“…it is the instabilities of cuisines, a phenomenon that makes the very concept of cuisine problematic that interests me the most. In a reality of constant flows, nothing stable that can be labeled a “cuisine” takes form any longer. Fusion is not a cuisine and is not referred to as such by the people who fuse foods and flavors, or by the ones who talk about it. People speak of "fusion cooking," a label that speaks of a practice, not of "fusion cuisine," a label that denotes a stable formation.”

– Minjoo Oh, Venerable Home: Fusion Cooking and Nouvelle Cuisine

New York City – “I don’t covet banquettes,” I had to say to the cheerful and welcoming maitre d’ who’d just informed me that banquettes were “the coveted tables”. Especially in a room painted off-white, with high-backed round ones, those narrow cushions that make me feel like I’m about to slide onto the floor underneath my table, all in some shade of off-white – seating myself in it I immediately thought of an egg. Yes, that was it, I was sitting inside an egg. All alone, and waiting for my friends. No, give me a window table, that one over there, no, I don’t care that it’s the far corner of the restaurant, it’s the bright and cheery corner, where there’s light, and the movement of people on the street, and I can see the waiters bustling about in the room. True, I can’t see most of my fellow diners, they’re happily ensconsced in their coveted eggs awaiting their mama waitress – besides, if Bar Q, 308-310 Bleecker (do they need to publish both addresses? Wouldn’t just the one where the door is do?) in the West Village, 212-206-7817, is as popular as I hear, we’ll soon be surrounded by others.

While I await my friends’ arrival, as they await the traffic from the Holland Tunnel to clear, I order a Japanese Pickeltini. I hate cutesy names for drinks, and they abound here, but the descriptions are not all gushy and flowery, they’re straightforward, and a blend of Hendrick’s Gin with Cucumber Ice and Japanese Pickle arrives in short order – it’s briny, perhaps a touch too much so, and not as cold as it might be, but then, the Cucumber Ice is upon a skewer in the shape of a cucumber and a bit of swirling it about lowers the temperature quickly while leaving lacey green trails through my drink. It pairs well with a couple of oysters and a clam upon their shells, served with a completely unnecessary lineup of three dipping sauces and a smoked salt. Fresh bivavlves on the half need no such adornment, and these are fresh, pristine, and delicious. I sample the three sauces “we are serving this season” (oh, how precious) separately and they are indeed delicious, perhaps with the array of shrimp cracker type “bread” that arrives later? I realize, as I sip my pickletini, that I’ve already spent as much as I’d have spent at a good restaurant in Recoleta – on a full three course dinner, with wine. [Closed.]

No matter, I am here, my first meal out in Manhattan for this visit (we won’t count the bagel with lox and cream cheese that I grabbed to eat while relaxing at my friend’s apartment), and I knew it was going to be expensive. My friends (others, not the one I’m staying with), arrive in short order, and we delve into the menu. As I’d hoped, it looks like a wonder of casual asian fusion – the chef, Anita Lo, and I go back many years… a story that bears telling some day – and I’ve had many a delightful dinner at her “other” spot, Anissa, which I recommend highly. The dishes all sound intriguing, and we quickly decide to just keep ordering until we’re stuffed, letting the food come as it’s ready since we’ll be sharing it all, and not worrying about courses. The wine list is also an interesting collection – a hodgepodge if you will, of wines from throughout the world. It’s not priced for those on a budget, but then neither is the restaurant – most of the wines on the list range from $50 on up to well over $100. We settle on a bottle of Movia Ribolla – a rich, aromatic white from Slovenia that I’ve tried before, and it doesn’t disappoint.

Unagi and scallion fritters arrive as delectable, flavorful balls of fish with a sweet ponzu dipping sauce and quickly disappear – what fried eel ought to aspire to. Deconstructured steamed pork buns show up as meltingly tender pork belly encased in a crunchy shell of pork skin, the buns laid open like a butterfly to sandwich the meat, some not so spicy kimchee and a fresh herbal sauce – good, but a little more kick to that kimchee wouldn’t hurt. The tuna, oh the tuna – served “three ways” – chili rubbed tuna belly, delicious, firey, we gobbled it up; tuna “marrow” – we don’t get it, teensy blobs of clear jelly floating about in a yuzu sauce – perhaps as a shot or something, but tuna marrow just doesn’t make it in the marrow world; and the ribs – yes, tuna have ribs – think about it, they’re big fish, with big bones – and these ribs are seasoned and smoked and a pile of them have us rolling our eyes in praise. Too, there is something called Garlic Fried Milk – our waitress described it as garlic infused milk that’s been thickened with cornstarch and then fried – which did little to edify the situation, but it still sounded intriguing – it’s available on its own, or as an accompaniment of what turns out to be amazingly good and tender spice-rubbed lamb, but for us, the lamb is the accompaniment, and an unneccsary one at that, to something so simple, but so amazingly good.

There are missteps… well, perhaps no, not missteps, just lesser dishes, dishes that didn’t instill us with the sense of satisfaction that these others did – lobster tail, tender, but unflavored, bland perhaps, and perched atop some sort of rolled up something – well yes, that’s about as stand-out as it was. A selection of sashimi atop sushi rice – all fresh, and a nice selection – nothing wrong with it, and perhaps if it had arrived as the first item to share over cocktails, it would have stood out more, instead of as the last item after a series of delicious assaults of spice and swirling flavors. A seafood stew – a very pleasant mix of fish and shellfish in what purported to be an anchovy and kimchee broth – tasting of neither when a combo like that should have stood out as the flavor blast of the evening, no? A nice gift from the management (Anita was off at the other restaurant, so we didn’t get to see her) of smoked salmon slices with a smoked salmon roe vischysoisse was… smoky.

The interesting thing is that our trio, each with very different palates, are quick to acclaim the same trio of items as the true standouts – the unagi and scallion fritters, the smoked tuna ribs, the garlic fried milk. I would be blissfully happy with just those… though the tab, coming in at just a shade under $110 apiece with tip, reminds me that we’re neither in Buenos Aires (where that would pretty much be my food budget for the week) nor Manhattan, Kansas, but the isle of Manhattan. Time to dust off those long-unused credit cards….

I have been a fan for many years of Anita Lo’s Anissa, which I would sum up as elegant, fancy food, with Asian fusion touches. Bar Q is the reverse – Asian fusion, with touches of elegance, and as such, it works brilliantly.

[I left the camera back at my friend’s place, though snapped a few shots with the phone, only to realize I don’t have the cable for the phone to transfer them to the computer – I’ll add them in when I get back home.]

“Life, you know, we gotta take it all in stride.”

– Alberta Wright, Chef/Owner, Jezebel’s

Buenos Aires – For almost exactly the same 23 years I lived in New York, there was a restaurant on the southeast corner of 9th Avenue and West 45th Street, called Jezebel’s. It was, to some, an “upscale soul food” dining spot, though the question of exactly whose soul, and whether or not it was upscale easily came into play. It wasn’t somewhere I went to regularly, maybe half a dozen times in those two decades, but there was something about it that always captivated me, and that was the ambiance. The best term I can come up for it would be “studied flea market”… or maybe “artfully arranged hodgepodge”. Nothing in the place matched anything else – every piece of silverware, glass, plate, bowl, linen, napkin, curtain, chair, table, was different from every other. Yet, somehow, it all worked together, both visually and psychically, it was impossible to be in the place and not feel like you’d just stepped into another world, and at that, a world where you were safe and taken care of, with a bit of romance in the air (Ms. Wright, quoted above, has also been quoted as saying “As long as you’re in love, you can sit close,” perhaps a nod to the neighborhood’s sex trade seediness. Jezebel’s is now gone, recently I gather, along with her short-lived branch in Paris – another story for another time.

[This place has closed.]

It took a minute to register when we walked into Desde el Alma, Honduras 5298, 4831-5812, in Palermo… there was something about it… Not that it’s the same atmosphere as Jezebel’s, at least, not quite. The place has its own style – more rustic, a sort of rambling, ramshackle home with, instead of mismatched draperies and linens and such, it’s more knickknacks and lamps, and a certain penchant for branches and sticks stuck in odd places, mostly the ceiling. And it’s not quite the 100% carefully chosen and arranged disparate elements, some of the chairs match, there are sets of four or six of a kind glasses, sometimes on the same table. But it has that same air of warm indifference, a sort of “come on in to our home and don’t worry about it” that instantly had me feeling relaxed and… at home. A fire was burning in the fireplace off to one side, a few loungy chairs and a couch circled around it, tables scattered in nooks and crannies, the bathroom, the men’s room at least, has a tub with shower and a couple of bath towels on a cabinet shelf… you could just lock the door and… never mind. It’s been billed by some as one of, if not the, most romantic spots to have dinner in Buenos Aires, and I can see why. So, it seemed, could most of the couples dining in various spots in the room. If it fails in that respect anywhere, it’s in the service, which, though relatively efficient and friendly, wasn’t quite as warm and welcoming as the ambiance of the place would suggest – there was a certain air of those of us dining having interrupted the staff from doing something far more important… mostly gathering in a corner chatting.

The food is good. It’s not wow, it’s good. For the most part it seems to have just been stuck on the plate, not carelessly, but with little thought to presentation. And, like the plates it comes on, it varies in presentation. And in style. There are elements of fusion cuisine(s), and there are things that are simply… run of the mill. Neither of us were overly hungry, so we thought we’d share the “duck terrine”, which was a terrine only in the sense that it had probably been molded in a loaf pan. It was more of a fluffy, light, whipped eggy sort of thing, vaguely infused with the flavor of duck, and, I think, hazelnuts, and served up with a bit of a green salad that was tasty, but more of an afterthought. Maybe it’s just that it wasn’t terrine-like, something a bit heartier, and disappointed slightly on that basis, because we certainly ate it all.

We moved on to main courses, a nice thick cut of lomo, or sirloin, almost more like a tall fillet mignon, served up with a bit of a stoneground mustard sauce, the same green salad, and a sort of timbale of mashed potatoes that had been then baked into form so it was a touch crusty. Again, we ate it all, but there was something not quite memorable about it. Our other main course, a crab ravioli, and a bit artsy, laid out in three long strips of pasta sandwiching a decent amount of crabmeat, perhaps a bit… doused… in a creamy saffron sauce and then drizzled with a sweet tamarind syrup. It needed, perhaps, a bit of spice, or something a touch sharp, to go up against the richness of crab, cream, and sugar, less sauce maybe. Yet, we finished it all.

So, I find myself thinking… I’d really love to just go back to that house, sit by the fire, have a glass or two of wine and maybe something to nibble on. Maybe take a table afterwards and have a little something to eat, maybe not. Kind of like visiting the home of good friends who like to play in the kitchen and manage to produce perfectly edible dishes that don’t always go together, and don’t leave me wanting the recipe, but I wouldn’t think about not hanging out with them, and not leaving anything behind on my plate.

“And that’s the world in a nutshell – an appropriate receptacle.”

– Stan Dunn

New York City – My initial impulse, looking back over a week’s worth of dining out, is to do a quick overview and point out some high and low points, and move on, returning to Buenos Aires, which is, as I’ve been informed via several e-mails over the last few days, what people come to SaltShaker looking for… my apologies, though not really – my blog is about food, wine, and life – mine, in general, and I’m not always in BsAs. But still, I’m looking at photos and notes from meals at Felidia, Cookshop, Momofuku, Sakagura, Ten, Porterhouse, Monkey Bar, Banjara, Grand Harmony, and Grill 21 – plus wandering the streets snapping photos, meeting up with friends, seeing a couple of movies… I know that as the next few days pass on my return home, the details are going to begin to fade, and there are going to be other things that clamor for attention. So, I’m going with my initial impulse… which means giving somewhat short shrift to places that probably warrant more… it just means I’m going to have to be pithy and concise… or something in that vein. I’m going to skip two from the list above – Cookshop I’ve reviewed before, and Grand Harmony is just one of those huge dim sum spots, nothing special, which we only went to because my fave spot is no more.

Now, a couple of thoughts about New York these days… you can’t go while you’re on a budget. You really can’t. Beyond getting to spend time with friends, and staying with a couple of them, and thereby saving on astronomical hotel bills, I budgeted pretty much all my money for dining out, and still aimed, for the most part, for less expensive spots. But I was bored most of the time, honestly. There wasn’t anything I wanted to see or do that didn’t cost way too much money, like theater or other events, where these days the cheap seats can often be three figures. It doesn’t mean one can’t figure out a way to do it – and I’m sure I missed out on some opportunities that I could have taken advantage of, but, I simply didn’t. Mea culpa. I already mentioned seeing Ratatouille… the other film I saw was the release of the new movie Transformation: The Life and Legacy of Werner Erhard – which was a fascinating look back at one of the most influential people in the late 70s “transformation movement” (yes, I took the est training, and a variety of other things, and even worked for the man at one point, briefly). I thought it was a very fair portrayal, covering both positives and negatives, and it’s well worth seeing if you don’t know much about that whole time period and movement.

 I like to morph reality into theatrics.”

– Robert Davi, Actor

Buenos Aires – The last few weeks have been filled with theater. Perhaps filled is a stretch, but far more than I normally set about to watch. I mentioned a few weeks back going to see Cabaret, and since then we’ve popped off to see Victor, Victoria – a horrendous production, filled with a cast who couldn’t sing, dance, or act, bad staging, and a band – I can’t call them an orchestra – that was a bit shy on musical talent, to be generous. From there, we headed on to La Jaula de las Locas, literally “the cage of the crazy women”, more commonly, perhaps, known as either La Cage aux Folles or The Birdcage – a completely non-musical staging of the play that was played so over the top that not one of the actors managed to keep a straight face for more than a minute or two straight, if I may use that term, in a production that was so gay that even the non-gay parts, like the conservative deputy and his wife, the son of the gay couple, and his mother – came across as equally gay as any of the transvestites – in fact, every cast member appearing at the end in drag. And, finally, some good theater – the new staging of Sweet Charity, which was brilliantly produced, directed, staged, acted, sung, danced, and any other term one might care to throw in – Bob Fosse would have had a hard time choreographing it better.

And, in that same sort of vein, we found ourselves one lunch at Teatriz, Riobamba 1220, in Recoleta. Now, it’s not that huge spectacle that, say, Teatriz in Madrid is – but that’s over the top Philipe Starck. But, it’s definitely a large spot, with a huge window looking out on the street – a lovely building across the way, wonderful Roman columns, all behind security grating now, and turned into a fertilitiy clinic – fascinating watching people literally seeming to sneak in and out of the place, furtively glancing around hoping that no one has seem them enter or leave. But back to the restaurant, and it’s mix of white tablecloth draped tables with black and white harlequin pattern clothed chairs – a bit much on the eye, but at least they didn’t go for a riot of color, like, say, Le Cirque in New York. The crowd, clearly upscale, and leaning towards the older set – at least on the one afternoon we were there. The upscale is no doubt maintained, given that the prices are as well – in fact, as it turns out, Teatriz offered up easily the most expensive lunch I’ve ever eaten in Buenos Aires, a three course meal, with average priced wine, running us 100 pesos apiece. Admittedly, we ordered two of the more expensive main courses that we could have, but even had we not it would have run us 90, and could have run us 110… the menu, I gather, is the same at lunch and dinner, with appetizers and desserts that range from mid-teens to mid twenties, and main courses from high twenties to mid-forties. [Closed during the pandemic, replaced in 2022 with Social Paraiso Bistro]

Now, of course, the question comes in… was it worth it? The answer, I’d have to say, is a qualified yes. The food is very good. It’s an elegant atmosphere, and probably more so at dinnertime. The service is quiet, efficient, and friendly. Can you get a better meal for less here? Absolutely. And by local standards it’s outrageously priced – but by international standards, and for those not traveling on a budget, let’s face it – a top quality three course meal with wine for US$30 is still a bargain.

Overall – quite satisfied palates and stomachs – not so satisfied wallets – but still, recommended for a special occasion, certainly.

“Passion is the element in which we live; without it, we hardly vegetate.”

– Lord Byron, Poet and Satirist

Buenos Aires – According to their name, and I know not from where it comes, they’re not just a restaurant, they’re Eliot Restó & Otras Pasiones, located at Honduras 5237 in Palermo, 4831-1112. There’s no indication of what the other passions might be, unless it’s the odd, randomly scattered art on the walls. The space is light and airy, with high ceilings and a big glass front window – seating is widely spaced, which gives the room a certain feel of being not particularly intimate. I kept waiting for an echo as we chatted. Sitting not far from us were a dozen folks from the Buenos Aires International Newcomers group, a few of whom we recognized and waved to from afar, a couple came over to chat. [This place has closed.]

Service is friendly and competent, something that thankfully is becoming more and more common in the city as restaurants (or at least their waiters) realize that actually providing good service results in happier customers, who come back time and again, and tip better… surprise that, no? Lunchtime is easy – it’s a fixed price menu, two or three courses, dessert being optional. We started off with a delightful squash soup (they’re popping up all over, a nice change of pace, and interesting the different interpretations), seasoned with cardamom, a delicious touch, and the soup nice and creamy, rich and satisfying. We also tried the mushroom bruschetta – not bad, but not overly interesting – the bread a bit too thin and quickly soggy, the mushrooms underseasoned, though a bit of salt fixed that.

We both were more impressed with the main courses we tried. Eliot offers up a selection of pastas, the most interesting of which, to me, was the ravioli filled with ricotta, spinach, and prosciutto. Top that with a nice range of sauces offered, including a freshly made carbonara – a sauce one doesn’t see much here, and which isn’t often well made anywhere. This one was a little on the soupy side, but flavor-wise was dead on. The risotto made with beet juice, grated beets, and a nice salty blue cheese was a winner – cooked al dente, brightly colored, flavorful. We were happy. We were also full, and opted out on desserts, and toddled off down the road for a coffee elsewhere.

Overall, for me, there’s something “off” about the room, maybe it’s just too non-intimate – not what I’d call cold, but the ambiance isn’t warm and welcoming – thankfully that’s made up for by the waitstaff. The food is good, mildly creative, and well cooked. It’s not wow, but then again, a two course lunch is only 18 pesos, which works for me. I await hearing from anyone who may happen to know a) who exactly is Eliot? and b) what are the “other passions” offered?

“It’s about human imagination and curiosity. What’s out there? What’s in the great beyond? What exists at levels we can’t see with our five senses?”

– James Cameron, Screenwriter, Director, Producer

Buenos Aires – I don’t know why it didn’t click in my mind when the waiter was trying to explain to us the origin of the name of the restaurant. I’ve been to the museum, I’ve seen the tapestries… but it’s been a long time, and it simply didn’t register – although I could swear that the waiter never said the words museo, tapiz, or unicornio. Cluny, El Salvador 4618, 4831-7176, in Palermo Viejo, is named after the Cluny Museum in Paris, and is a paean to the museum’s star exhibit, the famed Lady with Unicorn tapestries that celebrate six senses – taste, smell, touch, sight, hearing, and understanding. [Closed]

All in all, thumbs up all around for Cluny… next time, I’d probably just go back, have the salmon tartare, a couple baskets of the breads, a nice glass of wine, and call it a day.