Word to the wise: Perhaps it's not such a good idea to visit a restaurant on their second day open. I learned this the hard way when I showed up at Rucola in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. The anticipation of the opening of this new spot that touts northern-Italian cuisine was palpable when I arrived on Friday to a swarm of patrons outside the door. Probably because it's the baby of alums of the Prime Meats, Death & Co., and Cafe Boulud "restaurant titan trifecta." And I fell for it. I even waited for over two hours to be seated, which I would never do! This time was an exception, as the hours pass pleasantly when you have a friend who works at a bar down the street and you're not yet famished. Cut to us merrily merging forces and sitting at a table for three at 10:15 pm.
With some trifecta power of our own and a short listed offering of 5 plates and 2 desserts, it was only natural to order the whole menu. Turns out even that was not enough and we wound up having to double up on items. It also would have been considerate if they had mentioned one minor detail: They had no power! Excuse me? How could you confidently invite patrons to spend a pretty penny (yeah, it wasn't cheap) on what they think is a fully supported menu of food worth a 2-hour plus wait, and you don't have a functioning fridge and burner? Well it didn't go unnoticed, as our food left much to be desired - and we ordered everything!
I will commend Rucola for the ambiance set by perfectly placed rustic wooden tables, romantic candle-lighting, and an extremely genial front of the house. Our server was genuinely bubbly and Julian Brizzi, managing partner and "name-taker" of the night, was all smiles and enthusiasm as he jotted our phone number and nonchalantly mentioned it's a 2-hour wait for 2 - which couldn't help beget the "don't call us, we'll call you" sentiment.
If you still feel hungry after a meal out, there is a screw loose somewhere. I don't appreciate dishes overpriced for their portions, but can give a pass if the food is at the least thoughtful and tasty. But the leave-you- feeling-hungry, uninteresting, pricey fare doesn't jive with me. And this was Rucola in a nutshell. Two bottles of wine made this pill easier to swallow, but my party was still all too aware of our disappointment. We wound up with two meat and cheese plates - the second, one of those duplications that came at the end of the meal when we still needed more to put in our mouths. These were acceptably edible and as interesting as a charcuterie board might be, showcasing three of each, but in a portion that did not reflect the $19 a pop price.
Move to the two salads on the menu that looked almost identical. One presented itself as an octopus salad, but had more tasteless arugula than the thread-thin fish. The other with radishes and dandelion greens was as robust and intricate as it sounds: not. Whatever else was in them to contribute some sort of flavor failed. It was unfortunate that the octopus was another repeat dish. But excitement abounded when the pasta plate approached, as surely this was fail-safe. We were so confident in this homemade fettuccine carbonara with ramps that we doubled up on this dish right from the start - only to be informed post-ordering they only had one left (hence the second, but unfulfilling helping of octopus salad.) Well, we found it wouldn't have been worth the carb consumption. A blessing in disguise? How do I know this pasta did not meet anyone's tongue in the kitchen? Because they would have dumped the whole batch had the overload of salt assaulted them as it did us. The resulting taste was akin to the all too familiar experience of merrily salting along when the loose cap of the shaker demonically flies off, a flood of salt crystals rushing out like a broken dam. When it comes to salting, a heavy hand can be a bad, bad thing - and it was.
The only thing that was notable by comparison was the whole fish on the bone, decorated with clams and a simple lemon, oilve oil, and basil pesto. This was good as far as these things go, but nothing outstanding, as one might hope for with such a hefty price.
An assorted cookie platter was not a comprehensive dessert by any stretch but the hodge podge sufficed as little sugary nibbles. The chocolate cake tasted like it was compliments of Betty Crocker, living up to the after-thought it probably was without an appearance menu. And the soupy rice pudding - ah, make that two. Oh right, hungry still - was the best of the three options, with a rhubarb compote that added a spruce of color if not a benign sweetness. Hunger plus mediocrity equals over $80 per person? So I guess we won't be doing that again - not unless I can be assured that all the electrical appliances are powered and there is a salt patrol on duty. Even with these things, the thought put into the dishes needs to be more deliberate, focused and creative. Not to mention better supported by substantial ingredients. read more