Country comfort, city environs.
My companion hears me say we're dining at Item A Kitchen and Lounge. One of those chichi trendy places, she assumes. Whatever. As we near the restaurant in businessy midtown with its sedate blue banner and then peek through the window to spy cooks in their open kitchen off the bar, she decides I had said "Idom Ae," and thinks we are having Asian fusion, which she'd just had the night before. There's a gray look on her face until the small point of the banner's typeface comes into focus and a smile busts wide open?a restaurant named "Ida Mae" is sure to provide some down-home comfort on a dreary evening.
Chef-partner Kenneth Collins reveals it is his grandmother's name. He's had restaurants in New Jersey and Connecticut, but says he had to "come to the big city." His suburban minions have followed him to this sprawling metropolitan room done up in soft blue. The space is divided into that see-into kitchen, long bar, lounge and dining room; the central lounge being the showpiece of the place. It's colonial Caribbean-flavored with candle towers, set off from the dining room by white sheers.
In the dining area, pretty chandeliers hang over tables laid with gleaming hammered silverware. Blue glass bowls hold votives. The window-seated are all dressed appropriately and engage in inter-table conversation. Jazz plays on the speakers while our very professional busser brings bread. The apportioned slices are not so fresh, but the ancho chili butter that accompanies is a saving grace?very sweet with a bit of heat that sneaks up on you.
There's a short, midrange wine list. A glass of Sycamore Vineyards Freemark Abbey '96 ($14), a cabernet from the Napa Valley, has a surprisingly medicinal odor. It's not yet vinegar, but is well on its way. I ask for a replacement of a cheaper cab, which is fresh and smooth drinking. I'm billed for only one glass, but at the higher price. Probably an oversight, as this is their first night open, and some stutters are apparent in the service.
Monterra merlot '00 ($9?pricey for this wine) is medium and fruity and holds up to the mildly spicy eats; Italian Prosecco by the glass is also on the list. The foursome next to us enjoy cocktails, a Cosmo among them. On the opposite side of us, fancy virgin fruity cocktails appear, for the well-dressed younger set.
Spring vegetable rolls contain standard greens and carrot strips, but the wrappers are particularly flaky, and the plum sauce "ketchup" makes the dish. The chef knows his sauces; none are overspiced, and all are intriguing. The rolls are cut on the diagonal, and my companion wonders how to eat them. I suggest with fingers, but my opinions matter not; she has to ask the chef. He suggests using fingers, an answer she accepts.
Lukewarm sweet-potato ravioli comes in a cream sauce garnished with pliant sweet-potato chips. The thin delicate pasta rounds have a nutmeg filling with just a bit of peppery spice. These don't need to be piping hot, but I found them a little too cool to enjoy thoroughly. I was lazy, so didn't send them back for a reheating, but the staff is very accommodating, so be sure to speak up if something's not right. They aim to please. The menu lists an entree of "grilled port." My companion asks, what is it? I have to confess I don't know. A fish I've not heard of? What kind of restaurant reviewer am I, anyway?
It turns out to be a typo for grilled pork, and plenty of it. The chef suggests ordering it medium, and it's generally best to go with the chef. The outsides are well-seared, the meat is not too lean; the hearty slices are downright buttery in a lusty barbecue sauce. Also on this plate, a stack of mild kernel-studded corn pudding supported by pale puffy corn chips and a heap of sticky, partly crushed black beans, along with a few addictive fried beet chips. The beans are the only element I can't finish; they're not bad, just a bit lackluster compared to the rest of the plate.
As with all dishes here, the presentation of the duck entree is great. It's served with spinach and pureed butternut squash that carries a kick. The pieces of duck are flavorful on their own, but a chutney has been spooned over to make things even more interesting. I see people gnawing on ribs and chops. They look happy. Actually, they are beaming. Service is relaxed, which suits us fine since we have nothing better to do. If you're theater-bound, you are advised to say so.
Coffee is rich, mellow and served hot. Our waiter assures me that the southern desserts are calorie-free. I tell him we'll have only two?we're dieting. The warm pecan tart comes topped with homemade rum ice cream that you could get drunk on. It forms its own diamond dish of crisp, thick pastry circled by dots of vanilla sauce. This is more refined than pecan pie, but just as tasty?the ice cream melting into it makes it especially good. Warmed apple pandowdy comes in its own individual cake pan. A cinnamon road leads to the spiced chopped apples with vanilla bean ice cream over a sweet bread base.
The chef confirms folks have been coming in for lunch. Why not, when he's offering sweet-potato crusted-stone pie ($10) with tasso ham, oven-dried tomatoes, basil and petite basque (Pyrenees sheep's-milk cheese) and a grilled tenderloin sandwich ($15) with caramelized onions and maytag blue cheese on a French baguette? After polishing off those desserts, somehow we are able to rise from our table. The waiter encourages me to "tell your friends" and so I have.