On our way to take in a flamenco festival at City Center, we stepped into Alfredo’s (4 W. 49th St., 212-397-0100) for cocktails. The staff is accommodating and drinks are complemented by plates of peppery marinated olives and chunks of Pecorino cheese. When the mood strikes, they pass around slices of paper-thin margarita pizza. Huge blowups of Al Hirschfeld caricatures comprise most of the decor. Zagat gives the food a ho-hum rating, which I can’t confirm either way, but the bar is a happy place and they give a generous pour.
Six of us met on a busy Friday night at Madangsui (35 W. 35th St., 212-564-9333), a new Korean barbeque joint. Our friend Young-Ju agreed to guide us through the menu, and in no time there were over twenty plates and platters crowding our table, barely leaving room for the hot grill in the middle of the table. Young-Ju diligently identified each dish barely seconds before the rest of us made the food disappear. It was all madly flavorful and diverse, not least the strips of marinated skirt steak cooked over the grill. The check averaged out to about $40, almost a bargain in a Manhattan context.
Of an entirely different order was our choice for a birthday celebration a year ago. We are long-time admirers of über-restaurateur Danny Meyer – as are most NY foodies – and his most extravagant outing to date is Eleven Madison Park (11 Madison Ave., 212-889-0905). He took over the ground floor of the ostentatious headquarters of an over-reaching insurance company. The space is no less than 38-feet from floor to ceiling, with giant floral displays at the entry and beyond (right). Reception is friendly and correct, the waitstaff both gracious and confident in their knowledge of the menu and none of them are a bit hovering or obsequious. The meal proceeds from a plate of artful one-bite nibbles to an amuse-bouche of foamy parsnip and ginger soup. They set the stage for such unusual but immaculate fabrications as potato gnocchi with shrimp and black truffles. We skipped dessert in favor of cheese samplings, which included a three-milk Italian La Tur, a French Tomme de L’Ariege, and a wedge of Echo Mountain, an Oregon blue combining raw cow and goat’s milk. That called for a 20-year-old tawny port. It was all flawless, from door to tab. Of course, it all came to over $350, and while this is a city where $500 dinners-for-one are no longer exceptional, we’ll regretfully have to wait for the recession to lift before we can return.