Allen and Delancey

I've only seen Carebear three times since she gave birth to her beautiful baby daughter about six months ago. The last time I saw her was for her birthday dinner at, you guessed it, Allen and Delancey. Friendship is a bustling two-way street, but once your friend gives birth, she's allowed to veer off on her own one-way path. Not seeing her more often has been entirely my fault. As a single girl in the city, I'm always trying to find/be the party. In my best Ado Annie voice, "I cain't say no," for fear of missing my Mr. Right (or Mr. Wrong?) on any given night's escapades.

After several Sunday fun days of saying yes, yes, yes, I'm convinced alcohol runs through my veins more than blood. Hence my recent vow to be on the wagon until the second week in April. I made sure to announce it to all parties involved, and in retrospect, I’m not so sure this was a good idea. It’s similar to going on a diet. You think by advertising "No fries because of South Beach!" will help ease the temptation and the pressure of eating fun stuff. But what ends up happening is the opposite. You feel even more pressure and more guilt and you're stuck wearing this crappy scarlet letter, as opposed to being genuinely healthy, no questions asked.

Two days into being on the wagon, I see Fashionista for a hot second at the gym. It goes something like this:

F: I'm not going to see you all weekend. We have to do something fun before you leave!

M: Yah, as long as it doesn't involve drinking. I'm on the fence on being on the wagon for three weeks...

F: You can just go out and drink a glass of wine. It's good for the heart.

M: YEEE-ah, RI-yeet...Shirley Temples?

Awkward pause.

M: Well, what were you thinking?

F: Schiller's? Tomorrow?

I cringe with frustration at my backbone, as sturdy as Gumby's.

M: Ooooooo-kay!

What is that? A mere 48 hours on the darn wagon and I'm already jumping off. Somebody throw me back on, please! I wish my will power was as high as my tolerance...

*

The first time I saw Carebear as a new mommy was in the hospital 24 hours after she popped. I was on the evening shift and stopped in before work. I got to spend a couple of hours in the hospital room, talking it through, hearing the play-by-play from her husband and her mom, while zipping through hundreds of pictures. That baby is what I call a 25PPH baby, that is, she has 25 pictures of her taken per hour, no joke. And her speed hasn't slowed down since her first day on this planet. Mommy sends them out to us on a weekly basis.

"Did it hurt?" Aside from checking in on mommy and daughter, that's all I really cared about.

"Yes!"

Oh god.

"But it totally helps if you're in shape or an athlete. That's one reason for you, Mona, to keep up your swimming and running."

Yes, it is! The next time someone asks me why I exercise, I'll respond rubbing my belly, "To get through the labor of my unborn child."

Carebear's daughter was in the baby intensive care unit for a few days before she got to go home to mom and dad. It was stressful and I know it killed Carebear to go home without her baby. Luckily, baby went home with family at the end of the week and I let them settle into their groove for a couple of months before I stopped over for lunch.

When I did I walked in to quite the adorable scene. Mommy was in a tank and shorts, tres casual for Carebear, and baby was chillin' on an extra large pillow-turned-bed on the couch, limbs everywhere, like a giant four-legged starfish. Carebear and I ordered sushi and we managed to get through a few bites before there was some noise coming from the couch. I felt like I was disturbing the feng shui in the room, and baby wasn't having it. All I wanted to do was throw on a pair of PJs and play for the rest of the day with the two girls. I had to race off to work, but I wasn't leaving without my photo op. I'd been seeing everyone else's pictures with baby for months and the envy of having my own portrait was killing me.

Fast forward a few months, and several hundred baby pictures, I received a birthday dinner alert from Carebear. Carebear is surprisingly in the know when it comes to new and chic restaurants in the city. A good portion of all the places I've been to in Manhattan and loved were because of her recommendation. Landmarc, Alta, Stanton Social, Le Bilboquet, BondSt, Esperanto and Ditch Plains, to name a few. It's amusing that the girl who can't remember a movie, or notice a celebrity if they smacked her in the face on Spring Street, knows her restaurants.

For me, it was love at first sight. Allen & Delancey was designed by Jason Volenec of RKIT. You can be sure I will be checking out his other venue Cantina, and any of his future projects for that matter. Allen and Delancey had every element of charm I love in a restaurant-- the perfect lighting, exposed brick, dark wood, space, a separate bar in the front that you can actually sit at, two dining rooms (each with a different feel) and candles. All it was missing was a fireplace and wooden stove and I would have camped out there for the rest of the winter. I can't imagine what will happen to this place come Christmas-time but I know I will want to make a trip back.

After we checked our coats, we headed to our table. We sat at a booth in the shape of a half-moon. There were five of us and we were a little tight. It would have been the perfect table for four, but we managed.

We had a very resourceful, knowledgeable young man serving us and he did a fabulous job answering our questions and concerns about the menu. He even steered us in one direction over another, which I appreciate in a server. Honesty is key. Don't try to sell me the most expensive dish. We can see through that. Sell us what we'll eat and never forget.


The bread was one of my favorite things on the table. We each got two small warm bread balls-- one was a bacon bread and the other was plain. I liked them so much I was stealing them kindergarten-style off the other girls' plates.

Wherever I go out to eat I ask if they serve St. Germain. At A&D I didn't even have to request it. It was staring at me in the face from the cocktail list.

The Delancey.

I shared my excitement with our server about them serving my friend's creation and he was a little frightened. Did he think I was kidding? I mean, I guess it doesn't happen that often that somebody at your table throws it out there, "Oh, I'll have this drink because I know the person who invented it."

Nevertheless, I told him I had to try St. Germain and report back to my friend, its creator. Sadly, I had to tell him the truth. The cocktail was made with entirely too much pomegranate juice and prosecco and not nearly enough St. Germain. I had to ask him to bring me an extra shot because I couldn't taste the most important ingredient. I never complain about cocktails, but this one's close to my heart and I wanted them to serve it right.

For starters we tried the shavings of hamachi, pink grapefruit beads and pickled fennel. This was a really zesty appetizer. It was almost like a palette cleanser but it was the first thing we ate. It had a cool, bitter taste to it and was perfect for sharing. The hamachi just split apart with the slightest touch of a fork. It reminded me of something you'd see at WD-50. I loved the mix of sour citrus and fish.

We also split the sea scallops, celery root cream, braised cipollini onions and verjus. As you all know, I'm not a huge scallops fan, but these were well-cooked and had a sweetness to them that I really liked. They were chewy but not rubbery like most scallops I've had in the past.


Our entrees included the following:
braised fluke, cauliflower cream, parsley root and trompettes...


another order of sea scallops (yes, someone was a little scallop-happy at dinner that night)...


fillet of cod, fennel, confit lemon, oyster veloute and caviar...

roast salmon fillet, five day spinach, cippolini jam and red wine fumet...


and lastly Colorado lamb chop persillade, braised middle neck and potato puree.



I don't know what dish I liked best. Everything had such a unique presentation and flavor. I'm normally wary of ordering so much seafood in one meal, but each plate seemed to outdo the next. The fluke had this soft crust on top that I wanted to steal from my neighbor's plate. Cod is so plain-tasting it's really dependent on what you serve with it and the lemon confit and caviar complimented it perfectly. The salmon looked beautiful with its delicate layer of skin, but out of the three fishes, this was my least favorite. I didn't like what it was paired with.

Three guesses what I ordered. Yah, that's right. Meat. I asked the waiter for his recommendation and when he said the lamb chop I was sold. I barely needed a knife to cut the boiling tender meat off the bone. I'm normally turned off by lamb chops because I hate dealing with the bone but it was like it wasn't even there. It tasted like a filet that happened to be on a stick. The sauce was light enough that it didn't overpower the meat, but strong enough that it lathered my potatoes in sweet goodness.

As it was a birthday party, we couldn't skip dessert. We tried the chocolate peanut butter tart and malted milk sorbet with a whiskey vanilla shake. It did not disappoint. The classic, "Oh, I'll just have a bite," were our famous last words. At the end it was a fight to the finish. The idea of putting a little shake with a straw on the plate was too adorable to go unnoticed. I loved this touch. And who would have thought whiskey and vanilla tasted so good together? Next time I hit up the diner for a vanilla milkshake, I'll say forget the vanilla syrup, throw in some whiskey! If I'm off the wagon, of course...


My only complaint about Allen and Delancey was the final tab. I suffered from minor sticker shock. Between the four of us, and covering Carebear's meal, we each paid $115. It was a little bit more than I intended on paying for dinner that night, but my heavy (and happy) stomach balanced out my lighter wallet. Now at least when I return, I know what to expect.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Gail Simmons was sitting at the exact table directly opposite from us. Sadly the chef visited her and skipped over the civilians. Her and her gal pals were enjoying the Delanceys as much as I did, after my extra shot of St. Germain. I wonder if they noticed the St. Germain shortage.

On our way out, we headed to the coat check to retrieve our winter layers. One of my friends LynchburgLass asked for her coat back and was jolted from her food buzz.

The coat check girl looked at her blankly and said, "We can't find it," and continued to sit there and do nothing as if it was nothing. I thought Lass' eyes were going to pop out of her head when she said, "Well I gave it to you so I'd appreciate it if you found it."

The coat check girl turned away for two minutes, and turned back again, "We can't find it."

I'm just relieved this happened to the somewhat calm LynchburgLass and not myself. Had this girl so nonchalantly informed me my coat went missing into the Allen abyss of a coat check, there's no telling what would have happened, since I hate coat checks to begin with. Lass eventually busted back there herself and went digging for it successfully.

"Make sure this goes in the blog, Mona!" She said.

"Oh, don't you worry. It all goes in the blog," I responded, "From door open to door close." I debated taking a mugshot of our coat caper but I decided that was a little aggressive.

Gentlemen, if you want to impress a lady on a date, take her to Allen and Delancey. I'd say it's a little uber-romantic for a first date, but perfect for that third or fourth date when you're confident mood-lighting is the way to go.

Ladies, if you want to impress a guy with your New York City food-saviness, take him to Allen and Delancey. You won't be disappointed.

As for me, I plan on taking friends back to A&D, if I can get a reservation. I'm sure it's already popping up on Eater's [impossible to get] resy feed. Who knows, maybe Carebear will let me take baby there for her birthday several years from now, presuming it's still around. I can't wait to tell baby about my adventures with Carebear, starting with our crazy days as first years and roommates on the swim team at Virginia, and then growing up in our post-college New York world. And I'll tell her that her mom will always be one of my go to friends, whether I've spoken to her in a couple of weeks, or a couple of months, and of course, whether I'm on or off the wagon.

115 Allen St., at Delancey
212.253.5400