anthos, revisited

I'm a firm believer in rating a restaurant in terms of their consistency. Their ability to routinely deliver fabulous food, night after night, day after day, service after service. Accountability is something I take very seriously in all aspects of my life. You've got to be dependable. I have to be able to trust you before I let you in. And restaurants are certainly no different. Especially during Restaurant Week.

Anthos is like my predominately Greek, mostly Mediterranean rock. Each and every time I've been so lucky as to indulge in Michael Psilakis's food, I'm moved. By the eloquence and enchantment of his food. It's difficult to simply label his cuisine as Greek because while there are certainly constant reminders of his roots (feta, mint, olives are quite apparent) they're used with restraint and thoughtfulness. Each dish is sprinkled with a whisper of Opa to remind you of Psilakis's perpetual source of inspiration; his passion.

And boy oh boy can the man cook and create with invigorating passion.

Shortly after you're seated, a platter of small bites are presented before you: tiny lamb meatballs sitting atop tzatziki, chickpea fritters dipped in a lemon confit aioli, fried pitas the size of a quarter are served with a dollop of taramosalata and a small dish of marinated olives armed with toothpicks to attack. Dip, swirl, and nibble your way through the thoughtful selection as you graze through your menu. Smile at your impeccably dressed dinner date.

An amuse bouche was then sent out from the chef: a shot glass of warm butternut squash soup with truffle. One sniff of the soup and you're nearly punched in the face with the intoxicating aroma of truffle meets sweetness. Even as a person indifferent to soup, I could have been happily served a bowl of this daily. And lick the darn bowl clean.

To start, I chose the house cured gravlax with greek yogurt, kalamata olive and lemon. An obvious choice for me -- I can't turn down raw or cured fish. It's a near physical impossibility. Simple, clean, and lovely. The somewhat salty salmon was particularly enjoyable when delicately dragged through the creamy and tangy greek yogurt. A dish that I'd love to try and recreate for a special dinner sometime soon.

On the other side of my table for two, sheep's milk ricotta dumplings with spinach, leek, and feta arrived. When it was my turn to gently press my fork into one of these beyond delicate dumplings and swirl it around this beyond creamy sauce, I swooned. I could have bathed in this sauce. For days. So rich yet somehow light and sinfully delicious. I wanted an over sized bowl to my selfish self.
Every time I've been to Anthos during Restaurant Week, I've ordered fish. But this year, I threw everyone for a loop and ordered the roasted chicken with walnut, feta, olive tapenade, oyster mushroom and squash. Something about tender roasted chicken on a decidedly bitter and windy night, spoke to me. Enticed me. And so I went with it. Superiorly juicy with hints of cinnamon and a mysterious sweetness from what I think was a thin slice of apple. An extraordinarily comforting dish.
A Fred Flinstone-eque pork shank was served up across from me: slow braised pork shank with fennel, trahana, orange, and green olives. The meat collapsed off the bone as soon as a fork was within hovering distance. Ridiculously soft and tender and when I was served my perfect bite, I was sure to have a piece of cool, razor thin cucumber in the mix. My eyes shut. I exhaled slowly. Then looked up and smiled as I sipped my Greek rose which had wild strawberries for days wafting on the nose.

Alas, it was time for dessert. The course which I never have room for nor ever really care for. But when it's a yogurt mousse with pineapple and mint, you understand why there's an exception to every rule. Not the least bit too sweet, in fact, most of the sweetness was delivered via the tiny golden cubes of naturally sugary pineapple and cut by a delicate chiffonade of mint. Three gorgeously silky bites and I was officially spent.

The approachable inventiveness of the food at Anthos is what keeps me coming back again and again and again. Psilakis is certainly pushing boundaries but keeps them within a delicious yet unintimidating realm. And I really, truly, 110% urge each and every one of you to enter it.

FOOD (now out of 40*): 38

SERVICE (now out of 30*): 29

LOOK (now out of 20*): 18

VIBE (now out of 10*): 8

FINAL GRADE: 93

*I feel as if this new breakdown will deliver more appropriate results. Food and service are far superior, in my book, to look and vibe, and will therefore weigh heavier.

winter restaurant week: anthos

Ok, so I know that a lot of foodies out there have a thing against Restaurant Week. About how both the food and service lack because the restaurants don't want to deal with the overwhelming demand of "cheap" eaters flooding in. In my experience, I could not agree less. It's the perfect time to check out those restaurants that are otherwise entirely out of your price range. And thus, I digress.

This past summer, I de-flowered myself as a Restaurant Week virgin. I was late to make reservations and as such, was only able to score a table for four at Anthos (the restaurant of my choice) at 10:30pm on a Tuesday night. While not ideal, I always look forward to a night of dining out, as do my food-loving companions, so to Anthos we went.

The meal was ethereal. I really mean that. Everything about it was absolutely incredible and carried out impeccably. My second time around, was equally amazing.

The night started off with a cocktail recommendation from the bartender. While my eye immediately went towards the quince margarita, he immediately disagreed and steered me in the direction of a greek-inspired cosmopolitan (grey goose vodka, raspberry puree, grape ouzo, and campari). The name absolutely escapes me (vloumara or something along those lines?), but it was delicious, if not a tad bit too sweet.

As soon as we were seated, a waiter came around with a platter of small, little bites. Some greek cheese fritters, some sort of fish fritter with tzatziki sauce, small pieces of fried pita with taramasalata, and some delicious citrus and herb marinated olives. A perfect way to start things off.

Next came an amuse bouche: a shotglass filled with warm cauliflower soup topped with fried brussell sprout leaves. Creamy, sensous perfection. I wanted more. We all wanted more. It was creamy without leaving an overly buttery feeling in your mouth. It was the way all soups should taste and feel.

We ordered a bottle of Greek red wine for the table: Agioritiko "Red on Black" Mitravelas - 2006. Fruity without being overwhelmingly sweet. Perfect with the meal and just to sip.

For my first course, I ordered the raw meze: raw fluke with whipped feta, smoked chili, and scallion oil.

I had had the raw meze during the Summer Restaurant Week when it was accompanied by fresh apricot, an herb oil, and crushed pistachios. Sublime. A really, really special moment when I put that first bite in my mouth. I couldn't help but sit there with a stupid smile on my face, almost drunk with happiness. The winter version was also delicious but sadly, the sweet, subtle taste of the fluke was slightly overpowered by the creamy whipped feta and raw chili on top. Still, I have no serious complaints about this dish. It's also presented in a sexy, by means of simplicity, manner.

Next came the entree. Roasted arctic char with orange puree, hazelnut, gigante bean, and mint.

Again, heavenly. The arctic char was just barely cooked through, leaving it silkier than imaginable and with the bright citrusy, orange puree with little hints of mint combined with orange segments, big, creamy gigante beans, and wilted arugula hiding underneath...all on one fork...all worked together to make it a truly perfect bite. The salt, sweet, creamy, citrusy, bright combination never fails to please. When you hit each every one of those notes in the same dish, you've got something special. And for lack of a better word(s), freaking amazing to eat.

Dessert, which almost felt like it came too soon, was a butternut spice cake with candied cranberries and smoked cinnamon parfait. It tasted like Thanksgiving on a plate...and you'll hear no complaints from me about that. It was sweet without being too sweet, the highlight on the plate being the smoked cinnamon iced cream.

I also have to comment on the service at Anthos. The waitstaff could not have been friendlier or more accomodating. They were eagerly there to answer any and all questions without being at all in-your-face. I wish I had written down the name of our waiter...totally charming and a John Krasinski look alike. Aka the man of my dreams. How did I let this opportunity pass me by?!!?

All that said, our meal at Anthos was incredibly memorable and spot-on. Unfortunately, it's a restaurant that I can by no means afford outside of restaurant week, but I will cherish each and every time I have the amazing opportunity to dine here. Because for the time being, this place goes down as my favorite place to eat in Manhattan.

There, I said it.

Chef Michael Psilakis, I'm single. And waiting (You too, waiter, sir).


Anthos
36 W.52nd St.
(212) 582-6900 (reservations can also be made on www.opentable.com)