sundae, threaded with toasted coconut clusters and sour cherries, made up the difference. We got a lot for our money and if I happened to live in the West Village, I might find myself stumbling in every few nights for a plate of those wings and a hot dog.
118 Greenwich Avenue
New York, NY 10011