Imagine being Mario Batali, or rather King Midas. As either of these two portly fellows (OK I can't confirm Midas was portly), you come into a situation where everything you touch turns to gold, or in Batali's case tastes like gold. Babbo, Lupa, Casa Mono, The Spotted Pig, Esca and now Bistro du Vent, all seem to be benefiting from the Batali touch, great or small.
Why else would I resign myself to dining at 10 pm on a Friday night in the less than hip neighborhood bordering the Lincoln Tunnel. A street more famous in song than in dining, it is also now home to the latest Batali backed enterprise. Shuffling between the kitchen around the corner at Esca and now at du Vent, Chef Dave Pasternack tries his hand at French bistro food.
Hot off my European vacation of bistro binging, I was eager to see if du Vent would be lost in translation or would it send me running for my own copy of "French Women Don't Get Fat."
While the decor was not overly Parisian, each dish is introduced by its French name and followed with an English detailed description. Simple, but not spectacular, my salad of frisee, lardons and poached egg was reminiscent of bistro lunches, though the one at Landmarc still remains my favorite New York rendition, and a roasted beet salad was pleasant enough. For a glimpse of Mario, look no further than the lamb prosciutto, homemade (and delicious) by Armandino, Mario's dad.
If you still feel like you need more meat, then the Cote de Boeuf pour Deux is definitely the way to go. Though be warned that this giant cut of meat will take at least 30 to 40 minutes to reach a rare temperature, so don't order if you want to eat fast, or cheap for that matter. The meat was worth the price, cooked to perfection, topped with a sprinkle of blue cheese and wilted watercress, and accompanied by crispy frites.
For the non-red meat lover, the menu offers something for the fish lover, chicken lover and of course the vegetarian. It's not a fortune, $19 for a fish stew and $21 for a poulet roti, but expect to pay for the sides, though by now you should be used to the $6 tab for a fennel gratin or braised greens.
Too full to contemplate all the desserts we took a safe bet on the profiteroles. Arriving drizzled in chocolate, the ice cream was icy and the pastry stale. Had they been assembled in the morning and then placed in the freezer all day? We posed this question to out gracious waiter, who had displayed the eagerness typical of just opened eateries all evening. Not only did he remove the aforementioned dessert, but also tried to make us feel better and by informing us that the large group in the center of the restaurant had also been disappointed by the profiteroles.
Well, at least the entire E Street Band, sans Bruce, agreed with our assessment. Yes, the celebs have descended, the phones are ringing off the hook and reservations are few and far between. Batali strikes again, and while he may not have gold yet, Bistro du Vent hits a balance that falls somewhere between the Lincoln Tunnel and the Left Bank.
411 West 42nd Street
(212) 239 3060
"hot of Paris" change to "off"
last sentence has "have have"
a few extra commas, nice review, enjoyed reading
Posted by: ronne | January 17, 2005 at 04:25 PM
We were there on Saturday - ours was a bit less that what you appear to have experienced - and I think David is at times a magician - http://www.red-is-life.com/2005/01/cant_help_being.html
Posted by: HB Herr | January 18, 2005 at 04:58 PM