Terroir And The East Village Wine Bar Boom

[Pigging by Wilfrid: March 31, 2008] That's some nice acorn-fed pig right there. We'll be coming back to that.

First, however, let me direct your attention once again to the set text for this season: In Vino Denaro, or loosely "in wine bars, spondulicks."

The first place to look for restaurant and bar coverage in the Observer, a canny newspaper at its best, is in the real estate section.  There's a dose of reality for you.  Many New York food writers (including Frank Bruni), in attributing the boom in casual, walk-in, counter-top, tapas style dining to "the way we live now" - or other such nebulous concepts - overlook an important truth.

As Karl Marx used to say, "It's the economy, stupid."  Or as Marco Canora told the Observer, referring to his successful First Avenue restaurant, Hearth: "If everything happened five years later, we would be looking at somewhere in the boroughs, because you can’t make a business plan work with the rents in Manhattan now." 

Certain kinds of plans, anyway.  As Grieco adds, "That’s why you see all the wine bars opening up these days, because you can get a much smaller space, minimal labor costs, do small plates."  And so we have Terroir, the team's third Manhattan venture (following Hearth and Insieme) - an unspeakably tiny store-front wine-bar on East 12th Street, which I suspect is connected to Hearth by a back passage or possibly tunnel.

Since it's opening a few weeks ago, I have walked past with dining in mind maybe half a dozen times.  Not a chance: slammed from day one.  Peering through the misty window, one could see Marco in the back corner which might be called "the kitchen" slicing and plating.  The short bar to the left and the bar-height counter to the right were piled with bodies, and a polite scrimmage filled the doorway.

I bowed to the inevitable and made plans to sneak in at opening time - 5pm.  The place was almost within the hour.   

There are a few substantial dishes on the menu - the veal and ricotta meatballs many will remember from the days Canora oversaw Craftbar - braised rabbit, cotechino with lentils.  Specials too, such as a "flap steak", which I think I know better as bavette. 

The early hour, however, called for "small plate" grazing.  And on a small board, at least, I sampled the house-made country pork terrine (terrine's are so this week, by the way) and a seriously rich and velvety Petit Jesu salami.

A bowl of calamari salad with a lemon and parsley dressing was made hearty with chickpeas.  The squid strips were ideally delicate, and the overall dish reminded me of the kind of antipasto which Otto does so well.  Lamb sausages were a hit too: sizzling patties first encased in fresh sage leaves, then crumbed and crisp fried.

Food prices are kind - little snacks like the sausages, and portions of charcuterie currently running at $3 a piece.  The wine is a different matter - a truly fine list, but if you are drinking by the glass cost rises sharply.  There are around thirty options by the glass, including dessert wines.  A delicious Scheurebe could have been drunk as an aperitif or with pudding.  Among the bottles, note the 1990 Chinon by Olga Raffault - recommended.

The list is kept in ring-binders, and changes before your eyes as pages are removed and replaced.  I worked happily through a Jean-Marc Morey Santenay and a Crozes-Hermitage.  But don't be fooled by the prices at the right of the list: $5, $8.75 - those are 3oz. tasting prices.  Full pours of all but a couple of wines are in double figures.

Another comment from Canora in the Observer interview:  "(P)eople are looking for value. They’re not looking to drop $100 a head. They’d much rather go to a wine bar and spend, you know, five bucks on this, eight bucks on that, and $9 on a glass of wine and call it dinner.

Well, you can't easily do that at Terroir.  A couple of glasses of wine, a couple of snacks took me to $50 a head, and I hadn't even thought of an entrée.  Marco should worry: he's playing to packed houses, and the quality of the place - food, wine and service - is predictably high.

Head west and just the other side of First Avenue, a quite different experience awaits. Right next door to Una Pizza Napoletana, and almost obscured by the line of pie fanatics, a dark little doorway admits you to Pata Negra: Spanish ambience, small room, tiny bar with a couple of seats, a few bar-height tables.

There's a short list of interesting sandwiches you can order open (patitas) or closed - tempted by the butifarra con Mahon - next time - I tried the classico, Serrano ham with melting Manchego.  But the reason to come here is in the name.

The pata negra itself, the jamon de Iberica de bellota from the acorn-fed Black Iberian pig.  Get very excited (if you aren't already), because you'll be seeing this  on many upscale menus soon (Le Cirque already has it).  It's available in the United States for the first time this year, having finally been approved by the USDA (which would rather we eat Hamburger Helper or hot dogs than the best cheeses and cured meats of Europe).

A big black leg will cost you well over a thousand dollars retail, so $35 a serving here didn't seem unduly cruel.  It's rich, so two could comfortably share the portion, and it comes most appropriately with pa amb tomaquet.

Now service here is friendly but idiosyncratic.  The proprietor is most defensive of his acorn-fed pork, and if you introduce yourself as a bellota virgin, he'll implore you  try the jamon Serrano or regular jamon Iberico first.  And he's right - it's best to climb the ladder.  I was able to persuade him that I'd already done so several times in Spain. 

This is nice stuff, fat melting on the tongue, and a fruity depth which almost reminds me of a good blue cheese.  Something to eat with a thirty year old Rioja.  Indeed, the website shows some fine Rioja on the reserve list - but I didn't get the reserve list when I visited.  Caution: beware some of the house wine here.  It's hot country wine, Garnacha, strong in alcohol, fruity (yes, cheap).  Sadly, I am learning only as I type that '96 Bosconia and Viña Real could be had for seventy bucks. Don't say I never help you.

Cheese follows ham, and I tried a Catalunyan variety I didn't recall, although I've surely eaten it at some point. Nevat, chalk-jacketed, firm, refreshing. Heading down First Avenue, you can follow Italian and Spanish with French at the contrastingly large and moderately swanky Solex.

Mea culpa.  This place has been around since some time last year, and I never noticed it.  Not even on the radar.  A long, long bar and ample other seating, again at bar-height counters.  Think Bar Veloce about six times the size.

Servers, in smart suits and ties, are French, as is the wine list (okay, a couple of Austrians too).  And the latter is both long and interesting - one doesn't see the Arbois wines of Frédéric Lornet on a list every day.  A cremant from Jura too; Tavel by the glass; Damoze Armagnac.

Eating is all about "small plates" and cheese or cold cuts to share - although, among the desserts, an adjacent diner was swooning over the warm madeleines.  Savory éclairs are surely an idea which has been waiting to happen.  These were named after beef "Wellington", stuffed with braised short rib, foie gras (discernible) and a mushroom duxelles, and polished with a beef glaze.  A touch more seasoning, please.

Alongside, the selection of tartines:  terrine, foie, tomato and onion, smoked salmon - the latter the most enjoyable.  $12, or three apiece.  I was tempted by escargots, and a raclette appetizer, each at $8.  But drink your way into the wines by the glass (almost thirty again) and watch that check go up.

And remember.  You are not buying the chef a yacht, you are paying Manhattan rent.

A disturbingly flashing web-site for Terroir can be found here.

Pata Negra boasts its wares here.

Solex is at home over here.