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Where to Eat in December
Illustration: Naomi Otsu
Welcome to Grub Street’s rundown of restaurant recommendations that aims to answer the endlessly recurring question: Where should we go? These are the spots that our food team thinks everyone should visit, for any reason (a new chef, the arrival of an exciting dish, or maybe there’s an opening that’s flown too far under the radar). This month: amberjack belly in the East Village, sweetbread nuggets à la Boulud, and a department-store café that feels like something out of a children’s book (yes, it’s Louis Vuitton).
Leon’s (Union Square)
A corner space like Leon’s — expansive, across from the Strand — has a sense of spectacle to it, even with half-curtains obscuring so much of the Broadway buzz. “Is this your first time?” our jocular server asked a few nights after opening as we took in the clamshell sconces and algae-like swipes of green paint on the wall. Yes. “That would make sense,” she replied. “It’s only my third day.” Yet the place already displays polish: The second restaurant from Anton’s owners Nick Anderer and Natalie Johnson, the food here is Italian but also Egyptian (in honor of Johnson’s grandfather) and a little French. The “chips and onions Soriano” are none of these things — inspired instead, Johnson explains, by the Spanish fries of 1980s New York — but they’re a must. Topped with onions and seasoned, crucially, with smoked paprika and citrus powder, they are savory and irresistible. Order the shrimp and potato salad, too, but skip the crab tuffoli with coriander in favor of the ravioli alla caprese, which are plump, rich, and a nice foil to the lamb misto, skinny skewers, fatty belly, and well-seasoned kofta. (During lunch, those same kofta are served with Johnson’s family rice, pilaf al Hakim.) For dessert: How about a cookie plate (it’s December, after all), which includes a fantastically chewy tahina, or some crème caramel? —Chris Crowley
Le Café at Louis Vuitton (Midtown)
Step aside, Polo Bar, there’s a new fashtaurant in town. Le Café du Louis Vuitton, as it’s known, is the Maison’s first eating establishment in the United States. My midwestern mom joined me on a recent visit, and she aptly called it “very Kardashian.” The dining room communicates luxury as visibly as possible, and even the POS devices for servers are hidden inside the brand’s classic trunks. The logos extend to the French-leaning menu by chef Christophe Bellanca — a caviar-embossed scallop soufflé, an emblem-shaped potato waffle — and the desserts from pastry chef Mary George are as covered in LV iconography as the handbags for sale elsewhere in the building. No disrespect to the monogramming, but my favorite dishes featured less branding: rich and layered truffle eggs à la Coque (served with an embossed brioche breadstick for dipping), and the “Vélours Noir,” a cocoa-dusted negroni perfect for this time of year. Alas, the ice is stamped with an LV logo, too, but it was easy to overlook as it melted. —Zach Schiffman
Smithereens (East Village)
It’s not exactly coastal, but the cuisine of New England has washed up on East 9th Street. Smithereens, from Nick Tamburo, a former Claud chef, occupies a low-ceilinged, galley-shaped warren with seawater-colored walls; the lobster rolls come stuck with paper replicas of the Massachusetts state flag. Smithereens is only the latest comer in a year of upscale fish shacks, but there’s plenty to recommend it. Classics are dutifully riffed on — clam chowder reimagined as hake in a potato-and-herb broth with clams — but my tip is to treat the restaurant instead like an Eastern Seaboard sushi joint. Amberjack belly seared over binchotan with sea-lettuce vinaigrette was meaty and crisp-skinned, and we lived to regret not ordering scallops with thinly shaved matsutake mushrooms and lime zest or sliced tuna rolled around pear and cherry blossom. Do save room for dessert, whether that’s a tangy cider doughnut served hot or the odd but enticing float of celery-root ice cream with celery soda and maraschino cherries. And for a drink, instead of the traditional Narragansett, the wine list (by Nikita Malhotra, previously of Momofuku Ko) all but insists on a German white, the kind of monomania that demands and deserves to be celebrated. —Matthew Schneier
La Tête d’Or (Flatiron)
By this point in his decades-spanning, done-it-all career, Daniel Boulud could, and possibly even should logically have “DB Steak” outposts inside casinos and luxury-hotel lobbies across the globe. In reality, this Golden Head is, the chef’s various reps have relayed repeatedly, his “first steakhouse.” He seems to have no interest in disrupting genre conventions — the Caesars are tossed tableside, Texas beef careens around the room in a prime-rib trolley, everything is expensive — while offering the kind of mannered, Franco tweaks one expects from a Boulud establishment: clover-size broccoli florets garnishing “sweetbread nuggets,” a crab cake crowned with a savory tuille, a list of classical add-on sauces that Escoffier would recognize. (Also expected: a full dining room on opening night, with seats occupied by what looked like the uptown doctors and lawyers and finance barons who are the habitués of his other Manhattan dining rooms.) It’s big and festive and polished in a Vegas-y sort of way, which seems to be the goal, and which feels tonally appropriate for the sprint into the holiday season. —Alan Sytsma
Kinjo (Dumbo)
Visit one sub-$100 omakase spot and it can feel like you’ve been to them all, but the $95 service at this counter on the Dumbo waterfront is an exception to the standard of bare-bones spaces squeezed into narrow storefronts. The ambience at the 13-seat lacquered wood bar is decidedly serene, with textured wallpaper all the way up to the former factory’s ceiling. The 11-course menu feels special too, like a scallop crudo starter with honeydew and a spicy sprig of watercress; and a curry-glazed, lightly flamed shrimp nigiri with shredded fried leeks. After six pieces of sushi, the sequence finishes with a five-day koji-cured duck breast, sliced and served on a soft crêpe with a shiso leaf and pineapple hoisin, all meant to be rolled together like a taco, followed by sablefish chazuke where the fish melts in a fine-tuned dashi. If the meal is a little light, there is an opportunity to order à la carte at the end, or you can finish the night with cocktails and snacks at the restaurant’s loungy bar. —Tammie Teclemariam
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