Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Bobo Residence

I’ve been spoiled lately on the likes of Brazilian festivities, a private townhouse dinner, …lovely Minneapolis. Ok, ok; I haven’t actually been to Brazil or gone to any friend of mine’s townhouse this week, but my dining experiences have been such that I’ve really been delving into truly immersive experiences.

On a whim last week, I went to BoBo, a restaurant situated in a townhouse in the heart of the West Village, but that, oddly, has managed to fly under the radar since it’s opening in September. Sure, there is no sign out front, and their opening chef garnered so not so good reviews, but this—now with a new chef—is exactly the type of place New Yorkers love: quaint and lovely yet invokes the feeling that there could be some tabloid worthy couples lurking, food spectacular and delicate without being overly fussy or too designed on each plate. The place has character to say the least; each room feels like the room of someone’s eccentric West Village place.

The best part of the house is surely the terraced backyard, where I sat for an early dinner on a Friday night. Shockingly, the place—both indoors and outdoors—was less than a quarter full. Summer cocktails like Pimm’s Royale made with no. 1 and Spicy Cucumber Margherita’s are must-tries if you are in the mood for drinking. If wine is more your speed, there are plenty of very reasonably priced bottles—a nice comfort in what could have been a pretentious endeavor.

Food changes each night, depending of what (new) Chef Jared Stafford-Hill—formerly of Hearth—finds at the market. Scallops served crudo-style with beet wedges and baby asparagus tasted of spring. Equally as satisfying was the seared tuna served with a stack of white beans and arugula. A delicious piece of local Halibut was perfectly golden and crispy on the top, flaky and moist within. It came smathered in tapenade and rested upon springtime leeks and other first-of-the-season vegetables. The mushrooms, which came as a side dish were phenomenal. Salty and buttery, cooked but crispy, it was a fight to hold the little Staub cocotte in which the medley of chanterelles and buttons and oysters came.

Dessert was a chocolate soufflé for two, plus the still not packed terrace where we lingered for another hour or so. Go soon!

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