Resto

Dad was counting down the days, the hours and maybe even the minutes until Mom arrived from California for her three-month East Coast tour. On one of his last solitary weekends, where he found himself in our Connecticut home, in the company of his non-fiction hardbacks and Gibson guitars, he ventured into the city to take his grateful daughter and her three friends out to dinner. There was even a brief bizarre blizzard that day, and when I called to confirm if he was still coming in, I got a delighted and unphased, "Of course!" I should have known-- nothing gets in the way of my dad and his family (or Manhattan). Now that is what I call unconditional love.

Dad chose Resto for its Belgian fare. FoxyLady and I headed downtown from our apartment, where we'd been vegging all day. It was, after all, a lazy Sunday spent on our living room couches. Fashionista and LarchmontLass were already there when we arrived, sitting with my dad at the bar.

The place was deadsville. Not a soul was in sight, except for the bartender who was doing his daily prep, and a few waitresses milling about in the back of the dining area, positioning their aprons and adjusting their hair for the night, and I'm sure thinking, "Crap, what are people doing here this early?!" This was the first time in three years that LarchmontLass met my dad and I was sorry I wasn't there to introduce them. Luckily Fashionista, having met my dad over the Christmas holiday in Carmel, took care of that for me.

Resto keeps its decor simple. The walls are completely bare. There is a line of several tables along the left side and the bar is on your right. There is enough room in between that you can hang comfortably at the bar, probably two or three deep, and not feel like you're in a table's lap. The sparseness of decor at Resto gave it a sort of minimalist rustic feel, while its tin ceiling added a bit of sophistication and elegance to the beer hall.

We were seated at the fun table -- an XXL wooden table at the front and right off the window. It felt like a picnic table and could seat at least ten, if not more. We felt silly taking up the entire table-- I had to yell at LarchmontLass at the other end-- but there were no other takers that early. It continued to snow lightly while we were eating and we all noted how pretty the view was from our table. Had it been December, it would have been the perfect white Christmas scene (I think there was even a wreath still hanging).

We each ordered our respective favorite glasses of wine while Dad ordered a beer. The selection of both was very impressive. I wasn't aware that evening, but according to Resto's Web site, they serve 70 beers. My dad's heaven.

There was a large chalkboard next to us with the specials. We died at a $100+ special, and thought it must have been a typo. After our waitress explained the specials to us, we learned it was not.

After the general "How was the week?" conversation, there were some brief tales of boys lost and found.

"She went out with who?"

"He drank what?"

"I told her to be unavailable the next time--"

"What is up with those two?"

"Time to move on!"

Dad blushed almost as many times as we changed subjects. I proceeded to nag LarchmontLass for a play-by-play of her date the night before and I know she was dying. I still managed to get the dirt, even if it was PG, and Dad got through it. He was a good sport.

For appetizers, we tried three dishes: the double-cooked pork in a Belgian endive vinaigrette...


spiced Four Story Hill Farm (of eastern Penn.) lamb ribs with sheep's milk yogurt and pickled tomato...


and the deviled egg on a crispy pork toast.


I liked the ribs, the deviled eggs and the pulled pork, in that order. The ribs were amazing. The waitress warned us that it was spicy and ALL fat.

"Ick. That was horrible. It was all fat," said my dad, with a look like he was overcome by the heebie-jeebies.

"Yes, Dad, we're aware. She told us that." I gave it my best effort.

"I don't care, how can they serve that?"

I wasn't sure how to explain it, besides that the fat was the whole point? It's charred and flavorful and dripping in the yogurt. I guess it does take a type of person to appreciate it. And that was me.

The deviled eggs were as gourmet as they come. I'm not sure what I liked better-- the egg itself or the toast. As you can see, the egg sat on a little square of fried pork. It was unlike anything I've ever tasted. It was the foodie version of "The Odd Couple." Who would have thought the two would taste so good together? If you really want to wow people at a tailgate, forget your mom's deviled egg recipe, figure out how to make these pork toasts.

Between the five of us, we only ordered two of the entrees. FoxyLady and I ordered the mussels. They were warm and chewy and delicious.

Fashionista, LarchmontLass and my dad ordered the steak frites. Dad wasn't crazy about his steak, though I think he already made his mind up about the place after the appetizers. He said it was a little tough. The other girls didn't seem to mind it.


The coolest thing about the frites was you got to choose what kind of dipping sauce you wanted. They have a list of mayos and instead of choosing one, I just told our waitress to give me the works. And she did. It was almost as fun as Pommes Frites. There was mayo with onion, sweet chili, lime pickle, cocktail, mayo and gribiche. Besides the ribs and deviled egg surprise, the frites were definitely the next best thing on the table. I need to start compiling a list of best fries in the city because Resto's would surely make it in the top five.


We all had a great time at Resto, and I'm glad my roommate LarchmontLass finally got to meet my dad. Now if only Mom would come in, then it'd be a real party. My only complaint about Resto is the menu is very limited. My dad needs variety. Not everyone can find something out of such a small selection.

As we sat eating our dinner, a young couple with their adorable toehead toddler and stroller in tow walked in and parked themselves at the bar. I wanted to take a picture for my very own "Day in the Life" collection, but couldn't get Ericsson to cooperate. It was charming and refreshing to see a family welcome at the bar and comfortable just relaxing and being together. Resto gives off the vibe that it's a chill place for everyone. And with so many frills and thrills in this city, it's nice to just keep it real and keep it simple once in a while, ya know?


111 East 29th St., between Park and Lexington
212-685-5595