The Bread Bar at Tabla

At first I was at a complete loss as to how to write this post.  You see, our only digital camera is G's video camera.  So I lugged that giant with me in my purse, if you can imagine, out to dinner with four girlfriends last night.  And each time I aimed it at the plush and lovely restaurant setting, the delectable food, the fun drinks, the adorable wait-staff, the delightful friends -- it didn't work.  It stayed dark.  Way too dark.  I called G for a quick consult, and realized that it was basically just too dark in the restaurant to get a real picture.  G said there was probably a setting that we never use that would alleviate the problem, but at that point I was beyond experimentation and into my first passionfruit cosmo (which carries the embarrassing title of Lots of Passion.  Such a name causes a moment of unseemly coyness when ordering from the aforementioned attractive wait-staff).   In any case, I comforted myself with the fact that many a restaurant review is posted without photos -- and this is actually more of a restaurant anecdote than a review. 

So I have no pictures for you tonight.  But I do have a tale.  The Bread Bar is one of my favorite restaurants in New York -- and it's probably G's absolute one hundred percent favorite.  We don't go there often;  we reserve it for the occasional special evening, and so end up having a meal there perhaps twice a year.  But we love the Indian street-food menu.  Chef Floyd Cardoz seasonally rotates and reinvents both the Bread Bar's menu and the more formal yet extraordinarily creative Indian fusion cuisine upstairs at Tabla.  That too has been and still is wonderful, but truthfully we're hooked on the Bread Bar's fruity cocktails, hot cumin-spiced popcorn at the bar, and the ritual of sharing a mix of "small plates", "large plates" and luscious hot Indian-style breads -- nibbling the evening away with spicy food and spicier conversation. 

Last night's adventure was not without bumps in the road.  When I called Adrienne to make sure knew where the restaurant was, she reminded me that we'd been there for a drink late one night a few weeks ago.  "Yeah, it's the one next to that Potter's Field," she said.  "That field with all the rats."  What she's referring to is Madison Park, a nice little green space beautifully refurbished by the city several years ago.  It certainly spent a long time in a state of disrepair, but for several years grassy borders have been maintained and trimmed, paths have been paved, flowers have been planted, benches have been replaced, and many people who are still among the living spend their lunch hours there in good weather.  It's not quite the Jardin du Luxembourg, but it's really a fine little park for the neighborhood.  On our brief sojourn to the Bread Bar several weeks ago, Adrienne made us walk around the perimeter of the park, on the other side of the street.  I wasn't quite sure whether we were avoiding the souls of the undead or the rats that she insisted were rampant in the area.   I have to say that as a descriptor, the whole Potters' Field thing is vastly unfair.  Both Tabla and Eleven Madison Park, another of Danny Meyer's beautiful restaurants, are in the old Metropolitan Life building.  The glorious art-deco architecture of the building exterior has been preserved, and the interiors have been re-created as magnificent, soaring spaces where your senses dine on more than just food and drink.  In fact, they'd both be worth going to even just to look; even if you weren't going to eat and imbibe.  However, refraining from those activities would be rather a shame, and is not recommended. 

Susan and Lourdes were given confusing directions, but arrived in good time.  Some of the ambrosial house cocktails were ordered and served:  the Tablatini, a lemon-grass/pineapple infusion; Lots of Passion; the Kumquat Mojito, and the House Sidecar, made with pear cognac and other sumptuous ingredients.  Each one was extraordinary.  After toasts to birthday girl Marcela had been made, I explained the Bread Bar sharing ethos.  Everyone appeared enthusiastic -- at first.  Then they perused the menu.  "Well, I want this salad just for me."  "No-one else wants this dish?  I really want to try it."  And suddenly it seemed as if we would all be ordering separately.  This simply isn't done at the Bread Bar.  I wrung my hands and gnashed my teeth, but quietly -- not to attract attention or anything.  Suddenly, like a savior on the horizon, our waiter appeared.  As if the previous ten minutes had never even occurred, he explained that all dishes are meant to be shared, and that they're brought out in no particular order, but as each one is ready.   I looked at him and shrugged.  "I tried, Lord knows I've tried," I said.  And so began our many laughs of the evening.  Everyone ordered what appealed to them, but we all ended up eating from all the dishes, just as it should be. 

The first dish to arrive was a lightly spiced roasted beet salad, which was delicious, but perhaps not unlike a beet salad you might make for yourself.   Close on its heels, however, was the dark horse of the evening, a salmon ceviche that provided an arresting combination of flavors and textures.  It had zing, zip, tang, crunch and bite, all in and around silky slices of salmon.  I can't even begin to analyze what was in it other than some shreds of delicious crunchy root vegetable and peanuts, which proved an unexpected but perfect partnership.   Next up was a bowl of Sindi Sai Bhaji, a comforting, gently seasoned puree of vegetables and chickpeas.  Breads appeared, addictive cultural cross-overs:  a cheese-oozing kulcha, and a puffy sourdough naan.  Then plates of tried-and-true favorites came out -- huge, smoky tandoori shrimp with black pepper and coriander;  saag paneer pizza, a crunchy whole-wheat crust covered with a spinach/chickpea mix and topped with goat cheese, and finally the Bread Bar's signature chicken tikka, spiced marinated grilled chicken breast, which is served with a fresh green tangle of watercress and a luscious chutney --  definitely my pick for the best chicken tikka in NYC.  At this point we were well into delving for the dirt on current relationships, and dishing past amours.  We were also well into our second round of large drinks.  We shook our heads at the ghosts of our occasionally unpretty pasts, drank up, and kept nibbling.   Later we shared a delectable plate of tiny cookies, more to have something to put a candle in and sing a Happy Birthday for Marcela since none of us wanted much dessert by this point.  But the little sweets were irresistable: teensy macaroons and brown sugar bars not much bigger than dice, chewy chocolate buttons and chocolate chip bites, and a surprising cardamom oatmeal cookie.

Finally, sated with both comestibles and conversation, we ventured into the night.  It was cold outside, especially for March (we've been getting more snow in this month than during all the rest of the winter).  As I climbed into a cab with Adrienne, I noticed that she didn't say a word about Potters' Field or make any other unsavory references that might cast aspersions on where we'd just spent the evening.  Instead, she waxed appreciative of the marvelous food and drink, and we relived some of our best laughs as we sped uptown.  Such is the power of Girls' Night Out in the right place.

Tabla/The Bread Bar
11 Madison Avenue (at 25th St.)
New York, NY 10010
212-889-0667

Comments

[Deb]

Julie what a lovely evening, the food sounded wonderful, your writing is awesome and I need to get myself and hubby to Tabla soon!
You had me rolling on the floor with your description of Madison Square Park- it was indeed a haven for rats quite a few years ago but has since undergone a massive renovation. The girl and I spent most of the summer and all of the fall in the playground area, it is one of the nicest playground areas in the city now, imagine that!

[Ernie]

I love the Bread Bar, also one of my faves. I've eaten upstairs at Tabla, although the food and service were wonderful, I too prefer the Bread Bar. It's cozier and you can try so many different things. The chicken tikka is amazing, so is a lamb sandwich with mashed potatoes in the sandwich. I had the oppurtunity to work with Floyd Cardoz once, and he was a remarkable chef, and kind as well. Julie, it sounds like you had a great meal.

Ernie

[Julie]

Hi Deb,

I know, I love Madison Park -- and obviously so does a signficant part of the city's population! And you definitely have to go to Tabla one night. Both the restaurant and the Bread Bar are well worth trying.

Hey Ernie,

At first I was determined to get that lamb and mashed potato sandwich, since I've wanted to try it for ages, but I knew from the climate of the table that I would be the only one eating it, and I was TRYING to follow a sharing protocol, despte others at the table...They also have taken one of my faves off the menu, Lamb Chops "Rogan Josh" which was absolutely delish. Ah well -- perhaps it will return.

[Moira]

Hi Julie,

I tried to leave a comment when you first posted, but it seems as though my browser or Typepad was acting up.

It sounds like you all had a great time, despite the ordering snafus, and all of the food sounds fab. I wish you and Ernie hadn't mentioned the lamb and mashed potato sandwich...that sounds absolutely delicious. Since there's no way for me to have one right this minute, I'm just going to be bitter about it. Thanks for wrecking my week with your great write-up, Julie! ;-)

[rowena]

Hands down I would've ordered Lots of Passion too...and I would've been brazen enough to wink at the waiter as well if he'd been deemed worthy of an eyelash batting....Brava!

Julie since this post had so many phrases that just lured me in, I'll just do a list of what got me dancing around my apartment (well mentally).

1. Indian street-food
2. Indian fusion cuisine
3. passionfruit (as a kid my father and I would go passionfruit-gathering in the sugarcane fields...they grew like weeds, nobody wanted them)
4. Bread Bar sharing ethos--I rue the fact that we don't know many couples who like this style of eating. What's wrong with communal eating? I'll share everything on the table except my dessert.
5. spiced roasted beet salad (loooove beets!)

My husband and I dined at an Indian fusion restaurant over the weekend (Masala in Lecco) and it was a *first* for me although my husband had eaten at an indian restaurant years ago in Torino. At first he was hesitant about eating at another indian place again because at that other restaurant, he was horrified to see a rat scurrying into the kitchen when he passed by to use the washroom.

I guess you could say that rats don't scare me when I'm curious about the food.

It turned out to be a fantastic dining experience and I only wish I knew more about indian cuisine. Definitely much more to it than mulligatawny soup! And ehm...no rats in sight.

But ooooh...how I wish you'd been able to get some pics!

[Julie]

Oh puh-leeze, Moira. Boo-frikkin'-hoo, I feel so sorry for you, since you live in England where, unlike NYC, the majority of Indian restaurants are actually good. Then again, if you don't live near London that may not make any difference. Hmmm. Well, you're allowed to be bitter as long as it's justified. Just put the Bread Bar on your NYC list, and as soon as you get here, we'll ply you with lamb and mashed-potato sandwiches.

Rowena, for some reason it's hard for me to imagine Indian food in Italy (I guess I think that the Italians have such good food that why would they want to eat anything else, but of course we all want variety). Masala sounds like it was great. If you want some good Indian recipes, check out Deb's posts at In My Kitchen (http://www.murrayhill5.net/blog/inmykitchenblog/) She has some great recipes for Murgh Masala and Saag Gosht, fairly recent posts. And the pic situation should be resolved soon...

[Moira]

Ha! I have two words for you Julie: FARM COUNTRY. We live about 80 miles north of London. There's one pretty good Indian restaurant in the vicinity, but it's nothing that blows your skirt up. Nothing like lamb and mashed potato sandwiches. I'm just saying.

Do I get my bitterness permission slip now? ;-)

[Joe C]

In addition to building those two great restaurants, civic-minded Danny also played an important role in the transformation of Madison Park.

[Julie]

Moira, bitterness permission granted. If only one could email a lamb-mashed-potato sandwich...

Joe, thanks for the background on Danny M -- which doesn't surprise me. He's done so much in addition to providing great food for NYers.