Text 6209, 95 rader
Skriven 2013-10-28 13:26:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: not a burger 381
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The Little Owl is but a couple hundred feet from Lederhosen,
so we didn't take off from there until 5; not surprisingly,
there were only two other tables filled when we got there at
5 after. There was a gradual influx, which made us feel
increasingly guilty about nursing our wine, though, and by 6,
not an empty seat in the house; when we left shortly before 7,
there was a lull, but I'm betting the true New Yorkers filled
the place again later on.

It's a funky square room seating maybe 50; semi-open kitchen.
The heat was on, and we were seated right by a radiator, which
I guess was a good idea, as we were next to the front door. I
gave Lilli the chance to reject the table, but she didn't.

Generally good though unspeedy service. Well, the Hispanic busboy
worked his tail off keeping water glasses and bread (by the way,
excellent, in the crusty rustic way) baskets filled; the white
girl hostess and the white girl waitresses took their sweet time
about things; though they were not neglectful, their languidness
coupled with a lack of repose and relaxation just seemed a little
weird.

I ordered a glass of the Chinon Pensees de Pallus 10, a rather
tannic Cab Franc from the Loire; its acid and slight grassiness
made it go great with food; also a glass of  St. Jean de la Porte
Savoie (Vuillen) Mondeuse 11, a bit lighter and sweeter but also
cheaper. I let Lilli have her pick; I was proud of her when she
picked the Chinon.

The burger is unavailable at dinner.

Lilli wanted to split the famous meatball sliders appetizer,
which has been featured in some article or tv show or something,
but I refused that, saying that she'd have to eat them all
(they were listed as having pecorino in them). Instead, I
ordered the special appetizer, gnocchi with oxtail, which Lilli
protested, as she hates gnocchi. I said okay, eat your meatball
sliders with pecorino, but she was won over by compromise, the
understanding being that I'd eat the gnocchi and she'd get most
of the beef.

I overheard one of the other waitresses tell another table that
the gnocchi were topped with pecorino, but that wasn't until
after our order had gone in. What came - two elegant little
bowlfuls, one mostly beef, the other mostly gnocchi. We were
served in the stereotypical direction, so we had to switch
plates. The gnocchi were green, another detail omitted by our
waitress; they tasted quite distinctly of spinach and had quite
a nice though softish texture. And the pecorino turned out to
be Parmesan, which prevented me from having a meltdown.

Lilli discovered that she didn't hate gnocchi after all.

While nursing our first glasses of wine, she had been poking
around the Yelp reviews and found one that claimed that the
steak was all fat; this almost but did not quite sway me into
ordering it. Instead, I got the fish of the day, branzino (a
Mediterranean sea bass) with lobster risotto. Another omission
by the waitress: the risotto came with some kind of grana,
which I didn't bother to taste. Lilli got all indignant with
the hostess, who offered to have the kitchen make another serving,
but I said don't bother. I picked out the bits of lobster, which
were fine though scanty and tasted the underlying risotto, which
wasn't bad though somewhat cheesy. Cheesy seafood risotto is a
serious error. The branzino itself was utterly delicious; it had
been stuffed with garlic, lemon, thyme, and maybe oregano, then
grilled just so with a sprinkling of salt. It was also over a
pound, so I didn't miss the starch at all.

With my fish I had a glass of the Coffele Soave 11, a very
savory and attractive wine; Lilli persisted with her Chinon,
which she liked very much.

She got the famous grilled pork chop, which the waitress said came
medium-rare to medium. I suggested she order rare, but she said
as it comes would be fine; but when it came, it was way overcooked,
white all the way through. Still it remained somewhat juicy despite
not having been brined. She ate only half the chop (which was quite
large) and left the rest for me: I nibbled the fatty bits off the
bone and left about 4 oz of overcooked meat. The seasoning scheme
here was Mediterranean as well, with oregano, lemon, and fennel
dominant. Not bad, but the execution could have been so much better.

We passed on dessert, but I had a glass of Lustau East India Solera
sherry, which used to be a luscious overripe wine offered only in
limited quantities and in certain years; now it's just a slightly
fatter than usual brown sherry, pretty nice but not all that special.

The meal, though on the whole pretty good, cost a lot for what it was.
I figure it was worth 40 a head, maybe 60 at New York prices. It was
way more.

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