Annicka

What a funny story! We were set to see Diane Krall at the Capitol Theater in Portchester on a cold, drizzly February evening. I inquired about dinner with two frients (clients that turned to friends) residing in some proximity to the theater. One paused significantly and then recommended a place 15 miles west and out of the way. The other scoffed at the idea we would leave Brooklyn to eat in Westchester. He recommended finding something delicious in Queens en route. Well, that concept got me thinking about places I desire visiting near the BQE. Selecting dinner options via highway proximity feels foreign and returns to days' of great old journals like The Michelin Guide and The Green Book. So we selected Annicka and it was delightful.

From the setting to the service to the food, all facets were nearly perfect. The image shows our dishes. I won’t detail all of them, just the charred cauliflower. It was such a revelation. The florets were charred just shy of burnt and then sprinkled with a seasoning that was salty and lemony. Those florets then sat in a lovely beet and cauliflower stem sauce. This sauce was closer to pesto texture than a puree. Annicka is worth going to, no matter your current location. As delightful a meal as we’ve had in some time. Maybe not quite as impressive as Semilla yet in that direction. Long live Annicka!

Atla

Consistency in concept. As a few weeks pass since my lunchtime visit, that phrase best describes Atla. It feels like a casual offshoot of Cosmé. And I actively disliked it as much as I dislike Cosmé. Now, nothing is wrong with the food. I didn’t get sick. The service is fine. Nobody insulted me. The space is airy and clean. It all feels like a television set. Like at any moment a series of Haddad trucks could double-park on Lafayette and break down Atla in 2 hours. Future passerbys would ask did it really even happen? Did I even eat at Atla? And if you did, the food quality would not be the reason you’d remember it. On my visit I had the ranchero eggs with avocado. It was fine except not aligned with the service. I asked the waitress to help me select a dish (something spicy and not messy; note: I was in a suit). She struggled so mightily that I selected the ranchero to put her out of the misery I induced. What a messy dish. Large pieces of torn of tortilla covered in a nice sauce held two poached eggs. Stale tortillas don’t cut easily. The eggs will make the sauce messier. I asked myself how am I going to eat this mess? I tried and succeeded in staying clean though after 50% I stopped trying. It wasn’t worth the potential risk. I ordered an agua fresca to accompany my lunch. The drink is served in lovely glassware with a dozen small ice cubes (perfect cubes). Each time I lifted the drink to my mouth, the ice cubes came tumbling towards me. And this agua fresca was purple! What a potential mess. I asked for a straw and the check, finished my beverage, paid the bill and wondered: did that really happen?