PattyK

Excellent diner food!

I generally hate diners and refused to eat them until maybe three years ago. Generally eating in a diner is an act of discipline and sacrifice. Mansion is one of the few exceptions; not only do they execute diner staples well but the more substantial food is very good, too.

The service is pleasant. Notable items are the Moussaka and the sweet potato fries.

I wanted the LA celeb-restaurant experience and I got it.

The food itself was well-executed, with the classics (toro tartare, tempura, and sushi filling in the scenery around a flank steak dish made with a soy-mustard sauce that really accentuated the flavor of the meat.

The environment was definitely loud and vibrant, although I think it was an off-night given that we went on a Monday.

The service, however, was abysmal. The courses arrived too quickly and the servers rushed us through the meal.

Great energy; great environment; good food.

Had dinner with a couple of friends on a Saturday night. There was a private party that separated the environment and the bar scene was evolving when I got dragged out the door.

Everything was nicely done; the oysters were served with a soy-based mignonette derivate. The duck breast was excellent, properly cooked as medium rare and served with a blend of dates and figs in a rich balsamic reduction.

My friends seemed happy with their meals, as well, although I was unable to execute a private assault on their plates… next time I will.

Definitely one of my stalwarts.

I love that this place exists because it DELIVERS food that is one big, honking notch above the vaguely-edible diner/mass-produced food that otherwise permeate Union Square.

My favorite thing to order is the barbecue chicken sandwich with the herbed fries. The bread is a toasted sourdough that has that San Francisco funk to it; the barbecue sauce is a tad sweet but not excessive; and the mayo does a nice job of cutting the sweetness of the sauce. The herbed fries are crispy but not overcooked and that slight hint of vinegar to cut through the grease. They actually arrive crispy, too, a rarity for delivered fries.

I have never been one to actually sit in the restaurant and the bar scene hasn’t been my taste since I was, oh, 22. Maybe that’s why the last time I went there for any reason other than to pick up food was a date with a 22 year-old…

That said, the outside offers cadillac people watching opportunities on the weekends and it certainly helps that you hop over the fence, light up, and not miss a beat in your conversation.

Soto is a genius!!!

My partner-in-gluttony and I descended on Soto about a month after it had opened. We scoffed at the prospect of sititng at a table in lieu of an audience with the master. We handed back the menus and asked for the omakase.

12 courses later, Soto pronounced us full (well, after Ed got his Uni fix) and passed us a token dessert.

The courses themselves were truly ethereal, with all sorts of preparations of sushi and various derivatives. The cooked dishes was almost equal to the masterful sushi-type preparations.

It’s a shame that I can’t remember the precise dishes anymore; the entire night was one long, orgasmic surf through waves of caviar, broths, cuttlefish, fluke, and toro. What I can still remember is Soto’s masterful manipulation of uni into sauces, complements, and primary components of dishes.

N.B. Culinary orgasms do not come cheap although it wasn’t significantly more expensive than an Omakase at any other top-tier restaurant.

This restaurant is a true treasure of Madion Ave. I just ate there for the first time recently and am lost as to how I had never been there before.

The food and service were absolutely delightful. The gnocchi was feathery yet rich, with a hearty rib-sticking meat sauce. The sauce absolutely balanced the gnocchi, creating that special synergy that stems from pairing the right pasta with the right sauce.

The gelato was also tremendous… perhaps next time I’ll try another dessert.

This restaurant will be jumping into my rotation, especially if I move uptown.

In a word: YOURS.

My dining experience consisted of two hours and a whole bunch of calories I’ll never get back. I went there with one of my brokers (so I wasn’t paying) and I still feel as though I were robbed.

They overcooked my veal milanese, leaving it so dry even a bath of lemon and vinaigrette could resuscitate it. The pizettes were duly unimpressive… I can find better prosciutto at Garden of Eden, let alone a proper salumeria. The carpaccio was well-executed, though: well-balanced and properly flavorful.

The atmosphere itself reminds me of every party restaurant to which I had the misfortune of being dragged during the parts of my childhood when I lived in New Jersey.

Was it worth it? I don’t know… the stomach pain I’m feeling would indicate otherwise.

Best-in-class French Toast and the dinner is excellent to boot.

I generally find that I can be a fairly impartial critic of restaurants but such does not apply here. Over the year-and-change I have been coming to Little G I have developed a fondness for the owners and staff.

When I was dating someone who lived nearby we were fixtures at brunch and sometimes dinner. I threw a close friend’s birthday party here. I eat here at least once or twice a month for brunch and once for dinner. In short, this is my everyday nice restaurant.

The initial allure that brought me to the bowels of the Lower East Side was a cameraphone photo of the French Toast in all of its glory. On my first visit I became hooked on what I call the freebase of French Toast.

The substantial bread, the yummy toffee sauce, the carmelized bananas and the banana gelato blended together to create an orgasmic meld in which the interplay of the components shifts. First the gelato added flavor; then it cut the sweetness of the toffee sauce.

I have since brought many a friend for the French Toast. Everyone has become a Little G. convert; most are now addicts.

Dinner is also a treat, with my favorite preparations with more substantial, earthy creations like squash salads, shortribs and the swine o’ the week being their forte (and my preference). I have seen uniformly positive reactions from my friends, although I have always found the fondue quite puzzling.

Desserts are also spectacular… here’s a backdoor trick to get the French Toast goodness at night: order the sticky toffee and, for extra fidelity, ask if they can switch up the vanilla gelato for banana.

Despite the rave, this restaurant is not excessively expensive; a civilized dinner for two (with dessert, etc.) shouldn’t run more than $140 all-in (ex-alcohol). The one downside of this restaurant is that it is cramped and the Ikea-type furniture is not super-comfortable. I make the trade happily every time I go, even if getting in and out of the seats is a pain.

I had the pleasure of dining here with a close friend of mine a few months ago. The two of us have these private steakhouse nights every couple of months, and these nights are truly special. We eat dinner; we catch up on life; and the world stops around us for a couple of hours.

Over time the food has taken less of a role in our bonding nights; the restaurant has become less relevant than the time together. Such is the evolution of us as adults.

When we selected BLT Steak for our dinner, we walked in with no expectations. We had heard it maligned for a number of reasons, mostly by steakhouse “purists.”

I can understand their disappointment. Even a few years ago, this environment would not have been my style. Of course a few years ago, a trip to a steakhouse was less about conversation and more about a meat binge lubricated by 12 year-old scotch.

BLT Steak is a juxtaposition of condtradictory elements. On many levels, it is an evolved compromise that makes steak accessible without the perverse abundance of testosterone.

It is not a steakhouse per se; it is a restaurant with a steakhouse menu. It has the requisite cougar/older bar scene up front but the restaurant is much nicer. The crowd is substantially more female than most steakhouses I have seen, as well.

On the food:
First an foremost, the steak was phenomenal. We both had rib-eyes and the seasoning was dead-on. They also cooked the steaks to a perfect medium-rare for my friend, rare for me. The sauces, typically a no-no at a steakhouse, were downright slutty. Rather than drowning the flavor the steak, the bleu cheese and bearnaise sauce served as excellent complements, with the attendant saltiness accentuating the flavor of the steak.

The onion rings were light, airy, and intensely flavorful. The potato gratin was also an excellent alternative to the typically abusive carb course. The popovers were delicious and, since we weren’t in a full-on steakhouse, we felt no guilt about actually eating the bread.

The creamed spinach, crab cake, and caesar salad were all solid, perfectly good by any steakhouse’s standard.

The bacon was a disappointing rendition, but I think that my view of steakhouse bacon has been permanently biased by the swinish luxury that is the Luger’s edition. Truthfully, it was fine; the bacon just wasn’t my taste.

Desserts happened but were not memorable.

The tab was as expected, with dinner for two running north of $200 all-in, ex-alcohol. For the frequency with which I hit a steakhouse, the price is not outlandish.

Still great but not the same since it was redone.

This restaurant has been a part of my life longer than I have been alive. My mother ate the Cadillacs (bacon cheeseburgers) and chili when I was in the womb. I was brought there frequently throughout my childhood. My close friends and their families loved it, too. At one point I was eating there once a week I’d venture.

My favorites were the bearnaise burger and the home fries, the former of which was been irreparably diminished by the change in bearnaise sauce. The desserts have improved but the clientele is no longer the same.

I think I have come to realize that I need to accept it for what it was and appreciate the memories but not expect PJ’s to be what it was. It’s still a great place and I heartily recommend it.

When PJ Clarke’s closed for