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The Odeon’s Not-So-Bright Lights Still Beckon The Odeon’s Not-So-Bright Lights Still Beckon
(about 20 hours later)
Why do I keep going back to the Odeon?Why do I keep going back to the Odeon?
It’s not because people on Condé Nast expense accounts have returned to this TriBeCa landmark with the bones of a brasserie, even though it’s nice to know that some editors still have time for lunch.It’s not because people on Condé Nast expense accounts have returned to this TriBeCa landmark with the bones of a brasserie, even though it’s nice to know that some editors still have time for lunch.
Nor is it because Lena Dunham had the neon sign on West Broadway replicated in blazing-orange ink on her body this year, either, although I appreciate how neatly the sign’s progress from the front cover of “Bright Lights, Big City” in 1984 to Ms. Dunham’s backside encapsulates the recent cultural history of New York.Nor is it because Lena Dunham had the neon sign on West Broadway replicated in blazing-orange ink on her body this year, either, although I appreciate how neatly the sign’s progress from the front cover of “Bright Lights, Big City” in 1984 to Ms. Dunham’s backside encapsulates the recent cultural history of New York.
Nostalgia is not the lure for me. The Odeon was opened in 1980 by Lynn Wagenknecht; Keith McNally, her husband at the time; and his brother, Brian. I had not moved to New York yet when the surfaces of its downstairs bathrooms provided cocaine runways for some “Saturday Night Live” cast members and a troop of art-market players and fixers. And besides, knowing that by the end of the decade drug abuse would kill at least two famous regulars, John Belushi and Jean-Michel Basquiat, makes it hard to see much glamour in that white-powdered scene. Nostalgia is not the lure for me. The Odeon was opened in 1980 by Lynn Wagenknecht; Keith McNally, whom she would later marry; and his brother, Brian. I had not moved to New York yet when the surfaces of its downstairs bathrooms provided cocaine runways for some “Saturday Night Live” cast members and a troop of art-market players and fixers. And besides, knowing that by the end of the decade drug abuse would kill at least two famous regulars, John Belushi and Jean-Michel Basquiat, makes it hard to see much glamour in that white-powdered scene.
I don’t go to the Odeon for the last word in culinary fashions, which were part of the package under the first chef, Patrick Clark. Mr. Clark had cooked under Michel Guérard, one of the founders of nouvelle cuisine, and he was one of the earliest American chefs to apply its principles to homegrown ingredients.I don’t go to the Odeon for the last word in culinary fashions, which were part of the package under the first chef, Patrick Clark. Mr. Clark had cooked under Michel Guérard, one of the founders of nouvelle cuisine, and he was one of the earliest American chefs to apply its principles to homegrown ingredients.
Moira Hodgson, who during her brief stint as restaurant critic for The Times in 1980 may have been one of the only people who went to the Odeon to eat, was impressed enough by dishes like “médaillons of tender veal on a green pool of puréed watercress artfully decorated by leeks, string beans, carrots and celery” that she gave the restaurant two stars. (It got the same rating in its last full review, by Bryan Miller in 1989.)Moira Hodgson, who during her brief stint as restaurant critic for The Times in 1980 may have been one of the only people who went to the Odeon to eat, was impressed enough by dishes like “médaillons of tender veal on a green pool of puréed watercress artfully decorated by leeks, string beans, carrots and celery” that she gave the restaurant two stars. (It got the same rating in its last full review, by Bryan Miller in 1989.)
The kitchen at the Odeon, in the hands of Vincent Nargi for more than a decade, retrenched long ago to a comfortably broken-in lineup of French and American standards. So when I go, I often start with oysters on ice or with frisée and lardons in warmed vinaigrette, even if I wonder why the poached egg that completes the salad is optional. In cold weather, I ask for a scalding crock of French onion soup, lifting my spoon higher and higher in the steam until the thread of melted Gruyère finally snaps.The kitchen at the Odeon, in the hands of Vincent Nargi for more than a decade, retrenched long ago to a comfortably broken-in lineup of French and American standards. So when I go, I often start with oysters on ice or with frisée and lardons in warmed vinaigrette, even if I wonder why the poached egg that completes the salad is optional. In cold weather, I ask for a scalding crock of French onion soup, lifting my spoon higher and higher in the steam until the thread of melted Gruyère finally snaps.
Anything out of the ordinary I approach with caution. “Spicy chicken dumplings” turn out to be Buffalo chicken wontons with a blue cheese dipping sauce. This is every bit as wrong as it sounds. I ate one with the grim consolation of knowing I’d gotten exactly what I deserved.Anything out of the ordinary I approach with caution. “Spicy chicken dumplings” turn out to be Buffalo chicken wontons with a blue cheese dipping sauce. This is every bit as wrong as it sounds. I ate one with the grim consolation of knowing I’d gotten exactly what I deserved.
The pressed octopus appetizer sounds risky, too, but it is good, tender and lightly charred with some chickpeas and preserved lemon and a smooth sauce of leeks.The pressed octopus appetizer sounds risky, too, but it is good, tender and lightly charred with some chickpeas and preserved lemon and a smooth sauce of leeks.
It’s hard to look at the Odeon’s slowly revolving ceiling fans, hanging globe lamps, white tablecloths and burgundy banquettes without the words “steak frites” popping into your head. This is an understandable reaction, and a smart one. The steak, a New York strip, is of high quality, and the fries are exactly what you’re picturing, skinny and golden and salty in their paper-lined metal cups.It’s hard to look at the Odeon’s slowly revolving ceiling fans, hanging globe lamps, white tablecloths and burgundy banquettes without the words “steak frites” popping into your head. This is an understandable reaction, and a smart one. The steak, a New York strip, is of high quality, and the fries are exactly what you’re picturing, skinny and golden and salty in their paper-lined metal cups.
If the words you hear instead are “moules frites,” you’re still in good shape; the mussels will be fat and fresh, and their saffron-cream sauce will be rich and flavorful, even if the taste of saffron is more of an allusion than an outright statement.If the words you hear instead are “moules frites,” you’re still in good shape; the mussels will be fat and fresh, and their saffron-cream sauce will be rich and flavorful, even if the taste of saffron is more of an allusion than an outright statement.
Under Ms. Wagenknecht, now the sole owner, the restaurant looks virtually the same as it did when she and the McNallys assembled it, including the Art Deco bar, itself larger than many restaurants. One night, when I’d arrived early, I was waiting there with a fine approximation of a Sazerac when I asked the bartender if there were any main courses I shouldn’t overlook. He thought about it for a while.Under Ms. Wagenknecht, now the sole owner, the restaurant looks virtually the same as it did when she and the McNallys assembled it, including the Art Deco bar, itself larger than many restaurants. One night, when I’d arrived early, I was waiting there with a fine approximation of a Sazerac when I asked the bartender if there were any main courses I shouldn’t overlook. He thought about it for a while.
“The roast chicken is kind of a sleeper,” he finally said. Whether roast chicken qualifies as an underdog is debatable, but the Odeon does a fine job with it and sends it to the table with root vegetables and a simple jus.“The roast chicken is kind of a sleeper,” he finally said. Whether roast chicken qualifies as an underdog is debatable, but the Odeon does a fine job with it and sends it to the table with root vegetables and a simple jus.
A better sleeper candidate is the omelet. Who goes to a restaurant for an omelet? I do, if it’s the one at the Odeon, which tastes like real eggs and is a little puffy but never looks as if it is trying out for a role as a balloon in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.A better sleeper candidate is the omelet. Who goes to a restaurant for an omelet? I do, if it’s the one at the Odeon, which tastes like real eggs and is a little puffy but never looks as if it is trying out for a role as a balloon in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Cooking like this is sometimes called comfort food, but I think of the menu and everything else about the Odeon as restorative. The word shares a root with restaurant, a term that goes back to pre-revolutionary France, when aristocrats made a show of their delicate constitutions by sipping health-giving bouillons in public dining rooms.Cooking like this is sometimes called comfort food, but I think of the menu and everything else about the Odeon as restorative. The word shares a root with restaurant, a term that goes back to pre-revolutionary France, when aristocrats made a show of their delicate constitutions by sipping health-giving bouillons in public dining rooms.
The Odeon doesn’t market itself to neurasthenics on the verge of collapse, but it does go out of its way not to jangle anybody’s nerves. In so many places now, the servers want to know if you have any questions about the menu. (When you don’t, they always seem disappointed.) They want to know if it’s your first time, too, as if special instructions might be required.The Odeon doesn’t market itself to neurasthenics on the verge of collapse, but it does go out of its way not to jangle anybody’s nerves. In so many places now, the servers want to know if you have any questions about the menu. (When you don’t, they always seem disappointed.) They want to know if it’s your first time, too, as if special instructions might be required.
At the Odeon the servers never ask either question, probably because they assume the answer will be no. They are steady, unexcitable and prompt. Most of all, they don’t seem to need anything from you except your order and eventually your credit card.At the Odeon the servers never ask either question, probably because they assume the answer will be no. They are steady, unexcitable and prompt. Most of all, they don’t seem to need anything from you except your order and eventually your credit card.
Once in a while, it’s nice not to be needed. It’s good to know that you don’t have to live up to the chef’s expectations, too.Once in a while, it’s nice not to be needed. It’s good to know that you don’t have to live up to the chef’s expectations, too.
The restaurant world has gone a little crazy lately. Other parts of the world were crazy a long time ago. This is why the Odeon has been hitting the spot for me these past few months. I go there to feel restored, to act sane for a while, and to finish my meal with a crème brûlée that’s exactly what I expect.The restaurant world has gone a little crazy lately. Other parts of the world were crazy a long time ago. This is why the Odeon has been hitting the spot for me these past few months. I go there to feel restored, to act sane for a while, and to finish my meal with a crème brûlée that’s exactly what I expect.