I wasn’t planning on writing about Untitled.
After all, I inhaled that dinner at Whitney Museum’s new location downtown in an alcohol-fueled haze, to the point that I didn’t take pictures of the food. Not to mention that my dinner date has completely forgotten about having ingested any food that night.
The few things I remembered, however, were that the duck sausage was flavorful, the meat was succulent, and the grease was just the perfect companion to the copious amount of alcohol I consumed that day.
It woke me a little, just enough to remember the main courses for the both of us. I had the smoked spare ribs, where apricots provided another layer of sweetness, a freshness, while the pickled cabbage cut through that sweetness of the tender rib with a tartness.
The other main was the chicken done two ways: roasted and fried. In the dim lighting of the restaurant, I could barely make out which was which and ended up having a slightly over-seasoned but well fried piece of chicken that packed a lot of crunch.
In my sobriety, I read a number of reviews, hoping to round out my experience with things I didn’t pay attention to in my inebriated state, only to find some are less than flattering.
Adam Platt, at Grub Street, has a piece that highlighted the restaurant’s “simple seasonal cooking” in the title only to start the review bemoaning the lack of breathtaking views, art pieces and aesthetic refinement.
Bloomberg Business’ Tejal Rao heralded that “museum food has never been better in New York”, only to give the joint a one star rating.
Of course I’m no professional, or I’d be writing about food full-time. But I feel that critics are sometimes spoit for choice and with the attention they get from restaurateurs, more seems to be better.
When I was perusing the list of restaurants throughout the country that OpenTable hailed as the 100 Best Restaurants for Foodies in America, I can’t help but think that quite a few of them look so similar. The recurring themes of clean, modern chic; sophisticated hipster look; and rustic farmhouse charm remind me that it’s rare to have such a vast airy space that’s almost like an open canvas for patrons to fill, while shielding them from the city’s vibrancy (or craziness) just outside with the large windows.
At the end of the day, as a diner, all I ask for from a meal is a good starting point: The opportunity to share good food and a good time with loved ones, and a good environment so lively conversations (about art, perhaps!) can take place. The art pieces are in abundance upstairs in the museum.
If there is anything I want to complain about Untitled is the too impeccable service. At a wide open space like Untitled, the last thing you want is for servers to make a big fanfare about having dishes placed in front of each diner at the same time.
At the Modern’s dining room, maybe, or even at DowntonAbbey. But not Untitled.
P.S. Sincere apologies for the lack of pictures. To compensate, here’s one I took at Le Bain & Rooftop at the Standard before I sauntered over to Untitled. You know why I was so inebriated.
almost friday 