Restaurant Review: Dovetail

This past Sunday marked one year since Andrew and I started dating, so it was of course the perfect excuse to visit a restaurant I've been wanting to try for a while: Dovetail. Dovetail is especially interesting to me because it has not been slammed by a single major critic, which is almost unheard of; there is almost always that one guy who doesn't approve. I was eager to see whether this Upper West Side newcomer would live up to its reputation, or whether Platt, Freeman and the rest (Franktastic had not yet filed on Dovetail when we went) had been a little misleading with their overwhelmingly positive reviews.

I had a feeling when we first walked in that dining at Dovetail was going to be a special experience. And I must say, that feeling stayed with me from the first bite of homemade white cheddar cornbread all the way through to the final champagne chocolate truffle petit-four.

As soon as we slipped out of the rain into the somewhat inconspicuous glass door of the restaurant, I was impressed with the bi-level space. The hostess station is just up a few stairs, uniquely arranged with a large central counter space. You can see the bar area just behind, but otherwise nothing about the dining experience is revealed; the main dining room and the smaller, bright white space downstairs aren't visible until you are led there.

To start, I had the clam chowder and Andrew chose the Idaho potato gnocchi. I was a little nervous when my appetizer, a small pile of finely chopped veggies, plump clams, smoked potatoes and chorizo (where is the soup?!), arrived, but before I could think twice the waiter was pouring the creamy broth over the top. Accompanied by a delicate, buttery black pepper croissant, the chowder was was full of rich flavor, especially accented by the chorizo. Andrew's gnocchi, sitting atop a veal short ribs and foie gras butter, was a true lesson in decadence.

For main courses, I decided to diverge from my usual seafood and poultry selections, and went with the parsley-crusted lamb shank with polenta. The meat may have been the most tender piece of lamb I've tried yet, and the crust atop lent a spicy kick of Dijon. The cubes of polenta were deliciously reminiscent of the chickpea fries at Pamplona. Andrew chose the duck, another full-bodied dish replete with tender meat and pasta, topped off with a hen's egg.

There was no difficulty in choosing dessert, as Andrew went with the chocolate mousse, which I liked for it's tendency towards a cake-like consistency and caramel center. I had the carrot cake (sorry, still not better than Mom's) and was most impressed by it's tasty accompaniments: the airy frosting, crunchy slices atop the cake, the golden raisin and fennel puree.

Certainly as impressive as the food, if not more so, was the quality of service at the restaurant. Timing between courses was impeccable. A water glass was never less than half-empty. We never felt the slightest pressure to order anything more than tap water. Servers knew the second you were ready for your plate to be taken. When deciding between two entrees, our server actually recommended the less pricey of the two. And while these service standards really shouldn't be too hard to find, the truth is they are.

Dovetail's inventive, rich cuisine is enough to stand on it's own. But when such culinary exceptionalism is coupled with humble service, the experience is that much more enjoyable. Andrew and I said it when we left the restaurant, and a few days later, the Bruni corroborated our assessment: "Definitely three stars."

Stolen Goods

I was walking home from the gym a few days ago when I noticed my bag felt a little light, so I reached in to make sure my waterbottle was in there. Of course, it wasn't. This then led me to questioning whether my iPod was absent from my bag too, and as it turned out, it was gone also. I had just left the gym about ten minutes earlier, so I called them right away and asked them to check the locker room for me; I had left both the nano and my Nalgene right on the sink. (I placed them there to use the scale and, so distressed by the results, I forgot about reclaiming them. What a sob story!) The employee on the phone had a female staff member run into the bathroom to check it out. She retrieved the waterbottle, but the iPod was, of course, no where to be found. 

How nice of that thief to leave my plastic waterbottle for me! What a thoughtful human being. But really, if you are going to take my pod, you might as well just take the waterbottle too. Claiming the waterbottle alone wasn't going to appease me much, so why deny yourself this bonus item? But apparently we have a selective thief here. Well I was intent on finding this selective thief!

Although nearly all my hope of having the iPod returned to me was gone, I still felt inclined be proactive in seeking the return of my item. I decided on some signage; maybe a personal note from the victim would stir up a little bit of guilt on the thief's part. So I posted a couple notes in the locker room that read:

"If you found a small black iPod in the locker room yesterday, please return it to the desk! I have had a bad day and would really appreciate it" (How emotional!)

When I returned the next day, nothing had been returned and my signs had long been removed. 

That bastard! Just know that you may have tricked me once but I suggest you give that iPod as a gift to one of your children because if I see anything that vaguely resembles it at the gym,  I will come after you! Taking advantage of a woman saddened after getting on the scale. How dare you!