Meat Plates!: Kafana and Benoit

[Pigging by Wilfrid: June 2, 2008]

If there's one thing burning the town up almost as much as "Tiki" drinks and Sex in the City, it's a redoubled love of salume, charcuterie, cold-cuts: meat plates!  I've been low-end and high-end recently.

The soundtrack for this subject?  "Meat Shirt", of course; the touching song of butchery and tailoring by The Randy Brothers.

Scroll down for another encounter with Benoit.

Low-end, I think, is a fair enough description of a extra-casual Serbian eatery - rough and sloping wooden tables, exposed brick-work, archive photos - which has its foot on the gas on Avenue C with a drinks license still pending - cash only.  Staff are Serbian, their friends bounce in and out - ostensibly to drink tap water (hmmm), and big, shareable plates of food fly out of the kitchen at bewildering speed, prices generally around $7.95 to $10.95

The frenetic pace might slow when customers can linger over a bottle.  Right now, the baleful glare of the nearby precinct-house means no BYOB even.  Well, that's the law for all but really small premises.  Of course, it's blithely ignored throughout most of the city, but applied to the hilt on the Lower East Side, thanks to the miserably anti-nightlife activists and their unelected Community Board enablers.

But turning to more cheerful matters.

That's the meat "meze", suitable for two, three, or perhaps four people to share.  Now, my impression is that this is the real deal: Serbian food of some authenticity.  For example, head over to the estimable Radegast Hall in Brooklyn, and the cheerful Serbian staff will serve you familiar German-Austrian/Mitteleuropean cooking.  Here at Kafana, there's little I recognize.  But then, I've never been to Serbia.

In any case, strongly flavored smoked meats to the right, pork loin and beef - pungent, almost rubbery.  I believe the beef to the left, happily streaked with fat, is air-dried.  And some curiously shaped, paprika-colored Serbian salami at the top.  No doubt about the crowning touch, though: big, juicy nuggets of pork rind.  Not quite hard-crunchy, but not floppy either: nicely judged.

Kafana is pretty much across the street from busy Zum Schneider.  The premises housed a very short-lived sushi bar, and have since been boarded up (I think a catering business was operating behind closed doors).

It's early days for a review of the joint.  Service will settle, booze will flow (next week hopefully), and we can all relax.  I did take a look, though, at the lamb stewed with spinach and a few grilled sausages. The lamb was tender, a nice fatty cut, and served with a dollop of yoghurt. I was searching for some seasoning or lift to the spinach. Plain hearty food, low prices; it might be a good fit for this party block.

Benoit Again

I did enjoy my first dinner at Ducasse's midtown expression of the Benoit concept.  I mentioned some shaky service below the top level, and subsequent reports from credible people have detected inconsistency in the kitchen too.  I went back for lunch recently, not just out of curiosity, but because I simply hadn't been able to fit the pâté en croûte in my stomach first time around, and it did look good. 

The lunch menu, which is every bit as large and inconvenient as the dinner menu, proposes a selection of charcuterie for two, rather than items à la carte.  A pity, because one would like to drop in for a light bite occasionally.

Nothing light about this lot, though; in fact it's an unbeatably generous serving for $18.  The veal tongue seamed with creamy foie is present, as are two big medallions of the foie itself: fatty, as you can see, but in a way I happen to like.  I don't know if they are preparing the foie on the premises, but it shows up some more anaemic versions around town.  The pâté en croûte was somewhat buried by the other meats, but it's a firm, garlicky pork paté, without the elaboration of the layered pie at Bar Boulud, but pretty good.

The darker uncooked ham was tasty, but the cooked ham bland; and the saucisse seche was not immediately distinguishable from any decent salami.  The usual condiments were proferred - mustard and cornichons - but not without awkwardness.  Just as the menus don't fit the table, and the bread bag collapses, the condiments are served in massive pots with loose lids - almost impossible for a server with a normal hand-span to lift and pass.  Also, the first pot came with pickled onions, but no cornichons - quickly replaced - and for no clear reason we were given Tabasco and Lea & Perrin's Worcester sauce too.

I was happy enough with one entrée, the steak tartare, sharp with capers.  Not spicy, but then I don't much like it spicy.

The other entrée was something of a catastrophe.  The quenelles de brochet - somewhat coarser than I'd have expected, but palatable enough - placed in a baking dish and nuked (under a salamander?) beyond submission.  The sauce had surrendered.  It must be a hectic kitchen if this goes unnoticed.

The wines by the glass are very disappointing so far.   Still rooting for the place to get its act together, because it is halfway toward being very good, and very good value.  It seems somehow...unmanaged.