Manhattan is a city that likes to eat out. And so there are restaurants. A lot of restaurants. Whilst many of them are shut-before-you-blink media flashes in the pan, some do find the key to longevity but, in this city where meals are so often a medley of gastronomic cliché and mediocre execution, that key is often as much about the crowd as it is about the food.
It doesn’t help that with such a plethora of restaurant owners, critics and publicists screaming for the public’s attention, there is little incentive to visit a place more than once.
But when you do find a restaurant with a plate of food that transcends the pedestrian matched up with a conducive atmosphere and charming front of house there’s every reason to make it your go-to place.
For me that place is Bobo in the West Village, which I reviewed here, and in which owner Carlos Suarez has invested not just money but time over the past couple of years to make it one of the most attractive, intimate and interesting places to eat in the city. A 19thcentury townhouse with narrow staircases, candelit basement bar & pretty summer dining terrace, and a main room furnished with bibelots & antiques, as you might expect a friend’s dining room to be, is not what the English expect of stylish Manhattan restaurants: there’s no glass, chrome, ceiling air ducts, or cavernous public spaces, and it’s all the more appealing for it.
And the food…chef Patrick Connelly’s emphasis on local, seasonal and delicious allied with the house ethical stance makes a meal here a pleasure on every level.
As I’m about to return to New York, I’m also particularly pleased to hear on the grapevine that Bobo is considering an informal event space for investors and friends of the house. I think I qualify…
And there’s another incentive to stop flitting around NYC’s restaurant scene like a hipster with ADD and actually become a regular somewhere…