colicchio and sons

Saturday night was pretty darn perfect.

Which makes sense seeing as the entire day was spent riding an emotional roller coaster of terror which was kick-started by my "moving company" showing up Saturday morning, doubling their quote, spewing lies, unwilling to negotiate, and then left me. They. Left. Me. And as quickly as I learned that tears weren't going to get me anywhere, I was just as quickly graced with a series of anything-but-small-miracles that somehow fell seemingly into place; not only getting me from Point A to Point B but making the whole nightmare not just bearable--but dare I say enjoyable (even if I'm so sore as I write this, walking is a chore, and I just tried to cross my legs and let out a loud moan).

So Saturday night, too, turned out to be just as spontaneously perfect. As a reward to one of my handful of heros that day, I figured what better way than to blow the money that had originally been allocated for the world's worst human beings/movers than on a night of great food and drink. And after christening the new apartment with a glass of 2008 Domaine Weinbach Riesling Schlossberg Grand Cru (in my Riedel Riesling Grand Cru glasses. BAM!) we found ourselves at (a nearly empty) Colicchio & Sons and cozied up to the bar.

I've been a long time fan of Tom Colicchio, as I'm sure many of you have been too, and my experience at Craftbar had been pretty enchanting (the white anchovy bruschetta with slow poached egg and leeks orgasmically flipped my world upside down), yet Colicchio & Sons has somehow managed to sneak right by me, in a way. Of course I'd heard all about it from the many glowing reviews but I mysteriously never got around to formally adding it to my To Do List. And what an inexcusable mistake that was. Because the food last night was nothing short of special. Thoughtful. Seasoned to perfection. Not a single element overlooked.

After guzzling down our beers, we got to ordering: bacon-wrapped rabbit terrine with ver jus cherries and frisee (unREAL), a ricotta, zucchini, and squash blossom pizza with rabbit sausage, and stuffed shells with duck, ricotta, wild mushrooms, and sofrito. Every bite euphoric. Not a detail to nit-pick. And then a bottle of sparkling rosé was popped and poured and all the stresses from the day were asked to pack their knives and go. I had entered a state of pure elation.

It should also be noted that the Tap Room prices are extremely reasonable considering the quality of the food put out. And there's an understated sexiness to the space. A rustic mountain lodge meets the big city hybrid. Dark, yes. But deliciously cozy.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Colicchio & Sons

85 10th Ave. (at 15th St.)

FOOD: 39

SERVICE: 27

LOOK: 19

VIBE: 10

FINAL GRADE: 95

Image above courtesy of Serious Eats

FYI, I'm blogging from the wine bar "nook" in my new kitchen, and I'm freaking out with happiness. Just had to share.

craftbar

Let me preface this by saying that I think I experienced the most gluttonous long weekend of my entire life. I've never, ever been one to advocate crash diets but I might be glancing in that direction this week. Or at least drastically decreasing my solid food intake and O.D.-ing on diet coke, seltzer, and iced coffees.

Insane? Absolutely. Likely? Not reeeeally.

So yesterday, to keep on with the "throw all caution to the wind and continue to eat whatever you damn well please" we happened upon Craftbar. After perusing ABC Home followed by Fish's Eddy for new stemless wine glasses with my mom, she spotted Craftbar out of the corner of her eye. "How about that for lunch?"

How about that for lunch?! We were seated in a corner booth near the back and presented with their menu printed on brown craft paper for Sunday, November 29th (changes daily). I noted, with a bit of hesitation, that I'd never done any research on the restaurant and/or their menu. Something that I hadn't realized till then was a bit unnerving to me when in reality, it should be thrilling.

We decided to split the following: white anchovy bruschetta with slow poached egg and leeks, Spanish octopus with fingerling potatoes and lemon confit puree, and the veal and ricotta meatballs.

Not often (although more often than not as of late) am I blown away by food. And I mean really, truly, OMFG, I can't believe how unfreakingbelievably delicious everything is that I'm eating. But yesterday afternoon, I had one of those moments. The bruschetta could not have been more perfectly up my alley if it had tried. The briny, slightly sweet white anchovies mixed with the soft, silky slow poached eggs, hints of muted onion via the leeks, all served atop the epitome of perfectly toasted country bread. I could have been served two or three of these and called it a day. A week. A month! This was my perfect bite of 2009. Yes. I said it.


The Spanish octopus, too, was delectable. Not a hint of chewiness, the meat was gorgeously tender and quite substantial when paired up with a piece of fingerling potato, some delicately dressed baby arugula, and a swipe through the lemon puree. If the first dish was an A (are A+'s allowed?), I'd grade this an A-.


Lastly, the veal and ricotta meatballs arrived at our table and they were absolutely just that. Impeccably seasoned, and ridiculously juicy, I don't think I've ever encountered a meatball quite as good. Even the tomato sauce was mind boggling because of it's simplicity. There were very few ingredients going on (that I could detect) but each and every one was of such pristine quality, that little else was needed. If my stomach had allowed me to, I wouldn't have left a drop in the bowl.

But alas, my weekend food fest had finally started to catch up with me. I was officially stuffed. And thank God.

Tom Colicchio, it seems, knows absolutely what he's doing. Not that I ever really had a glimmer of a doubt, but everything was solidified upon dining at one of his many establishments. Craftbar, my friends, is kind of phenomenal. I can't wait until the next time I'm able to indulge.

That is, after this upcoming anti-solid food phase is over.

Craftbar
900 Broadway