Eats
Resto 111 E 29th St (btwn Park/Lexington Aves)
212-685-5585 RestoNYC.com
DINING
NEXTMAGAZINE.COM
By Peter Sherwood hat was once known as a no-man’s-land is now known as NoMad. It’s still kind of a strange neighborhood, and where we were adventurously venturing was somewhere in between NoMad and Kips Bay to boot. (Someone told us Musto lives in Murray Hill, so to hell with these neighborhood classifications!) On 29th Street, you’ll find Resto, a respectable respite featuring an amalgam of cultural influences that incorporates bites from Belgium, bits of buon Italia and down home dishes from the South on the menu—throw about the widely used and apparently all-encompassing term “gastropub” if you will. When we stopped in for brunch, a host of Bloody Marys on the cocktail list just stared at us. We stared back and ordered the Bloody Grazer as an eye-opener. It listed beef as one of the ingredients! However, we discovered it was
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really just beef bouillon that was used, much like a classic Bloody Bull, with roasted garlic and horseradish. We skipped the gin and asked for vodka instead. The Bird on Bird with chicken broth, togarashi and a pickled quail egg was also up for consideration. The Grapefruit Collins with bitters was fine but a straightforward grapefruit and vodka was better. We discussed the Brunch Punch, an apparently powerful concoction, but nobody could explain what it actually was so we left it behind as it was only about 2:30 in the afternoon. Deviled eggs indeed had a bit of heat to them and were delightful. Served with squishy toasts made from breaded pork, they seemed a bizarre assemblage at first but ultimately did make sense. Picture a late-night dive into a Denny’s for a helping of sausage and eggs. The breakfeast is not to be taken lightly. This bad boy boasts a dry-aged rib eye that
weighs in at 36oz and in all fairness is meant for two. The Flintstones-worthy meat comes with four eggs, hollandaise sauce, toast and home fries—all for just a scaletipping $110. We chose a lighter course and instead traipsed through the Tuscan kale salad, which reminded us of Greek spanakopita, as it featured feta cheese, dill and slices of cool cucumber in liplicking lemon vinaigrette. We fled from The Fat Cat with fried eggs, cheddar and sausage, moved past the moules, electing instead the clever, amusing Belgian Hangover Pasta, which was more a twist on an Italian carbonara suited up for brunch. Vermont ham, Gruyère cheese and lots of black pepper mingled with sturdy coils of pasta and came together with the inclusion of an egg, sunny side up and suitable for dipping. A medium rare burger was also very satisfying with Gruyère and a topping of sliced red onions. The simple pickle that
came with it was divine and I loved the homemade mayo. The accompanying frites were stiff, however, and landed overly cooked and overly salted. While we questioned whether or not we should order dessert (we didn’t, although lemon poppy scones with sweet cream did seem like a good idea, and Southern biscuits with smoked maple butter did beckon, too), we feasted our eyes on the foot-
SHORT ORDER: A homey gastropub is housed in the odd block between NoMad and Kips Bay.
PETER’S PICKS: eye-opening Bloody Grazer cocktail; Tuscan kale salad; Belgian Hangover pasta
PETER’S PANS: We forgot to order a side of the thick slab bacon!