By Molly Gore
By Molly Gore
By Pete Kane
By Lou Bustamante
By Pete Kane
By Ashley Goldsmith
By Pete Kane
By John Birdsall
There may have been no more eagerly anticipated restaurant opening this year than that of RN74, familiarly known as "Michael Mina's new wine bar." Fans of his complicated and very pricey cooking at his eponymous restaurant in the Westin St. Francis were excited not only by the idea of the wine program put together by award-winning wine director Rajat Parr, but also by the small-plates menu: bargain Mina! Even in a restaurant that cost $4.5 million to open. Within a couple of weeks, however, the small-plates concept was replaced by a conventional menu; accounts vary as to why this happened.
The revised menu is divided into two courses, nine dishes labeled "First" and seven labeled "Second," all priced in double digits, with a ghost of the small plates remaining in a red-bordered box at the bottom of the menu as five dishes titled "Anytime," for $9 each.
When we walked in for our first dinner, we were somewhat flattened by the wall of noise. We requested a table in the dining room farthest from the large U-shaped bar space, separated from the rest of the room only by a collection of vintage railroad lamps strung on wires. The lamps, the arched ceiling, exposed struts, and signboards that mimic train departure boards while listing wines give the place the feeling of a train station.
RN74 is named after Route Nationale 74, the highway that passes through France's Burgundy region, which is reflected more in the impressive Burgundy collection in the massive and intimidating wine list (more of a book, really, that draws from many countries besides France) than in the modern American menu from executive chef Jason Berthold. He's a French Laundry vet who also produces his own wines.
After we'd decided what to eat, our server asked whether we wanted to consult with the sommelier, and we said sure — that was the point, wasn't it, of having such an intriguing list?
My friend told the sommelier that we were all having fish or fowl, so we wouldn't, for instance, want the Foillard Morgon, a red wine we liked that was on the list at $58. "Why not?" he said, brusquely, and stopped right there. Trying to help, I asked my friend whether it was a light red wine we could drink with what we were eating and he said no, it was too big. The sommelier was still silent, so my friend asked him for his preference among three French Sauvignon Blancs on the list, at which point he unbent enough to suggest a Slovenian Sauvignon called Movia, at $52. We eagerly accepted. After he left and we laughed about his rudeness, our charming server came over and told us more about the wine than the sommelier had felt like sharing.
The food was quite uneven. The best and most full-flavored things were from the "anytime" box: beautifully fried maitake mushroom tempura served with yuzu salt and a fluffy green onion mousseline sauce, and lusty smoked sturgeon rillettes topped with crème fraîche. I was less impressed with the prettily presented hamachi sashimi ($16), plated with crunchy hearts of palm, green apple, and pumpkin seed; and the warm Yukon gold potato soup ($12) garnished with fava beans and ramps — they both seemed a trifle bland. The best starter was the heartier sautéed pork belly with Manila clams ($15), amped up with garlic, smoked paprika, and parsley.
But most of the main courses left me cold. There was a pale plate of grilled cobia ($27) matched with turnips, Marcona almonds, broccolini, and Niçoise olives that didn't come together as a whole. The Italian yellow cornmeal and mascarpone agnolotti ($16, a first course ordered as a main) seemed a trifle stolid, perched among bits of artichokes and piquillo peppers. The most egregious failure was the organic chicken with fennel and apricots ($26), a large boneless breast cut in half that was visibly overcooked and should never have left the kitchen; it was dry and hard, as was the tiny square of brioche accompanying it misidentified as a "pudding."
The only main dish I enjoyed was the duck "cassoulet" ($27), with barley and shiitake mushrooms standing in for the beans, as well as spinach and carrots. I also liked our dessert, a smooth pot de crème ($9), unusually flavored with white sesame.
At a second dinner, I arrived early and perched at the bar, where I saw fried foods being served that aroused both my hunger and my interest. A server told me that they were from the bar menu, and that we could also order them in the dining room. When we were seated and I asked our server for the bar menu, he cautioned me that we couldn't order only from that, and I assured him we wouldn't.
I had already tried almost half the dishes on the dining room menu, and the bar menu offered 10 more. We started with its very enjoyable little pecan-crusted halibut fingers ($15) with brown butter rémoulade, and three glasses chosen from RN74's list of 50 wines available by the glass or taste: an Austrian and a German Riesling and a French Pinot Noir.