Confessions of a Wino

Listening to old Genesis albums on Spotify is a good way of reminding oneself that simple things, done well, rarely disappoint. There wasn’t an enormous amount of complexity in Genesis’ soft 1970’s rock, but every musician (yes, even Phil Collins, doyen of French Europop radio) was packed with talent and, if the quality of the anthemic melodies are anything to go by, spent many hours learning their craft. And yet, whilst Trick of the Tail, for example, sounds like it is mixed on old chipped plates and rusty frying pans, and the electronic keyboards were played inside an old Heinz Beans can, it has stood the test of time simply because the ingredients are first class, and orchestrated with skill and care. You sometimes feel concern for the band’s collective mental health, but only in an English eccentric perfectionist sort of way.

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A sunny Sunday in New York means one thing, a walk along the Highline. Well, maybe two: brunch at Standard Grill. But what about Sunday lunch/dinner? Where would you suggest? What is the third “must do” thing on an epicurian’s or wino’s agenda? One recommendation landed in my Twitter timeline, the sister of Gramercy Tavern. Can you guess what happened next?

A few tweets later and I’m booked in for a lazy and late lunch. To be served super food by extremely friendly staff.

One great example of the food, Blood Clams, were raw with a Bloody Mary poured in. A rare example of when shellfish goes with red wine. My choice of Long Meadow Ranch was apparently so insightful, it warranted a special inquiry (note the American spelling there) from the Sommelier. “Oh, I figured you must be a wino to order that”.

In fact, Californian wines are only just making it onto my bucket list. Frog’s Leap and Ridge being two examples. LMR is not far behind.

The interior design is funky and cool, the staff are brill, the food is inventive, fun and tasty, and you can get drunk on interesting, or expensive vino. What’s not to like?

Union Square Café
21 E 16th St
(between W Union Sq & 5th Ave)
New York, NY 10003
T: +1 (212) 243-4020
W: www.unionsquarecafe.com

As any good chef will tell you, good cooking starts with good sourcing. Assuming that you are an adult, the single most important ingredient you need for this dish is Branston Baked Beans.

The other essential component is a bottle of Tuella, Douro, 2006 vintage if you can get it, which should be opened and placed in the fridge. Then put a pan on the hob.

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When you’ve been serving steaks since 1887, you’ve probably learned a thing or two. The legend of Peter Luger in Brooklyn hangs over most steakhouses in the world like a godlike presence. Observe, salivate, copy, hope.

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When in New York, I can’t afford to stay in the Standard Hotel, so I pretend I’m a guest by eating in the Grill, and there are few better meals there than brunch on a chilled sunny Sunday morning. Another favourite spot of mine in New York is the Highline Park, which not coincidentally, skewers the hotel like a concrete, meadow grass and shrub kebab.

Converted from a disused raised platform freight railway, it is one of the golden nuggets of Manhattan. A stroll on a crisp February morning in Feb 2012, is all the more impressive for having seen it as recently as last May. Here are two photos from a similar position on equally stunning days, for different reasons. The Standard Hotel stands majestically in the background.

If you visit the Highline, do drop down to street level at 13th Street and Washington and even if you don’t like the food at The Standard Grill, you can pocket one of their cute condiment sets. Assuming you are honest, you can get them legally for just $25.

The Standard Grill
848 Washington St at 13th St,
Meatpacking District
10014
New York
T: +1 212 645 4100
W: thestandardgrill.com

The Highline runs from West Village, Gansvoort Street through the Meatpacking district and Chelsea up to 30th Street and is still being extended, hopefully up to 34th Street, which will make it SOME WALK…Beautiful stuff, stunning redevelopment, worth funding.
W: www.thehighline.org

They say you should never judge a book by its cover and I guess that goes for the title too. With the external look of a mid range café, and named after the second smallest room in a house (1930’s house at any rate), Kitchen W8 does not elicit Great Expectations.

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It’s easy to be suspicious of restaurants that inhabit buildings with a past, especially those that use it as a theme. Former banks, embassies and even car showrooms have proudly displayed elements of their previous lives in the rush to find kitsch spaces for the entertainment industry of the zeitgeist.

Under 40s will find it hard to believe, but dining out has not always been so in vogue. My childhood caught the end of the movie-going era. Any self respecting date was played out in the back row while some Woody Allen film droned on in the background. Nowadays, sharing a rib of beef and some polite chatter has replaced a silent and clumsy fumble in the dark. How times have changed.

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A bull at the door is a welcome nod to Wall Street riches, and I only wish my shares were stampeding a little harder right now.  But as a promise of what was to come, the comedy doggie doo left under the hindquarters of the statue was a more accurate entrée to the Bloomsbury branch of Black & Blue.

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If there’s one thing better than a pint of Black Sheep, it’s a pint of Black Sheep served in a cosy warm Yorkshire pub, after a long Sunday morning walk on the moors.

The Star at Harome is just such a warming and friendly establishment but with the added bonus of being a restaurant that serves game, fish and fine wines. Oh and it has won just about every “best gastro pub” award going including, at one point, a Michelin star. It’s grouse season and I might just be in heaven. I am going to pay a celestial price too, £111 (a Nelson) plus service is more than a trifle in this part of the world.

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Anthony Flinn Jnr is blazing a one man trail in this part of the world. Not necessarily with his cooking, although we’ll come to that. No. Mostly in being the powerhouse behind saving the most beautiful building in this metropolis, Leeds Corn Exchange.

Not content with opening a bistro, a champagne bar, a fromagerie, and a café/patisserie, Flinn has now thrust American cuisine into this arty setting, otherwise populated by eclectic and bohemian shops of the sort your lost cousin from Hebden Bridge would sacrifice a goat to be seen in.

With the help of the Flinns (other family members are part of the team including his dad, Anthony Snr, who does “the finance”) and the retail footfall they have encouraged, even generated, this building is back to its beautiful, stunning, decadent self.

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