Corton

Surprisingly, Paul Liedbrandt's highly recognized TriBeCa haunt was nearly dead on a recent--though rainy--Wednesday night. The dining room is spare anyway, in varied shades of white, so the emptiness feels even more obvious when the place isn't full.

Corton strives to be a four-star restaurant, but sometimes it misses its mark. Service is scattered and servers don't know the answer to obvious questions (like where their proteins come from, for instance). Utensils were often ill-suited for the task at hand (and I had to use my butter knife to scoop the sauce from one small bowl, left spoonless). My wine glass was near empty until a sommelier deigned notice. A series of amuse bouche--pastry filled with Sauce Mornay; a warm croquette; an egg custard with black truffle gelee that needed salt; a weirdly smoked quail egg; and a successful albacore tuna skewer with charred lime--underscored the ambition of the evening, even if they didn't all work.

Our first course of a puck of foie gras wrapped in beet, was dainty and beautiful, but not the best I've ever had. A course of monkfish was admirable cooked and sparely plated, with an accompanying warm oyster laced in foam and a lentil and onion soup.

A Wagyu beef course was a painting in black: a circle of beef crusted in black toasted brioche; a black oval of sunchoke; black truffle sauce on the plate; a square of short rib in more brioche; charred sweet onion; and a side of potato with a melting sauce inside.

Next: a gorgeous sesame custard with concord grape sorbet that surprised me in its elegance and restraint. Caramelized sesame on top offered the necessary crunch. Finally, an apple composition arrived, puff pastry filled with apples and a side of white coffee ice cream. It might not last forever in my dessert memory, but it was nice while it lasted, as was the parade of final notes: pate de fruits; chocolates; and macarons. I held court with a perfect glass of 1982 Coteaux du Layon.

The food is good, if a little too conceptual for its ilk. We'll see if it grows or shrinks with age.

*

Corton

239 West Broadway

New York, NY 10013

212.219.2777

The Black Plague

Yesterday morning, right around get-up-and-get-your-coffee time, Eater.com announced what most of us in the industry regarded as very big news.  Fiamma, the twice-incarnated B R Guest Italian Mecca in SoHo would be closing.  For good.  

Fiamma (originally known as Fiamma Osteria) was first reviewed in 2002 by William Grimes, the infamous New York Times restaurant critic who would eventually groom his protege, Frank Bruni, to take over the post.  Grimes awarded Fiamma and its chef, Michael White, three glistening stars o' Italian bliss.  

Bruni went back to Fiamma in the fall of 2007, once Michael White, setting sail for Scott Conant's L'Impero an Alto, was replaced by Washington D.C. import Fabio Trabocchi.  Bruni's review revealed a dazzling culinary performance by Trabocchi, plenty of organ meat and unexpected menu twists, an allegiance to Italy without a reliance upon traditional dishes that so often become public pleasers.  The little red monster, the Michelin Guide, also awarded Fiamma a coveted--and rare--single star during that same season.  

But in March of last year, Bruni followed up on his glowing three star review, offering pointed criticism to Fiamma, who had raised their prices in the wake of good press.  Once marketers of the $75 prix fixe meal, Fiamma boosted the dollar signs to a prohibitive $92 prix fixe meal, roughly the same price charged for a five course tasting menu at four star Jean Georges.  

They eventually dropped their prices again, and this fall Fiamma introduced a different kind of option, less expensive and more traditional "comfort" foods for American diners suffering from market collapse syndrome.  The bargain basement idea did not work and yesterday Steve Hanson, the restauranteur responsible for such monstrosities as Blue Water Grill and Ruby Foo's (the uptown branch of which was also a casualty in yesterday's Black Wednesday budget cuts) announced his plan to close what had always been regarded as B R Guest's star player. 

I've heard through the grapevine that the closings has some people down, most notably the company's wine director, Laura Maniec, who spent a great deal of time emphasizing quality Italian wine matched by superior wine service at Fiamma.  Certainly none of the group's other large/loud/lacquered restaurants live up to the sheer quality of Fiamma.  And in time, it's possible to expect more of those shiny hot spots to close as well. 

The Eater.com board posited that what Fiamma's closing indicated was a possible sea of trouble for the City's three star restaurants, of which there are now about 40.  My prediction is probable closings for the following members of the triple S club: WD-50, Dovetail, Adour Alain Ducasse, Corton, Picholine, Town, and Perry St.  

Why the pessimism, you ask?  For one, the three star, as I've written before, belies a special experience, and one that is reserved for more economically fortunate times.  People save up to eat at three stars.  They make reservations for anniversaries and birthdays, but they don't dine in these tableclothed havens on the regular.  The three stars most likely to succeed are the New York institutions that do have followings from the locals.  Gramercy Tavern ain't going anywhere, and Momofuku Ssam Bar isn't, either.  Gotham Bar and Grill, Eleven Madison Park, and Union Square Cafe may cost a pretty penny, but don't expect them to fold anytime soon. 

The newer and more experimental restaurants face the most trouble.  Restaurants who once eschewed food cost so that they could "bring exciting food to the public" may eventually change their tune.  Think Momofuku Ko makes a killing with their $100 tasting menu?  With high end items like uni, caviar, and truffles on the menu, you can think again.  Expect either a reining in of unusual and special foodstuffs or an inevitable menu price hike, which is exactly what people don't need right now. 

All around the city prices are dropping.  For a foodie, it's wonderful news.  In order to survive, expensive spots will have to concede to the demand generated by rising unemployment rates.  That is to say, they're going to have to offer the dreaded "deal."  

This might be good news, it really might.  All of the Frank Brunis out there, who desired a level playing field, may get their final death rattle of a wish.  I won't be holding my breath for Per Se or Masa to drop the prices on their tastings (respectively $200 and $300 per person, before alcohol), but there may be other silver linings to look forward to in lean times.  We'll just have to wait and see.