(Early) Autumn in New York: Prune

How do I begin to describe the place that, in my mind at least, is the Platonic ideal of that convivial little boîte that everyone wants to have just down the block from their home? Will I be able to do it justice, to convey how absolutely perfect it is?

Here is my attempt. Call it my ode to Prune.

For me, Gabrielle Hamilton's little gem of a restaurant is truly the perfect neighborhood bistro, the kind of place I could only hope to open in my dreams.

I position Prune at the top of my pantheon of tiny, quirky chef-owned restaurants that I have become enamored with over the years. At the very least, this list would have to include Pinotxo and Cal Pep in Barcelona, El Cairat in Falset (Catalonia, Spain), Delfina (especially before they expanded, when Craig still manned the stoves nightly and Ann stood watch over the floor), Liberty Cafe, Woodward's Garden (5 or 10 years ago), and the recently opened Canteen, all in San Francisco. When it comes to restaurants, these are my beloved "sardines." [Here's a suggestion: if you share my enthusiasm for small neighborhood restaurants, feel free to add your own favorites to the list in the "comments" section].

There seems to be no detail of Prune that I don't adore. The antique zinc-topped French bar, which seats just four people on rickety, uncomfortable stools. The long buttercream wall lined with distressed wooden mirrors, each topped with votive candles. The way that the candles, the silver-dipped bare light bulbs along the walls, and the school-house lamps hanging from above manage to cast a flattering glow on all the diners. Tables that are placed so ridiculously close together that the server has to pull your table completely away from the wall every time you want to sit down or get up from the banquette.

I also love the brief, well-edited list of wines and cocktails. And the professional servers, sporting tight pink T-shirts, tattoos and piercings, reminding you that you're dining in the East Village and not Paris.

But really, it's the food that brings me back again and again (I try to dine or brunch there on every visit to New York). Gabrielle Hamilton's food is as sassy and original as her writing. From the spicy, messy boiled peanuts that (currently) begins a meal to the chunk of bittersweet chocolate that ends it, the gustatory experience at Prune is delightfully unique.

As usual, on this past visit I struggled to choose among the many tempting menu offerings. Thankfully, there wasn't a tuna tartare, caesar salad, flat-iron steak, or rotisserie chicken anywhere in sight. Instead, I was faced with the happy task of deciding which unusual appetizer I craved more amongst a selection that included sweetbreads, monkfish liver, head-on prawns with anchovy butter, and sardines.

Of course, smart reader, you guessed which I chose! The kitchen served the ceviche-style cured fresh sardine fillets on top of toasted ciabatta and thinly sliced avocado, scattered with ribbons of scallions. The tart vinegar of the marinade, the creaminess of the avocado and the crunch of the bread played off each other so naturally it made me wonder why this isn't as classic a partnership as Fred and Ginger or Hepburn and Tracy.

Among the main courses, the choices included many items in my personal hit parade, like whole roasted branzino and rib-eye steak. But really, how could I have resisted the suckling pig?

How often do you see that on a menu (especially in the Bay Area)? I couldn't have been happier with my choice. The seasonal accompaniments--a chutney of barely cooked, ginger-spiked cherry tomatoes, a salad of black-eyed peas and parsley leaves, and an oozing dollop of Mexican crema--complemented the juicy, tender pig. The glasslike shards of crispy pork skin on top of the meat contributed the requisite bit of crunch that diners adore. 

In a perfect world, the pears in my tart would have been as ripe and juicy as the crust was buttery and tender. Alas, as any pastry chef knows, pears are tricky business, and these came perhaps too early in the season to achieve that elusive point of ripeness. But minor missteps like this one are easily forgiven.

The beauty of Prune is that there is an unstated agreement between you as the diner and Gabrielle Hamilton and her staff. You both know that, at its soul, Prune is that elusive neighborhood bistro of everyone's dreams, the little-restaurant-that-could. You can't help but cheer them on and be grateful for the herculean effort that they make in that impossibly cramped dining room and equally diminutive kitchen, to dazzle and charm and surprise you.

Along with everlasting gratitude, your only wish at the conclusion of your meal is that Prune truly was just around the corner from your home, so you could go there more often.

Food|and Drink|Restaurants|Review|New York

Comments

[Nopisto]

Hi Brett, if you ever come to Madrid don't miss Asturianos, our favourite wine-bar, tapas bar, bistrot and everything.

By the way, I just have dedicated you a post on my blog.

Cheers

[Jennifer]

Brett,

I'm so jealous--I've been trying to get to Prune for awhile now--my very next visit home I'll do it. I love your write-up. The closest thing we have to that here is Alto Cinco (www.alto-cinco.com). A great Mexican restaurant--yes, in Syracuse--that is truly the neighborhood place where excellent food and wine is served up daily.

[radish]

Hmm. I've been to Prune half a dozen times and have yet to have a truly exceptional meal. Insofar as comfort food goes, it fails to really grab me even there. Somehow, the flavors fall short of being just right - but they do come close. It's a restaurant that has been written about, talked about, raved about. I went there in the first week it opened - it was decent. But it stayed there and failed to elevate for me. I'm trying to think of a restaurant that makes fantastic food of the same genre as Prune, but at 7am, I'm not thinking too clearly. Actually, Jerry's in Soho does just that for me. I thought for awhile tha tmaybe something's wrong with my perception until another foodie friend of mine, confessed to me in secret, that she too as underwhelmed by the experience. So I don't know... Maybe I'm missing something...

[Luisa]

Hi Brett - just realized that the appetizer that you ate is from a recipe in Paula Wolfert's The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen! It's a delicious combination: avocados, marinated sardines, toast - I've eaten this standing up in my kitchen many times; it's so satisfying. And I totally agree with you on Prune - might be my favorite place to eat in New York (I blogged about it, too). Glad you had such a good time!

[Brett]

Nopisto, next time I'm in Madrid, I'll definately try Asturianos. Muchas gracias por dedicar el post sobre las sardinas a mí!

Jennifer, I wouldn't have expected a good Mexican restaurant in Syracuse.

Radish, you're not alone in your opinion. Not everyone likes Prune as much as I do. But just as we don't all like the same people or books or movies, we all have those things that, for whatever reason, particularly resonate with us. Also, thanks for recommending Jerry's.

Luisa, you're absolutely right about the sardine dish. I remember it caught my attention when I read PWolfert's cookbook, one of my favorites, because the simple recipe came from none other than Ferran Adrià of El Bulli. The only difference is that GH of Prune marinates her own fresh sardines for this dish, rather than using canned.

[Rachael]

To have a perfect neighborhood spot is all part of the NYC dream. Isnt it. In my version, the restaurant would be CamaJe , but I from your descriptions, Prune sounds like a true contender...wowee, wow.

[shuna]

This is my favorite restaurant in NYC. I love Gabrielle's signature, her style, wit, and attitude. I love the service, the architectural details, (although it tends to be a bit chilly in the winter), and my meals always make me ellated. High, even though I don't drink.

I think that a key to enjoying her meals is accessing unadulturated joy, the giggling kind, not the austere kind. If one goes to Prune expecting seamless French technique or an over-the-top experience, they might miss the party.

are you in NY? I'm here too.

[cookiecrumb]

"Thankfully, there wasn't a tuna tartare, caesar salad, flat-iron steak, or rotisserie chicken anywhere in sight."
--because Michael Bauer isn't a NYC reviewer!
:D

[Brett]

Shuna, sigh, I'm no longer in NYC. Hope you get a chance to get high on Prune this trip.

Cookiecrumb, don't get me started on Bauer! Who elected him restaurant-reviewer-for-life? Why can't we get some fresh eyes (and taste buds) to evaluate our restaurants?

[Tana]

Hey, Brett, better late than never. I was Googling "Gabrielle Hamilton," and came across this post.

My favorite neighborhood bistros would be:

In Santa Cruz: Gabriella Cafe, Ristorante Avanti, Oswald (a bit more expensive than the other two)

In San Francisco: Le Petit Robert at Polk and Green. Have you been there?

[Johanna]

hi -you have fantastic taste in restaurants! i agree completely but would add lucques on sundays and AOC in LA, and Zuni Cafe in San Francisco. Also Oleanna in Cambridge, MA. also Moro, Clarke's, the Anchor and Hope and St. John in London